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.”


“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.

Keep reading


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.

Keep reading

The Spoils of War aka the ship sails

You ever feel mildly annoyed when you happen to read an anti’s stupidly illogical comment on your ship? And by mildly of course I mean majorly bothered so that the only cure is repeatedly watching your favorite Jonerys scenes until you’re so immersed in the beauty of their love that nothing can get to you anymore? 😍💖

And then of course, you just have to write about it because how else will you be able to get a handle on the mishmash of emotions that just take over you like? 💖💖😍

And this episode man. Just. This. This episode I tell you!!! I’m a regular GoT fan, which basically means that I’ve learnt to have certain expectations from the show, especially regarding love. And I can honestly say that never in my life could I have imagined that GoT would give me a romance as sweet as this!

The first Jonerys scene in this episode:

Had me laughing so hard! 

The look on Dany’s face, it’s just so suggestive! And Jon’s interruption itself is so timely just.. We aren’t ever going to forget Jon’s first cave episode ever are we? And the particular expertise he surprised us all by? 😂👏🏻 I mean how much more of a throwback could this be to to the Jon/Ygritte cave sequence? And as if that by itself wasn’t enough, he takes her to a cave! My boy Jon is unbeatable at cuteness, fight me!

By this time, it’s obvious that a considerable amount of time has already passed since Jon arrived on Dragonstone, and also that their relationship has definitely improved since the whole initial ‘bend the knee’ scene, and the cave scene totally shows this! Now I know that people have been complaining that their love is so rushed, and doesn’t make sense but I strongly disagree. With fewer (Stannis and Davos simultaneously approve) episodes and the decision to only show the focal interactions between Jonerys, what’s illogical is to assume that they have had no interaction offscreen which got them to the point that Dany doesn’t need her whole entourage to tag along when Jon wants to show her something. 

Which gets me to the ‘hoooolyyy shiiiiiiit, I ship them and I ship them hard dammit!!’ moment of the entire show!!! Look at this!!


Remember my favorite romantic trope of ‘looking when the other person is not’?? The only thing that ups that is ‘looking while the other person is completely fascinated by something else! There is legit nothing else which can make me melt as fast as this! Because it’s so simply pure! Like, you’re watching the other person be mesmerized by something you’re showing them! You’re watching them lost in wonder, so taken by what they’re seeing. And they’re so absorbed in their own world at that moment, they don’t even notice you doing that while I’m here completely losing it!!!

Plus, it also totally reminded me of one of my favoritest Disney movies ever!


And this look!!! You know, I think this is probably one of the first times when Jon Snow was giving off the ‘you know nothing, but you’re so cute when you’re clueless and I get to show off’ vibes! 😂💖 

And this scene, oh my heart!!

This has to be the most non sexual and romantic physical contact on GoT ever! I can’t imagine any other moment when a simple arm touch like that (totally unnecessary, by the way, Jon. my boy’s got the moves though!) has got me shipping people so hard!!

Another thing which got me was how it was Jon who held her arm, our Jon (I’m never going to get over this!), reaching out to her in such a familiar comfortable gesture, when he could simply have walked ahead and shown her that. Basically, our Jon having the confidence to just take her arm like that, and the closeness (which lasts 0.00001 seconds, but it’s enough for a lifetime for me!💖), and the delicateness and the intense feels! 

And the softness? Apart from the way Jon kept looking at Dany and the arm touch, what I loved was how soft and mellow they both were around each other. Even though Dany still wanted him to ‘bend the knee’, not only was she softer, but she was so much more reasonable than in her throne room, where the attitude was ‘bend the knee you rebel, or i’ll destroy you after i’m finished with Cersei’; here, she is nudging him so much more gently than she had earlier. Jon, on his part, gives her an actual reason as to why he can’t submit to her, as opposed to his own stance earlier - ‘why would i give the north to you, stranger?’ Jon knows his people, and he knows they are not going to accept a Southern ruler, especially not a Targaryen. (which is realistic, those Northern lords are a task), he’s basically telling her that he’s not refusing because he wants to keep his title or anything so shallow as all that, it’s his people. And the puppy eyes in this scene only make it sooooo much better! 

And then there’s this!

The symbolism of ‘ice and fire’ being reinforced aside, they are shown so beautifully to be equals here, in sync, working towards the same goals! If that isn’t enough to start wanting them together…

This whole cave scene basically set up that Jon is definitely starting to develop feelings for her, which is only to be expected because she’s beautiful enough to warrant that attraction, and plus, Jon is starting to know her and realize that she’s not her father, or Cerse,i or bad or evil or batshit crazy or any of those things Targaryens are reputed to be. Dany’s trust in Jon is shown right in the following scene, when she disregards all her other advisors and turns to Jon, because she has come to know, that this is a man who will always put the realm first, a man whom she can trust to give her the truth keeping the people in mind, a man with no other motive than to save his people against all odds. 

Then again, there are the neverending parallels between them:

It is emphasized again and again how, despite their seeming differences, they share certain values and experiences with each other, which again serves to bring them closer together.

Now what I found really important was this:

I live for Ser Davos’ dialogues! But what’s important to note is Jon’s reply:

There’s no time for that.

Now, if he had really been trying to seduce Dany according to the antis (which I am definitely not going to believe in), it would have been far more natural for him to just be quiet about this.

If Mister Honor Incarnate is actually setting aside his honor for the greater good, it is definitely not going to come without an internal struggle. This guy has lived all his life by a strict moral code, and to set it aside will not be easy, especially considering manipulation is not his forte. 

So, if he had been trying to seduce her, he would be ashamed of it, he would hate himself for doing that, and when Ser Davos would have teased him about it, he definitely wouldn’t have replied with “there’s no time for that,” since according to some antis, that is his exact plan and there’s all the time for it!

But Jon doesn’t look pensive or even slightly uncomfortable. He doesn’t deny it, or even stare blankly at Davos like ‘what are you talking about?’. 


He simply says there is no time for it, and you know why he does that? Because right now, his sole mission in life is taking down the Night King, ensure the survival of the living, he doesn’t have time to fall in love and allow himself to be sidetracked. 

Jon basically is treating his second life as some sort of ‘serving the greater cause’, he doesn’t seem to think he can focus on anything other than the Night King, especially not something personal as fall for Daenerys. Also, he knows that falling for her will only lead to complications, since the North is staunchly against the Targaryens. He doesn’t want to analyse his feelings for her because it will lead him down a rabbit hole he doesn’t think he should be ‘wasting’ his time on. God, he has such a heroic aura around him, turning away from any possible personal desire for the greater good. Jon, why do you have to be so good! Of course, he’ll eventually end up changing his mind in the most glorious way possible and I just! 💖😍

Also, they have the epicest couple line! 

