but my shades are drawn and my phone's flash is bright

Yêu [Suga]

{{ verb // to love romantically }}

You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you.

Fluff. Slice of Life AU. 2,103 words.

➵ inspired by Troye Sivan’s for him.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

I love you.

It is a mere common-place, frequently used phrase made up of simply three words, eight letters, two spaces, yet it never fails to make your cheeks turn pink, your eyes turn into crescents, and your lips turn into a smile.

Especially when it comes from your boyfriend.

Yoongi is sleeping soundly next to you as you look at him fondly, tenderly grazing your fingers across the apples of his cheeks and smoothing out the stray strands of his hair. He looks so innocent, dark eyelashes that frame his sleepy eyes now laying softly on his cheeks and a smile barely there on his lips. You gently trace your fingertips over his features and stop abruptly when his nose scrunches up. He lets a quiet snore escape between his teeth, and you giggle softly.

You love him with every fiber of your being, heart, and soul.

And while he rarely expresses the sentiment to you, you know he loves you just as much.

After all, Yoongi is the one who taught you that there are different ways to mean I love you.

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Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (3/7)

Part 1 || Part 2 ////// Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

[[A/N: Gracie is patterned off of my own lovely dog, Gabi, while Mrs. Abaya is inspired by all my favorite Filipino aunties. Shoutout to @anextrapart, for her continued ideas and inspiration and without whom this first part wouldn’t even exist!] 

He starts running in the mornings again. Partially to give himself some sort of routine again and partially because Paul busts his ass at training every week and he needs to build up his stamina.

They’re long, meandering runs through the city. He reacquaints himself with the neighborhoods of his youth, maps new routes that he tries not to catalogue and categorize in terms of probability of escape.

Sometimes, he runs past the Verrazano bridge, casts a glance at the park bench and sees a flash of Karen’s hair in his mind’s eye. The ache in his chest always expands when he does, but all it does it push him to run faster.

Other times, when it’s too early in the morning for anyone to be up, he runs past Karen’s apartment building. He always glances up at her windowsill, even though it’s the dead of winter and any flowers outside would likely freeze.

Still, he can’t stop the pressing weight of disappointment when the windowsill is just a windowsill, the shades drawn and gray against the glass.

One morning, he gets up later than usual and goes for his run when most respectable people are already at work. He runs for longer than usual, let’s his mind wander and his feet take him where they will – is only mildly surprised when he rounds the corner and finds himself staring down the familiar road leading to Karen’s apartment.

Out of habit, he glances up at her apartment and stops in the middle of the street, stock still as he stares up at her window.

The shades are up and he can just make out the bright yellow of daffodils pressed against the glass. His breath comes in short spurts, his heart beating fast in his chest in a way that he knows isn’t from the effort of running for the last hour.

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Diamond Dogs (Part 13) [a Barry Allen AU]

a/n: (look how hot he is in that gif, like damn) another diamond dogs woot woot! PLEASE RETWEET, LIKE, SHARE MY VIDEO!

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |

The first step to resolving a war is the art of reasoning. That’s what Barry aims to do today when he visits Zolomon. He left you back at the mansion protected by Winn; aka, your favorite bodyguard. Cisco pops open the door, allowing the mob boss to exit the sleek black car, taking in the Z mansion. It’s not nearly as big as his; more stretched and not as many rooms; dark and gloomy.

With a long, drawn out sigh, Barry adjusts the collar of his black windbreaker, strutting up the dark blue steps. Cisco knocks on the door, getting back into position, the other bodyguards following behind. The dark blue set of doors swing open, revealing Hunter, dressed in a leather jacket over a white t-shirt. “Barry, come in.” he smirks, leading the other mob boss through the dark hallway, to the office area. “So, how’s the-”

“Look, Zolomon, I don’t wanna start a war, a’ight?” the brunette cuts him off, hazel eyes staring daggers. One of his hands is curled into a fist while the other hovers midair. Hunter frowns, crossing his arms. “So, I’m makin’ you an offer.” he grumbles, cracking one of his knuckles, rings shining under the light. “You don’t touch my girl and baby, and, boom, war avoided. Deal?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a little smirk.

