cerulean blues

I’ve Known You All My Life (Part Four)

Sam Holland x Reader

Words: 3,328 (Ooooooh, boy…)

I just want to say that I’m grateful to everyone for supporting this series (it’s a series now! omg). Your comments and messages and likes and reblogs seriously, seriously mean so fucking much to me, it all inspires me to keep going. I can’t accurately put it all into words so thank you all so much. Part Four is finally here and I hope I’ve done a good job and I hope you all like it! REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, SORRY!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

tagging: @trinityjadec, @aussie-mantle, @tiau-man, @cmon-spiderling, @sam-a-holland, @quacktom, @nedslaptop, @wishiwasbffswiththebrothers, @lostholland, @allaroundaddict, @blackstarryroses, @dej-okay, @twinsofia, @neewtmas, @penis-parkerr, @samanthajothomarose, @sunnysmileslife, @confusedascas, @tiny-friggin-human, @empathiccally, @swimmeranxiety, @nvmmendes, @sebenagomez, @the-girl-with-no-plan

(My taglist has grown so much, it makes me wanna cry. I love each and every one of you beautiful people.) If you’d like to be tagged in future parts and in my other fics/imagines, please message me! <3


It’s been three weeks, three long weeks since that fateful day in the Holland household. Three weeks since you’ve set foot inside the familiar halls, three weeks since you’ve sat on their cozy, beat-up couch, three weeks since you’ve kicked Paddy’s ass at his video games (he was thirteen, you didn’t have to let him win anymore like when he was younger), three weeks since you’ve laughed at Dom’s jokes, three weeks since you’ve eaten dinner with your favourite family apart from your own.

Three fucking painful weeks since Sam basically evicted you from his life.

Three weeks since the last time you felt like yourself.

Harry visited you daily since then, making sure you were eating, maintaining your well-being, and all that jazz. It wasn’t any better back at his house either. The hostility that hung precariously in the air was almost choking him, as well as everybody else, even Tessa could feel it.

The Holland twins, who used to love being in each other’s company, were no longer on speaking terms. It was too much for Harry to even be in the same room as his twin brother ever since you ran out the door that day. He was never going to forget the way you sobbed uncontrollably in his arms once your legs finally gave out from how hard you ran just to get away.

Sam had caused that, he was the one who inflicted that much pain on you. Harry wasn’t chummy with the idea of forgetting that any time soon.

“Y/N! I’m here and I’ve got food!” Harry yelled as he opened your front door. He needed to remind you to keep it locked from now on.

The house was relatively quiet as he made his way to your bedroom, Harry knew without a doubt that you haven’t even left your bed yet, and it was well into the afternoon. He rapped on your door twice and opened it. The cool temperature of your room hugged his body as he closed the door and made his way to you.

His suspicions were indeed correct. You were still cocooned in your blankets, eyes damp from the crying you’ve been doing in your sleep. Harry gazed at your serene face, those were the only times he could see you resemble your usual self. Most of the time you were just crying, and most of the time, he was there to catch your tears as they fell.

Setting your lunch down on your study desk, he went over to your bed and lay next to you. You turned to face him, still asleep, and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso.

“Sammy boy..” you mumbled as you slept, just loud enough for him to hear

Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat but he recovered quickly. He wrapped his arms around you and hoped what he thought wasn’t right.

By the time you woke up, the sun had already begun to set, its light bathing the sky in cerulean blues, baby pinks, and gentle lilacs. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and just gazed at it through your window, you desperately wanted to remember how hopeful the sky made you feel.

“G’mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.” Harry greeted you. He was now sat on the floor, one of your old yearbooks in his hands. A small smile managed to materialise on your lips when you saw him, you loved how he took up the sole initiative to take care of you, an initiative you yourself had already given up on.

“Hi.” your voice was still thick with sleep

“Eat.” he pointed at the tupperware sat on your desk

You nodded obediently, rising out of bed, still wrapped in your blankets. You sat on your desk chair.

“I miss your mum.” you stated as you opened the tupperware lid to reveal your favourite meal. Nikki was the best, hands down.

“She misses you too, believe me. She’s always asking me ‘How’s Y/N?’ and ‘When is she coming over again? Hasn’t it been long enough?’” Harry told you as he watched you eat, making sure you ate it all

“Hasn’t it been long enough?”