*jonerys feels intensify*

anonymous asked:

H-hi if it's not t-too much to ask can I have the RFA + saeran and v reacting to an MC crying and calling herself fat because she can't fit into her jeans anymore because of her huge belly bump? Cause ya know hormones? Thx bb ^^

I might add Saeran and V later to this but after writing the RFA I’m wiped out haha! I wasn’t quite sure what kind of belly bump you meant? Like pregnancy or period bloating or regular bloating or stress induced weight-gain idk any number of reasons our bodies do weird shit to absolutely ruin our days so I didn’t specify lol hope that’s alright!~

◉ Yoosung 

  • He’s super flustered at first because he doesn’t really know how to react???
  • Knee-jerk reaction is to run for advice from his mom or sister 
  • Has his phone in his hand ready to dial, but he also doesn’t want to leave you alone 
  • So he shoves it back in his pants pocket  
  • Brings you tissues and sits next to you 
  • Rubs your back 
  • He just stays really quiet but is there for you and lets you cry it out 
  • Pulls your head into his chest a bit 
  • If you call yourself fat his brows are knitting together in that classic Yoosung Angry Face™ and he will scold you immediately 
    • Stop it. Don’t talk about the person I love like that. Not only does it hurt you…but it hurts me, too. You’re perfect any way you are. And that’s that.” 

◉ Jumin 

  • He easily keeps a cool head as soon as you burst into tears
  • But he holds your hand
    • Shh, calm yourself… Stop crying and then explain to me what the problem is.”
  • Once you explain to him about your pants, a small smile creeps on to his face 
  • Although he thinks its absolutely ridiculous, it’s still cute that you’re worried about something so trivial 
    • “Is that all?”he gingerly sweeps the hair from your face with a light chuckle. “It’s just pants. If it means that much to you, I’ll have them re-tailored. I’ll buy you a whole closet full of brand new pants that fit you perfectly, if that’s what you want.”
    • “It’s…not about the pants, Jumin.”
  • He’s a bit confused until you explain to him how you feel about your weight 
  • He kisses the hand he is holding before making you look in his eyes 
    • I don’t see that at all,” he says seriously. “Your appearance doesn’t concern me. I love everything about you. Now, and forever.” 

◉ Zen 

  • When he stumbled upon you crying, his mouth dropped 
  • *makes that little ???? sound like his confused emoji in the chat room*
  • Tries to…distract himself…from the fact that your pants are just barely over your thighs 
  • Cups your face in his hands and kisses you 
  • That’s basically a cure for anything in Zens eyes 
    • “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly when he sits down on the bed next to you 
  • It makes sense once you explain it to him 
  • He works with actresses and actors who are constantly worried about their appearance and weight 
  • And even he has to keep an eye on himself 
  • But it hit a particularly painful part of him to see the person he cherishes most crying over something like that 
    • “Screw these pants, then!” 
  • Zen rips them off of you and throws them out of the room 
  • Gets down on a knee in front of you as you sit on the edge of the bed, placing a hand to either side of your hips 
    • “That pair of pants doesn’t mean a damn thing. I know. I could take you out to a store right now and you’d be a different ‘size’ in every designer. I see people all the time, killing themselves over a dumb number on a tag. I love everything about you, and it has nothing to do with you being able to button those jeans.”

◉ Jaehee 

  • She could kind of relate 
  • However, it was hard for her to form words enough to comfort you when she saw you crying 
  • For a minute or so she just kinds stood there in the doorway, stoically watching you stare at the jeans 
    • “Ugly.” she finally spoke 
    • “What?” you looked up with a sniffle 
    • “Those jeans. They’re hideous,” she said matter of factly 
  • The random outburst made you actually laugh a bit
    • “Brunt as usual,” you smiled 
    • “In fact,” she leaned against the door frame, “I was hoping in the next day or so that I could toss them in the trash while you were at work and maybe you wouldn’t notice”
  • You both began to giggle quietly, and she smiled as you wiped your tears 
  • Glad she could say anything to ease your discomfort and remind you how much she doesn’t care about your jeans or looks 
    • “Well, what are you just sitting there for? Let’s go get some new clothes that actually flatter your beautiful frame. I’ll drive.” 

◉ Saeyoung 

  • This was surprising
    • Wha-?! What happened?!” 
  • He was walking in the hallway eating chips when he heard muffled cries from the bedroom 
  • He immediately took to your side 
  • For a while he just let you cry while he sat close 
  • He wanted badly to pull you in to him but he didn’t think that it was the right time 
  • He nodded and listened to you between sobs 
  • But when you called yourself fat he felt a stab in his heart 
  • You noticed a somber look on his face 
    • “Honestly…I’ve been having the same problem with myself…” he said sadly 
    • “W-what? Really? But…” you wiped your eyes to look at him 
    • “Ya,” he admitted. “I never cared about how much honey buddha chips I ate, but when I couldn’t fit into my pants the other day, I…”
    • “Hey!” you grabbed his hand, “how could you…I love you! You’re so perfect and-”
  • Saeyoung looked up with a cheeky grin 
    • “Hah!” he poked your cheek. “See? You love me enough either way. Well, it’s the same for you. Do you see now?” 
  • You slapped his arm lightly for messing with you but you couldn’t help but smile at the realization 
    • “No matter how big, small, old or wrinkly we get,” he continued after giving you a quick innocent kiss, “we are stuck with each other, okay?” he smiled 

Ko-Fi│<–Like what you read? You can help support me °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Thank you for reading!

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 ^~^”


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.


  • 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.
  • 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.”


  • 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.


  • 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.


  • 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.


  • 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:

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. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you are still doing trc prompts but I had this idea and I can't get it out of my head: some time after trk Blue and Henry notice the sexual tension between Adam and Ronan and they keep on betting when they will get together and don't want to tell Gansey about it bc they think Gansey would be really weird about it but then one day Blue just snaps and tells Adam and Ronan to just get together already and they are like "uhn...we are dating..."

Thank you for the prompt ♥ Ronan’s infatuation with Adam’s ass goes on. 

you can still prompt me, guys :) 

read here on ao3

“Ugh, look at them. Look at these two. Incredible.” Blue looks over the rim of her sunglasses. They’re heart-shaped and violet. Henry does the same, pushing his Ray Bans down the bridge of his nose, following her gaze. 

They’re at Monmouth, enjoying some late autumn sun in the parking lot. Henry insisted on putting up a heinous palm-island-shaped floatie for him and Blue to lie in “to make it feel more like summer”. Gansey is sleeping in dangerously sagging lounger next to them. 

Adam and Ronan are both bent over the Pig. The old one, not the new dream Pig. Something is wrong with it again, Adam is fixing it, and Ronan is apparently assisting.

“…all Ronan does is fuck around and stare at Adam’s ass.”, Henry comments.

Blue snorts. “True. But also his hands. Look-”

Ronan hands Adam a wrench, and their fingers brush. Adam’s lips tighten into a tiny smile and Ronan’s ear tinge pink. 

“Oh my god.”, Blue sighs, and then laughs, “…they really, really need to make out. If not to save their souls, then to save ours.” 

Henry hums in agreement. “I’d watch that porn.”