It appears like Hunter is mulling over the deal; head raised, eyes squinted, hands behind his back. “Hmm…that does sound reasonable…” he thinks out loud, nodding slowly. Barry relaxes slightly, muscles becoming less tense. “But…” Hunter quickly pulls a gun from the waistband of his blue jeans, firing at the younger man. The bullet flies into his left shoulder, causing him to hiss, tumbling backwards. “I enjoy war.” he grins, a twinkle of chaos in his blue eyes.

Barry grits his teeth, struggling in Cisco’s arms that try to restrain him. “You bastard! Burn in hell! Let’s go boys!” he seethes as some of the bodyguards shoot. With the aid of Cisco, he manages to exit the mansion, hobbling to the car. His back hits the leather seat, making him wince, clutching his shoulder; hand becoming bloody. “Drive, drive, drive! Home!” he shouts; the saufer obeys, quickly taking off. Barry gulps, peering back and diving down as bullets fly through the windshield.


When Barry collapses onto the hardwood floor, Cisco grabs the bandages from the cabinet, passing by you. “Boss?” Winn calls out, following after the tan man, keeping you behind him. A pain groan escapes the mob boss; black t-shirt ripped off, doused in a pool of blood. You gasp, going to move around Winn. “Hey, hey, Cisco’s gonna patch him up, okay? Calm -”

You struggle, seeing Cisco wrap the gauze over his chest; your (his) gray hoodie sways at your growing stomach. “Let me see him!” you shout, shoving Winn off, socked feet slipping over to him. “Barry! Oh my god!” you cry, eyes filling with tears while you cover your face with your hands.

He peers up at you, hissing as Cisco finishes tightening the gauze. “I’m fine, babydoll… Just had a little disagreement, that’s all.” he explains through gritted teeth. With a loud gasp, he sits up, stomach scrunching in on itself, bright mossy green eyes blown wide. You sniffle, choking back a sob; Barry stands up. “Hey, don’t cry, sweets. I’m okay, I’m okay.” he repeats, grabbing the back of your head with his right hand, pulling you into his side, “Shh…” he purrs, rubbing your hair.

“W-what happened?” you ask, cupping his face in your hands. He doesn’t answer you, but you know. “Zolomon…” you grit your teeth, fingers sinking into his pale cheeks subconsciously. “I swear, if I see him…” you fume, face turning a deep shade of red. Oh, you are livid!

Barry takes one of your hands in his, shaking his head, damp hair falling just above his thick eyebrow. “No. You need to calm down, babydoll.” he winces, face scrunching in pain. “It’s - it’s not good for the baby; you being tense.” he groans, stumbling into the doorframe. You jump, going to help him. “Cisco, Winn, get me to my office.” he barks, watching the two bodyguards prop him up; you follow behind them.

The mob boss slumps in the big dark office chair, hands gripping the armrests, hoisting himself up better. “Winn, alert team Supergirl. Cisco, Legends. I’ll contact-” he hisses, reaching for the phone. “I’ll contact team Arrow. Got it?” They both nod, scampering out of the room. Barry looks up at you; phone nuzzled in between his ear and shoulder. “What? What’s with the face?” he questions, voice laced in pain.

Breathing in deeply, you lean on his brown desk, running a hand through his hair. “You need sleep; maybe have a doctor look at that, too.” His lips form a flat line. “At least come sleep with me. You were shot, Barry!”

“Not the first time.”


“Oliver shot me with an arrow…on multiple occasions…” he mumbles, slamming the phone down and getting up on wobbly legs. “Look, I’ll take a nap with you, babydoll. But I ain’t goin’ to a doctor.” he reasons, hobbling towards the stairs; you sigh, rubbing your stomach.


Title: Three Days Ago - part 4
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: ANGST!!! Seriously, if you are not in for a good cry, carry on. Haul tissues if you do decide to read it. Language, blood, injury and all that comes with it. For spoilerish reasons I will leave further warnings out.
Word Count: 3162 words
Summary: You and Dean are thinking of saying goodbye to your hunting carriers, when one last case messes it all up.
Author’s Note: Part four and final part of Three Days Ago is sad, Tumblrs. I hope you enjoy it as much as the Fields of Gold series. It was my pleasure to write this.

