but i still can't get over that he was just staring at her

Bitty’s Southern

Bitty is a southern boy and as a southern girl let me tell you there are things he does that make the rest of SMH go “Ummm….what?” 

  • He says stuff that makes literal ZERO sense to the rest of the team. Mostly southern phrases etc. LIKE, “That boy is about of useless as tits on a bull.” or  if it’s raining but the sun is out Bits just says, “Devil must be beatin’ his wife.”  Everyone is confused as shit.
  • “Oh my goodness I want Chick-fil-a. BUT IT’S SUNDAY.”
  • Holster going,” Hey Bits can you hand me a coke?” and Bitty responding with, “Sure, which kind do you want? We’ve got sprite, mtn dew, dr. pepper…” BC in the south every soda is a coke.
  • “Y’all know what I miss the most about Georgia? Cheerwine. And Duke’s Mayo. You northerners keep using that hellman’s stuff or miracle whip and let me tell you. IT. IS .NOT. MAYONNAISE.”
  • “IT’S SO HOT! Summer is the WORST” “Ransom, It’s like, 70 degrees. It gets up to like 115+ in Georgia. And it’s not even humid! You hush your mouth.”
  • The first time Bitty goes to Stop & Shop with one of the guys from SMH he tells them to grab a buggy on their way in and said member stares at him for a second, “What’s a buggy?” “Oh for goodness sake. A shopping cart! We need a shopping cart!”
  • Bitty’s drunk at a kegster when he suddenly shouts, “WHO WANTS TO PLAY CORNHOLE?!” 
  • It’s New Years so of course Bitty’s making black eyed peas, collards, cornbread, ham, and a pineapple upside down cake. “It’s for luck.”
  • Bitty will be checking Facebook and be like, “Oh bless his heart.” Chowder notices him fretting over the phone so he asks what’s up “Oh it’s just one of my friend from high school’s dad.” and Chowder, being the precious person that he is, responds with, “Oh no. What happened? Is he ok?” Bitty just shakes his head, “He’s done went and fell out of the deer stand. Again. Broke his arm and bruised his pride. You think he would’ve learned his lesson after the same thing happened last huntin’ season”
  • Jack’s all dressed up in a suit or something, he has a meeting with the Falcs, “What are you all gussied up for?”
  • “Look at what all I got up at the outlet mall!!”
  • Rans/Holster/Bitty share a bathroom so I reckon this has happened at least once: “Neither of y’all go in the bathroom! I’m fixin’ to shower”  to which Holster responds, “What was that Bits? What are you fixing?” Bitty hollers from his room, arm full of clothes, “I’m fixin’ to shower!” Ransom chimes in, “I didn’t know the shower was broken!” At this point Bitty is getting frustrated,“Oh for the love of Pete! You Yankees.” He speaks slowly and pronounces each word carefully, “I am going to go take a shower so please do not go and hog the bathroom.”
  • “So I was talking to Momma and APPARENTLY Mrs. Jones, the one that lives down the road, was rude as all get out.” “Really? What’d she do?” Bitty just throws his hands up, “Momma and Coach were drivin’ back to the house and Mrs. Jones was driving in the opposite direction so of course Momma waves at her. AND SHE DIDN’T WAVE BACK.”
  • I know for a FACT that at some point Bits makes a pitcher of sweet tea, puts it in the fridge, and the boys/Lardo finds it. “What’s this?” “Oh, it’s just some tea. You want some?” So Bitty pours them a glass and approximately 2 seconds later “WHAT IS THIS? IT’S LIKE SYRUP! Bits this isn’t tea! It’s diabetes in a cup!”
  • “Just rub some bacon grease on it.”
  • “Don’t you dare pour that coffee out! I can use it for gravy!”
  • “You know what food I miss? Fried pickles. No, wait, HUSHPUPPIES. I’d kill for some right now.”
Day One: Homesickness

Thought I’d start off @vldangstweek with something that turns from angsty to fluffy, just because, based on the rest of this weeks prompts, it’s gonna get waaayyyy angstier (knowing me, anyway). Everything will be tagged with vldangstweek and any of my usual angst tags (angst, langst, klangst, etc)

Let my children go home, they’re stressed and tired (under a cut for length).


“Come on Lance, one more time! You need to defeat this gladiator before I can allow anyone to go to dinner!” Allura shouted down from the observation deck.

The quiet groans of his teammates filled his head and Lance winced, stepping back to stand his ground against the bot attacking him. His vision wavered over his helmet and his fingers trembled against his bayard, unable to form it because of the close range combat style. He grunted, rolling as the bot dove for him, sweeping it’s legs out from under it and sending it to the ground. Briefly, he heard Hunk’s cheer of encouragement in his comms, and then the bot was back up again, charging at him.

Lance sighed, side stepping the bot and pressing his shaking hands to his head, trying to stop the swimming feeling in his brain, the burn at the back of his throat and eyes, the tightness in his chest. He took a hit, hard, and fell backwards onto his ass, teeth clacking together.

“Dude, seriously, we’re starving!” Pidge called out. “You need to beat this!”

Lance took a shaky breath, shooting a glare at the deck. “You want me to beat it? Fine. I’ll beat it.”

Before the bot could get any closer, Lance whipped out his bayard, transforming it in the process and ignoring Allura’s shouts of this being a hand to hand fight. Within seconds, the bot was in a smoking heap on the floor and Lance was shaking, sweat curling down his forehead. Allura stormed out of the observation deck and onto the main floor, eyebrows furrowed. “That was not the assignment, Lance. You’ll have to do it again.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Lance ripped off his helmet and chucked it to the ground. When he looked up, Allura took a step back at the ferocity in his face, the tears in his eyes. “I said, no. I’m not doing this bull shit anymore. They’re not either,” he snapped, pointing towards the deck. “You don’t get to treat us this way, we’re the only reason you’re not dead or still in those stupid pods. You called us family, Allura.”

His voice broke and his lip quivered as he stumbled back, shaking his head. “You don’t get to treat family like this. Not when we’re doing all of this for you.”

He swallowed and spun on his heel, storming from the room. Allura hesitated, glancing back at the deck only to find the rest of the paladins and Coran standing behind her. She studied the group, noted the lines on their faces and the bags under their eyes, and frowned. “Do you all agree with him?”

They remained silent for a moment, glancing at each other. Hunk spoke up first, his voice gentle. “Yeah. I do, at least.”

“Me too,” Pidge piped up, staring at the floor and fiddling with her bayard.

Keith nodded silently, rubbing a hand up and down one arm and looking off to the side. Hunk huffed. “Allura, we…I would say we’re homesick, but I don’t know if that covers all of us.”

“We’re Earth sick,” Keith offered. “And Lance…”

Shiro spoke for the first time. “Lance has the most family to miss out of the five of us.”

“And honestly?” Hunk muttered. “You yelling all the time, you pushing him, and us, all the time? No breaks, no relaxation time at all? I’m amazed he didn’t snap before this.”

Allura swallowed. “I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Hunk promised. “We understand, you want to stop the Galra, stop Zarkon.”

“But you have to remember that we’re all volunteering to do this,” Pidge said, fidgeting from foot to foot. “There’s nothing keeping anyone here other than empathy. Don’t give Lance a reason to stop caring, or he will leave.”

Allura bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “I should go-”

“No,” Keith said firmly, stepping forwards and resting a hand on Allura’s arm. “We got this. You two go get dinner.”

She and Coran studied the paladins for a moment before nodding in agreement and leaving the training deck.

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anonymous asked:

If it hasn't already been done (I know I haven't read them all yet) could you do 71 with matt and niel? I can't ever get enough of their friendship

71: “There’s a thunderstorm outside and you want to do what?” 

The court is soup, stirring and humid, and Matt stares straight up at the ceiling, trying to catch a proper breath. He’s aware of Dan folded almost in half by the benches, holding a stitch in her side like something’s about to pop out. 

Nicky’s starfished a metre away from Matt, gasping dramatically with both arms criss-cross flung over his eyes. The rest of the team is hunched or stretched like roman statues, twisted in grotesque shapes to take the pressure off of their overworked ankles and lungs.

Inevitably, Neil is utterly solid on his feet, chest still heaving with exertion but eyes focused. Andrew passes him an unscrewed water bottle and they make eye contact for five whole seconds too long. Matt snorts, rolling away onto his front and grimacing at the sweaty peeling sound his uniform makes.

“Neil,” he calls, holding his own flushed cheeks. “Any ETA on when we can scrape ourselves off the court?”

“What?” he asks sharply.

“We just want to whither and die in our own homes,” Nicky moans.

“We have a half hour left in our regular practice plus we’re a month away from semifinals,” Neil says, incredulous. “We should be working harder than ever.”

“A month,” Allison repeats. “As in one month. As in what— over forty practices to go?”

Matt sneaks a glance and Neil has his arms crossed, his mouth sour. “The ravens will be—“

“Nope,” Allison interrupts,  “I’m sick of hearing about what Edgar Allan’s demonic fucking automatons would do. They don’t play by the same rules as us. That’s sort of the point.”

“We’ll be better fresh, Neil,” Dan says, still panting a little from her last lap. “You know what pushing too hard looks like.”

“And I know what not pushing hard enough looks like,” Neil snaps, harsh and echoey in their plexiglass cage. He swallows a couple of times, maybe trying to get the taste of his outburst out of his mouth, and then he looks away. “Some of you meet resistance and stop pushing.”

“I mean If I know anything about Q-tips, that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Nicky says.

“Your body resists for a reason.” Aaron grimaces, apparently upset to be agreeing with his cousin.

“Neil’s right,” Kevin says, and everyone groans. His eyes narrow, and he taps his racquet on the floor like he’s calling order to a courtroom. “We’re not improving. We’re stagnant, and we’re taking the extra bulk of the newbies for granted. More bodies doesn’t guarantee a win, we know this. We have to switch things up.”

“Switch things up,” Allison repeats, leaning back on her hands. “What would you propose, Queenie? You want us to switch jersey’s? Play on a basketball court?”

“The jersey thing sounds fun,” Matt says, sly. “Dibs on Dan’s.”

“Switch things up,” Neil echoes, and Matt watches helplessly as a bad idea dawns on him. 

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Erased

This is a story BASED ON the Lost Lance AU which BELONGS TO @kaxpha
which is AMAZING and everyone should check it out. This particular one-shot which is longer than I thought it’d be is based on this post and this animatic.

This is one of my favorite klance AUs ever, because you can just tell the sheer amount of thought and effort that went into it. I hope I was able to do it justice.

aNYWAY here it is. Sorry, I’m posting this later than I originally planned.


Lance’s leg was bent at an awkward angle, and every time he got the nerve to look at it just made him feel worse than before. 

Hunk had suffered a few bruised ribs at the very least, and it was likely Pidge received a minor concussion. One of Shiro’s legs had been grazed by a laser, and Keith seemed to be the only one of the five of them who could still stand on two feet.

But Lance couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt happier. Because they’d finally done it.

They’d taken down Prince Lotor, heir to the all-powerful Galra empire. He kneeled on the ground, hands clutching his stomach. Lance couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at that— he was the one to land a shot there.

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A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Seven)


Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?

Many a red-headed man I’d passed on the long road from Lallybroch. Every single time, my stupid, desperate heart had leapt with joy; and every time, I cursed myself for the fool that I was. For Christ’s SAKE, why the bloody hell should he be on the road from Inverness, Beauchamp? Jamie Fraser is south, in Edinburgh, with his wife. With his daughters. Happy. So, pull yourself together. 

So deep had been my longing, though, that my traitorous eyes had tried over and over to convince me that it might be, it MIGHT be this time! (even when the actual travelers hadn’t looked remotely like Jamie). Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, one had been a very tall boy no more than twelve, and I still had had to see his face from ten feet before I would allow my heart to quiet. Not him. Not him. 

Blind hope, indeed. 

But this time, as I whirled and fell on the hillside, heart exploding, in a single moment, I was certain. Even from a great distance, even two decades later, even not yet able to see his face through the snow-flecked gloom, even had he not been screaming my name, yes, I’d know the shape of that man anywhere. It was Jamie, tearing toward me on horseback, riding like the hounds of hell were at his heels. And the SIGHT of him? A relief and a love smashed through me, so deep and so visceral that I staggered downward; not running, not even making my way down the hill;  just slipping, pulled toward his orbit. 

Alive. I had known for months, believed, had confirmation from Jenny herself, and yet the proof was now there before my eyes. Not under a stone on Culloden Moor; that nightmare was now banished forever. Jamie Fraser was ALIVE.

I saw him kick hard, spurring the horse to an even more astonishing pace—how loudly must he have been screaming that I had been able to hear him from so far away?—and found myself bursting out with joyous laughter at the way his shirt flapped like a sail in the wind. Nothing changed, then, if the ridiculous man had ridden without a coat or a cloak against the wind and the sn—


Wife. 

No.

Daughters.

Please….please, no.

This changes absolutely nothing, Beauchamp. This ends with you going through those stones, sooner or later. Make it sooner. 

But he came for me—Jamie came! He’s HERE.

He’s happy. He may have come, but he’s happy.  Don’t make him suffer by forcing this impossible choice. 

Just let me say goodbye.

Please. 

Let me hold him, just for —

Beauchamp: 

Can you honestly do what needs to be done if you have to look him in the eye and pull yourself out of his arms?


“CLAIRE!—What are ye—? S T O P !”

I was running up the hill, stumbling and tripping, going as fast as I could. I couldn’t stop. If I looked at him—If I touched him…

Everything seemed to slow to single frames, impressions:


The slow shrill cry of my breaths,

the grass suddenly inches from my nose as I staggered low over a boulder.

Hoofbeats, closer, louder.


I’m running for my life through quicksand,

every footfall sinking me deeper, and slower, as the monster gets closer and closer and—


A fierce whinny, a curse.

A voice— my voice—screaming. “STAY AWAY!”

Boots hitting the ground,

“CLAIRE, STOP!


Running, both of us running,  

and I couldn’t stop.

I must not st—


Time smashed into its normal pace again as I fell, mere yards from the crest of the hill, and cried out in pain.

“CLAIRE!” God, he was so close, pounding up the hill behind me, no more than thirty—

Don’t!” I shouted as I scrambled to my feet. 

“CLAI—”

“DO—NOT—TOUCH—ME!”  I screamed it over my shoulder with all the violence I possessed, a feral beast, cornered and ready to go for the throat as it went down.

Silence fell on the faerie hill. Stillness, and absolute silence.

When human thought returned, I was on my feet at the very top of the hill, the stones screaming their evil song behind me. My body was slung sideways, both arms raised in defense; my head hung at an improbable angle so as to look nowhere, see nothing: not the stones, not him. It was elemental in my body, in that moment: the absolute imperative not to look at him. If I could keep from looking, keep from getting trapped in those eyes, everything would be alright.

It was a ridiculous logic, I knew; somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness, that was obvious. Jamie Fraser was HERE. He wouldn’t simply let me walk away unacknowledged; but such was the depth of my panic and hysteria that I couldn’t move. I was bare millimeters from completely falling apart, abandoning all my noble resolve, and flinging myself into his arms, begging him to choose me  take me and damn the fucking consequences.

But it still wouldn’t change a bloody thing, the rational half of my mind whimpered. He would still be married. He would still have his children. We still could not be together, or at least not under any circumstances that honor would permit. I still could not force him to make that choice. 

Hold yourself together, Beauchamp. No tears, remember? You said you could do the same for him; could be calm and sure for him. Now, do it. Stand strong.

“….Mo nighean donn?”

That flower-stem snap.

That voice—Jamie’s sweet, clear voice; my very heart speaking aloud, quietly, but with every ounce of pain and longing that I felt in my own breast. 

Look at me, mo nighean donn.”

Stand. strong.

My mouth was dry and my entire body was shaking, each word an effort. “— Can't—”

A sudden, vicious snarl. “LOOK at me!”