“Uh,” he scratched the back of his neck uneasily. “I..I’m not sure?”

“How’s Sam?”

The question you’ve been trying your hardest not to think about, for weeks, finally made its way out of your mouth. Did you actually want to know though?  What if he was so much happier now that you were out of the picture? Were you really ready to face that reality?

“Pretty shit.” Harry answered honestly, he tried to ignore the hopeful look that just crossed your face

“He usually just stays up in his room. Only comes down to eat and when Paddy is able to drag him out. He, uh, doesn’t play the piano anymore.”

Harry knew how much you loved it when Sam played, so he didn’t know why that little tidbit of information slipped out. He immediately wanted to kick himself as he watched your face fall, he had to bounce back, and fast.

“Hey, why don’t we head to the park? Have a lie down with nature?” he wagged his eyebrows up and down in an attempt to make you laugh, or smile, or just anything positive

Luckily for him, you nodded, placing the now empty tupperware upon your desk.

The sky was still painted in brilliance as you two reached the park. Harry laid out the blanket and you lay down immediately, letting the heavens completely fill your eyes.

“There’s nothing more beautiful than this.” you sighed contentedly, allowing the calm to take over your senses

“Oh shut up, Y/N,” he pointed his camera lens at you and clicked away. “You can’t say that when I’m looking right at you, you idiot.”

A rather elegant snort left your lips. “Fucking hell, Harry. That’s what you’re going for? No longing gazes and heartfelt poetry about how my eyes remind you of the night sky?”

“Eh, not really my style.” he replied, looking over the photos he just took of you

You snatched the camera from his hands and shut it off, placing it aside carefully. Harry was so fussy about his camera, it was fun to mess with him about it.

“Oi, Y/N. If anything happens to my camera, I will not hesitate to hurt you.” he threatened. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would follow through with his threat but he wouldn’t hurt you hurt you. Harry could never.

“Harry Robert, I think you should stop looking at life through your camera lens and start looking at it through your own eyes.”

He really wanted to take more pictures of you, it was the perfect setting and the lighting was just about to get more dramatic but the wistful tone in your voice and the dreamy look on your face coerced him to lie next to you.

“Can I at least take a picture of the sky?”

You obliged. “Just one shot.”

“I better make it good then.” Harry focused his lens on you just as you closed your eyes. He captured you in your tranquil state against the gorgeous backdrop.

Once he was satisfied, he handed his camera back to you, reminding you to handle it with care.

You two watched in silence as twilight began its graceful descent upon the sky, this was the best you’ve felt in a long time and you wished this moment would never end. Harry wished the same, but for a completely different reason.

The park was close to empty, people have already left to start dinner. A few stragglers were left behind, a group of rowdy boys skipping stones by the lake, a couple snuggling underneath the branches of an oak tree, and a lone boy, just a few steps behind where you were, sitting on the grass with a Blue staffy resting next to him.

Sam watched as his brother slipped an arm around you and winced. This was the first time he’s seen you in weeks and of course he just had to see you and Harry.

He felt his heart crash down to the ground beneath him, he chastised himself for feeling like that. This was the decision he made, and he had to try and live with it.

“C'mon, Tess. There’s no place for us here anymore.” Sam cast one last longing glance at you before walking home with Tessa

Night fell rather quickly, icy chills began to seep through your clothing. You shivered only once but Harry immediately escorted you home, his sweater now keeping the cold at bay. The walk home was silent, you were thinking about what Harry had told you earlier.

Sam wasn’t leaving his room unless it was for food, he stopped playing the piano which was the last thing he was doing before he kicked you out of his life. It was sad but at the same time, it brought you some comfort to know that you weren’t the only one taking it hard.

“Can I be assured you’ll take care of yourself?” he asked you as you reached your front door

“Yes, you can.”

Harry nodded in approval. He still stood there with you, awkwardly shuffling around.

“Did you want your sweater back?” you asked, one hand on the doorknob

“No. No, keep it. I just.. Uh..”

This was weird. Harry was always the more confident, outgoing one, now he was stumbling over his words and blushing like mad. He finally mustered up enough courage to go through with what he’d been mulling over.

Harry leaned forward, praying it would work out okay. You caught on quickly and immediately entered panic mode. Your brain screeched at you and you turned your head just in time for his lips to make contact with your cheek.