Read previous parts here!
Part one - Part two - Part three

Three days ago you ran across a suspicious news article and promised yourself: one last job.
Three days ago you picked up on a trail that would turn out to be the end of all that is beautiful in your life.
Three days ago you had no idea that Dean would be forced to keep your promise instead, because this case would be his last of everything.

“Dean! No!!!”

The damage is done before you can even think of a plan to prevent it from happening. As you haste around the corner and enter a dark alley in one of the many neglected neighborhoods of Chicago, gun trapped and steady between both hands, the hunter you care so much for comes into view, pushed against the brick wall by the shapeshifter that’s wearing you to the costume party. Making a split second decision you fire two silver bullets, both hit the shifter in the chest and pierce its heart. When the creature turns to you horrified, the light coming from the lamppost on the corner of the street behind you hits its eyes, igniting them to flash abnormally bright one last time. Then the spitting image of you crumbles to the ground, a fist clasped around the handle of the knife, pulling the weapon from Dean’s chest as the body of the thing you just killed falls.

Every detail is clear, your senses heightened by the adrenaline. It all happens so fast, yet you are very much aware of what’s playing out in front of you. The fresh crimson red on the blade, the gasp that escapes from Dean’s mouth as the knife is roughly drawn from his flesh, the acceleration of your own heart beat that triggers a new state of inner panic. You lower the gun, big eyes watching him in shock as he turns his head to meet your gaze.

A desperate, hopeless shade of emerald green.
Begging you silently to catch him before he collapses.

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The Accidental Boyfriend

 Jimin finds himself pretending to be some stranger’s boyfriend in the mall / Yoonmin / pg 

          Jimin went to the mall only to get that soap with the new fragrance that his mom had been wanting, and he most certainly did not expect to find himself holding hands with some extremely good-looking stranger with mint colored hair. How he found himself in that situation, he had no idea… but he wasn’t going to start complaining about it.

           Lets back up a bit. Jimin was just walking out of the Bath and Body Works store with his mom’s present in hand, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the mint haired man approaching him. He felt intimidated, because he had absolutely no idea what this man wanted with him. So, he started walking faster. Unfortunately the mint haired man caught up with him, and tapped Jimin’s shoulder lightly. Jimin reluctantly turned around to face the man. Jimin always thought of himself as an outgoing man and generally got along with people, but when he was around cute people he always found himself screwing up somehow.

           Jimin stared at the man with wide eyes, with his mind jumping to all kinds of different scenarios as to why this man was stopping him. Maybe he wanted to mug him? No, that’s unlikely, not in the middle of a bustling mall. Maybe he dropped his wallet, and the man was simply returning it? He thought up many different scenarios, but what came actually happened, most certainly hadn’t crossed his mind at all. The mint haired man got straight to the point and said, “Would you mind pretending to be my boyfriend for an hour?”

           If Jimin had been drinking something at that time, he would’ve ended up taking a spit take. Fortunately, he hadn’t been drinking anything. His eyes bulged at the sudden request, and he only gaped at the man. The man smirked at his reaction and said, “Well, is that a yes or a no?”

           Jimin recovered from his shock, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as realization of what the man had just asked hit him. And as much as Jimin would love to pretend to date this very handsome man, he needs to remember that the man is also just a complete stranger he has never even met before.  Jimin managed to stutter out, “A-a-and c-can I ask w-why?”

           The mint haired man shrugged and then simply said, “My ex-boyfriend is around here somewhere, and I want to show him that I am doing better without him”.

“Oh,” Jimin said. Jimin sympathized with the man. He’s had plenty of bad experiences with ex relationships that made him want to show them that he’s doing just fine without them, and since his mom wasn’t expecting him back for another couple of hours, he thought to himself, why not? “I’ll do it,” Jimin told him.

           And that brings us back to beginning. Jimin is holding hands with some stranger that he still doesn’t know the name of. That doesn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in his stomach though. As if the man was reading his mind he says, “My name is Yoongi by the way, what’s yours?”

           “uh… Jimin,” he says quietly, still a little flustered from the whole situation. “So, um… what does this ex-boyfriend of yours look like?” Jimin asked. And for some reason Yoongi’s face drops and hesitates, “um… well, uh… he’s about our height, and has black hair… uh… yeah, that’s right.”