Blue slaps him. “Do you think they’ll ever figure it out?”

Henry hums again, this time less certain. “…I hope so.” He pauses, then looks to her, “…do you mind it? I mean, you and Adam-”

“Pshah.” Blue gestures, flapping her hand, “That’s so irrelevant.” 

Henry grins, a little relieved. “Good. I mean, yeah, you have me and Ganseyboy over there now to worship the ground you walk on, so-”

He breaks off when Blue rolls over on top of him, simoultaneously slapping him, laughing, and kissing him. 

He grabs her wrists. She eventually just slumps on top of him, her cheek on his chest, looking over to the soundly sleeping Gansey. His face is starting to redden. 

“…we should put sun screen on him.”, Henry says as if he’s reading her thouhts. 

Blue nods. 

After a moment, she asks: “…do you think he’d mind?” 

Henry considers the question. “Not really mind, maybe? But…” He shrugs a little. “…I think he wouldn’t know werther to get protective over Adam, or Ronan, or both of them and it’d mess with his head.”

Blue hums in agreement.


It takes two more weeks of watching Adam and Ronan flirt with each other and dance around each other for Blue to snap. 

It’s two weeks before Adam is supposed to leave for college and they’re getting Gelato. 

They sit inside the parlour, happily eating their ice cream. Gansey and Henry are eagerly discussing some extension for RoboBee, taking up the conversational space at the table. So only Blue hears it when Ronan asks Adam: “Wanna try some of mine?” 

She watches sneakily from the corner of her eye as Adam nods. Ronan uses his spoon to scrape up ice cream, a generous dollop of it, and then holds it out for Adam. Adam, without hesitation, leans in and licks it off the spoon. Ronan’s eyes are fixed on Adam’s mouth, his tongue darting out. 

“Oh my fucking goddess.” It escapes Blue, sounding exasperated. All of her boys freeze and look at her. 

“You two.” She points her spoon at Ronan and Adam, “Can you please, PLEASE just finally start dating? I can’t take all of this sexual tension!” She turns to Henry and Gansey- “Sorry, but this is driving me nuts.” 

There is a brief silence at the table, and then Ronan starts to laugh. A true, honest belly laugh, so hard that he leans back in his seat. Adam, too, starts smirking, and then laughing, and to both Blue’s and Henry’s surprise, Gansey joins in as well. 

Henry and Blue exchange a confused glance. 

“Okay, what’s so funny? Can you guys please enlighten us? It’s rude to-”

Henry’s sentence stops short in the middle of it as Adam leans across the table and pulls Ronan into a kiss. They are both still grinning. 

Gansey chuckled good-naturely. 

Henry and Blue stare.

“Oh.”, says Blue, finally.

“Oh, indeed.”, Henry agrees. Even he is too dumbfounded for a smart comment. 

“You knew?!” Blue’s voice is accusatory, and Gansey quickly holds up his hands in defense. “Don’t chew me out for it, please. I promised not to tell!” 

“Ugh!” Blue rolls her eyes in a gesture that gives Ronan a run for his money. Then she glares at Ronan and Adam. Adam smiles at her, equal parts sheepish and apologetic. Ronan has resumed eating his gelato. 

“You do realize that this makes us one of those circle of friends which consists solely of couples?”, Henry throws in. “I haven’t decided whether I find this cool or not.”

“Noone cares, Cheng.”, Ronan drawls.

“I think it’s cool.”, Gansey comments cheerily. 

Blue silently agrees as she watches Ronan’s eyes catch Adam’s, full of light and adoration.

anonymous asked:

rfa + minor trio- middle of the night, can't find mc, find her doing whatever. (stargazing on the roof, baking, just random little things that could be cute?) ps thank u for giving vanderwood the love they deserve, i love my baby sm too

Vanderwood deserves all the love.


  • While Zen was at rehearsals, you stayed home. He always didn’t come back until late, leaving you to eat dinner alone.
  • You sat on the couch eating your food, watching the news. Just to see that he was involved in yet another scandal with one of his coworkers on the new musical he was starring it. They shared romantic roles with each other.
  • A sigh involuntarily left you. He told you not to pay any attention to it, because literally none of that stuff was true. But…you couldn’t help it sometimes. Jealousy and doubt are natural things to feel when you see your significant other be associated with someone else.
  • When Zen got home, it was pretty late. You cuddled with him as he ate and listened to him speak about his day, you staying mostly quiet with the thoughts of doubt still in your head. He assumed you were tired then you both went off to bed.
  • It was a little past midnight when you crept out of your guy’s shared bed, careful not to disturb him, and went up to the roof. The place he took you when you first visited his home and where he confessed his love to you.
  • You sat cross legged and looked up at the starry night sky.
  • Zen was beautiful and so talented. He had thousands of people who admired him and could get anyone he wanted. He was one of those bright stars in the sky, and you? Well..you were just one of those people who were only worthy of watching him from down below. How could he have ever chosen someone like you?
  • Tears began to form in your eyes, until you felt a presence standing behind you, causing you to whip your body around as you were greeted with Zen’s face with a tired expression plastered over it. A balled up fist went to rub at one of his tired eyes.
  • “Jagiya? Is everything okay? It’s so late…what are you doing up here? Come back to bed.”
  • You turned yourself back around and stayed quiet, just as you did earlier. Moments later, he settled down next to you and he yawned, leaning his head against your shoulder.
  • “What’s wrong? Tell me. You’ve been silent all night, I miss your voice.”
  • You told him softly and subtly how neglected you felt, how worried you were that he would leave you for someone else or that the media would ruin your guy’s relationship. 
  • He immediately sat up and stared over at you. He used his fingers to gently turn your face towards him.
  • “Baby, you’re all I want. All I need. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re way more amazing than you think. You may not see it, but trust me I do and so many more people do. Why would I want anyone else when I already have the most breath taking person right in front of me? You’re my entire world, Jagiya. Now, shall we go back to bed?”