Holy motherfucker. Harry Holland.. Just tried to kiss you. Harry. Your friend, Harry.

What the fuck were you meant to do? You threw him a tiny smile before quickly retreating into the comfort of your house. The minute you closed the door, you leaned against it, and sank down to the floor with your eyes screwed shut.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” you whispered, burying your head in your arms

From the other side of the door, Harry stood, face in his hands. The rest of the walk home, his thoughts consisted of, “Why am I such a fucking idiot?!” and that one thought that’s been nagging at him every since you and Sam stopped talking. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to entertain the possibility but the signs were seemingly pointed in that direction.

When he got home, it was dinnertime. All the Hollands (except Tom) were present at the table.

“Harry, love, come on and eat.” Nikki called. Dinner time was a crucial time in the Holland household, you could only be excused if you were sick. Brothers at war and hurt feelings were not justifiable.

Begrudgingly, Harry took his usual seat next to Sam. The air around them was palpable, heavy, and unsettling. Everyone tried their best to ignore it but really, the animosity between the twins has been going on for weeks. Only the sound of utensils scraping against plates could be heard in the silence of the dining room, it was enough to make someone go mad. It was enough to make Dom go mad.

“That is it!” he exclaimed suddenly, slamming his spoon and fork down on the table. The harsh sound made everyone look up, even Tessa raised her head.

Dom stood up and stalked over to the twins, he tapped both their shoulders for them to follow him. They shared a brief, frightened look before scrambling out of their seats. Dom instructed them to step out to the backyard, once they were out, he locked the sliding door.

“Now, you two are more than welcome to come back inside when you’ve sorted everything out!” he yelled through the glass. Dom waved cheerfully before walking off.

Harry knocked on the glass impatiently. “Dad! Dad, come on this is ridiculous!”

When no one came to his rescue, Harry sat dejectedly on one of their lawn chairs, completely ignoring Sam, who was sitting across from him.

“How’s Y/N?” Sam asked, out of the blue

What a stupid fucking question. They haven’t spoken in weeks because of what he did and know the bugger wanted to know how you were doing? Sam’s utter stupidity was beginning to trigger Harry’s infamous temper.

“She cries herself to sleep every night, if that answers your question.” Harry snapped, heat flooding through his ears

Sam immediately shut his mouth, it felt like Harry had just slapped him. Harry was waiting though, he was waiting for Sam to retaliate or say something, anything that would give him a reason to just go off on him. But then he thought about you, and Harry realised that was all the reason he needed.

“What’s your fucking problem anyway?” he began

The sheer venom in Harry’s voice made Sam’s head snap up, he looked at him with his brows furrowed together. He remained silent, just glaring at his twin.

“What’s your problem, Sam?” Harry questioned him again, his voice began to harden. “I still don’t fucking understand how you could’ve said all that to her. You have no fucking idea how lucky you’ve been-”

“I fucking know!” Sam abruptly stood up, knocking his chair down in the process. It hit the ground with a resounding clang, the sound made Harry jump.

“I fucking know I was lucky. I fucking know I’m an idiot. Everything you’ve got to say to me, Harry, I already fucking know! So, how about I tell you something you don’t know?” Sam clenched and unclenched his fists, his heart was in his throat. But he threw all caution to the wind.

“I’m in love with her, Harry. I always have been.” This was the first time Sam ever said it out loud, it felt good. For a split second, until he saw the flames ignite within Harry’s eyes.

Harry lunged forward, tightly balling Sam’s shirt in his fists.

“What fucking right do you have to say that to me right now, huh?!” he shook Sam roughly, his lips were curling into a snarl “What fucking right do you have when you know how I feel about her?!”

Sam pushed Harry off him. “None! Why the fuck do you think I told her everything I did?! It was. For. You, Harry!” he stabbed a finger into Harry’s chest, emphasising on each word.

“It was for you because I knew you had feelings for her, while I was too busy seeing her as my best friend instead of the greatest fucking thing that’s ever happened to my life!”

Sam sank down on the soft grass and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re always.. You’re always besting me, Harry.” he chuckled humourlessly, tears beginning to sting painfully in his eyes

Harry watched as Sam sat on the grass, slowly caving into himself. A strangled sob escaped Sam’s lips as he spoke again.