I half-growled, half screamed, “I—CANT!” 

Desperate. So desperate, that ‘can’t’. I was shaking. Going into shock, in fact. Could feel the darkness and the manic energy and the absolute inability to retrieve words or actions closing—

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.” 

He said it like he always said his own name: low and distinct, with honor in every syllable.  

BE STRONG.

“I have ridden,” he said, in a voice so quiet and deep and measured, “night and day for nigh on a week, terrified that—terrified th—*Please,*” His calm vanished and the words were tumbling out of him in a frantic rush. “Please, for the love ye bear me, for the love that brought ye to find meTURN.”

STAND.

God, but I can’t stand.

“By everything that is holy…” A whispered moan. “Let me see your face, mo ghraidh.

….and damn my weak, foolish heart, I turned. I looked.


Day and night for a week, he’d said, and I believed it. Even at a distance of twenty feet down the hill, I could see just how bloodshot his eyes were, wide and wild. He was pale, underneath the red of wind and exertion, paler than I remembered. That glorious hair was now worn long. If it had been tied back, the ride and the wind had undone it. It was wild and tangled, whipping about his face, his chin covered in stubble that nearly amounted to a beard. His clothes—nothing but shirt, breeks and boots— were filthy and torn and splattered with mud. He looked, quite simply, dead on his feet.

He was the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld.

God, you’re so like her, I wanted to moan. I’d known it, had had my heart broken every day to see the proof of him in our daughter, and yet seeing him now before me, I was absolutely run through to find her broad, good-humored face there, the same dark blue eyes aslant the high, flat cheekbones and wide mouth. 

He’d aged, of course, as had I. The lines around eyes and mouth were deeper, the skin more weathered and coarse, but it was still him. His nose had been broken, at some point. It made him look fiercer, though perhaps that was simply fatigue and the vast waves of emotion obviously rushing through him, through us both. 

Jamie had staggered back a pace or two back as he stared up at me, nearly toppling down the steep incline. “Jesus….Christ…” he whispered. The back of his hand was pressed to his mouth as though to stifle a cry, “You’re….You….” The hand became a fist and he shook his head as a gasping smile broke from him. “Claire—God, Claire, mo chridhe!” He moved, about to sprint up the hill. 

I jumped backward. Raised my arms against him. No.

Hurt. Betrayal. Pain. It was as though I had shot him at point-blank range…And something deeper shone beneath it all: some blazing intensity I couldn’t quite identify. He looked as though he would bleed out there on the spot, from this newest wound. 

So will I, my love. 

But he heeded me, standing completely still. His hands shook, half-raised before him. He simply didn’t know what to do with them—I knew because I didn’t know what to do with mine. His mouth worked as he tried to speak, to ask, to say something, but failing. Those eyes held everything, though. Pleading.

Silence on the hill. Silence and screaming. 

“You—survived,” I managed at last, weakly, with something like a laugh.

“Aye—” He exhaled in a huge rush, clearly grateful that I’d broken the stalemate. “It was a verra close thing.” He spoke fast and frantically, babbling, even, as though terrified to let silence fall again. “I should have died in the battle, or from the firing squads after, or of my wounds festering, but— Aye, I—I was—spared.”

“Thank God,” I whispered, and his eyes lit with such hope and relief that I could have cut my bloody tongue out at the root.

STOP this instant, Beauchamp. Nothing has changed.

Jamie was the one to break the silence, this time. “Your letter,” he gasped out.

“You read it, then?” A stupid thing to say. He’d obviously read it, but I clung to conversation just as he had. The stupid words were something, something to keep from falling off the edge of this insanity. “When?”

“By providence, I arrived at Lallybroch the same day you’d left, and….Oh, God, CLAIRE….”

Oh, God, Jamie. 

Each time my name left him, it seemed to tear a piece out of both of us. I could only look down at him, waiting.

“When I saw your hand on that letter,” he said, voice shaking uncontrollably, “the print of your ring in the wax, I …”

He shook his head, at a loss, mouthing it over and over. I…I….

Through the snow, though darkness was creeping steadily around us, I could see the first tear sliding down his cheek. “….I felt as though I were dying.”

So did I. So do I.

“To know you’d survived—that you’d come back, and—and,” his eyes lit up. “Brianna.”

From his lips, our daughter’s name sounded like strange music from another world, and I wanted to listen to it forever.

“It would have been enough—more than enough—only to ken our bairn had lived, that the both of ye had lived and been cared for, but to….Claire, I simply couldna believe my eyes.” He shook his head, violently. “To see…to SEE the lass…our daughter.” Jamie released his sobbing breath and closed his eyes, holding out his hands before him, tears streamed down his cheeks. “Her entire life, there before me… and she so happy and so braw and bonny and—God, it tore out my beating heart.” He heaved a breath and smiled up at me, beaming with love and joy, though it was difficult for him to get out the words. “She’s—more wonderful than I ever could have imagined, mo ghraidh….Our Brianna.”

I forced a smile and choked down a sob. “I’m so honored,” I whispered, so haltingly, so carefully, so, so carefully, “to have been able—to bring her to you, in some way.”

My love.

My own love.


Nothing has changed.

I know. 


I took a step, two steps, backward toward the stones. This was the part where I was to be strong. 

Jamie’s eyes snapped into laser-focus, a predator’s, and that unknown intensity I’d seen earlier flamed now into life. It was anger

“Why would ye just GO?” His voice was still wretched with pain but he was snarling, stammering, growling in mounting fury. “Ye—ye came for me and—Ye came all the way from your time through the stones and then meant to go back and leave forever wi’out even—Damn ye, woman, ye didna even—If I hadna come just in time—Foolish—wretched, FOOLISH—” He hurled the demand toward me with his entire body. “WHY?”

“You *know* why.” It was all but a moan. 

He growled again. “Ye dinna ken —” 

“I know that you’re married,” I got out, moving sideways around the rim of the hill, countering his advance. “I know you have children. Jenny told me everything—how hap—”

“No, Claire, ye dinna understand!” Something had shifted in his eyes — relief? — and he was once again still, though scarcely fifteen feet in front of me down the hill. “Jenny lied. She lied, Claire,” he insisted, the words falling out of him. “She lied and made ye think I was—”

You’re not  ??”

Jenny lied! Thank the bloody stars above, the horrible bitch LIED!!! Jesus H— 

My smile broke through like the dawn, a blaze of glorious, raging happiness as I gasped out, “Then, you’re not married?”

And I watched as that hope shriveled and vanished to dust. His eyes dropped to the ground. “I am marrit.”

I swayed, eyes closed. I couldn’t bear this any longer, couldn’t take this agony raging in my heart, both the emotional and the physical heart. I felt light-headed, felt pain in my limbs. I couldn’t be strong. I couldn’t.

Just a little while longer. Say your farewell, and be gone. It will be alright, Beauchamp. 

“Then she didn’t lie,” I said, simply, my throat burning with the effort not to wail. “You have a wife and two beautiful daughters.” I caught my breath and opened my eyes, managing to smile, though I was so very near the brink. “I meant what I wrote in the letter. Every single word. I want you to be happy—and I’m glad that you are. I’m glad that you have a family and that they have made you happy.”

His brows were drawn up, making him look absolutely crazed. He mouthed the word like he’d never heard it before. Happy?

“But I—” Somehow, I kept up the smile as I whispered through wooden lips and burning throat and the tears. “—but it means—that I have—to go, now— before—”

“NO,” he snarled, springing with sudden force. I staggered still further away around the hill as he bellowed, “You’ll NOT—”

“BE STILL!” I bellowed back.

And once again, he heeded me. 

“For God’s fucking SAKE, you bloody — Scot!” I shouted down at him, suddenly just as furious as he. “Have you NO notion of what — Don’t you understand? I’m giving you up! I’m letting you go!” I gestured wildly behind me to the stones, choking on my tears. “I’m leaving so you don’t have to choose! Do you think I’m so arrogant as to believe I’m worth upending your happy—”

“DAMN YOU, woman, I havena been HAPPY in TWENTY YEARS!”


Silence on the faerie hill. Silence and screaming. 


When he spoke again, it was once more in that quiet, aching whisper.

“Jenny led ye to believe otherwise and may she be damned for it.” He took a step forward, pointing.  “But in that letter, ye renewed a promise to me; and I’ll give ye the same, now.” Another step. 

I stepped back. 

He surrendered, went to his knees, hands clenched in the posture of oath-taking. “No lies, Claire.” His eyes blazed into mine. “Nor secrets. Not ever. Not now. I swear it on Brianna’s life.”

God, my heart…

“Will ye hear what I have to tell?” 

…it simply couldn’t take this.

But I nodded. 


“I left Laoghaire more than a year past.”

LAOGHAIRE?!?”

The outburst was so violent, so loud and so shrill in the wake of my long silence, that it startled us both. Jamie had to put a hand out to steady himself as he jumped, and the acute panic of a fresh hell showed across his face.  “She—Jenny didna—?”

“No, she BLOODY well DIDN’T!”

“Aye, well—ah …ehm…Claire?” 

He was peering leerily up at me, and little wonder, for I was laughing—actually, CACKLING with laughter, hands clutched to my belly as I doubled over with it. 

“No, Jenny didn’t tell me who,” I sighed, when I had calmed down (marginally). “The only detail your darling sister deigned to divulge about your wife—” 

Of all people. Of ALL the marriageable women in all the bleeding Highlands. He had married —had had children with—loved—

All levity, all scorn dropped out of me, and my voice cracked, a whispering shell. “—was that you were happier with her than she’d ever seen you….And that you had two little girls that call you Da.”

“But they’re not mine, Claire. They’re not mine,” Jamie said again more urgently as I stared. He gritted his teeth. “And I shall wring my sister’s neck for a wicked liar when next I see her, for she kens fine that I’ve not had ninety-nine happy minutes in that marriage since it began.”

I was so cold. Frozen, in every cell. 

“Two years ago, we wed,” he began carefully. “She was marrit before, twice, and found herself a widow wi’ two bairns to feed just as I was newly come back from England.” 

His words were running together, a bit. There was so much warring within him, so much he clearly wished to say, but cold and fatigue and emotion were taking their devastating toll.  

“I’m fond of her lassies—Marsali and Joan. They’re aged fifteen and twelve and have had a cruel, rough way of it, in lives so short. Wi’ all that they’ve endured, I was glad—honored, even— for them to take me into their hearts as a father, but hear me, Claire.” He held my eye. “I’ve shared scarce more wi’ them than what loving gentleness I could offer, and a scant few months of meals shared ‘round the same table. No more.” He shook his head with a sound of shame and regret. “Christ, I sound an unfeeling wretch. I do care for them, I do.

But they weren’t born of his love; nor had he had a hand in raising them.

“Their mother…She…”

She. 

“I did have hope, at the beginning; hope that perhaps there could be some — tenderness between us. Nothing like—” He make a vain gesture up at me and closed his eyes, as though he couldn’t bear it. “—like what I kent it could be between a husband and wife, but something good to keep me sane; keep me alive….Can ye see?…Have ye kent that same hope, Claire?…. Only she couldna; or I couldna. I’ll accept the blame in full, but in the end, the ‘why’ and ‘who’ dinna matter. It was a broken thing within months, and I knew that if I’d stayed….” 

He hung his head, and for the first time, I could truly see the twenty years that had gone from his life. 

“I left for Edinburgh; have been there ever since. I provide for them, but I havena called Balriggan home for over a year…nor shared her bed since long before that.”  

The wind whistled between us. What he was saying…

I was numb. I was…It was like I was underwater, with news being shouted to me from dry land as I slowly drowned. 

“I’ve lain wi’ three women, since you’ve been gone,” he blurted suddenly, urgently against my silence, his voice so miserable, his eyes imploring. “Laoghaire, and two single-night encounters, and from one of those—From one of those nights…”

Oh, Jesus…

“William,” he whispered, nodding in confirmation, his eyes absolutely wretched but shining with the need to confess. “He’s a — a bastard, in England, and I shall never see him again. I’ve never told anyone of him, not even Jenny or Ian. His mother, his putative father—they’re both dead. He’s highborn, in the care of a man I trust. John will give him a good life; better than ever a convicted traitor could.” 

He closed his eyes and I could see his mouth working furiously as he tried both to form words and to hold back his weeping. “But he’s my son,” he whispered. “My only son, alive in the world because of me, and he’s bonny and canty and strong, just like Brianna, and there are days when I canna seem to live wi’out seeing him, holding him, or —” And he went silent, hiding his face in his hands until he could manage to speak. “Nor can I regret that he lives, for those years I had near Willie were the closest thing I’ve had to—to — And that only a shell of what….”

He raised a hand up as though he would cup my cheek across the chasm between us; then dropped it. Both hands lay on his thighs, aimless. 

“No. Happiness has not been granted me, Claire.” He stared at his palms, speaking in the barest, broken murmur. “My heart left wi’ you and the bairn; and while it is my duty to go on, to care for those under my protection, as I shall do, I’ve had little joy save the knowledge that at the end, I’d die and be able to find ye, just as I promised. Two hundred years, I said I’d wait. I’ve been counting.”

The snowflakes danced around us in the near-night, oblivious to desperation or to miraculous sparks catching in dark, deep places. 

“And to then learn in a moment that you’d come back…”

I tried to speak; but I was shaking so hard that I couldn’t open my mouth. I clenched it tight, feeling the tears slipping over my lips. 

“Claire?” he moaned, reaching out a hand. “…Lass?…Love?…I feel as if I shall die if I canna touch ye….Please.”

My knees had locked — everything within me had locked, between Jamie and the cold— and as I tried to adjust my footing, I accidentally stumbled backward a pace.

Despair escaped out of him and he jumped up as though to run to me, but he thought better of it, and came back down to his knees.

“Twice, I brought ye here to send ye away, mo nighean donn, because I knew a better life awaited ye on the other side of those accursed stones. Perhaps it does, this day, as well, but this time, I shall beg. Don’t go.” 

He raised both clawed hands to me. The tears were flowing so violently and his face was so deeply contorted so as to be barely recognizable. 

“Don’t go. Stay wi’ me. Stay. I canna…I canna do it…Please.*please*….”  

I was paralyzed, completely immobilized by — by —

“Is it too much to forgive, Claire?” came the cracked moan of my heart through the darkness that had suddenly hidden him from me entirely. “Laoghaire and—and William? Do… do ye not want me?”

God, Jamie…” I whispered, so softly that surely only the grass and the snow could hear. 

It was the first time I had said his name aloud to him.

“….you’re all I want.”


“Then  what   else   matters?”


“….Nothing.”


Nothing else mattered.

And I was flying down to him, and he was flying off his knees to catch me, and the feeling of his arms around me, of Jamie’s arms around me at last was —

Like lightning, striking upon the sand. A flash of light, of power, instantly transforming the hundreds of tiny fragments— the millions of shards weathered to all but nothing by time—into a single, molten one. A whole. 


END OF PART I

random-b-l-o-g  asked:

Hi! First off, I want to say that I like your take on the situations and your writing. Could I perhaps request something? It has to do with the end of Jumin's 10th day. When V comes and picks us up he says that we'll be safe at the apartment. Could you perhaps write how the RFA + V would feel if MC was kidnapped by Unknown after she got to the apartment? It's very angsty, but oh well. If you can't write it then that's fine. Thanks!

This is an interesting request! I don’t think I’ve really written much angst since I got to this blog… (well. Granted, it’s only been 2 weeks.) I’d like to write more angst—send in asks, guys, haha! Let me practise and get better for you all <3

By the way, I love how you refer to MC as “us”!! Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations ^~^”

–R.I.

Click Here for: [Part 2]


“Thanks for bringing me back, V!” you bid him goodbye, and walked off into the apartment. Your keys jingled as you unlocked the door, and you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You hadn’t lived in this apartment very long, and you’d only been gone for a few days, but you already felt attached to this place.