  • Of all the times you played LOL with Yoosung, you didn’t horribly lose only once. But. You still lost.
  • His other friend’s online would constantly laugh at how bad you were, and honestly Yoosung thought it was pretty humorous too. You’d all laugh, but Yoosung would always have your back and tell them to stop, even though it wasn’t that deep. He’s just very protective over you okay.
  • You told him that you were going to bed while he was up studying one night and he simply nodded his head, as you went into your bedroom, sneaking your laptop in with you.
  • Once you got snuggled up in bed, you immediately turned it on and signed into LOL. You were determined to get better so you could play harder missions with your boyfriend!
  • A few hours passed…along with many epic fails and deaths. You were sure you the only thing you’ve improved on is running away from the boss. At least you could dodge, slightly better. I mean. you noticed you were getting blown up significantly less.
  • Suddenly, Yoosung walked into the room, stretching his arms out and letting out a big yawn. When he saw you were still awake, expecting you to be asleep, he tilted his head at you in confusion. 
  • “What are you doing up?”
  • “Uh…..nothing….”
  • “But, you’re clearly doing something.”
  • “I’m not doing anything.”
  • “Then why is my laptop in front of you?”
  • “…i was sleeping and it just showed up, i don’t know how it got here.” 
  • “…..really?….”
  • “yes, really.”
  • Yoosung crawled in bed and you tried to hide the laptop in your chest.
  • “NO!”
  • This boy was A LOT stronger than he put himself off to be. He ended up snatching it away from you, ignoring your loud whining and protests in the background.
  • He looked at the screen just to see your death count.
  • You died a whopping 47 times in the last two hours you’ve been playing. 
  • “Oh my god..” *cue loud snorting laughter*
  • You huffed, did the cutest pout he had ever seen in his life, before plopping down in bed and pulling the covers over you.
  • He eventually quieted down and pushed the laptop to the side, pulling your body over to him.
  • “You’re so cute, MC. You don’t have to get any better, you’re already the best you can be!”
  • “Really?..You don’t care if I die a lot?”
  • “As long as you don’t die in real life, I’m good. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone suck die so many times in LOL before. That’s an accomplishment! Along with being the most adorable person to ever exist. Wanna pull an all nighter?” 


  • It was yet another long, and painful night of work for Jaehee. 
  • When she came home, she didn’t really say anything. She just gave you a kiss on your forehead, then pulled you to bed with her, where you two snuggled up with each other for the night. 
  • You felt so terrible for her, that she was working so hard like this for the both of you. So you decided you would make her lunch to take with her tomorrow! It would be much better than her getting takeout.
  • You lied there and pretended to be asleep for awhile, until you were sure that she was fast asleep herself. Jaehee was actually a pretty light sleeper, but she was so tired, you were sure that you didn’t wake her up when you crawled out of bed.
  • You immediately got to work in the kitchen, quietly and stealthily as you put together a bento box for her. You decided to bake her some cookies as well!
  • It occurred to you that you weren’t as quiet as you thought, as you heard a voice speak your name from behind you as you mixing some cookie batter together. 
  • “Why are you cooking?..So late? Should I have brought some food home when I left work?”
  • “Oh…no! Jaehee, I was just making you food to take with you tomorrow. I want to make sure you’re eating healthy and taking care of yourself since you always take care of me..”
  • Her tired, baggy eyes went wide and blinked a few times before she gave you the sweetest smile. 
  • “Thank you…No one has ever thought of me like that before. I appreciate it. But, I would much rather be in bed with you right now.” 
  • She walked up to you and pressed a kiss to your lips, causing you to smile. 
  • “How about you finish this up tomorrow? You can bring it to the office and we can both eat together during our break. How does that sound?”


  • It was a Sunday night. Jumin had a meeting the next morning so you both went to bed early.
  • The night went along peacefully, he held you close to his chest with an arm draped around your waist as you two slept. You awoke to the sound of meowing in the other room. It was no other than Elizabeth, but you never heard her meow this late before, nor was it this frantic.
  • You rose up and slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Jumin and tip toed into the living room.
  • Elizabeth was curled up on the couch, asleep, but she was whimpering and meowing aloud. It appeared she was having a nightmare and your heart sunk.
  • You settled down on the couch and gently shook her awake. Her blue irises opened up and stared at you, you could see the fear and sadness in them.
  • Elizabeth had such a good life, you wondered what she could’ve been dreaming about. 
  • You scooped the cat up into your arms and held her gently to her chest, much like how Jumin did when consoling you, and your head rested lightly on top of hers.
  • You rocked steadily side to side as you sang her a soft lullaby and stroked the fur on her back, she emitted soft purrs as you continued.
  • “MC?”
  • You didn’t notice Jumin’s deep voice in the background, as you were falling asleep as well with Elizabeth in your arms. 
  • He found the sight all too adorable and endearing, a smile spreading across his lips as he inched towards you.
  • He carried you bridal style in his arms, while you still held Elizabeth. The both of you had already fall back fast asleep.
  • “Let’s go back to bed, my princesses.”


  • This boy barely ever slept.
  • But when he does, he really wants you to be snuggled up besides him.
  • He almost had what seemed like a death grip on you, as he snored softly and was dead asleep.
  • You really had to pee.
  • You shook, you shimmied, you wiggled and eventually you were free from his grip, quickly shoving a pillow into your arms to replace yourself, because you knew he would wake up. And you wanted him getting all the sleep he could get. 
  • You scurried over to the bathroom and relieved yourself. 
  • You were about to crawl back into bed, until you saw Robo Cat!
  • Seven mentioned that he had made a new addition to his abilities and you picked up the tiny robot and examined it.
  • There was a new button on his stomach, and you could see the dots on his ears, implying that they were actually speakers. How cute!
  • You pressed the button, and kpop began to play. 
  • You laughed and put down the Robo Cat, and it even began to dance around a little bit.
  • You found it so adorable and this song was bangin’! You couldn’t help yourself, so you danced around too and sang along. 
  • As you were enjoying yourself, you didn’t notice Seven standing in the doorway recording you.
  • “Those are some nice moves you got there, MC!”
  • “Why would I delete the cutest video to ever exist? I have to share this with others and bless this cruel world!”
  • Then with a press of a button it was on his instagram, his snapchat story, his twitter, in the RFA chatroom.
  • youweregoingtokillhim
  • Before you could even begin to yell at him, he pressed a hard kiss to your lips and demanded Robo Cat to start playing music again. 
  • “Let’s boogie until the sun comes up my space queen!”
  • You guys literally danced until the sun came up, trashed the bunker, then passed out in the bathtub.

Jihyun (V): 

  • V had the tendency to take pictures of you when you least expected it. 
  • It annoyed you and made you pout because you weren’t ready and thought you looked ugly, while V was literally having heart explosions over them. 
  • But he couldn’t deny, he got some really good memes of your face and used them in the RFA chat.
  • “When your cacti won’t grow.” *picture of you snarling at sushi at a terrible restaurant u guys had gone to*
  • “When you have no idea what’s going on.” *picture of you looking hella confused during a RFA meeting*
  • “The floor is your endless love and compassion for me.” *picture of you tripping onto the sidewalk*
  • don’tworryhehelpedyouuprightafter
  • “omg jihyun stop pleasge” 
  • “When you literally just can’t stop.” *picture of you crying over how cute a ladybug was*
  • Seven saves a l l of them and joins in.
  • He literally had a WHOLE album dedicated to memes of your face on his phone.
  • Little did he know, you were going to get him back.
  • Jihyun had gone to bed a bit early that night before you, you guys had a movie marathon but you decided to stay up a bit longer. 
  • When you were sure he was fast asleep, you got his camera from his desk and crept into your guy’s room.
  • Finally, you were going to get a picture of your own.
  • You crawled onto the bed and were ready to take a picture until you realized…
  • s h i t
  • V literally looks like an angel when he’s asleep. HOW COULD YOU MAKE A MEME OUT OF THIS?
  • You decided to take a picture anyway and…
  • s h i t x2
  • The flash went off.
  • You were about to quickly scramble off the bed and hide when a hand gently grabbed your wrist.
  • “What are you doing?” V’s sleepy, deep, baritone voice asked you.
  • nut
  • “I…was trying to get a funny picture of your face. Like you do to me. But failed, because you literally look so gorgeous when you sleep.”
  • His cheeks flushed a dark red and laughed.
  • “Well…allow me to help you.” He said, then literally made the silliest face that he could (still looking adorable as fUC  K).
  • Now, you had a V meme to use for yourself.
  • You both laughed for ten straight minutes at the picture before he kissed you goodnight and you both fell asleep.
  • The next day when you woke up in the morning, the first thing you sent in the chatroom was
  • “When people don’t ship you with someone who blinded you then started a religious cult. Also, when your route comes out soon.” *picture of V’s happy face*
  • nicebreakingthe4thwallmcthat’sseven’sjob

Minor duo below the cut!