“With Y/N, I never felt like I had to compete-”

“It isn’t a competition, Sam. It never was.” Harry interjected, looking at his brother sadly. All the anger, all the tension that had been built up for weeks was finally reaching its decline. He joined him on the grass and put an arm around his shoulders.

“It’s just when you admitted your feelings to her, I already knew that I’d lost.” Sam confided. The tears flowed freely from his eyes now, he felt so relieved to be able to release all of his pent up feelings.

“I never wanted to hurt her, Harry. Or you.That’s why I..”

“That’s why you let her go.” Harry finished for him, finally understanding what really went on.

Sam nodded, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Harry let the realisation churn within him. Sam was in love with you, he was in love with you. But he was smart enough to know who you were going to choose between them.

“She’s in love with you too, you know.” he told Sam. It was so painful to admit but Harry knew he was doing the right thing.

The way Sam looked as Harry said it, resembled a deer in the headlights. Harry would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel like someone was squeezing his heart until it gave out.

“You’re clearly fucking with me.” Sam shook his head. What a load of horse shit, right? He saw you two at the park earlier, Harry had his arm around you. It seemed like you two were starting to fall in love.

“I’ve spent every day with her for the past three weeks. She cries over you, she says your name in her sleep and,” Harry took a deep breath, an attempt to soften the self- inflicted blow from what he was going to say next. “And when she looks at me, she’s happy but I know she’d much rather be looking at you.”

The gravity of Harry’s words was starting to dawn on Sam. I mean, he guessed he had to believe that what Harry was saying was true. He was the only one who’d been seeing you those few weeks.

“It’s.. True?”

“Oh, believe me, mate. I really wish it wasn’t.”

Harry really fucking wished with everything he had that it wasn’t true. But it was and he knew that.

“What now?” Sam mumbled, picking off blades of grass and crumpling them in his hands.

“What now is that you don’t fuck up with her any more than you already have or else I swear to God, I will murder you and no one will find you ever again then I am taking Y/N for myself.” Harry replied, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Fuck. He never cried, never deliberately in front of Sam either. Sam was the big baby, not him.

Harry shoved his fists into his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling but it was no use. The second Sam saw his brother crying, his earlier statement began to make sense to him.

“D-Did you mean..?”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed in exasperation, his eyes were red-rimmed and he just about hated everything. “Yes, Sam. Go get her, you absolute prat!”

At that, Sam hastily clambered to his feet but not before giving Harry a tight hug that made the air whoosh out of his lungs.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Oh fuck off, Sam.” Harry replied, smiling at his twin brother despite the tears trickling down his cheeks. “Now, go!” he clapped Sam on the back urgently.

Sam ran to the sliding door and banged on it, Dom finally opened up.

“I hope you two have buried the hatchet-”

“No time to talk! Gotta go!” Sam yelled as he dashed out of the house

He was on his way, running out the front door and through the lamplit streets that led to your house, that led to you. After all this time, Sam Holland was finally going to pour his heart out to you, he was finally going to tell you exactly how he felt.

He felt like he was ready.

Were you?


Part 5

"Do We Have To?" Part 2

Word count: idk 

 Warnings: Smutty smut smut 

 A/N: thank you for the feedback on part one! I decided that we needed a smutty ending to this. I’ll try tag people from part one on this one too! I’ll try to remember them. Please leave feedback and drop some asks in my ask box. The spacing is a little weird. I’m in my phone for this one. I wrote this with my mom sitting next to me 😂 

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

 “Stay quiet, baby. You don’t want anyone to hear you.” Bucky coos in your ear. He has you hoisted up, legs wrapped around his waist. Your panties pushed to the side. His cock is still confined in his tight black jeans. 

 He had pulled you quickly into the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret not even ten minutes ago and he already has you wet and wanting. He roughly ripped your jeans of your body causing you to drop everything. He pulled out the black corset meant for your anniversary and stripped you. He watched as you slowly did up the corset staring directly into his cerulean blues.

 “Don’t tease me, Sweetheart. We have to stay quiet. I don’t want ya gettin’ kicked outta this place. I wanna see you in every piece of lingerie they have.” His words had you melting right there. You sped up and launched yourself at Bucky. He was ready to catch you. His assassin background being helpful. He held you up and pulled the bottom part of the corset away from your dripping core. You quickly yanked his jeans and boxers down his thighs, releasing his thick cock standing at full attention. 