The lights flickered on, and you smiled at the familiar sight of the living room. It was just as you had left i- huh?

The light switched off, and you freaked out a bit as it became pitch black.

Using your phone’s flashlight, you searched for the light switch, hoping it would work properly. Could the light bulb have gone out in the few days you’d been away?

To your relief, the lights turned back on, and you sighed. You would have had to change the light in the dark, otherwise.

But when you turned around, your relief was cut short.

A masked person with bleached hair stood in front of you, dressed in black, leather clothing. He had a tattoo on his arm, and teal eyes that stared right back at you.

“Wel – come home!” he greeted you mockingly in a creepy tone. “Too bad you’ll be leaving again. You must be tired, hm?”

No. No. V had said you would be safe.

“I need you to swear to me. Considering all the secrets you know, is MC safe?” Jumin demanded, a concerned undertone in his voice. It was clear that he was already close to giving in to V’s request, but he was still reluctant in letting you go.

“Swear…” V replied tiredly.

“I tend to believe numbers more than words, but if you are sincere, I’ll believe you.”

“Alright. I swear that MC will be absolutely safe on my life. Is that enough?” V had said.

V had promised you’d be safe. HE SWORE YOU’D BE SAFE. So why? Who was this man in your apartment? Why was he waiting for you? What did he want?

A blurry of thoughts passed through your mind. But none of these questions would be answered. You were knocked out, and soon met darkness. Betrayal was the last emotion you felt before everything faded to black.


Yoosung

  • V had lied. Again.
  • It was the second time he’d lost someone, and both times it was because V was careless.
  • You had gone missing, and even when Yoosung begged and begged Seven, you could not be found. Seven really did try to find you, but all traces of your disappearance had been skillfully erased
  • Yoosung snapped.
  • He screamed at V, pushing and shoving him to the wall.
  • “WHY MUST I LOSE EVERYONE WHO BECOMES IMPORTANT TO ME BECAUSE OF YOU? First Rika… Now MC… SHE TRUSTED US. IT WAS YOU WHO LET HER JOIN THE RFA. IT WAS YOU WHO SAID IT WAS SAFE. YOU SAID IT WAS SAFE FOR HER TO GO HOME! YOU SWORE WITH YOUR LIFE, V, YOU SWORE!”
  • Yoosung was a mess at this point, sobbing into his knees. He had his hands on his head, looking as betrayed as he felt.
  • His voice quieted down to a whimper, “You swore with your life, V. So why are you still here?” He laughed humourlessly, eyes glazed over coldly.
  • “You lied, V,” he choked on his tears, “You lied, again.”

Zen

  • He tried to stay optimistic, he really did.
  • “Seven, you can hack into anything, right? You’ve infiltrated countries, this should be a piece of cake, right?”
  • But he couldn’t hide the fact that he was only desperately holding on.
  • He’s an actor, so he should have been able to act like he was okay. He should’ve been able to act like this didn’t affect him. But it did.
  • You had always been so supportive of his acting career, despite hardly knowing him. He’d genuinely felt a connection with you. And he respected you for being able to tolerate Jumin Han, the man he despised. And now you had been kidnapped.
  • Your disappearance hit him so hard, he got drunk every night, and he was so hungover in the mornings, he couldn’t even go to rehearsals.
  • He went for long, LONG rides on his motorcycle. He couldn’t sleep.
  • He hadn’t even known you for that long, but it just hit him so hard.
  • Why did good people like you have to suffer bad experiences?
  • He just couldn’t understand.

Jaehee

  • God.
  • You know, she had been working under Jumin for so long, she had become unable to express herself and her own desires. Her first priority had always been her work, and she was generally emotionless and went along with her orders.
  • Until you had come along.
  • You had really talked to her. Not formal business talk, or careless small talk, but you had REALLY talked to her. You had listened to her.
  • Jaehee had always had to listen to Jumin, listen to her boss, listen to orders, listen to her colleagues making fun of her for being so busy, listen to Seven’s bullshit… It had always been her who listened to others. But not you.
  • YOU asked for her opinions, and you would agree with her at times. You really took an interest in her interests and hobbies, like her coffee and watching Zen’s plays. You… you had been her friend.
  • And she’d already lost you.
  • She still had to go to work, and she was just as efficient, but if someone really paid attention, one would find a tired Jaehee burying her face into her hands in stress every now and then. Aha. Not that anyone would pay attention now. You had been the only person who seemed to care, and you were already gone.

(I wasn’t sure how to write this, since I didn’t know if he should be aware of Mint Eye or not… I decided against it. It can be requested though..)

  • He blamed himself more than anyone else could.
  • You had trusted him and his words, and he had completely betrayed your trust.
  • He had never wanted you to be in danger. God, no. You were innocent in the entire situation. You had been dragged into this all because of him. All because he had agreed to let you join the RFA.
  • You could’ve been safe at Jumin’s apartment. So what if Jumin was a little possessive? Your safety would’ve been guaranteed. There were bodyguards to protect you there, and there would definitely be more evidence to work with.
  • V had been the last person to see you, as he had been the one to drop you off at the apartment. He should’ve walked inside with you. He should’ve checked the apartment before he left.
  • Instead, he’d pushed all responsibility to Seven, foolishly believing that Seven would be able to watch after her from the security cameras.
  • V hated himself for letting you down. For letting everyone down.

Jumin

  • He had trusted V.
  • V had never, ever lied to him, and he was fully aware that V was a kind man, and had no bad intentions.
  • So when V had sworn that you would be safe at the apartment, Jumin let you go.
  • … He should’ve trusted his own instincts.
  • But he didn’t blame V.
  • All these years, V had remained by his side, through thick and thin. V had always been more considerate of others than himself, and Jumin felt that he was a good friend. His best friend, even.
  • On one hand, he knew that it wasn’t V’s fault. How could it have been predicted that you would be kidnapped? On the other hand, shouldn’t V have checked more carefully that it was safe for you to return to the apartment?
  • Jumin buried himself in work, silently taking on difficult tasks in a large quantity. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to doubt V. He didn’t want to worry about you. He just didn’t want to feel, and he didn’t want to think.
  • But every day he got home, he was reminded of you.
  • The clothes he had bought for you that you left behind… the laundry that you forgot to wash… the dishes you had used… the way you had played with Elizabeth the 3rd… the way you had laid down comfortably on the couch…
  • He kept your bedroom the way you had left it, locking it shut. When he’d seen a maid trying to open the door one morning, he ended up snapping at her, “DON’T TOUCH IT. Don’t even taint the doorknob with your filthy hands, goddammit! Get away from the door. GET OUT!”
  • Some nights, he gave into his emotions, drunkenly calling RFA members and begging them to return you to him. To stop hiding you. To stop pretending you were missing.
  • He wished it was pretend.
  • Even Zen felt tears brim in his eyes when he heard the broken tone and tears in Jumin’s voice.
  • He missed you.
  • They all missed you.

Seven

  • He couldn’t even be bothered to continue his cheery, annoying act after you disappeared.
  • He turned away all of Vanderwood’s missions, ignoring it completely.
  • Instead, Seven spent hours upon hours, days upon days locked up in his room, searching every tenth of a millisecond of the security camera’s feed. He kept trying to find clues of your kidnapping. He hacked into the city’s cameras to find the car you were in, but to no avail, there was nothing.
  • Seven lost his appetite for even Honey Buddha Chips, throwing it up when he tried to force them in his mouth. He was living on purely Dr. Pepper now, and god knows when he’ll get tired of that, too.
  • Seven was simply devastated.
  • He felt responsible for your disappearance. He should’ve been more careful.
  • He could’ve attached a GPS to your body, not just your phone. He could’ve installed more security cameras, even if it invaded your privacy. Security > privacy. He could’ve gone to your apartment to protect you, instead of cowardly hiding behind the screens.
  • Could’ve.
  • But didn’t.
  • It was too late.
  • He could never protect anyone. Not his mother, not his twin brother, not you.
  • He was useless. Absolutely useless.

anonymous asked:

Hey can you write a fic where Betty or Jughead loses their memory and the other one tries to get them to remember them or if they can't remember make them gall in love with each other all over again?

He was going to throw up, he was almost one hundred percent certain he was going to throw up.

“What do you mean she can’t remember?” Alice Coopers shaky voice came from his right.

“The accident caused trauma to her brain, the area that stores her memories seems to be damaged, most of these cases are temporary but… we can only try our best to help her to recover.” The Doctor placed his clipboard down and spoke in hushed tones to Betty’s father.

Alice was pushing through the crowd, Veronica hot on her tail as they entered the hospital room belonging to Betty. Jughead didn’t follow, he stood frozen in place staring at the room number, his head repeating the words over and over again.

“Severe amnesia, memory loss, she won’t know who you are…or who she is.”

A familiar hand clutched his shoulder

“She needs you man. Now more than ever.” Archie’s eyes were red rimmed, his fingers shaky. Jughead shook his hand off

“I gotta go.” He stepped away slowly, eyes frantically searching the halls, Archie fell back almost as if he’d been slapped.

“Go? Where are you going? She needs you man! You can’t run away from this.”

It was too late Jughead was already slamming through the sliding glass doors of the hospital and jumping in his fathers old pick up truck. He couldn’t do this, not Betty. He couldn’t sit there and watch her fade right in front of his eyes, not when it was his fault.

He should have picked her up, she had called him, told him her car didn’t sound right and that she needed a ride, she couldn’t miss another cheerleading practice. But no, Jughead had been with the Serpents he had been so caught up in the new lifestyle he had told Betty he was busy and he would talk to her tonight.

Her car broke down on the side of the highway and with her lights out a Semi Tractor Trailer hadn’t seen the tiny Mini Cooper and had sent her flying through the guard rail and into a ditch.

“Idiot” he mumbled, smacking his head against the steering wheel “she was your girlfriend you idiot.” He moaned to himself, heavy rain drop shaped tears spilling all over his lap as he pulled his dark waves desperately.

He couldn’t face her, he just couldn’t.

It was a week later when Veronica showed up at his doorstep, sky high stilettos and pearls perfectly in place.

“She needs you. Now.” She had growled, pulling him by the arm, dark purple nails digging into his arm as she shoved him in his truck. “She’s at Pops, you are hurting my best friend. Don’t you get how confused she is? Don’t you get how much she needs you?! She loves you, and while I totally don’t get why considering how awful you’ve been acting, the fact of the matter is that’s she does, she may not remember it but she does. So go. Now.”

Jughead was never one to defy an angry woman so with lightning speed he drove to Pops, nearly sprinting through the doors.

He found her almost instantly, tucked into a corner booth staring intently at a wrapped straw, a strawberry milkshake in front of her. Jughead made his way slowly, watching as she played with the paper.

“Hi.” Jughead cleared his throat, looming over the table anxiously.

Betty looked up, her eyes cloudy but still the same bright green.

“Hello. I know you, I know that I know you but I just… I can’t remember how.” She spoke softly, almost unsure. Jughead nodded, taking a seat across from her. Betty’s eyes fell back on the straw.

“Everything okay?”

With slightly teary eyes Betty looked up with a watery smile.
“I know that it’s silly to be crying but… I don’t know how to open this. I know that my favorite flavor is strawberry but I don’t know how to open a straw.” She let the tears fall freely and Jughead was quick to reach across the table and unwrap the straw, handing it to her gently.

“Thankyou.” She whispered, taking a sip,her eyes going wide.

“We’ve done this before?” She asked curiously. Jughead swallowed the lump in his throat and choked out

“Yeah, yeah we have.”

“Rebel without a cause.” Betty whispered again, eyes squeezing shut before flinging open “I liked Archie?” She questioned “why on earth would I do that?”

Jughead laughed loudly, the first genuine laugh he had had in a week.

“Good question.” Jughead chuckled.

The beautiful blonde closed her eyes again, relishing in the familiar laugh

“We kissed. We…we were on a counter, you picked me up? Why can I remember all of this with you but I can’t even remember my mothers birthday.” She looked at Jughead genuinely confused, he reached out to clutch her hands from across the table.

“I don’t know Betty, I don’t know why any of this happened but I’m here. I’m going to be here for you because… my name is Jughead Jones and I’m your boyfriend and I love you so much. Betts I love you and we’re going to get through this.” He promised, bringing her newly scarred palms to his lips.

“A lover and a fighter.” She whispered, staring deep into his stormy blue eyes.

“Only for you Betty Cooper, only for you.”

bones | 05 ✓

• pairing: jung hoseok x reader // min yoongi x reader, college! hoseok, college! yoongi
• genre/warnings: angst, fluff
• words: 9,245
→ summary: you were broken from a past relationship, and Hoseok wanted to fix you, but what price was he willing to pay? Would he end up worse off, or would you realise in time, that your best friend was the one…?
• note. inspired by this song here.

  » playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 ✓

a/n: it’s finally the end, sobsss.  

Keep reading

di  asked:

i can't do emojis rip but magic AU w/ neil n andrew!!!!

When Nathaniel is six years old, he sets his bed on fire. The smell of smoke and his mother’s screams wake him, but the flames lick gently at his skin like an affectionate pet. Nathaniel, six years old and sleepy, doesn’t understand why his mother clutches him to her chest and whispers harshly in his ear to never, never let the fire loose again. “Don’t let your father see,” she says, and clutches at his shoulders so hard he’ll have bruises the next morning and shakes him until Nathaniel promises.

They’re called powers, he learns later, or gifts, or blessings. At thirteen percent of the population, powered people are too common to be rare but too strange to be trusted. Most go to special schools to train their abilities, but Nathaniel doesn’t because he isn’t powered.

“You’re cursed,” his mother tells him. “Fire is dangerous, deadly. You must never use it, and you must never tell anyone.”

It’s his cardinal rule, though it’s joined, over the years, by others. Don’t disobey your father. Don’t tell anyone how you got injured. Play Exy like your life depends on it.

But always, always, hide your fire.

When Nathaniel is ten years old, he plays Exy with Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day. They’re good, better than him, and Nathaniel has gotten used to being the best in his little league team. He struggles against them, struggles against Kevin’s height and Riko’s brutality, and it’s fun but he’s frustrated. His fire has become more wild lately, burning under his skin, angry at being chained, and it burns higher and hotter inside him every time they score a goal against him, until finally he clashes against Riko and fire races along Nathaniel’s racquet as he slams it against Riko’s in an attempt to steal the ball.

They freeze, staring as one as the net of Nathaniel’s racquet turns to ash.

Finally, Riko says, “my uncle didn’t say you were powered.”

Nathaniel pulls the fire back into himself and it simmers under his skin as he shakes his head in denial or disbelief or regret.

Riko laughs, and Nathaniel turns to see him grinning. “This is good, Nathaniel! All the Ravens are powered, it’s what makes them the best team in the world.” Behind him, Kevin nods but stays quiet. Riko’s expression turns contemplative. “You need to be trained. If you come live here, I can train you.”

The chance to play Exy and use his power everyday. It’s everything Nathaniel’s mother has warned him against, but everything Nathaniel has ever wanted. “I’d like that,” he says, hoarse, and Riko’s grin thins to a smirk, triumphant.

But then Nathaniel’s father carves a man into bits in the lushly carpeted conference room, and Nathaniel’s mother takes him in the dead of night. Nathaniel leaves behind his name and his Exy racquet and his fire.

Keep reading

BTS Reaction: having to break up with their idol gf because of her entertainment rules (she can't date) [requested]

*I am sorry I am so late with this.

Sorry for any errors.


Suga:

“I don’t give a fuck about what they say. I don’t think we should break up.” he said blankly. “They can shove those rules up their ass.”

“Yoongi, it wasn’t just a suggestion they threw at me. I have to break up with you or they are going to kick me out.”

“No they won’t, trust me. I have seen other trainees get away with alot more!”