Keep reading


This wasn’t requested, but I got the idea for it watching a video from the Q&A where he calls the little girl ‘little princess’. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!

— word count: 1,566
— warnings: none

You stand in the hallway, your daughter next to you with her arms wrapped around your legs. You and your daughter haven’t been able to see Shawn in quite a while since he is on tour, but it’s her birthday and Shawn’s is coming up soon, so you decided to fly out to see him and spend the next week and a half with him since he couldn’t schedule around their birthdays.

As you stand there, waiting for the last person to walk into the Q&A, Matt walks towards you a smile full of admiration on his face as he looks at your daughter. He gives her a small wave as he finally reaches your side.

“Hey, (Y/n). The last few people are about to meet with Shawn and then you can head on in.”

“All right. Cool.” You reply, running your fingers through your daughter’s wavy brown locks.

“How have you guys been? It’s been a while since you’ve been able to make it out to a show.” He asks.

“Yeah…” You frown, “We’ve been good, we just haven’t been able to work it out where we can make it, but with their birthdays, I made sure we could.” You smile down at your daughter.

“It’s crazy their birthdays are so close together. Four days is all that separates them, right?”

You nod, “Yup. That’s all.”


“It really is. It’s hectic.” You sigh.

“I bet.” Matt says as he leans against the wall.

“Hey, Matt! Is everyone settled in the Q&A room?” You hear Shawn shout as he makes his way down the hall.

You exchange worried glances before Matt gently pushes you into the room after you pick up your daughter. You quickly make your way to the back, trying to get everyone to stay silent as you do so.

“Hi guys. How are you?” You ask quietly as you make your way through the sea of people.

You get settled just in time for Shawn to walk in. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice you all the way in the back corner. As soon as your little girl sees Shawn she starts reaching toward him.

“Shh…not yet, baby.” You whisper into her hair.

She eventually settles down and rests her head on your shoulder as she looks ahead at Shawn. Shawn gets asked a couple of questions about you and your daughter. Like always, his answers make your heart flutter and a smile find it’s way onto your lips. You sit quietly as you listen to the questions and Shawn’s answers, rubbing your daughter’s back gently.

“What was your daughter’s first word?” You heard a fan ask.

“I’d like to say it was ‘dada’.” He starts.

“But, you know you’d be lying because it was actually ‘mama’.” You say as you stand up with your daughter.

Shawn looks at you with a huge smile on his face and he moves through the crowd to get to you. Your daughter immediately reaches for him and Shawn takes her, placing a kiss on the top of her head before giving you a quick kiss as the fans in the room ‘awe’ all around you. He takes your hand and leads you to the front of the room, sitting back in his original place before pulling you to sit next to him.

“Oh my god. Wow…I can’t believe you’re here.” He whispers as he pulls you close.

You laugh and lean against him.

“We had to make it out for your birthdays.” You say as you wrap an arm around him.

He places your daughter in his lap, an arm still around you and his fingertips gently trailing up and down your sides. You look out at all the fans and they’re all staring at your daughter, giving her smiles and waves.

“Okay, little princess, do you want to pick someone for daddy?” He asks looking down at her.

She nods and looks out at all of the people before looking back at Shawn.

“Pick someone.” He points out to the crowd as he looks at her.

She points to someone up front and they immediately get excited.

“Hi honey, what your question?” Shawn asks.

“What’s the best and worst thing about your career? Also, I have a letter for you and your daughter is adorable!” They respond.

You and Shawn both give a laugh before he thanks them. You get up and go get the letter from the fan before taking it back to Shawn. He now has both arms around your daughter’s tiny torso and he absentmindedly rocks her.

“Well, I think that the best part is getting to meet you guys and talk to you, the whole show experience actually. It’s such a personal and intimate experience between us and it’s always so beautiful. The energy is always amazing. The worst part would be having to be away from (Y/n) and Amelia, or little princess as I call her, for such long periods at a time while I’m touring. It’s very hard having to watch your own child grow up through a screen or pictures, ya know?” He answers.

Once Shawn answers the last question, you stop him before it’s time to leave.

“Wait, Amelia wants to show them what she learned.” You say and take your daughter, “What’s your name and how old are you today?” You ask, looking down at her.

A huge grin takes place on her face before she answers you excitedly, “Amewia! I’m four!”

Everyone in the room claps and encourages her, Shawn moving in to smile at her.

“Good job, honey.” He says proudly with a huge smile, “You’re so smart.”

You lean your forehead against Amelia’s as you rest her on your hip, “That’s right! You’re Amelia and you’re how old?” You ask.

“Four!” She says again, holding up three fingers before Shawn brings up another one of her fingers.

“Yeah!” You say gently rubbing your nose against hers.

Shawn begins waving and saying goodbye to the crowd. You begin waving and get Amelia to copy your movements as you walk out, Shawn following close behind, a hand on your back. You place a kiss on your daughter’s forehead and talk to her quietly.

“God, I missed you guys so much.” Shawn says pulling you in for a big hug as soon as your each the hallway.

“We missed you too. And this one said she wanted to see her daddy perform for her birthday.” You and Shawn both smile down at her.

Shawn leans down and begins peppering kisses all over her face as she giggles. You move Amelia up on your higher on your hip as you look at her.

“Do you want to show daddy what else you learned?” You ask her and she nods.

“What else did you learn, little princess? Show daddy.” Shawn says, running his fingers through her hair.

You point to Shawn’s shirt, “What color is Daddy’s shirt?”

She looks at it for a moment before answering, “White!”

You and Shawn praise her before you ask her the color of your shirt.


“Very good, Amelia!” You say with a smile.

You point to her shirt, asking her the color.

“Purple!” She answers, praise from you and Shawn following.

You point to your stomach, “What’s in here?”

“Food?” She asks.

You shake your head and glance at Shawn. He has his brows furrowed and you can tell he’s about to catch.

“What’s in here, Amelia? What’s in mommy’s tummy?” You ask again.