 “Cmon Buck, I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you inside me. Please baby.” You knew he loves to hear you beg for him. It made his cock even harder, if that was even possible. He pulled your lips to his just as he slipped inside you. His mouth catching your loud moan. 

 “Quiet Sweetheart. We gotta go fast. I wanna get home and fuck you in all of your new panties.” he whispered quickly before he pecked your lips one more time. His thrusts were quick and deep. Hitting all the right spots. 

“Buck. Oh my god! Right there baby! Right there!” you moaned into his ear. He kept hitting your g-spot continuously. The tip of his cock reaching depths you never knew was possible. 

 “Tell me your close y/n. I can’t last much longer. Your squeezin’ me so tight baby. I can’t hold it. Cum baby. Cum!” 

 Your orgasm exploded. You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet. Leaving purple bruises in places he could show off at training the next day. His hips started to stutter, losing their rhythm. A few thrusts later he came burying himself deep inside you you. You felt his warm cum coat your walls. He slowly slid down the door to the dressing room. All his energy spent fucking you senseless. You heard a small hesitant knock at the door followed by a stuttering voice, 

“I-I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m going to need you to exit the dressing room with your partner. Please buy your items and exit the store. I’m afraid you won’t be allowed back here.” 

You started blushing while Bucky let out a howl of laughter. Quickly the both of you got dressed avoiding eye contact with all consultants as you left the dressing room. Bucky had the smug “I just got fucked good” look on his face. You were mortified but also pretty pleased with yourself. You knew you would be buying all lingerie online from this day forward. 


@papi-chulo-bucky @ursulaismymiddlename @totheendofthelinepal

Lust Spilt from Mason Jars

Painting was Levi’s worst habit.

He wished he could stop painting the blues and greens of those ocean irises and sunkissed skin sitting vulnerably in front of him. He wished he could stop, but he knows that he can’t. He was in too deep - too addicted to those chocolate mocha curls, the defined muscles that curved and mended his body, the bonfire scent that never failed to stimulate and heighten his senses, the raspy morning voice that seemed to always tumble out through those lustrous looking lips. He was hooked - completely enraptured and addicted to this man. And none of it was his to own. This man was a desire made to be off limits.

Eren was like an endangered species, a rare and exotic mammal worshipped and praised in a world filled with power thirsty men. He was the branches of the tropical trees reaching for the rich, moist air of the Amazon rain forest - the dew drops slipping off the fresh, greenery leaves and into the rich soil of the Earth. He was the desperate intake of air when rising from the depths of Washington’s freezing waters. He was an area of unknown wonders. An area of vast curiosity. A mystery.

On the other hand, Levi was - well he was the crumpled piece of paper at the bottom of his plastic blue dented trash can. The plastic blue dented trash can in his overcrowded room of pencil shavings and unfinished canvases. He was the smeared smoky watercolors staining the cold concrete flooring of his studio, the sketchy amateur lines inscribed into the massive piles of sketchbooks on his overly cramped desk of spilt mason jars and matted paint brushes. He was an uncompleted mess of cheap clutter - a hoarder, a waste of space.

He wished he could limit the amount of hours that he spent in his studio painting and perfecting those colors flourishing in his eyes, trying to convey the same range of sea green and cerulean blues swimming behind those thick black lashes.

There was just something about those sultry eyes staring back at him all posed and lazy on the stupid old rickety stool he bought from a yard sale but never had the guts to get rid of. He was a true hoarder of the meaningless things, the things that were never picked up by outstretched hands for their cheap outlook. Just like him. Cheap and meaningless.

He looked down at his canvas and cleared his dry throat, his eyes reverting back to the model posed in front of him. He wanted to paint this otherworldly man in red - in the color of passion and lust. He wanted to be the air filling Eren’s lungs that filtered through his body with every intake and exhale leaving his nose. He wanted to be the six hundred dollar trench coat clenched loosely in his white collared fingers just so he could feel him mold around the crevices of his naked skin and drown in his sweltering heat. He wanted to invade every inch of space between Eren’s widespread legs dressed in ripped light washed cutoffs so he could watch their shadows play out the joint connection of their bodies moving and joining in sweet ecstasy. He wanted to be painted in his red.

Levi took in Eren’s full parted lips letting out wisps of generous breaths and listened to the labored breathing of his healthy lungs tumbling through his smooth fleshy pink lips, completely entranced by his caramel chiseled chest slowly inhaling and exhaling. He swallowed.