“It doesn’t matter what other trainees do, it matters what I do! You know I have gone through so much shit to get to this point and now I am finally going to debut! You know this dream means so much to me!”

“…But don’t I mean something to you? You don’t even want to fight for us! I know if this was the other way around, you would be begging me to do everything i could for us to stay together, so why aren’t you doing the same?”

“Yoongi, I am in no position to go against authority. You know this.”

He looked back at you with blank expression. The only signal of any type of emotion was him clenching his jaw. “..;Fine. I guess we are broken up then.”

Originally posted by imonaworldtour

Rap Monster:

“No!”

You let out a deep sigh. “Namjoon.”

“Just let me talk to them. Maybe I can convince them to let us stay together.”

You grabbed his hands, holding them tight. “Namjoon, I got lucky that I got away with a warning. I don’t want to risk getting in anymore trouble.”

He nodded at you in understanding.

“So we have to break up.” your voice cracked as you repeated that sentence.

He nodded again, feeling his lip tremble. “Ah, I get it. I had the same rules too… I don- I don’t know. I was hoping the rules would be different by now…” He looked up at you only  to see you crying. “Baby, don’t cry.” he said bringing you in to a hug.

You nestled your crying face in the crook if his neck. “Baby, its for the best.” He said softly. “You are going to do performances, and get more fans and do fan signings and be on tv and on the radio. You are going to be able to do all that because of all the work you put in and all the talent you have. You don’t need me annoying you for attention when you are going to be the biggest female idol out there.” He whispered. 

Originally posted by ksjknj

V:

He let out  a nervous chuckle. “Hm, I kinda expected this whole meet up to be over something different.” He tried to keep his voice up beat, but it was too hard..

“If i had it my way, it would just be another date… but i had to say this before things got anymore serious between us.” you mumbled as you played with your fingers. You couldn’t get yourself to look up at him. You knew if you did, you would probably start crying.

“Well, this doesn’t mean a complete break right? Like, we can still talk every now and then right? Maybe meet up and hang out every so often? We can still be friends right?” He asked optimistically. 

You let a heavy breath. He didn’t want to be away from you just much as you didn’t want to be away from him. It made this whole thing hurt even more. “Yeah!” you lied.

You knew you wouldn’t handle being friends with V, it would hurt too much. If he was going to be in your life, you wanted him to be a huge part of it, anything less wasn’t gonna cut it.

You snuck a peek at him. He had a frown on his face as he stared into space. He knew you were lying. He knew staying in touch wasn’t going to work, but he just wanted to have hope. 

When he caught you staring, he tried to smile. “Well my friend, I guess it is bye for now, you have practice in the morning.” he said softly.

Originally posted by saikokpop

Jimin:

“I don’t see why we have to break up though.” he repeated for the fourth time. 

“Those are the rules!” 

“I know those are the rule, but there are ways around them!” He insisted.

You looked back at him through blurry vision. “Jimin, there is no way around this.”

 “They said you can’t date, but want does it mean to “date”? We can just stay the way we are, we just won’t giving each other a label! We don’t have use the labels boyfriend/girlfriend.If we are “just friends” they can’t do anything about it.” he reasoned.

“They could still kick me out…” those words quickly broke his spirit. “Fans could hate on me, attack me, they could hate on my group and reject us to the point that we disband…There is to much on the line right now Jimin, and you know that.”

He stayed quiet.

“I care for you so much Jimin, I want us to stay together, but it isn’t just me that has their dream on the line. I can’t put the rest of my members through anymore trouble just because I am being selfish. Two of my other members broke up with their boyfriends, what right do I have to go against the company?” 

Still, he was silent.

You cupped his face, gliding your thumbs over his cheeks for what would be the last time.“I don’t want to end us… but for now we can’t be the way we are.” you said in a low hush.

He leaned in for a kiss. His soft lips on yours were for what felt like only a split second before he pulled away. “…I know…” he frowned.

Originally posted by jikookdetails

Jhope:

It was early in the morning and he struggled to get last minute sleep as he and the rest of BTS were crammed in a van and were being driven off to a TV studio to do some performance on some show.

He couldn’t care less about the things around him, all he wanted to do was go back to sleep and return to a dream he had the night before, a dream that Y/n was in. He hadn’t seen her in months and then suddenly he had a dream about her. He didn’t realize how much he missed her until now. 

It was in his failed attempts to go back to dreamland and that he saw it. He looked out the window and saw a huge picture of Y/n. She and the rest of her band mates were plastered on a billboard advertising their next comeback.

“Hobi…”

“But I don’t want to!”

“Niether do I, but I have to” she whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

He wiped his own away, trying to steady his voice again.”But we’ve already been dating for a year now, why do they suddenly want us to break up?!?”

Y/n hid her face in her hands.”I never told them.” she confessed. “That is why my manager got so pissed the other day when he saw you kiss me.” 

He ran his fingers fingers through his hair. “You haven’t been kicked out, so does this mean you are on probation?” he asked in a serious tone. 

She nodded. “One more screw up and I’m out.” she said with a cracking voice. “The only reason they didn’t kick me out is because we debuted. They don’t want the rest of the girls to look bad just because I fucked up.” she sobbed.

“You didn’t fuck up. It’s just the fucked up rules that’s all.” he mumbled.

That was all he could remember as he looked at the poster of Y/n and her group. She was a beautiful as ever up on that poster. Her smile was wide as could be as she stood at the front of her group. He remembered all that times she cried to him over how stressed she was and how nervous she was over debuting. He remembered how lonely he has been without her, but seeing her up on that poster, all he could think was. “She did it!”

Originally posted by nnochu

Jungkook:

“You can’t be serious?” he huffed

“He made me an example and yelled at me in front of all the other trainees… All my members hate me right now.” You sniffled, holding back your tears. “I was so scared. I thought he was going to kick me out!”

He pulled you into a hug. “It’s gonna be alright.” he whispered to you. “We’ll… Ok- we’ll just have to break up…” he sighed.

“But Kookie, I don’t want to. I really don’t.” you said into his chest, gripping on to his sweater.

“How many years have you trained?” he asked randomly

You looked up at him. “Huh?”

“How many years have you trained?” he repeated.

“Four.”

“And how many hours do you sleep a night because of all the practice?” 

“…Five sometimes.”

“And how long have you wanted to be an idol?”

“…For as long as I can remember.’ you answered softly.

“See, you don’t want to throw away a dream like that. You don’t want to put in all that work in for nothing.” He said with a shaky voice. “Don’t ruin your plans just for me.”

Originally posted by jungkookfortunekookies

Jin:

“I knew this was all too good to be true.” He groaned.

You stayed quiet with your head hanging low.

“I should have known better.” he whispered more to himself. “I was so stupid to think that they would change the rules just because you were with me.”

“But it was worth a shot.” you whimpered as you wiped your tears away.

He brought you into a loose hug, too sad to really move his arms.

That was when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and soon the ringtone you had for your manager began to ring. You knew why he was calling so you didn’t bother to pick up the phone. “Jin… I have to go. They only gave me enough time to break up.” You said softly.

His arms tightened around you, yours tightening around him and he gave you a last kiss.

“Bye Jin.” you said as you left out the door without a second look.

“Bye Y/n.” he said, standing in an empty room and staring longingly at the door you left from.

Originally posted by jiminahhh

-Admin Boat

No Inhibitions

I wanna follow where she goes, I think 
about her and she knows it.
Oh, I’ve been shaking, I love it when you go
crazy. You take all my inhibitions. 
You take me places that tear up
my reputation, manipulate my decisions.
Cause if we lost our minds and we took it way too far. 
I know we’d be alright. If you were by my side and we 
stumbled in the dark, I know we’d be alright.


Tom had been lucky enough to meet [Y/N]. It had been at a party in downtown San Francisco, everyone under the sun was invited to that party. It was wild. People were stumbling through rooms, slurring their words, crawling down the stairs, slinging liquor around, and the music had been so loud, Tom could feel it in his bones every time his heart would beat. 

After some drinks were in his system, he came across the pretty singer lounging on the balcony. With all the liquid courage he had consumed, it was easy to talk to her and when they decided to meet up days later on sober accords, it was even better. 

She had shown him around her home. Took him to places he would have never seen or even bothered to go to. [Y/N] was a different kind of person with a different kind of life, and he enjoyed every bit of it. She was a singer, someone who took great pride in music and made it her life. [Y/N] knew all the best places to go for someone who had never experienced that kind of thing. He had a fun ride that week he stayed in San Francisco. Part of him, never wanting to leave and the other part wanting to take her with him back to London. Take her to his home, show her his kind of life. But with her about to embark on her first ever world tour, he knew he couldn’t. 

It had been a months since the two of them had last seen each other but it had only been a few days since they last spoke. They kept in touch, him finding parts of him he never knew about when he was talking with her. [Y/N] was a wild child and he loved it. She had no limitations and saw the world as her oyster. Tom really liked that about her, her ability to just do what she wanted because no one could tell her otherwise. She wasn’t afraid of anything.

[Y/N] didn’t care what the media thought of her or what kind of consequences her actions would have. She lived in the now. It was exhilarating to be involved with someone like that. All she did care about were her fans and what they thought of her. [Y/N] never wanted to disappoint her fans but just like Tom, they loved that she was carefree and erratic. 


“Very convenient that you live so close to home.” [Y/N] commented as Tom led her into his apartment. She looked around, chuckling to herself. It was obvious that a guy lived here. Not that it was messy but the lack of decor and reason gave it away. 

Tom gave a nervous chuckle, “Yeah, mum found it and I thought why the hell not.” He walked towards his kitchen, “Want a beer? I was actually going to move to Los Angeles.”  

[Y/N] gave him a dazzling smile, the kind of smile that would cause him to lose his train of thought if he were to be in the middle of a conversation with someone else. “You know I do.” Following him, she thanked him when he gave her a bottle. “And that would have been easier than a ten hour flight. We could meet in less than two hours by plane.” 

Sipping on his own, he smiled. “I know but London’s my home, you know? Speaking of which how are you liking London?” Tom was ecstatic that she was finally done with her ninety-four day tour. And he was especially happy that she decided to fly out to London to give it a chance. He had talked it up so much and [Y/N] had only spent a few days in it during her tour that she wanted to experience it more. So, she enlisted in the best tour guide there was. 

Shrugging, she took a sip. “It’s alright.” Flashing him another one of those smiles, she followed him to his couch. Taking a seat on the opposite end, she pivoted towards him. “But, I can see the appeal.” 

Tom pretended to feel offended, “London is the best, way better than your San Francisco.” 

“We will see about that.” She laughed.

Tom was about to respond but received multiple text messages. Reaching into his pocket, he juggled his beer and his phone. Opening the texts, he internally groaned at them. Just before they had gone to his apartment, he had stopped by his parents home to introduce [Y/N], really to Tessa, but also his family. They ended up staying for dinner even though he had tried to stress that he was going to take [Y/N] to his favorite pub. 

[Y/N] quirked a brow, “You okay? Look like you’re reading something bad.” 

Tom gave a nervous chuckle, “What? Oh, no. Nothing bad.” Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he shook his head, “It’s nothing, not bad. Uh, just my family texting me…about you, that’s all.” 

Smirking, “About me? Should I run for the hills?” [Y/N] wouldn’t deny that how she was portrayed in the media was a wild child. If she was on the outside looking at herself, she’d be a little weary. But, she always held herself to be respectful and kind. 

He shook his head, laughing. Looking at his beer bottle, he sighed. “Actually, no. Quite the opposite.” 

This time, her brow quirked in curiosity. “The opposite? Most people think I’m reckless.” 

Sucking in air, he debated if he should reveal what the messages were saying. Tilting his head back and forth, he just went for it. “Nah, my mum really likes you. I think she likes that you’re determined and spontaneous.” Looking back down at his bottle, he started to peel the label. “She told me that I should take you on a date…..” 

“A date, hm?” [Y/N] murmured with a bit of humor in her words. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “And dad agrees.” 

Sipping on her beer some more, she chuckled. “The dreaded what are we to each other conversation hasn’t even come up and I’m already pre-approved.” She winked. [Y/N] wouldn’t lie about it but she did find Tom to be rather desirable. Far from the kind that she usually gravitated towards, usually the bad boys that used her. [Y/N] had a thing for bad boys, accents, and brains. Tom wasn’t necessarily a bad boy but he was an actor, it wouldn’t surprise her to find him in that kind of role eventually and her to go crazy. But, he had an accent and from what she had learned from their friendship was that he was incredibly smart as well. 

“That’s rare, you know.” Tom pointed out. “Usually my parents find at least one thing that they don’t like about the girls I’ve brought home.” 

“Give them time, I’m a book of flaws.” She muttered. 

“I don’t know,” Tom answered, “You’re pretty popular out here in London. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least bit if my parents knew all about you.” 

“Yikes.” [Y/N] chuckled. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she shrugged. “Although, dating you wouldn’t be bad.” 

This surprised him, “What?” 

“Come on, Tom.” She breathed, giving him a smirk. “You’re hot.” She laughed at his facial expression “But let’s be honest, you couldn’t handle me.” 

He rose a brow, “You don’t think I can handle you? I spent four nights in a row drinking myself into oblivion with you.” 

“Oh, Tom.” She sighed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.” Pursing her lips, [Y/N] thought about if she should go into detail. Running her tongue over her teeth, she leaned forward. “What I mean is that, I’m a very intimate person.” Tilting her head, she smirked a little. “Out in public, I might be a little out of control but typically reserved but behind close doors,” leaning back, she snickered. “it’s a whole different world. That is what you couldn’t handle.” 

Tom could feel his insides burning at the thought of what she could be like behind closed doors. Deciding to be a little brave, he shot back with, “How do you know if you haven’t tried?” 

“A little bold, aren’t we?” She commented. 

He shrugged, “You said I couldn’t handle you but I think you’re wrong.” 

“Wrong, huh?” She mused. Taking another swig of her beer, “Alright.” She set down the bottle on his side table before climbing over and sitting in his lap.

“Wha? What are you doing?” Tom stammered.

Smirking a smirk that sent chills down his back, she leaned forward. “I’m about to prove you wrong.”  Without giving Tom a second to register what she meant, she pressed her lips against his. Rocking forward, she nipped his lips before he finally kissed back. It didn’t take long for the heat to build up in their bodies.

Her nails were digging into his shoulders while his were digging into her hips. Tom had never felt a kiss be so exhilarating before. It was a different kind of feeling that he had never felt and it was already too late because he was addicted. A feeling of a grand euphoria pouring out of her lips and into his. He’d bet that kissing [Y/N] was just like taking ecstasy all night. 

Pulling from him, she nipped down his neck and all over his collarbone before going back to where it started. Kissing him for a few more seconds, she chuckled against his lips and pulled away completely. She tore herself away from him and stood up. Walking back to where her beer sat, she snatched it up and took a good swig. “I’ll admit, Holland. I’m a bit impressed by your kissing skills. Who have you been snogging?” 

Tom gave her an amused look, “Ha, ha.” He was still in a bit of a high to really concentrate on scolding her for mocking him. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his fuzzy thoughts. Running a hand over his hair, he muttered out, “Bloody Hell.” 

Plopping down next to him, she leaned her head back. “Too much?” 

Tom rubbed his jaw, glancing over at her. “Not enough, actually.” 

She gave a loose laugh, quirking a brow. “I’m warning you.” Sitting up straight, she looked at him sincerely. “You do not want to get involved with me.” 

“I think I do.” Tom whispered, staring into her eyes. Getting lost in them, wondering what kind of things they’d get themselves into. He wasn’t nervous like he had been with his previous girl friends. Something about [Y/N] was calming with a bit of lust for adventure. 

[Y/N] shook her head, “You really don’t. I’m a mess, Tom. I’m indecisive, a work-a-holic, impulsive, irresponsible, irrational, and slightly neurotic.” She smiled lightly, shaking her head again. “Those aren’t good qualities to have to be worthy of your affection.” 