“Baby!” She answers after watching you make the ‘b’ sound with your mouth.

“What?” You hear Shawn ask.

You look at him and see he has a smile on his face as he looks at you.

“Are you really?” He asks, his eyes starting to water.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile.

Shawn pulls you close, giving you a kiss before leaning his forehead against yours, continuing to leave kisses on your nose and lips.

“Amelia, you’re going to be a big sister.” Shawn says, his smile never faltering.

“I think it’s funny how I got pregnant so close to you leaving. I’m ten weeks and we haven’t seen you in two months.” You say, running your fingers through Shawn’s hair.

“Well, we had plenty of chances while I was still home.” He grins.

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping your lips, “Shawn!”

“So, you’re ten weeks, eh?” Shawn asks, running a hand over your stomach.

“Yup. I found out about three weeks ago. I felt bad for not telling you, but I wanted to tell you in person.”

“I don’t even care that you waited so long. I’m just excited to have another baby.” He grinned.

“I can tell.” You smile.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted. A solid music career, a beautiful, funny, caring, amazing wife, and kids. My own little family. I’m so grateful and lucky that you’re the one giving it to me.” He smiled, kissing you.

“I love you, Shawn.”

“I love you, too. And I also love you,” he pauses to give Amelia a kiss, “and you.” He bends down to kiss your unnoticeable bump.

You couldn’t help but get a warm feeling in your heart. Seeing Shawn so happy and having such a wonderful family was everything you could’ve hoped for. You know this is exactly where you want to be. With Shawn and your children. Happy, safe, and healthy.

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?


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. :’)

“Hello, Magnus.”

He looks up from his phone and stands as Maryse draws nears, her footsteps careful on the pavement as she glances hesitantly at the mundanes around her, their hands waving as they sip at tea and lattes on the Brooklyn street. There’s a bite in the air, that first brisk hint of a breeze that comes with tumble-down leaves and New York City, and Magnus can feel it fresh on his skin.

“Maryse, how are you?” he asks mildly, sitting back down as she pulls her chair out. “Shall we order coffee?”

Magnus flags the waitress down with a raised hand, smiling at the young woman who drops by the table, blonde hair scattered over her forehead, pen tucked behind her ear. Maryse orders an Americano, and Magnus stares at her in mild surprise as he orders the same.

She smiles slowly, a careful, sincere thing that Magnus recognizes in a heartbeat. It’s Isabelle’s smile, and Alexander’s smile, though older, more fatigued, more world-weary. Exhausted, maybe, but beautiful still.

“Coffee is something we have in common, I suppose,” she says.

Something besides Alec, Magnus thinks.

The waitress returns, steaming mugs in her hands as she sets the coffee down with a pretty grin. Magnus wraps his fingers around the ceramic, the heat seeping into his hands even as the breeze tickles his nose with the chill. He takes a slow breath as he watches Maryse take a tiny sip, head bowed over her cup.

“I called you because I wanted to talk about Alexander,” he says without preamble.

Maryse freezes, cup hovering halfway between the table and her lips. Her jaw tenses, face immediately going stiff as she puts her drink down and sits up straight, fingers digging into the smooth white tablecloth like she’s already prepared for a bloody battle.

“What about Alec?” Her voice is hard, like heat-treated steel and diamond all melded into one.

Magnus watches her as he rubs his thumb idly over the handle of his cup, breathing in the bitter, cutting scent of coffee. Maryse’s hackles are raised, parental instincts activated from the moment he mentions her son’s name. Something inside his chest clenches at the sight of it, and Magnus wonders… they haven’t talked about it, but…

Someday. Maybe.

“I wanted to let you know that I’m going to ask Alexander to marry me.”

For an instant, it’s like Brooklyn stops around them, the bustle of people slowing to a standstill as Maryse’s eyes widen, as her fingers claw into fists, nails digging crescents into her palms as she stares at Magnus.

“Marry,” she says bluntly, though not unkindly. “Marry you.”


A modicum of tension seeps away from her muscles. “You… have you –”

“No, I haven’t asked yet.” Magnus sets his cup down and plants his elbows firmly on the edge of the table, arms crossing as he leans forward, drawing just a bit closer to her. “And I’m not asking for your permission. I just want you to be aware, because regardless of our history, we’ve reached a common ground, and…  I do respect you, Maryse. I’d rather you know than be blindsided should he say yes.”

Maryse swallows, throat working, and suddenly the remaining pressure in her body evaporates like helium disappeared from a balloon. She hunches over her coffee, staring into its liquid brown depths. Magnus feels concern bubbling up inside of him, and he starts to get out of his chair to reach for her.

She looks up, eyes soft as she smiles, gentle and a little bit sad. “I’m fine. I’m just thinking,” she says simply.

The silence that follows hovers between comfortable and strange, the emptiness punctuated by clinking glass and hesitant slurps of coffee. Magnus glances up at Maryse, almost amused at the way she stares back at him, unyielding, the exchange like a silent conversation in their heads about the man they both love. Her eyes say marriage won’t be easy, and Magnus answers with I know.

“Do you have the ring with you?” she asks suddenly, face going faintly pink at the curiosity in her question.

Magnus smiles at pats at his coat pocket where a little wooden box is nestled in the velvet lining, something he’s been carrying around with him for weeks now. “I do,” he tells Maryse. “But I’d rather Alec see it first.”

She draws back. “Right.”

Magnus sighs, putting his hand in his pocket and playing with the hard edges of the box, thinking of the simple gold ring that sits inside. “If… if Alexander says yes, I’m sure you’ll be among the first to see it.”

“He’ll say yes,” Maryse says without pause, voice so unexpectedly resolute that Magnus feels a smile grip him. Maryse looks at him contemplatively, lingering on his eyes, her previous melancholy gradually disappearing. “Alec… he doesn’t let anybody else call him that, you know. He won’t let me call him that anymore.” She sighs, a wry grin twisting on her face. “You’re the only one.”

You’re the only one.

Something swells in Magnus’ throat, thick and heavy so that it’s hard to swallow down the feeling welling behind his eyes. He knows Maryse can see it from the way her gaze softens, the way her lips quirk kindly, the way she looks at him like a mother looks at the man who loves her son.

“I know,” Magnus manages to say to her, the sound of his words barely a whisper above the Sunday crowd. “I know.”

— bones | 05—final

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.

  » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05  ✓

Keep reading

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—




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.


Let me hold him, just for —


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,


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. 


“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.  


“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.”


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.”


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…”


“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 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. 


They were working some random case in Dodge City, Kansas when Jack found them.

It was random and unexpected, but somehow when they walked out of a diner, there he was, looking about as disgruntled as always.

“Jack?” Sam asks, as if he isn’t sure.

Dean shoots Sam a meaningful look before turning his attention back to the kid.  “Two questions: how did you find us? And what made you change your mind?”

Jack squints at him, which Dean hates.  “The answer to both of those questions is the same.”

Dean rolls his eyes.  “Okay, don’t with the cryptic crap. Can you speak plain?”