“Something the matter, Levi? You look…distracted.”

Levi licked his lips and lifted his eyes to settle on Eren’s sculpted jawline and sharp nose. He didn’t want to risk looking into his tantalizing glare. He didn’t want to be tempted by the golden treasures lost at deep sea.

“No…I was…um-” He tsked and furrowed his thin brows in annoyance. Why wasn’t he able to speak? He was a fucking thirty year old man. Not a blubbering fifteen year old.

“Taking a short break?” Eren offered, his voice low, gruff, and dangerously husky.

Levi tightened his sweaty fingers around the paintbrush in his hand and shifted his eyes onto his canvas. “I…” He swallowed and licked his dry lips. Why was it so hard to speak to him today?

When he heard the familiar creaking of the stupid old rickety stool and the soft padding of Eren’s bare feet on the smoky water colored concrete flooring of his studio, Levi felt his heart clench and punch against his ribcage. Fuck.


No, I’m not…I can’t-

Mr. Ackerman.” He whispered.

Levi felt his cheeks redden. Why did he have to go and say shit like that? There was a reason to why he told him not to call him by that, and it was specifically for this reason. He scrunched his nose up. The little shit was probably doing it on purpose.

“We should continue this tomorrow,” Levi muttered, quickly putting away his utensils and color palettes. “You have a meeting in thirty minutes anyways.” He continued, his voice calm and collected. The complete opposite to what he was feeling on the inside.

“Then I’ll cancel it.”

Levi deepened the furrow of his eyebrows and gnawed on his lip. “Well, Hanji is supposed to be coming-” He started before Eren grabbed his chin and turned his face to look at him, his eyes meeting his in an instant.


Levi let out a sharp breath and felt his cheeks burn tremendously as Eren’s thumb caressed his bottom lip, continuing to keep their eyes on each other as Eren slowly pulled down his lip. Just when he was starting to lean down, Levi freaked out and moved to grab onto his portable cart of paint to back away from him, but instead pulled it down with him. He panicked and fell out of his stool, spilling all of his bottles of paint onto him and on the floor in all kinds of colors. Levi cursed and wiped a good amount of paint from his eyes as he stared down at the mess he made. Why was he always like this? It was like his whole life was born to be a mess from the very beginning.

Just as he was about to sit up, Eren’s warm hands grasped onto his face and pushed him back down onto the floor, climbing over his body. Levi could feel the spilt paint seeping into his hair and clothes and clenched his jaw. He felt filthy. Disgusting.

He should be getting up to get a change of clothes and jumping into the shower right this second, but with the presence of Eren over his body, he thought otherwise. Besides, he hardly ever got the chance to be this close to Eren and still have the ability to get away with it. It was like a blessing - as if he was in the presence of a deity, a god.

Levi pressed his paint covered hands on Eren’s bare chest and pushed. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, trying not to focus on how Eren’s hot skin felt under his cold palms. “I will not be responsible for replacing your expensive fucking pants if you end up getting paint on them.”

Eren chuckled. “I don’t plan on it. Besides…” He started, briefly looking down at Levi’s painted lips before he inched down and brushed his mouth over Levi’s, purposefully coating his lips in a dark shade of blue.

“I don’t mind getting dirty.”

anonymous asked:

Sorry if I'm asking too much but could I ask you about the images of Cerulean Gym through the years? I always loved it both in games and anime since is basically Misty's home (or the closest we have) and I feel so nice and nostalgic with that place. And now it looks so cool and well designed that I just want more, sorry ask that but I really love her and that place >.<

I have a folder of pictures of the gym in case I need to reference it in writing/drawings lol, so sure. Here is it in “The Water Flowers of Cerulean City”:

The arena during a battle:

Some interiors and the aquariums:

(Ash: what the hell are those)

More from “The Misty Mermaid” (under the cut because this is getting long):

Keep reading

Army Scars

(Chapter 1)

Summary: Following a life altering accident while on a tour in Bagdad, Arizona Robbins meets Callie Torres through a referral from an old friend. 

(Timeline: around mid-season 6)

Okay, so I haven’t written in a really long time but I got a surge of inspiration recently and decided to start this fic. This first part is really short because I just wanted to get it out there and see how people responded, but the next chapters will be longer. I promise! Feedback is appreciated! I hope you all enjoy it!