Tom smiled sincerely, turning, he brought his hands to her face, cradling her worried expression in his hands. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can take over the world. All my insecurities and everything I’ve ever thought badly of myself just disappears. I don’t care if you’re indecisive, impulsive, or irrational. That just makes you, you. And I’m a work-a-holic too, I love my job. Acting is something I want to do forever. And the whole neurotic thing? Well, that can be easily medicated.” Tom smirked, winking after his medicated joke. 

She laughed, “You are insane to justify my bad traits.” 

Tom dropped his hands and pressed his lips together. “I like you, [Y/N]. I do. Life with you sounds great, amazing actually. You’re saying no without giving it a chance.” 

[Y/N] grabbed his hand, “Because I’m trying to spare you from my crazy, chaotic life.” 

“I don’t need sparing, love. I can handle my own. I promise.” 

[Y/N] stared at him for a few minutes, pressing her lips together as well. She couldn’t lie that the connection she had with the Brit was amazing, she missed being with him during her crazy tour days. [Y/N] spent her nights singing, dancing, and drinking. And every single time, she’d have a moment of clarity and miss the one person she told herself not to catch feelings for. 

She lived a fast paced life, it was what she always wanted. [Y/N] wasn’t sure if she had room for a relationship. But, it didn’t mean she didn’t crave it. She wanted both. She wanted him. Sucking in air, she set down her beer, “Fine.” 

“Fine?” Tom questioned. 

Nodding, “Yup. Fine.” She smirked, “You don’t want to heed my warning, Tom. Then okay. Buckle up, love. Loving me will be one hell of a joyride.” Moving in close, she grabbed his chin and crashed her lips against his. Enjoying the moment and relishing that for once aside from pursuing her dream that making this decision would be the best one yet. Pulling apart just long enough for her to whisper against his lips, “Because there’s nothing holding me back.” 


@juliechavira , @liarswolfdiaries , @rosiecanwrite , @makkkkkkkkkkkk , @comewhatbullshit , @sanjariti , @brielleofthemyscira,  @firstgal34 , @ inexplicablehumanbean, @hope1this1name1isnt1taken , @alexrobinson-and-cats , @igirl7plus-sky , @gray-rose13 , @canvis-art15 , @lyssa-29 , @justabravelittleblogger , @rileyxeverything , @fireismysaftey , @babylovejongin , @isabella-mae13 , @methemedjack , @marchiemoore , @chanandlerphalangesparkles , @dr-tardis-who @lilyft-holland , @xindefinite , @bellamy5ever, @myurlhere , @dear-jeon , @thickthighs-greeneyes , @fav-fan-fic, @itsanngie00 , @johely00 , @afreckledwinchester@letskeepeverythingsecret , @moonandstars-xo , @laura0231 , @pharaohkiller , @paradise-in-a-chaotic-world , @fstobsessed , @laurenstewart01 , @nervouswastelandvoid , @mollathon , @tomholland-96
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I may have missed a few people but um….please, please, please don’t ask me to ever start a tag list. I give props to those who them. That took forever. :)

I know I can't

Here’s week 2 of grace can’t write! Langst edition <3 Sorry if there’s feels, slightly based on a true story. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 1355

-

Practically collapsing, Lance draped over the couch in the common room with the rest of the team. A mission to free, not one, but two planets at the same time from Zarkons rule left the team tired and injured but no one even had enough energy to bring themselves to the crypods. They just wanted to sleep forever and forget about Lotor, or Zarkon, or whoever stands in between the paladins and their rest. “Paladins, up and ready! Now!” Though they loved her, everyone couldn’t help but groan when Alluras demands rung through their heads. They knew it was yet another Political Meeting but no one had enough energy to deal with aliens right now; no one was gonna disrespect the princess so one by one every one stood up and stretched.

They’ve already landed, so when they exited the ship they were bombarded by screams and cheers of the newly freed aliens. Lance, only trying to joke around, stood in front of the group bowing in to the crowd. Shiro rolled his eyes and smiled, while the rest of the group had a small smile and continued walking down to the planets headquarters, but not everyone enjoyed the blue paladins show. When he ran down to catch up with the others he couldn’t help but overhear some of the mummers, but decided to ignore them.

As his team was finally coming into sight again, he sped up but only ended up tripping over himself and onto his best friend, sending them to the ground. Already knowing that everyone was staring, he quickly stood up and brushed himself off before offering a hand to Hunk. In a hushed whisper he stammered, “sorry man,” but the larger man thought nothing of it until they heard a loud cough. Lance diverts his attention to the towering alien in front of him, which he could only assume was the prince. He murmured another sorry to the prince before hiding in between Shiro and Hunk.

“As I was saying before we were, ahem interrupted, it would be an honor to support ‘responsible’ allies in this war. I, Prince Zahir would love to create and alliance.” The stress on responsible was not a secret to the team as he stared straight at Lance when saying so. Zahir took another look at the blue paladin, before continuing into their headquarters, motioning for the paladins and alteans to follow. Without skipping a beat the Prince started stating things about the lions, some of which Lance hasn’t heard before.

“If I remember the tales from my father correctly the blue lion is a miracle of what you humans call the ocean. The blue paladin must be courteous, agile,” glancing back he couldn’t help but scoff. “He MUST be courteous, agile, and graceful; a paladin that is willing to support his team. He is the right leg after all.” Lance was sure that the entire solar system could feel how tense Hunk was getting, after all this stuck up prince was insulting his best friend. Feeling Lances hand rest on his shoulder, Hunk calmed down a bit but he didn’t let his guard down.

The rest of the meeting seemed to have moved off of the subject of the blue paladin, and onto more urgent affairs dealing with an alliance. However just as the meeting was coming to a close, both sides fairly happy, Zahir requested for a private chat with the Allura off to the side. He know he shouldn’t have, but Lance couldn’t help easvesdropping as they were still only a few feet away from him. Not to mention it didn’t matter, as the prince still spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear. “If you don’t mind me asking princess, how is the search for the blue paladin going?”

Allura took a step back, not knowing what to say about the the new allies comment. “Excuse me?”

Only paining Lance more, the prince couldn’t help but chuckle as he continued. “Surely that can’t be the true blue paladin? He lacks everything the blue paladin is known for.” The entire team was on their feet approaching the two. Shiro and Pidge were approaching cautiously, knowing very well how close they were snapping. On the other hand, Hunk and Keith were already leaving heavy foot steps and heavier breaths with every inch closed between them and the one insulting their blue paladin. Before anyone could defend him, Lance spoke up coming the closest to the prince, “may I?” Everyone took a step back but remained ready to fight.

“I know I’m not special. I’m not as intelligent as Hunk and Pidge are, I’m not nearly as skilled in close combat as Shiro and Keith are, and I’m far from an ideal paladin. I’m not this amazing paladin that you have stated, and I have no idea where that paladin may be. I am the new paladin, Lance Mcclain. I’m a los level fighter pilot and the runner up to Keith Kogane. I am just a boy from Cuba, but I am the blue paladin and this is my team.” He could hear his team take a step closer to him, left in a state of shock after what he has said. Keith even tried to close the distance between them and hug him but Lance only took another step forward, closer to the prince and away from his team.

“I assure you that you will not have to worry. I will pay more attention to what I will and will not do in the future. You won’t have to worry your royal little head about the Blue paladin that’s holding Voltron and the future of the galaxy back.”

“Lance, stop -”

“I do hope we can continue this alliance and defeat Zarkon together in the near future.” Letting his stance fall with his sentence, the blue paladin turned sharply and rushed back into the Castle of Lions. Hunk, bayard equipped, was torn between giving the snob prince a piece of his mind or rushing after the obviously distressed paladin. In the end, he let Zahir off and ran towards the castle with the others. They alerted Coran of the situation and started searching for Lance but he was nowhere to be found. Only two hours later, did Hunk stumble out of the castle defeated on where his friend might be. He stared at the stars a bit wondering 'come on bud, I know you love staring at the constellations. Where are you?’ After a bit he sighed and turned back to head into the castle when he spotted something on the very tip of main building. He put on his helmet and broadcasted to the others, “guys I think I found him.” He alerted them of where he’ll be before using his jet pack to hover next to his life long friend.

He tried to grab Lances attention, but ended up only startling the already jumpy paladin. Luckily, Hunk caught him before he could fall, and he slowly descended with Lance in his arms and across his chest. Even in the middle of the night, the stars lit up Lances puffy and tear ridden eyes. Still in Hunks arms, Lance started bawling and Hunk held him sat down to hold him closer. Leaning back, he took in the face of the one who’s always been there for him. The tear stains that ran down his face like rain and every freckle that outlined like stars. In a husky voice, Hunk forced out three words “Leo the lion.”

Melting into the hand that now grazed his cheek he looked up, “what?”

“Did you realize that you have a set of freckles that makes the Leo constellation?” Lance pulled away from hunks hand, though he still held in place, staring at the boy in front of him. Then Hunk was blessed with the music playing as Lance started laughing. He hugged the shaking boy and kissed his cheek before picking him up bridal style and heading back into the Cassie where the rest awaited. “Come on, lets go tell everyone you’re still alive mi leon.”

Fanfiction - The Teacher

Request for a fic. Everyone is joking about professor Sam in Barbour. Could you write a professor Jamie story. Claire is a student but Older and more intriguing than all the young giggling co-eds

…In the meantime, I had this anon ask sitting on my inbox for some months now – and I’d hate to let this fantasy go unattended!

The Teacher

Those girls were ridiculous, Claire thought. Madly fluttering their eyelashes as if a constant influx of dust was getting into their eyes and always bending over, using the pretence of catching a fallen pen or pencil, only to expose their cleavage. Claire felt she was inside a documentary on the mating rituals of college girls and, even if slightly amusing, it also disturbed her in an irrational way.

Health Management was an extra class for her – a way to get a couple more credits that would speed up her academic course. She was already almost ten years the senior when compared to the other students attending Medical School – her years as a nurse had given her a lot of useful resources, but also made her feel she was constantly battling time. It was an interesting class, that mixed concepts of health and economics, to ensure the future doctors based their decisions in cost-effectiveness. In spite of being well taught and useful, whispering was a constant background noise – clearly the result of female hormones going rampant. The problem was not the subject, Claire knew – was the man leading the class.

Professor Fraser was young and remarkably handsome – his Scottish accent and deep voice, combined with astonishing blue eyes, which he hid behind black rimmed glasses, inspired great admiration amongst the women in the classroom. The fact that the class functioned at all was a testament to Fraser’s capacity of using leadership skills and imposing respect.

A couple of girls next to her giggled and Claire distinctively heard one of them, a blonde bombshell that undoubtedly belonged in a house named after a Greek alphabet letter, saying “I would slide my hand bellow his kilt anytime…”

Pursing her lips and rolling her eyes, Claire continued to sketch with her sharp pencil in the back of her notebook, struggling to focus again on the contents of the class. The shade in the external corner wasn’t quite right, she noticed, furrowing her brows in annoyance.

“Am I boring ye, Miss Beauchamp?” She heard a voice demanding her attention. Claire looked up and noticed all faces turned to her, clearly awaiting her reaction to being caught distracted. James Fraser stood next to the board with his arms crossed, his lips forming a half smile, expecting her answer.

Yes. “No, Professor Fraser.” She replied in a casual tone. “I was just taking notes and got distracted. May you repeat the question, please?”

“I see.” He said in a serious – disappointed? – tone. “Anyone knows the answer? Miss MacKenzie?”

“Replacing the blood gas machine would be the best measure.” Laoghaire MacKenzie glowed like a lit candle - marvelled that for once she had managed to upstage Claire and gain Professor Fraser’s attentions - offering a victorious look through the corner of her eye, which Claire blatantly ignored.

“That is correct.” He nodded, raising a brow in Claire’s direction. “I’d recommend that ye pay more attention to the class, Miss Beauchamp.”

“I bloody would if it wasn’t for your fan club.” Claire complained in a low voice, after he had resumed the class.

As the class ended – students rushing to the door to get to the refectory in time for lunch, talking about a hot party later that week -, Claire assembled her notebooks and pencil, storing them inside her green rucksack – made of what looked like army green fabric with a painted red cross, akin to something a doctor would wear during the Second World War.

“May I talk to you, Miss Beauchamp?” Professor Fraser asked politely, as she walked down the stairs in direction of the door. The room was almost deserted, only a couple of latecomers remained inside, struggling with coats and piles of books.

“Of course, Professor.” Claire stared at him, expectantly.

“Ye were distracted today.” He pointed, closing the book he had used to prepare the current subject. “Is something bothering ye, Claire?”

“No.” She firmly replied, her eyes downcast. “I’m sure I can’t be the first student you caught daydreaming. Why are you making such a big deal about it?”

Jamie gave her a concerned look, his blue eyes wrinkling in the corners. He was sporting a small stubble, that combined with his impeccable plaid shirt, gave him a look of casual handsomeness.

“Ye are one of the best students in the class.” He said slowly, neatly placing his books inside his own bag. “I wouldna like ye to squander yer potential. If something is disturbing ye, I’d like to help ye if I can, that’s all.”

“It’s fine.” She insisted in a harsher voice, her hands slightly trembling. “I don’t really need another man to tell me I’m not good enough and can’t handle things. Because I am quite capable!”

“I’m not saying ye aren’t, Miss Beauchamp.” He pointed patiently, glaring at her increasingly red face. “In fact, I think I just said quite the opposite.”

“I can’t focus because all the girls around me are acting like crazy hens, cackling over you!” She accused in a mordant voice, going completely berserk despite her best rational alarms going off in the outskirts of her brain. “I’m here to study – I have so much to learn still and my age will hurt me in spite of how good I keep proving myself again and again – and all they can think is to shag the teacher!”

“Ye’re crossing the line, Claire.” Jamie warned, his voice now low and dangerous. “I might be younger than ye – just a few years, really - but ye’re not exactly old enough to convince me ye’re getting senile by acting out and being disrespectful. I am the teacher here.”

“Then you should bloody act like it!” Claire growled, the hammer of anger – and jealousy? – pounding against her ribs. “Stop being so nice and attentive, because you’re clearly giving the wrong message!”

“What?!” His mouth was ajar, the pulse on his temple throbbing in anger. He practically tore his glasses away from his face, discarding them on the table with a dry sound. “I never made any advances on one of my students. The mere suggestion my behaviour is borderline unethical is a verra serious one, Miss Beauchamp. It can get me suspended if anyone in the faculty board hears it.”

“I’m sorry.” She hissed, fidgeting with the closing mechanism of her rucksack. “But you have to recognize that you are young and…handsome.” Claire swallowed her, her voice strangled. “You can pass the wrong impression just from breathing.”

“Maybe ye should drop this class.” Jamie suggested, slightly turning away from her in order to shield his face from her sight. “I can ask Professor Raymond’s permission for you to assist his Alternative Medicine class. It will give ye the same credits as mine.”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe I should.” They stood there, facing each other, their eyes battling when words had failed them.

“Claire.” He asked, his voice ragged but softer, warmer. “Who told you ye werena enough?”

“My husband.” She avoided his eyes, twisting her lips in a grimace. “Ex-husband. He was a teacher too. Thought I couldn’t handle becoming a doctor – I should settle to what I already was. He was very vocal about it. That’s why we divorced.”

“He was wrong.” Jamie said softly, but firmly. His eyes were all shades of blue – stormless skies, bottomless oceans, rare wild flowers, starry nights, infinite horizons. “I hope ye ken that. Because I certainly do.”

“Oh.” Claire babbled, feeling utterly ridiculous after her outburst. He had his long-fingered hands placed on the desk between them – in her eyes they seemed made to lovingly caress a female body, to demand responses with brutal kindness, to hold a smaller hand that could fit perfectly. “Thank you.”