Jack just turns on his heel and walks away.  Dean throws his hands up in the air in exasperation and follows close behind along with Sam.

When they turn the corner towards the street, though, nothing could have prepared them for what is waiting for them…or, more specifically, who is waiting for them.

Dean’s heart stops in his chest. It’s him.

Leaning against a blue hatchback with his arms crossed is Castiel.

Dean watches in a daze as Sam makes giant strides to stand in front of him. 

“Cas?  Is it…is it really you?”

Cas says nothing and merely offers Sam a small smile that makes Dean’s heart pound, which is a relief because Dean had been afraid for a minute that it had ceased working altogether.  The smile is enough for Sam, and the younger Winchester envelops Cas in his gargantuan arms.

Dean can do nothing but stare.  He sees Jack watching him stare, but he doesn’t even care.  He only has eyes for Cas.

Sam steps away to the side and locks eyes with Dean.  He raises his eyebrows in a not so subtle expression that spurs Dean forward.

Dean takes slow, small steps towards him, taking his time as if he’s afraid that once he gets there he’ll realize that it’s all just an illusion.  When he’s only a foot away, he stops, still not ready to reach out to him.

Cas smiles warmly at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  “Hello, Dean.”

Without another thought, Dean throws himself onto Cas.  He grips him tight around the shoulders and presses his nose into Cas’s trenchcoat.  It takes only a moment for Cas to return the hug, clasping Dean around his middle.

“Hey Jack,” Sam says quietly in the background, “hungry?”

“Starving,” Jack responds.  

Dean hears two sets of feet walk away, but he does not call after them.  He’s not going to stop and analyze why Sam is leaving him and Cas alone together.  He’s got enough to process as is.

After what seems like hours but was probably more like minutes, Dean pulls away to look at Cas once more.  He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that he can’t and shuts it once more.  He swallows hard and can’t bring himself to look away from Cas’s blue eyes. Open. Brilliant. Alive.

Cas’s brow creases ever so slightly, and Dean wants nothing more to smooth it out, but he doesn’t move.  “We should go somewhere,” Cas says. 

Dean nods, still unable to say anything.

Dean finds himself sitting at a bar with Castiel by his side, which is such a surreal moment for him since he never thought he’d see the angel again. He stares at the bar, his mind buzzing with so many thoughts he can’t keep them straight, and only comes back to awareness when a beer bottle is placed in his line of vision.  Dean blinks and looks up to see Cas watching him while gripping his own beer gently around the neck of the bottle.

Dean looks at the beer and back at Cas.  This is just too surreal.

“You…do like this brand, don’t you?” Cas asks, his brow creased once more.  It’s so damn endearing how concerned he is that he might’ve bought the wrong beer.

Dean shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes. The beer is fine, I just…I…” His throat closes up again and he has to look away.

“We…don’t have to talk about it,” Cas tells him.  “We can just-”

“You have no idea how hard it’s been.”

Cas immediately stops talking. Dean wonders if he even stops breathing.  It’s not like he needs to anyway.

“After everything, I’ve just been…drowning.” He stares at the bar countertop again, unable to look Cas in the eye as he says this.  “I’ve been drowning, and drowning, and it seemed like I couldn’t pull myself out of it.  I thought I never would.” He pauses.  “And then I saw you standing there and it’s like I’ve been thrown this lifeline.”  He chances a glance up at Cas, who is watching him with such fondness and concern that it makes his heart ache and he has to turn away again. “You’re back and I’m afraid of what will become of me if I lose you again.”

There’s a long silence between them before Cas gently lays a hand on Dean’s forearm.  Dean stares at those fingers, Cas’s fingers, before looking up into Cas’s eyes.

“I have no immediate plans to leave,” Cas tells him resolutely.

“Well, that’s great to hear, Cas, but I don’t think you had planned on dying either,” Dean says, clenching his jaw and tightening his hand into a fist as he remembers that event.

Cas squeezes Dean’s forearm gently, and Dean relaxes slightly.  “You’re right.  And maybe I don’t know what the future holds.  But I do know one thing.”  Cas pulls his hand away, and Dean immediately misses its warmth.  “I had a choice of if I wanted to come back or…go on, and I chose to be here.”

That gets Dean’s attention.  “You had a choice? And you chose to come back to this craphole? Why?”

Cas smiles.  “To be with you.  To be with my family.”

Dean’s eyes sting.  “Cas…”

“And maybe this won’t be the last time I’m separated from you and Sam.  But I promise you, if I have a choice, if I have a chance to fight for it, I will always find my way back to you.”

Dean rubs at his eyes.  He will not cry in a bar, god damn it.  He won’t.

“Maybe…maybe we need something stronger than beer,” Cas adds as an afterthought.

Dean feels a giggle erupt from his mouth almost against his will and he can hardly believe his ears.  He laughs outright and looks over at Cas with a look of such elation that Cas can’t help but look surprised, which just makes Dean laugh harder.

“Are you wanting to do shots with me, Cas?” Dean asks when he can catch his breath.

Cas nods and signals the bartender.  “Yes, two shots, please.”

Dean laughs again as the bartender throws a towel over her shoulder.  “Yeah? Two shots of what, exactly?”

Cas looks over at Dean for help, and the latter grins at the woman. “Top shelf whiskey. We’re celebratin’.”

The bartender looks charmed.  “Anniversary?”

Dean looks over and beams at Cas.  “Nah. A new hope.”

Cas frowns.  “That’s a Star Wars reference.”

Dean bumps Cas’s shoulder with his own. “Right you are, Cas. Right you are.”

The bartender just shrugs and pours out two shots of some fine whiskey that is better than what Dean usually gets but not so fine that it would max out his credit card.

Dean holds his shot glass up in toast and admires the amber liquid within.  “Here’s to you, Cas.  For rising out of the ashes and coming back to us.” 

Cas holds his glass up and clinks it gently with Dean’s.  “Thank you, Dean.”

“No,” Dean says, “thank you. For coming back. For throwing me that lifeline.” He suddenly feels a lump in his throat again.  “For everything.”

They toss back their shots, and when they leave, maybe Dean acts a little more drunk than he actually is so he can have an excuse to throw an arm around Cas’s shoulders.  Cas doesn’t seem to mind.