“Arizona, are you sure you don’t want to-“


“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Teddy huffed in annoyance.

“You were going to ask if I was sure I didn’t want to go back home,” the blonde responded, nonchalantly, not bothering to look up from the small suitcase she was currently filling with her limited amount of belongings. “Talk to my parents.”

“They need to know,” Teddy countered.

“No. They don’t,” Arizona bit back, roughly shoving one of her many plain white t-shirts into the suitcase.

Teddy didn’t respond, no longer in the mood to argue with the blonde. Instead, she stood in the doorway of the hospital room Arizona had been staying in for the last three months, quietly observing her incredibly, stupidly, stubborn best friend as she tried to balance herself on her injured left leg as well as her perfectly healthy right one, refusing to use her crutches. The task was clearly causing Arizona great discomfort, as it should having only been three months since the incident, seeing as she often shifted most of her weight onto her right leg, and the wincing didn’t go unnoticed either.

“Besides,” Arizona started with a lighter tone, attempting to relieve some of the tension in the room. “Owen said that - Seattle Grace Mercy-West, was it? - Yeah. He said that it was one of the best hospital’s he’s ever worked at. That this Dr. Torres could help give me most of the function back to my leg with this new cartilage of hers,” Arizona finished, finally looking up at Teddy and flashing her the smallest of smiles.

Teddy didn’t look anywhere near convinced. “Owen’s been in the army since he finished his fellowship. He’s only ever worked at two hospital’s in his life.”

Arizona’s jaw returned to it’s usual locked position as she shook her head; frustrated. She didn’t want to go home. Why couldn’t Teddy just accept that? She had no purpose there.

“Look,” Arizona heard the sound of footsteps walking towards her, but she refused to look up. “I’m just saying that I think you’re going to need more people in your corner than just me, if you’re going to get through this.”

“I think i’ve managed just fine,” Arizona’s voice was void of emotion.

Teddy released a desperate sigh. “Arizona-“

“Owen’s there.”

“Arizona, i’m serious!”

The surgeon’s head snapped up, her angered eyes meeting Teddy’s with unshed tears within them.

“And what? You think I’m not?” The blonde raged. Her cerulean blues piercing Teddy’s hazels, with such an intense fury and pain.

Teddy was visibly taken aback by her friend’s outburst. Since her brother died, she’d gotten used to Arizona’s often outbursts of anger or when unable to hide it, emotional breakdowns. But rarely had she ever witnessed both at the same time, or even more rarely, one with such intensity.

“I haven’t talked to my parents in over a year, Teddy. Nor have they tried or even cared enough to get in touch with me. Ask me how I was doing after T-T-“ Arizona couldn’t finish her sentence. She dropped her head in defeat and let out a heavy breath, clenching her eyes and jaw simultaneously to squelch the onset of tears she could feel rushing to the surface.

Teddy’s gaze shifted to the floor, knowing exactly who her friend was referring to. Arizona never talked about her brother. She hadn’t even said his name since he died. And although she didn’t think it was healthy, she wasn’t about to force Arizona to relive that painful experience she too had been there to witness.

“I know,” Teddy whispered after a few moments of silence had passed.

“I just-I can’t, Teddy. So, please. Just. Come with me to Seattle?” As much as Arizona didn’t want to admit it, she couldn’t do this alone. The pain she knew was in store for her; she needed her best friend.

Teddy looked up at her with a sad smile.

“Well, you didn’t think I was gonna let you go see this Dr. Torres alone, did you, Robbins?”

Trauma and Healing: The End [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/n: Oh man! The final chapter!! I hope you guys enjoy it and I thank you for all the support on this series! PLEASE PAY MIND TO THE WARNINGS.

Warning: Multi-Personality Disorder, Death, Suicide

Tagging: @cherryignacio@queen-of-all-the-fandoms@crazy-fan-girl-with-many-fandoms @aworldwideapart @just-a-girl-maybe @original-colormemeow @sad-horchata @miraisnotavailable @comicbookworm @kazuha159 @ahungrygirl @memento-scribet

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Alternate Ending


Ch. 9

The first thing Jason felt was his head pounding. It felt like his skull would crack open at any second due to the immense pressure within it. Cracking open his eyes he squinted in the dim room. A single spot light hung above him, it being the only illumination of the room. For a moment, he thought he was in one of his nightmares. That the Joker would show up in front of him, dragging a crowbar along the concrete floor.