“It has been a pleasure teaching you, Claire.” He said quietly. “You have a lively mind and a sharp wit. They’ll serve ye well. Yer age won’t hinder ye, lass – it only makes ye that more intriguing and capable.”

“I’m sorry.” She gave him a weak blushing smile, reinforced by the way he responded with a small grin. “I can be quite…rebellious, when my heels are being stepped on.”

“I have witnessed it first-hand.” He laughed, brushing his copper hair in a display of nervousness. “Ye seem to have forgotten one of yer wee notebooks.” And, without waiting for her answer, strode to the place where she had been sitting, collecting her pad.

She knew he would see it – she had been working on it for most of the class and had left it open as she hurried to leave. It was a rough drawing of a blue eye, with a familiar catlike shape – framing it was a verse from her favourite poem in her stylized hand, “Da mi basia mille”.

Deinde centum.” He completed, caressing the sheet with his fingertips. “If ye’re not my student anymore,” He said in a hoarse voice, turning to look at her with a burst of hope in his eyes. “I’m finally free to ask ye out on a date, as I’ve wanted since the day I first saw ye sitting on my class.”

My Past Has Tasted Bitter

Hi there! Would you please please please write a keith x reader fic? (It doesn’t have to be super long I’m not picky lol.) Where they are in Keith’s bed and the reader has fallen asleep. Keith can’t sleep because the poor boy can’t calm down being this close to the reader. The reader starts having nightmares and crying in their sleep. Keith freaks out a little.?. But tries to handle it the best he can. Thank you!

A/N: First, thank you for requesting! You’re my first request for this blog so I’m putting a lot of effort into this. Especially for my lil’ nervous bab. Second, I wanted to give it a little bit of sense so Keith’s s/o could be considered post-p.o.w., dealing with the trauma from being tortured, etc. Leave that part up to you, I just wanted to include some bit of a story in this oneshot. I hope you like it!! Please tell me if you think I need improvement or share any tips you might have. ;;;; Enjoy!

Requested by: ailaanonymous
Pairing: Keith x Reader (gender-neutral)
Warnings: PTSD, mentions of torture, past imprisonment

—•—

This shouldn’t still be freaking him out, but low and behold, it was.

This was his fourth time sharing a bed with you. He liked it—being that he likes you—but the close proximity still made him nervous. The thought of and the actual act of sharing a bed with someone would make anyone restless in the beginning of a new relationship. It takes trust. Not that he didn’t trust you, he wanted to and he does, but it’s the sheer thought of laying beside someone while in your most vulnerable state.

Keith turned over onto his side. You were sleeping soundlessly, also on your side so you were now facing each other. He studied your face through the dim light and as he did so, a wave of contempt washed over him. You were so beautiful, inside and out, scars and all. And although he didn’t voice it as often as he knew he should, it never left his mind. You never left his mind.

And you trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him, so why couldn’t he do the same?

Maybe he was just overthinking the whole thing.

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth to calm his thoughts. He forced his muscles to relax and tried to think about falling asleep. Much to his dismay, it wouldn’t come soon enough.

Your voice cracked in a groan and Keith felt the sheets twitch. His eyes opened again and he noticed your scarred arms twitching faintly and shortly after your face twisted in an expression almost similar to pain. Your skin glazed over as small beads of sweat appeared over a short amount of time and your lip curled. Your fists curled the sheets into a death grip as if you were clinging on for dear life and Keith could feel the mattress shudder as your entire body tensed on top of it. You moaned again, and this time he heard your breathing pick up.

You were having another one of those terrible nightmares.

Panic overwhelmed him almost immediately and he lifted his head off the pillow. What was he supposed to do? You hadn’t had a nightmare in front him yet. What could he do?

Tears slipped down the bridge of your nose and your body shivered under the blankets. At the sight of your tears, Keith immediately sat up completely and dragged himself closer to you before he grasped your shoulders as gently as he could, “[Name], wake up,” he whispered, anxiety laced in his voice, “It’s just a dream.”

You began to murmur and your body tensed completely under his touch. One massive wail escaped your lungs and you lurched up, latching onto Keith and staring up at him with wide eyes full of fear. His unconscious grip on you grew to be intense at your sudden reaction, “[Name]! It’s me!”

He watched the terror in your eyes and expression melt into weariness, and then somewhat relief. Oh god, he was still holding onto you. Did he grab you too hard? What if he hurt you? What if–

You closed your eyes and let your head drop forward as your breathing struggled to slow.

Keith loosened his still somewhat-tense hold on you and forced his own muscles to relax, “It– it was just a nightmare, [Name].”

You let your body go limp for a moment before shoving the blanket off of your upper body and bringing your hands up to your face. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths, “I’m sorry,” you murmured with tears still spilling all over the place, “I’m really, really sorry … I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

By this point Keith had let you go. His head tilted to the side slightly, “You, uh– you didn’t … I couldn’t sleep.”

You raised one hand to stare at him through the small amount of light that was filtering through the small window on the wall. You let out a groan and shuddered.

Keith’s eyes traveled slowly from your now covered face to your arms, and to the bare sides of your torso and your ribs. He studied the long and dark scars that crisscrossed your body, extremely similar to the scars that Shiro bore. He sighed, “ … Do you want to talk about it?”

Your arms dropped down from your face and you stared up towards the ceiling. “I– uh,” You trusted him and you wanted to talk about it, but … the words wouldn’t come out. It was still too sensitive of a topic, “I can't– I–”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Keith’s voice broke through your panicking thoughts once again. He laid back down beside you and reached out toward you with both arms, “Come here.”

You looked at him, bewildered for a moment. Keith was being cuddly. Keith was being cuddly?

Wow.

You didn’t hesitate any longer. You rolled onto your side once again and buried your face in the crook of his neck. The raven-haired boy pulled the covers up and draped his arms around you, “Whatever’s going on in your head … it’s not real. Alright?”

His arms relaxed around you as he whispered to you. Hot tears spilled out of your eyes quicker at the soothing sound of his voice, “ … Maybe it was before, but it’s not now.”

You snuggled up as close to him as you could. After all, this might be a once-in-a-lifetime-experience. Cuddling up this close to Keith, Paladin of the Red Lion. You needed this kind of comfort. The horrors you had faced before while your life was in the hands of the Galra—of Zarkon himself—had destroyed your life as you knew it. Your family was split up completely. And when the Paladins found you, you were an absolute mess. Of all people to find, the Paladins of Voltron found you? It didn’t sound likely. And you didn’t want to believe it out of fear of it being a huge tease or a trick. You were put through all kinds of physical and mental trauma and it seemed like it would never end.

Keith tightened his hold around you, “I’m right here, stop thinking about that.”

You took a deep breath again and slipped an arm under the blanket to wrap it around him in return, “Thank you, Keith.”

The boy closed his eyes as his chin laid atop your head. Keith could feel your breathing come back down to something relatively normal as you breathed deep. He took note and did the same, his thumb beginning to draw small circles on your back. You were safe and warm and with him and that’s all that mattered to Keith in the moment.

He would catch Zarkon one day, and that would be the day that he makes sure that Zarkon pays for what he did to Shiro, to Pidge and her family, to Allura, and to you. He’d make sure that Zarkon never lays a hand on anyone again.

“Goodnight, Keith,” your soft voice broke him out of his growingly hateful thoughts, “Try to get some sleep this time.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, “You should too. G'night, [Name].”

—•—

A/N: I kind of really want to do a part 2 for when the reader finds out that Keith is Galra,,,, Trust issues all over again? You decide. :’)

Written In The Stars (a MoonRiver fic)

Title: Written in the Stars
Author: @minimoosekateer
Fandom: Star vs the Forces of Evil
Pairing: MoonRiver
Characters: Moon Butterfly, River Butterfly
Rating: G
Word count: 1,251
Tags: Fluff, First Kiss
Summary: Moon receives a gift for her fifteenth birthday.
Notes: Okay, this turned out way longer than I expected. This is actually the first fanfiction that I’ve ever written. It’s fluffy as hell but I love Moon and River’s relationship, and after the Battle for Mewni, I just really wanted to write this. I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is much appreciated.

★ ★ ★


Moon Butterfly stood at her balcony, looking down at the cobblestone road where carriages passed through daily. It was quiet tonight, and the only thing she could hear was the wind rustling.

Well that, and River’s deep breathing.

He was sitting on the edge of her bed, dwindling his thumbs and humming softly. Tomorrow was going to be her 15th Birthday, and River insisted that she let him stay until midnight so that he could be the very first person to grant her birthday wishes. It was a silly reason, but she also found it to be sweet.

Truthfully she didn’t really feel like celebrating. It was her first birthday since her Mother’s passing and it saddened her knowing that she wouldn’t be here to celebrate. River, who knew this, wanted to do his best to fill the void in her heart by keeping her company.

She didn’t mind. He made her smile and laugh, which she appreciated. A smile rarely appeared on her lips nowadays. It was very stressful knowing that everyone looked to her for answers. She didn’t exactly have friends aside from River, as Glossaryk was more like a mentor to her and she didn’t really look at the High Commission as her friends. She contemplated on asking Mina to hangout a few times but wasn’t sure if they’d get along—Mina had a wild side to her that Moon could barely handle during their roundtable meetings.

Moon made it her mission in life to look after the Kingdom, but wasn’t in a position to befriend any of them. So not only was River like her only friend, but the only one that she didn’t mind celebrating with.

After a few minutes of silence, Moon slightly turned her back from the balcony so that she could look at River. “River? Can I…ask you something?” She looked at him, trying her best not to avert her eyes from his because she needed his honest opinion and eye contact seemed to be appropriate.

“Yes, Moon, go on and ask away!” He perked up, almost as if he was surprised to hear speak.

“Do you… Do you think I make a good Queen?” She felt embarrassed for putting pressure on him by asking this, asking for assurance. At the same time, she was curious to know his answer. She doesn’t need his approval or criticism, because she gets enough of that from the High Commission, but genuinely wanted to hear his answer as a friend.

He looked back at her with a slightly shocked expression. “Why um… Uh, no. No, I don’t think you make a good Queen.”

She felt a pang in her chest.

He cleared his throat and walked over to the balcony, now standing next to her. He continued, “I think you make an excellent Queen. You’re an eloquent speaker. You’re quick on your feet. You think rationally, you’re headstrong, you don’t let the High Commission tell you how to think or feel. You care for this Kingdom and the Mewmans. You constantly impress me. Not to mention you stunned everyone in the High Commission after those monsters fled from our territory thanks to your leadership. I knew you could do it. I know how much you miss your mother. She was loving to us as well. I have to say that if there was another heir to take the throne, I wouldn’t want it that way. We’re all lucky to have you as our Queen.“

This made her heart swell.

“River,” she said, her eyes tearing up a bit. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me. It just feels like it gets to be too much sometimes, I feel like, along with my mother, I’ve also lost my childhood. I have to be responsible for everyone, but at times I feel so alone but I’m thankful you are here with me and I just…”

She realized that she had averted her eyes from his and started tugging at her hair. She’s babbling. It was a nasty habit of hers but at times when rambling she couldn’t help it, and he was so easy to talk to.

He gently smiled, and reached for her hands. She could feel a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“Moon… It’s okay. I understand. Y'know, sometimes when I’m stressed out or confused, I like to look at the stars.”

This caught her attention. “The stars?”

He nodded. “Yes, the stars. You see, there are billions of them in the sky. It seems you could get lost in the sea of them, there are that many. However, each one is an individual and each has a purpose. No matter what, even during dangerous times, I know I can look up to the sky and see these unique stars that have a meaning, these stars that shine in the darkness, and I’m reminded that I’m not alone. It reminds me that I have a reason to keep going.” His voice was calm and he was now gazing up at the stars.

She looked up as well. They were quite beautiful. What he said had touched her heart and he was right. Each individual star shined brightly down on them, and now she didn’t feel so alone.

She turned her head to him and realized that he was staring at her. She looked into his eyes and blushed. She wasn’t the best when it came to sharing her feelings and being vulnerable, but he was worth the effort. He made it easy for her.

She composed herself and turned to him. “You’re right, River. They do make me feel better. You know, I have you, too. Knowing I have you means I’m not alone.”

This confession in turn made him blush profoundly. They spent a few more seconds staring into each other’s eyes before the clock in her room started going off. They both jumped a bit from being startled, making her realize that he was still holding her hands.

It was officially midnight. She was now fifteen years old.

River smiled at her. “Happy Birthday, my Queen.”

Her heart was pounding. She barely let out a whisper, “Thank you, River…”

He placed a kiss on her hand and looked back up at her to once again meet her eyes. She didn’t know if she was the one to lean in first, or if it was him, or if they did it in sync, but their lips met for a gentle kiss.

It was the best gift she could’ve received.

After a few minutes with River, the guards came in to have him sent back to the Johansen family home. They made plans to see each other later on in the day. She bid him farewell and went back to her balcony, gazing up at the stars.

They truly did bring her comfort, now more than ever.

★ ★ ★

Many years down the line when she gave birth to their daughter, Moon held their beautiful smiling baby in her arms and looked at River lovingly.

“Star,” Moon gushed, “Her name is Star.”

With tears in both of their eyes, River nodded and gently placed his arm around her shoulders, wrapping them into a family hug.

She was indeed their Star. A unique, precious individual who Moon vowed to always protect and care for. Star Butterfly would always shine bright, even through darkness and chaos.

They loved her wholeheartedly.

FIN

you can't deny you're looking for the sunset

Admittedly, the first thing he thinks of when Beth tells him of the opportunity in National City is not the promise of growth. It’s not putting Biomax at the forefront, in the spotlight where he’s tried to hold them in for years.

(Just one breakthrough, that’s all he needed.

Years of modifying and rethinking, and then-

Then it happened in a matter of months that he can barely recall past a blur.)

It’s Lena Luthor.

Keep reading

Well there we go. The first commission I have asked for Rhea. And I am still so speechless how beautiful this turned out. @kf1n3: thank you for doing this for me. Thank you to already agree on a second one for me. I love your style. And I can’t tell you with any words how much this thing means to me. This is 1000% Rhea, even more than the Rhea in game. You actually “developed” her for me, I described you how I imagined her and she actually turned out way better than I imagined her. *hehe* Please never stop drawing. And for anyone around here: go and follow this lovely sweet being with her more than lovely OCs (I mean really look at the boys!) and if you can afford it commission her. Really. Send her your love. She deserves it so much.

Well and after she sent me the sketch I was that much in love that I even wrote a few lines for the scene. I am no writer at all and no native english speaker, so sorry upfront, this is far away from good. Nevertheless for anyone who might want to know what exactly is shown up there ;)

Keep reading

Well, Shit. (A Voltron Fanfiction: Chapter 2)

Here is Chapter 2! I haven’t started on Chapter 3 yet but I promise it is on the way! I’m SO SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER THE LAST TIME. Hopefully the ending to this chapter isn’t as bad? Maybe! Anyway! Enjoy!

Want to read the first chapter? Here you go!

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/156859812181/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficiton

CHAPTER 3 IS HERE: 

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157047198811/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-3

SO IS CHAPTER 4:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157157013206/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-4

AND CHAPTER 5:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157254073496/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-5

AND CHAPTER 6:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157296304031/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-6

AND CHAPTER 7!

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157378879001/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-7

CHAPTER 8:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157547824756/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-8

CHAPTER 9:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157710839871/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-9

CHAPTER 10:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157841715481/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficition-chapter-10

Lance is left behind on the Galra ship with Prince Lotor as his personal torturer. Lance isn’t holding up well and the rest of the team have to act fast if they want to save him in time. 

Chapter 2: Well, What the Hell.

It had been a long time. Or it felt like a long time. But the steel that had covered Lance’s emotions was still there even though he was sure that his body could take no more.