           That doesn’t help at all, that’s so vague, Jimin thinks to himself. He just shrugs it off though. The two fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Jimin momentarily forgets that it isn’t real. He can’t help but feel disappointed at that fact. They walk like that for a whole hour, only stopping at the food court to get a snack. While snacking, Jimin decided to break the silence and said, “So… tell me about yourself.”

           Yoongi was little startled at first that Jimin had broken the silence, but then a small smile slid over his face, and that’s when Jimin’s heart stopped. Well, not literally, but with the way he felt, it most certainly seemed like it did. The smile was small, but to Jimin it seemed like it was brighter than the sun itself.

           Then, they started their first actual conversation, and it turns out that they share a lot of the same interests. They both go to the same college and are majoring in something that both relate to music. They get lost in the conversation, and Jimin loses track of time. Jimin glances at his watch and panics when he realized they had been talking for nearly three hours. “I really need to go home now! It’s getting late. Did you ever see your ex-boyfriend?” Jimin asked.

            Yoongi stares at him for a moment, and a flash of realization crosses his face. “Oh,” Yoongi says, “I made the whole ex-boyfriend thing up, because I thought you were hella cute, and wanted to hold your hand” and with that he smirks and pulls out a pen. Jimin was just sitting there in shock, and didn’t even realize that Yoongi was writing something down on a piece of paper. Yoongi slides the paper over to him, winks, and then leaves without another word. After a few minutes or processing what just happened, Jimin looks down at the paper, which contained a phone number and which also said, “call me” with a smiley face drawn next to it. At that moment, Jimin couldn’t help but smile, and whispered to no one in particular, “I will”.

Originally posted by taegii

Ticket to Ride

Author’s Note: A couple of quick things. First, thank you to meansomething for beta-ing this for me. Most appreciated! Secondly, I’m dedicating this to romanimp and ratherembarrassing for being such good sports with my playful meltdown over their fantastic story “The Mothering Thing of Us.” 


Peggy Carter could’ve taken a car to work every day. It’s not as if Howard Stark hadn’t offered. But Peggy despised appearing pretentious and everything Howard touched seemed to reek of it. So she’d politely declined his offer and told him she was content to walk, catch a taxi or, if need be, take the subway. After all, it wasn’t as if she lived terribly far from her office, and a brisk walk always helped invigorate her before she started her work day.

Today, however, she was sorely regretting that decision.

The torrential downpour that hammered New York had virtually ensured she was unable to catch a taxi. So, huddling under her umbrella, Peggy had trudged down the block and into the nearest station to catch a train to take her Grand Central Terminal.

Unfortunately, the East Side Line seemed to become more and more crowded every time she took it, especially at the 86th Street stop, and today was no exception. Although the doors had opened to release a multitude of people, an even larger crowd poured in, pressing and pushing against each other, making the already full car ready to burst at the seams.

Peggy gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the pole.

I should’ve taken a cab.

As the doors began to close, she was jostled out of her thoughts when a blur of a person darted through the doors just before they slid shut – a risky move that had resulted in more than one injury for an unseasoned rider.

The person in question pushed their way through until they stood before Peggy, wrapping their hand around the same pole Peggy’s hand currently occupied.  With this new closeness,Peggy saw that it was a woman. The daredevil gave Peggy a bright smile and then looked down at her phone, fingers expertly tapping out a text message.

Peggy studiously looked away, but couldn’t help breathing in deeply as the faint scent of lavender wafted from the woman.

God, she smelled amazing.

Catching herself leaning closer, Peggy quickly moved back and tried to covertly study the woman in front of her. Chestnut curls peeked from beneath the cap nestled on her head, and Peggy could swear the eyes that smiled at her had been a lovely shade of green. She was petite and obviously energetic as evidenced from the way she kept bouncing on the balls of her feet.

And why did she smell so fantastic?

Peggy frowned. What the hell was wrong with her? Since when did she begin randomly smelling strangers on the subway? She needed to get more sleep at night. She’d been burning the midnight oil far too often these last few weeks.

The train slowed as it pulled into the 59th Street Station and Peggy was mildly disappointed to realize the woman was exiting, but her disappointment morphed into pleasure when the stranger turned and flashed her a dazzling smile before disappearing through the doors.

Blue, Peggy corrected. The woman’s eyes were a brilliant shade of blue.

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