Things may still be complicated, and Mom is still gone, but Dean feels lighter than he has in weeks as he leans against his new hope all the way back to the motel.

anonymous asked:

I can't stop thinking about the moment when Lucretia meets the boys for the first time during Moonlighting and sees them up close for the first time in ten years and realizes just how much she has really changed them and just how badly she has damaged Taako in particular

sigh. SIGH. god. why do you anons keep coming into my askbox with the exact situations i am obsessed with thanks for enabling me, darlings.

yeah! like! jesus. i dont think lucretia was able to keep track of the boys consistently - and she probably didn’t realize just how badly she had fucked ‘em up and how much the interval of time and what had happened to them….also fucked them up.

let’s fuckin talk about lucretia, who stares across her office at three of her very best friends in existence (here is merle, who patched her up a thousand times on a hundred worlds; here is magnus, who taught her hand-to-hand; here is taako, who teased her about her lack of cooking ability and taught her to make an omelette). And they look the same and they look different, they’re beat-up and wearing faerunian clothing instead of red jackets and they look at her like she’s a stranger, they stand like they’re wary, like they don’t quite trust each other or her, there’s no easy familiarity. she wants to wrap them in a hug, she wants to tell them she missed them.

but instead she speaks to them with the dramatic professionalism that people expect out of Madame Director (and she slips up, of course she slips up, how can she not? this is her family), and they speak back, and the dissonance increases. They’re different. There’s something wrong.  

Taako tells her that he’s an idiot and she’s startled enough to contradict him and he dismisses her with an easy humor, and that’s wrong, taako was always fiercely proud of his skills, him and lup, they were fuckin prodigies, they were two of the smartest people lucretia has ever known.

Her friends keep telling her that they’re incompetent. She doesn’t know what has happened to them. She wonders whether this is her fault. they’re all surface-level jokes and banter, but there’s no heart. they talk about destruction like it’s commonplace, like it doesnt matter (and by the end of the century, it was normal, but the first few worlds had wrecked all of them)

She offers them the test. Which of you is the smartest? Which of you is the strongest? And the bravest? The answer seems obvious to her — but they pick differently. and she knows they are not the same people she recalls in her memory.

…okay so pseudo-fic over, but i still have Thoughts so this answer is just gonna keep going the text train does! not! stop!

like. ive talked about this maybe a thousand times but christ, imagine lucretia realizing how much she royally fucked taako over. because magnus and merle get most of their childhoods intact, right? everything up until the journey. merle’s like a whole goddamn adult when the story begins, and so is magnus. but taako? taako gets lup erased. and i think it’s sufficiently established by the canon that lup and taako were, for a long time, both the biggest influences on each other and the only constant things in each other’s lives, and to take that away, like christ, no wonder taako’s furious at lucretia in the finale. here’s ripping out half his mental architecture, here’s getting rid of one of the lenses through which he perceives the world.

because well, the relationships you have as a kid and the way you learn to interact and socialize with others when you’re young define the way you end up interacting with people for the rest of your life, to some extent. so. of course erasing lup erases a lot of who taako is.

i think lucretia probably realizes this pretty quickly after the boys join the bureau – magnus and merle are a little off, but they’re a relatively straightforward extrapolation of the men she met on the starblaster, just arced in a different way. but taako? taako isn’t even like how she remembers him at the beginning. taako thinks he’s stupid, taako is mean, taako is careless and thoughtlessly cruel and refuses to care, taako is still immensely likable. but. there’s something absent there. and its not like he was a saint before, there’s superficial similarities between the man he was before and the man he is now, but once lucretia starts poking at the whole construct she realizes that he’s working from a completely different mindset than she remembers. i think she feels really bad about this. i think once taako remembers he’s not sure how to feel about the person he is without lup.

im probably overdramatizing. but. jesus. you know?

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

erroneouslygrey  asked:

Drarry 8th year idea: Harry goes completely silent one day&lays down&cries in the 8th year common room&doesnt leave for 4+ days. His friends don't do anything to help him bc he made them promise after the war to leave him completely alone when he gets depressed unless it lasts > 2 weeks. Draco starts out irritated bc he cant fight with harry but then gets so worried that he becomes sick and can't move from the common room either. They start to talk & realize they've liked each other for a while

Welp, I tried

Harry was sitting in the shared eighth year common room alone when Draco burst through the door. “Why aren’t you in potions?” He asked harshly.

Harry kept staring into the fire, fiddling with his wand. “Didn’t feel like going.” He replied flatly. Draco huffed and crossed his arms.

“You haven’t been going to your classes for the past four days.”

“Great observational skills.” He said, still not looking at Draco.

“Why?” He asked, his voice softer than it was before.

“Why do you care?”

“It’s getting quite boring, not being able to taunt someone.” He sat down next to Harry. “I guess after the war that’s the only thing that felt normal.”

Harry finally turned to look at him. Malfoy was facing the fire, his face showed no malice or disdain. “How can anything be normal now and days?”

“Well, we have to try don’t we? I mean, we can’t forget the war, but we can do little things to cope with our losses; to remind us that it’s over.”

“How very philosophical of you.” Draco hummed in response. “However, taunting me won’t remind you that it’s over, but instead it’ll feel like it never happened. We can’t get over something if we deny that it happened.” Draco turned to face Harry and quirked an eyebrow. “I think, after everything, we should be friends.” He held out his hand for Draco.

Keep reading

kissesfrombangtanatnight  asked:

Goodmorning! 🌞(It's 1:17am where I live) could you do a BTS Reaction to their child calling 911 on them when you (spouse) are at work. This seriously happened to my grandmother. My sister was three years old at the time and my grandmother made her sit on the couch and told her not to get up, so my sister called 911 and told them my grandma was being mean to her and they thought she was abusing her, so the cops almost came to house. If you can't I understand. Have a good day! :)

Thank you for your request!


He would handle the situation rather responsibly, but the second he walked back inside, he would stare at your child and probably start laughing, but scolding also.

“Wah! I could have gotten arrested!” “How are we going to tell Mommy..?”

Originally posted by jungkookiescookies


Would sigh angrily at your child, before properly explaining to the police what happened. He would walk back in, another long sigh leaving his lips. He would tell you, but he would want to sweeten you up first.

“Mommy is going to be so upset..”

Originally posted by imonaworldtour


His eyes would go wide the second he saw the blue and red lights outside you and his house. He would look at your child, then back at the police, handling it properly. He was upset, but he wouldn’t yell at your child or anything.

“I could have seriously been arrested.” “Aish, Mommy is going to definitely be upset.”

Originally posted by rapnamu


He would scream, not knowing what to do at all. Would probably call you, freaking out as you picked up.

“AH! Y/N I don’t know what to do!” “Yes! Our little trouble maker called the police on me!”

Originally posted by jjeonguk


Would high key be upset with your child as he rubbed his face in frustration. He would tell you, but when you got home he would still be upset with your child, you having to calm him down some.

“You are in so much trouble, little one. Mommy will not be happy.” He would pout at the idea of you being upset with the both of you.

Originally posted by mvssmedia


His eyebrows would shoot up, his eyes going wide. He wouldn’t really know how to handle it. Like, what was he supposed to tell them? That his child refused to sleep, so they called the cops on him? He knew that obviously wouldn’t work. He would still manage, although.

“Uh..” He would make your child explain themselves, calling them over, “Come here, little one!”

Originally posted by cutae-hyungie


He would not know how to react. Should he be mad? Upset? Should he just laugh it off? He wouldn’t want to tell you, afraid you would be mad at both your child and him.

“We are not telling Mommy about this.”

Originally posted by jeonbase


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.”