Prince Lotor visited Lance often. He shoved tiny metallic needles into every place he could think of. The needles had long thin tubes attached to them. They could send electricity or drugs through them into Lance. Both were extremely painful but between the two, Lance would take electricity any day. Sure it messed up his body but the drugs, they were worse. Lance would be seizing in pain for hours unable to think, hear, and barely able to breathe. It felt like someone was pushing on his chest, stabbing every part of his body while burning it at the same time. After every session Lotor would ask him questions which Lance either answered with snide remarks or nothing at all. But Lance’s lack of cooperation made Lotor even more excited.

Lance had learned this: Prince Lotor is nothing like his father. Sure Zarkon was scary but he wasn’t very patient. He would rather fight head on than take the time to plan every detail. But Lotor, Lotor could wait and that was even more frightening. He was methodical and manipulative. Crazy and smart. In some ways he was definitely worse than Zarkon ever was.

Lance was aware that his body was getting worse, the cut on his head also come with a sizable bump which throbbed like a never ending drum beat on his skull. The vision in his left eye was completely gone now although he was getting used to it. His back hurt and itched all the time. The skin on his back was rough from the burns and every small twitch was agony. His hands and arms were littered with small deep cuts from the needles. Some were healing while others were new, blood dripping onto the floor. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He was in a constant state of pain and numb but it didn’t bother him much anymore. The pain kept him awake and aware. If he was getting out of this, and that’s a big if, then he’d bring back with information of his own.

Lance had gathered this about Lotor:

 1. He was Zarkon’s son that Zarkon didn’t like very much

2. He was on his way to meeting the witch druid lady after Voltron beat Zarkon’s ass in that last fight

3. He had a harem of aliens 

4. He was really creepily obsessed with Allura.

 Lance himself was obsessed with Allura cause she’s beautiful but not like this guy. If he got out of this he was going to apologize from every flirty thing he ever said to her.

But right now he was more concerned about the Lotor in front of him. The weird thing was that Lance was pretty sure he was hallucinating or dreaming. Lance couldn’t really tell which, if there was even a difference.

“Your team abandoned you. They’re never coming back.” Lotor said.

Lance shook his head, it throbbed painfully but the pain kept him awake. It kept him sane.

“Why would they? You’re just the jokester. The comic relief. You don’t have a special skill. You’re nothing to them! You’ve said it before! Shiro is the leader. Keith is his favorite and the best pilot of his generation! Compared to him you’re nothing but a cheap replacement for him, for Shiro’s favorite pet! Hunk is a genius and a kind soul. He deserves a better friend than you. And Pidge? She’s the smartest person, a genius beyond her age! Allura is the princess and the only one who can control the castle. Coran is the only one who can take care of the castle, he’s smart and kind. They all have their thing. They all have a purpose. But you don’t. You’re worthless.” Lotor spat at him, enraged.

Slowly his face began to change. Lotor quickly faded away and was being replaced by someone else. Himself. Lance was staring at himself. He was going crazy. The hallucination shouted at him, continuing to yell all the thoughts that Lance had kept under check. That Lance had tried to conceal.

WHY DO YOU EVEN BOTHER TRYING TO PROTECT THEM?! They haven’t done anything for you! They tell you to SHUT UP, to FOCUS, they don’t WANT you! They don’t even NEED YOU! GIVE IN! YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF DEAD!!

Lance tried to shut him out. But how many times had he stared at his own face. How many times had his own face yelled his worse fears? I guess this is a new way to look at the phrase beating yourself up, Lance let out a small laugh. Then the laugh grew louder. And the worst part was it that he couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. But he said nothing back. He just laughed and laughed as tears streamed down his face.



Keith was pissed. It had been one week and three days since they left Lance behind on a galra ship where they were doing god-knows-what to him right now. Keith had never NOT liked Lance, in fact he’d say they were friends, although he knew Lance wouldn’t say the same.

Keith had been concerned for weeks before they left Lance behind. Maybe months. Ever since the wormhole gone wrong when the lions were split up. Lance had become quieter, didn’t say as much, and didn’t joke as must. He lashed out at Shiro during the mission where Keith learned about his past and being part galra. But afterwards when he confessed to the group Lance was the first person to tell him it was fine, the first one to say anything.

“Yeah so what?” Lance said, standing up from the table.

Keith was shocked, honestly with the way things had been going between the two of them he expected something else.

What? This is serious! I’m part Galra, like the species that ruined the whole universe.” Keith practically shouted.

Lance looked unfazed.

“Well yeah but you’re still Keith, you have been the entire time. It’s not like you’re any different then you were before. You’re still the best pilot with a stupid ass mullet. It’s just that you know more about yourself now. So like, congrats I guess.” Lance smiled.

He walked away from the table waved to the rest of the stunned faces around the table.

“I’m gonna take a swim, you guys have fun getting over your angst!” Lance shouted over his shoulder while he left the room entirely.

After that they were fine for the most part, Keith hadn’t thanked him though. He regretted that now. After that Shiro had gone missing. Keith was in shock he couldn’t think but Lance had grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to face him directly.

“Keith, I know you don’t want to think about it right now but you’re the leader now. We need to focus. We’ll find Shiro, don’t worry too much.” He said. 

Yeah they had butt heads and thank god Keith didn’t need to be leader long, they found Shiro after three days, but Lance was still quiet and still not himself. Keith was worried. But he never said anything, never talked to him. They were always doing something else, after this mission I’ll talk to him, but something always came up. Always.

That’s what Keith most regretted. Or maybe it was the look on Lance’s face when he threw him and Pidge over the edge into the vent before the ship exploded. Lance’s face was expressionless, eyes hard and smile sad. He knew exactly what he was doing and Keith hated it. He was an idiot. Now he had to get him back.

It wasn’t like they were sitting around sulking this entire time but Allura had insisted that this time they needed help, allies that could help bring Lance back. They needed ships and plans. But it had been too long, it was taking too much time.

Keith barged into dining room where everyone was gathered discussing something that was related to the plan to get Lance back. Hunk was pale as he was these past several days, worry had etched wrinkles into his forehead that never went away. Pidge was concentrated on the details refusing to think of anything else so her mind didn’t wander to places that she’s rather not think about. Shiro had his full attention on Allura and Coran but he wore a frown that had not strayed from his face. They looked over at Keith, shocked as he slammed his hands on the table.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE WE DOING?!” He shouted.

Everyone looked back shocked, Allura was staring at him looking a little scared, Shiro and Coran were stunned into silence, Pidge and Hunk looked concerned.

“What-what do you mea-?” Allura began before Keith slammed his hands back down on the table.

“I mean that Lance is on a Galra ship and has been for a week and three days suffering god-knows-what and the hands of some asshole and we are just sitting here coming up with plans!” Keith paused to release a breath before continuing hopefully sounding a bit calmer, “Why did you order us to fall back? Why did we abandon him? Why do we need allies to take down a small fleet when we have never had trouble doing that before?” Keith asked, he was practically pleading with her.

Now everyone was looking at Allura, even Coran looked at her with curiosity. Allura’s breath hitched a bit but she took another breath that went down a bit smoother. Keith didn’t like being so aggressive but he was pissed and needed to know.

Allura swallowed before she spoke.

“The reason that we needed to leave is because I recognized the ship that was taking Lance. It was the ship belonging to Prince Lotor.” She said.

Coran gasped, finally understanding.

Pidge spoke quickly, “Who the hell is Prince Lotor?”

“Pidge, language.” Shiro said softly.

She let out a huff. Muttering under her breath about Keith saying the words ‘asshole’ and ‘hell’ two seconds ago. Shiro ignored her.

Allura continued.

“Prince Lotor is Zarkon’s son, although I understand that they were not close. When Zarkon was the black paladin, he and my father were close. It was natural that the children of said men would play together. Lotor was a kind child at first. We rather liked playing together. But something changed in Lotor, he became disturbed as he got older.” She took a breath before continuing, “He would, torture creatures. He said he was playing with them but I knew what he was doing. One day he killed a child we were playing with. He claimed it to be an accident but we knew better.” She paused.

“Obviously Lotor was sent away from his father to a faraway planet that helped Galra who were too aggressive or that is what Zarkon claimed. That’s where Lotor stayed. I heard it only got worse from there. However Zarkon was also acting strangely and then he betrayed the paladins. I was told he began to change after his wife, Prince Lotor’s mother, died.” Allura finished.

“After we awoke from our 10,000 year sleep I tried to catch myself up on all I could. I learned about Zarkon as best I could and Lotor. He has become ruthless. Kidnapped species all over the galaxy to keep as glorified pets. Tortured prisoners, disobeyed every order Zarkon ever gave him, was given his own fleet which is known for not losing a single battle. In some galaxies Lotor is known as the planet killer. So that day we… left Lance I knew we couldn’t fight him, down one paladin and already under attack. So I ordered us to fall back. If we can get a few more allies to stand with us we can take him long enough to get Lance off that ship and back home.” Allura said looking into Keith’s eyes.

“I beg you, give me a few more days. We will save him and bring him home. I promise.” Allura looked each and every one of them in the eye making sure they knew exactly how serious she was. Keith’s only concern was if Lance could last that long.

anonymous asked:

Fluff PROMPT: Mulder and pregnant Scully have a bath together after a long day. I love your writing!!! ❤️❤️

Dear perfect, lovely anon. Your fluff prompt kept me sane today when I drove through Ireland (insanely beautiful country, but roads not suitable for my currently slightly damaged car). So, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. I hope you like this cause I didn’t read the ‘after a long day’ and this happened. Oops.

For some reason Mulder is five minutes early. Of course he knows why he is early if he thinks about it (he tries not to think about it, but how can he not). The reason he is early, no matter the minutes, is that his apartment feels lonely, empty even. The only place he feels like himself, where he feels like he still belongs, is at Scully’s place. Luckily, either because of her pregnancy or simply because she really does like him, too, Scully is fine with him coming over every day. Every single day. Just the other day Mulder thought she’d mumbled a ‘stay the night’ when he tucked her in. But she’d hardly been awake and no matter how long he stared at her sleeping form, she didn’t repeat it. So he left. He leaves every night only to return again the next day. Like a stray puppy. Except for that one day when he had a doctor’s appointment and she insisted that she come with him and they spent the morning together anyway. So if he thinks about it (he really shouldn’t), it’s not a surprise he’s early.

These days Mulder has more than enough time to lose himself in thoughts while he waits for Scully to open the door. At 8 months pregnant, she no longer walks, she waddles. Though that is something he keeps to himself. Whenever someone stares at her strange walk he shoots them a dirty look. It’s the least he can do, he figures, having missed so much already. Not that they ever talk about it. If they talk about the baby it’s just that: the baby. Scully turns pink whenever she calls it her baby and neither of them has dared to call it their child yet. It’s been 8 months and it seems too sudden. At least Mulder can claim to have been dead for a great part of the pregnancy. That’s another thought he keeps to himself, though. Whether they talk about it or not, he’s here for her and the baby. The baby. His, hers or maybe even theirs.

Mulder contemplates using his key. It’s been minutes (or at least it feels like minutes) and Scully still hasn’t opened the door. If she gets angry, he thinks, he can always argue that something could have been wrong. If he’s honest, though, he doesn’t want to use the key. Unless Scully tells him to. Even when they were dating, or whatever they had been doing before he was abducted, he hardly ever used the key to her apartment.

“Hi.” Scully opens the door before he can finish his thought and Mulder is so taken aback by her attire that he forgets words altogether. Not that he’s never seen her in her underwear before (hey, he’s even seen her without it), but that was Before.

“Mulder? Can you come in? I’d rather not have my neighbors see me like this.” He walks in behind her and closes the door. Her hair is up in a messy bun and the tank top she’s wearing is sticking to her back.

“Is everything all right, Scully? How are you feeling?” She turns to him and he is certain he’s never seen her like this; her face is flushed as if she’s run a marathon and her eyes look exhausted. He hasn’t told her, because again, he isn’t sure he’s allowed, but this pregnancy looks good on her. Today, though, it really, really doesn’t.

“It’s so hot, Mulder. I can't… I don’t know what to do. My mother took me to the market this morning and I guess it was too much.”

“Oh.” It’s not a clever remark but he’s miffed no one told him about the market. He could have gone with them,

“Did we want to do anything today? I can’t remember. It’s too warm to think, Mulder.” She sits down on the couch where a fan is oscillating into her direction. She moans softly and Mulder bites his tongue as his cock twitches inside his jeans. Definitely not the time.

“No, we uhm, didn’t have any plans.”

“That’s good.” She sighs closing her eyes. Mulder wonders if he should do something, say something or maybe even just sit down. Looking at her pink face, he gets an idea. A brilliant idea.

“I know what we can do, though.” Scully opens one eye, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Do I have to move? Because I think I’d rather not.”

“You do have to move, but you’re going to love it.” Scully opens the second eye and gives him The Eyebrow.

“Mulder…”

“That’s not-”, Mulder swallows and his face takes on the same color as hers, though for completely different reasons, “Scully, I wouldn’t – I mean. That’s not what I had in mind,” it’s only half a lie after all, “how about a nice bath?”

“I’m not allowed to take hot baths.”

“I know that,” she glances at him; them not talking about things includes him not telling her that he’s read the pregnancy books. All of them, “I was thinking a nice, cool bath so you can relax and you know, cool down a bit.”

“That does sound nice. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I might need some help getting in the tub.” She refuses to look at him so Mulder kneels in front of her, one hand on her knee, the other under her chin. There are tears shimmering in her eyes, as there are so often these days, and he is prepared to wipe them away should any of them fall.

“That’s not a problem, Scully. Not at all.”

The moan Scully lets out once she slips into the tub sounds like ecstasy and Mulder needs to remind himself to keep a clear head. His little head refuses to listen, but Mulder concentrates on the happiness on Scully’s face as he kneels down next to the bathtub. The water is lukewarm (and remind Mulder of pee, but he’s not going to tell her) and covers half of her belly.

“That’s nice. That was a good idea you had, Mulder.” Her eyes close but she cups his cheek in her hand for a short moment and he leans into her touch. The whole bathroom smells like her cocoa butter bubble bath.

“You smell so good.” He can’t control his voice, or his thoughts. Neither can he control his actions; he kisses her naked shoulder before he gently bites into it. Scully gasps and stares at him open-mouthed.

“You taste good, too.” Mulder smiles at her, genuinely happy for once.

“Mulder, can I ask something else?” Here it comes, he thinks, as the water softly splashes against the porcelain. Scully turns to him and he forces himself to look into her eyes.

“Of course.”

“Get in here.”

“What?” He can’t help but laugh.

“Get in here.” Scully repeats and grabs at his t-shirt.

“Scully, the tub is not…”

“You think I’m too big, don’t you?”

“No! You look perfect, Scully.”

“You mean fat.” She is pouting and her nails dig into his shirt.

“No, I don’t mean that at all. You look so beautiful, Scully. You’re carrying our, I mean my, I mean your – the baby and you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“The first one, Mulder.”

“Hm?” He looks at her and somehow he is defenseless now and she manages to get the t-shirt bunched around his throat so that the only reasonable thing he can do it to take it off all the way.

“Our baby,” she tells him, slightly scratching his now bare chest and this time it’s time it’s him who moans, “I’m carrying our baby.” He nods, swallows hard. “Now get in here.” Scully demands and hasn’t he been waiting for clear, explicit orders? Here he goes. Mulder takes off the rest of his clothes quickly, Scully watching him curiously, and finally he’s naked.

“Where do I…” he wonders out loud and Scully scoots forward so he can fit behind her.

“This is even better.” She sighs when he’s settled in the tub and she can lean against him. She feels warm against his chest, almost hot, and he wonders if them sharing heat isn’t counterproductive. He’s not going to complain, though. Mulder is uncertain where to put his hands and one of them brushes her breast. Scully hisses.

“Sorry.”

“They’re just sensitive.” She takes his hands and puts them on her stomach where the baby kicks.

“Wow.”

“I think the baby agrees with your bath idea.” She chuckles, gently stroking her belly, her fingers brushing Mulder’s hand.

“Smart baby.”

“Wonder where he gets that from.”

“He? We- You’re having a boy?” Mulder thinks he doesn’t care either way, but so far she hasn’t mentioned the gender of the baby and suddenly he can’t wait to find out. They should really start communicating, he thinks.

“We, Mulder,” Scully reminds him, putting her hand over his, “are having a baby.”

“Yes… we are. But you’re not telling me?”

“I’m not telling you.” He buries his nose in her neck and she giggles when he starts nuzzling her.  

“You want to be surprised, Mulder. I know you do.” He doesn’t answer her knowing she’s right. Instead he leaves tiny kisses all over her neck; he lingers a moment longer where the chip is hidden inside and then moves on. She’s moaning again, but he can’t stop. Maybe, he thinks, if he keeps doing this, she’ll ask him to do more than kiss her soon. And maybe, if he’s really lucky, she’ll even ask him to stay again.

anonymous asked:

Okay so let's pretend that the RFA were able to talk to their respective MC in a language besides Korean so they've been assuming for the longest time ever that MC can't speak Korean. One day, they come home and hear her singing a song creepily in Korean and once they find her she's just laughing her ass off. How would the RFA react? I'm sorry I just have a sudden urge to see someone write this if your requests aren't open feel free to disregard this~

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long omfg ;A; But I hope I got what you were talking about??? ~Admin 404

*YOOSUNG:

               -Since you didn’t start out speaking Korean in the chatroom, he just assumed you couldn’t

               -OOOOO A FOREIGNER, YOOSUNG IS HYPED

               -After the two of you got close, he came home early from his classes one day- not knowing you were in your shared home

               -He was in the middle of changing, shirt halfway over his head, when he noticed singing?

               -It was a standard Korean lullaby, but it was being sung quiet and very slowly

               -HE ACTUALLY GOT SO SCARED THAT HE GOT STUCK IN HIS SHIRT

               -Tried to run out of the house, thinking it was a ghost, but ran into the wall- resulting in him falling on his ass

               -You pull the shirt off his head, asking if he was alright

               -“MC WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE, THERE’S A GHOST!!!! A G H O S T!!!”

               -He’s up on his feet, trying to drag you out of the house yoosung what about your shirt

               -“A ghost? What do you mean? What makes you say that?”

               -“I just heard someone sing this lullaby all slow and creepy and we just, WE GOTTA GO”

               -Super confused when you bust out laughing

               -omg you weren’t laughing at the fact he had no shirt on, were you???

               -“That wasn’t a ghost, I was singing!”

               -One second, two seconds, three seconds…. ding! Light bulb!

               -“You learned a Korean lullaby? When did you do that?”

               -“Uh, years ago. When I learned Korean. Didn’t you know that?

               -when you fuckin’ WHAT

               -He is completely mindblown to find out you speak Korean??

               -Though now he’s really embarrassed about just assuming you didn’t know the language

               -Super happy to talk in either language, it makes him feel cool tbh

               -is completely pissed off when he finds out you sent a video of him running into the wall to saeyoung

*ZEN:

               -He always asks for an extra copy of his scripts in *insert mc native language here* so you can practice with him!!

               -You never understood why he did that, maybe he was just trying to be nice?

               -But he always did that with you? With everything?

               -Any DVD’s, CD’s, absolutely anything he brings home is in your native language

               -Does he think you’re more comfortable that way?

               -Obviously, you appreciate it but it’s kind of like…..

               -There’s no need to go so out of his way to do all of that for you!

               -One day, you were taking a shower and decided to sing one of the songs from his most recent play

               -You love Zen and love that he’s happy with his career but god daMN THAT SONG IS STUCK IN YOUR HEAD AND YOU ARE BEYOND DONE WITH IT

               -So you made fun of it by singing ridiculously, trying different voices, tones, anything you can think of

               -All of a sudden, the bathroom door is thrown open, slamming against the wall

               -“MC IS THAT YOU?? ARE YOU SINGING LIKE THAT?? HAVE MY WORDS TOUCHED YOU SO DEEPLY THAT YOU KNOW THEM BY HEART, DISPITE THEM BEING IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE?”

               -You just poke your head out of the shower to stare at him, watching as he starts to talk to himself about how beautiful his voice must for you to have learned it so quickly

               -“Do you know the meaning??? I can give you a word by word translation!! Do you want that? DO YOU WANT ME TO DO THAT?”

               -“No? I mean, yeah… You play it all the time… because you’re learning it but I know the words on my own, thanks sweetheart”

               -You??? Knew what the words meant??

               -He just kind of stares at you in disbelief before you roll your eyes and return to taking your shower

               -“Zen? Why are you still here? Go aw-” “YOU CAN SPEAK KOREAN”

               -You sigh and agree that yes, you can speak Korean, and you’ve been able to this whole time

               -He starts crying??? What in the world???

               -“I CANNOT BELIEVE I DIDN’T KNOW THIS ABOUT MY LOVE! I’M A TERRIBLE MAN, DON’T LOOK AT ME, MC!” not looking at you anyway, zen, tryna shower here

               -“Save the drama for your play later, sweetheart. It’s alright, I just never said anything about knowing another language”

               -Literally spent most of the rest of the day just pouting and feeling terrible that he never knew. You have to comfort him often because it was something neither of you ever really brought up way to go mc ya broke ya boyfriend

*JAEHEE:

               -After working for Jumin for so long, she’s unfortunately learned to assume if you look foreign, you might not speak other languages

               -So she’s already assumed you speak only your native language, so she automatically accommodates to your needs

               -Though you…. don’t need it??

               -You figured that she wanted to make things easier for you, which you appreciated, but you wanted to make things easy for her too!!

               -What’s funny is that you’ve talked to her late at night, after she’s been up for days, in Korean so that it’s easier for her mind to process what you ask

               -Did she pick up on it? Not at all. poor tired bby, someone help her

               -So despite the fact that you leave notes for her written in Korean, she just… hasn’t…. noticed?

               -Because she still talks to you in your native tongue

               -Seriously, you’ve tried everything to make it blatantly obvious that you could speak Korean

               -The easiest way to tell her that, ‘hey, i don’t need you to translate convos for me, i promise’ is to just straight up tell her

               -Except you didn’t get a chance to?

               -You were sweeping the house one day, belting out one of Zen’s songs from his latest musical

               -Getting into it, you dance with the broom, dipping it dramatically

               -During your dip though, you look up to find Jaehee standing in the doorway, at a loss for words

               -“Oh… so.. you really do speak Korean.. I wasn’t going crazy, then”

               -SHE LOOKED SO EMBARRASSED THAT YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT FEEL BAD

               -“I, um, I apologize for just assuming that you-”

               -You cut her off when you pulled her into a quick dance around the living room, singing the previous song all over again

               -With a swift motion, you dipped her like you did the broom

               -A quick peck to her lips sent her over the edge and she burst into giggles

               -“You’re a much better dance partner than the broom” you tell her in Korean, with a wiggle of your eyebrows

               -She pushes you away from her and laughs as she leaves the room, calling over her shoulder

               -“Maybe you should learn a few more songs there, MC”

*JUMIN:

               -Also guilty of just assuming you only spoke your native language

               -Also never bothered to ask

               -You don’t even bother to tell him though because you’re lowkey salty about it

               -Like??? He didn’t even ask???

               -You love him and all, but it’s been… how long? And he never even bothered to asK YOU IF YOU KNEW HIS LANGUAGE

               - damn mister trustfund kid

               -But it’s actually really funny because he talks to Elizabeth in Korean

               -So he thinks you don’t know how much he’s praising her, or baby-talking her

               -But you KNOW

               -And you’re left wondering why he doesn’t talk to you like that sometimes

               - god damn cat getting all the attention (kiDDING I LOVE U ELLY)

               -But let’s be honest, you love her just as much and do the same exact thing

               -In fact, you love to sing to her! And she loves it too!

               -She turns into a freaking motor box when you sing, she loves it soo much

               -So you sing to her every day, it makes her happy, makes you happy, everyone is happy

               -One day, you were singing to her, but Jumin actually came home early??

               -So he heard you singing too, and just sat down quietly next to you

               -Waited patiently until you finished the song before speaking

               -“So, you sing to Elizabeth?”

               -“Every day, sweetheart! You just happened to catch the show”

               -Immediately thought about asking Saeyoung to install some hidden microphone or something to capture you singing every day

               - that isnt creepy at all, dude

               -With a slight tilt of his head, he looked at you, eyes full of question

               -You had to fight the urge to kiss his cute little face, but it was worth it

               -“So, MC? You can speak Korean? Not just *insert native language here*?”

               -You nodded in agreement, looking down at Elly, petting her with a smile on your face

               -“I’ve known this whole time… *pulls Elly up to face* But SOMEBODY *kisses Elly’s nose* Never bothered asking. Did he? No, no he didn’t! He didn’t, did he Elizabeth??”

               -You shot him a side glare, watching as his face twisted into slight embarrassment and back to a playful one before getting up to leave the room

               -“It’s okay, MC. I’ll test out how well you can pronounce those Korean words later tonight.”

*SAEYOUNG:

               -He loVED your aCCENT

               -So he spoke to you in your native language just so he could hear it

               -Did he know you could speak Korean?

               -Yeah probably

               -DID HE CARE? I’m hearing “no”

               -Did he remember, a long time later, that you could speak Korean?

               -Again, I am going with no

               -He’s always thinking about god knows what all the damn time so it isn’t surprising that he forgot you spoke Korean all together

               -In fact, you were hoping he did forget you spoke Korean, or your new plan wouldn’t work out how you wanted it to

               -You see, you and Saeyoung like to prank each other like crazy, but his last one really irked you

               -(I mean come on??? Who in the world thinks it’s funny to sneak a permanent marker into your pants pocket when you do laundry??? That rUINS YOUR CLOTHES)

               -So, you decided that revenge was in order, and you wanted nothing more than to scare him to death

               -After a long set up with a creepy life-size doll trapped to an rc car, a couple of speakers hidden, and a ton of hidden cameras, you were ready for him to come home

               -When he got into the room and noticed the girl standing in the corner, he immediately noped the hell out and tried leaving

               -But you locked the door! There is no escaping sweet revenge!

               -You started to sing little kids nursery rhymes through a microphone, it coming through the hidden speakers broken and ominous

               -“noPE! NOPE NOPE NOPE. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU? I KNOW HOW TO FIGHT LITTLE GIRL, I’M NOT AFRAID TO KICK YOU IN THE FACE”

               -So you kept singing, stopping only to ask him to come play, in child-like voice

               -“NO I DON’T WANNA PLAY, JESUS CHRIST, SOMEONE LET ME OUT”

               -You decided to chase him around with the doll, using the wireless controller from the other room

               -You didn’t know he could scream in such a high pitch, I swear to god, dogs from around the world could hear it

               -He was getting out of that room, then and there. He broke down the door. Ran down the hallway and heard you laughing from another room

               -He didn’t even think about why you were laughing, he just jumped onto your lap, and latched onto you, hugging tight and burying his face against you

               -“MC! THERE’S A CREEPY DEMON CHILD IN THE OTHER ROOM IT’S CHASING ME, MC PLEASE PROTECT ME”

               -But you couldn’t even reply- you were laughing too hard. He looked around and saw your set up of monitors, wireless controller, and microphone

               -He looked up at you with a ton of mixed emotions

               -First of all he was still a little freaked out?? But he was also kinda pissed off that you scared the hell out of him! But he’s also in awe that you set all this up… and so in love with how hard you’re laughing…

               -HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO F E E L

               -Takes a second to think about the situation and suddenly remembers

               -“Wait… you can speak Korean… I TOTALLY FORGOT YOU COULD DO THAT? WHAT THE HELL MC, I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOME CREEPY LITTLE GIRL”

               -You give him an innocent smile, but based on the look he gave you once he stood up and walked away

               -He was probably going to use that fact against you for his revenge prank, and you weren’t positive you wanted to know what that was going to be

*V:

               -Off the bat, he asks which language you’re more comfortable speaking in

               -When you said your own native language, he understood, and tried his best to accommodate for you!

               -Ever since then he’s always making sure he can translate things for you, whether it be signs or casual conversation

               -You knew Korean but didn’t know if you were a strong enough speaker, which is why you initially told him you were comfortable with your first language

               -So, you secretly were testing out your language skills every time the two of you went out!

               -When he translated for you and you had gotten it right in your head, you were so excited!

               -But he didn’t know that ’s what you were doing??

               -He just always saw you light up and smile softly to yourself and it made him weAK

               -Was it because he was translating for you??

               -Didn’t know exactly, but was definitely going to keep doing whatever he was doing because that loOK

               -IT WAS SOOO PRECIOUS

               -But he felt bad that he couldn’t go shopping with you one day because he had some people he had to see

               -What if you couldn’t read the signs?? What if you couldn’t talk to the people?? WhAt If-

               -So he tried to make his meetings go as quickly as possible without being rude

               -And he ran to meet you at your favourite coffee shop, where he knew you’d stop first!

               -As he walked up behind you, getting ready to surprise you and order for you, he took a step back when he heard you ordering perfectly fine in Korean

               -You even made small talk with the barista! In perfect Korean!

               -When you turned around with your coffee, he stared at you in surprise, but he scared the shit out of you! You almost dropped your coffee!

               -“V! Hey! You scared me…. I thought you had to go meet a few people? Did something happen? Are you alright?”

               -You asked. In perfect Korean. Why did you doubt your language skills??

               -“I thought you only knew *your native language of choice*? So I haven’t needed to translate for you this whole time?”

               -You could see the disappointment in his eyes as you quickly shook your head (and hands) in embarrassment

               -“No no no no, you asked me in the beginning if I was more comfortable with my native language, which I am! I know Korean but I was afraid about getting something wrong, so I really appreciated all of your translations! They help me make sure I’m learning and getting it all right!”

               -Explaining it to him was definitely the smart move because you watched as he went from sad puppy to ecstatic pup knowing that he was able to help you learn new things and solidify what you already knew!

               -From then on, he always tries to let you figure it out first, then help you if you need it!

               -Was he embarrassed that he always translated when you didn’t need it? Yes

               -Did he get over it quickly? Also yes. He’s a precious tol bean. He is alright with this revelation.

*SAERAN:

               -Also knew from the start that you knew Korean

               -He talked to you from the beginning in Korean so he knew afterwards that you’d know

               -Not like you all of a sudden lost your knowledge on a full language….right?

               -That being said he just plain refuses to let you pretend like you can’t speak him language

               -Every time you try to talk to him in your native language he just kind of looks at you with absolutely no emotion

               -“Hi, MC, speak in a language I know please, thanks”

               -Like seriously

               -This man does not let you have any fun with it at all

               -You even tried to fake some sort of amnesia, too

               -To like, pretend you forgot how to speak Korean so he’d have to talk to you in your native language

               -Did it work? No

               -He just stared at you like you were stupid

               -He’s such a jERK

               -WHY CAN’T YOU JUST PLAY ALONG, SAERAN. JUST GIVE ME THIS ONE THING

               -You even try to mess with him in public

               -You ask him to order some food for you, asking him in your native language

               -The cashier is confused but Saeran just stares at you

               -He completely understands what you say, despite pretending that he doesn’t

               -Turns back to the cashier and tells them that you’re getting nothing

               -WAIT SAERAN PLEASE I WANT FOOD TOO

               -Until the day he slips up and responds to a question you ask him in your language

               -You celebrate, including a victory dance

               -He just curses at himself for messing up and letting you win

               -Though he does think it’s really cute that you’re this excited about winning

               -Maybe he should let you win more often thAT WONT HAPPEN