But no, he was very awake. Not hearing the sound of metal scraping against concrete, just the sound of breathing. Looking next to him, Roy and Kori were tied up beside him on opposite sides of the pillar. “Roy! Kori!” Saying in a harsh whisper, trying to bring consciousness to his friends. He heard Roy groan, shifting his body Jason brought his leg back to nudge him. Roy opened his eyes and looked around. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know, Kori’s still out.” Jason answered. “Do you remember anything?” Looking over at his friend. Roy thought for a moment, “They came up behind me, whoever it was. You?” Jason shook his head, “Only they wore an all black suit except the eyes” remembering the white lenses of the suit. Roy groaned and leaned against the pillar. Jason looked around the room while trying to get Kori to wake up. After a few minutes her eyes fluttered open. She tried melting through her restraints but had no luck.

“It’s cute you thought that would work.” Seven spoke from within the shadows of the ceiling. She’d been there the entire time. “I mean, I did capture you. You think I wouldn’t have the correct restraints?”

Jason and the others looked for the owner of the voice. God, he wishes he had his helmet. Night vision would be great. “Who are you?” Roy called and the sound of her climbing down and her feet hitting the floor could be heard. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She said before a laugh.

“Come into the light you coward!” Kori challenged as they followed the sound of footsteps. The footsteps stopped before Seven stepped into the light. They all stared at the white lenses that covered her eyes. Jason narrowed his eyes at her, “Who are you?” Seven laughed, “‘What am I?’ would be a better question.”

Seven grinned under her mask. “Me, well I go by Seven. And well, I’m the person you love Jason.” Jason stared at the masked person in front of him. Trying to decipher who they were. “No guesses? Well, you three aren’t much fun.”

They watched as she reached up to the top of her mask. Pulling it off as [h/c] hair framed a familiar face.


Seven laughed, “In a way. You see, I’ve been inside [F/n] since the particle accelerator exploded. Since the night that wave of dark matter hit her. You see, I came from a very dark place inside [F/n]. That night, she was planning on killing herself. The mix of drugs and darkness seemed to fuse with the dark matter. Creating her powers which are connected to her emotions, along with me. I’m the embodiment of that darkness. I’m here to protect her from other dark things, from things that might hurt her. So I’ve taken the forefront, and she’s never coming back. I have to do this to protect her from those things. To protect me.” She kneeled in front of Jason, taking his chin between her fingers. “Things, like you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d never hurt her.” Growling back at her, not breaking eye contact. Seven chuckled, “It’s a shame really, she actually loved you.” Jason’s eyes widened when she said that, ‘she loves me’ thinking to himself. “[F/n], please I know you’re in there. I need you to fight.” He begged trying to get through to her.

[F/n] was witnessing this entire thing, trapped in her own mind. ‘Please don’t do this’ She begged Seven, who didn’t pay her any mind. “[F/n], she is weak.” She let go of Jason’s chin, standing and turning around. ‘I am not weak! I can take care of myself, LET ME OUT!’ Her voice rang in her skull, Seven stopped walking. Holding her temple.

“[F/n] come on you’re stronger than her!” Roy yelled next, pulling at his restraints. “You’ve proven how strong you are, fight her!” Kori was next. Jason stared at Seven as she held her head. “[F/n] please, I need you. I… I love you!”

Seven spun around that instant, though it wasn’t Seven who faced them. Those words seemed to trigger something, a warmth inside your soul that was just enough to bring you back. Collapsing on the floor you looked up at Jason. “You love me?” whispering. “[F/n]” Jason smiled, sighing in relief. “God yes. I love you more than anything. I love you more than life itself.” You felt tears prick your eyes as you rushed over, pulling a knife from your belt and cutting Jason & Roy’s restraints and unlocking the special cuffs used for Kori. Immediately Jason stood and wrapped his arms around you. “I was so worried about you. Thank god you’re alright.”

You cried into his soldier, “I did so many awful things, I’m so sorry Jason. I’m so sorry.” He rubbed your back trying to help you calm down. “It’s not your fault, it was Seven. It’s going to be okay.” He began to lead you out of the room, Roy and Kori in front of you both. Kori was checking for anyone in the corridors. While Roy sent out a distress beacon.

As he helped you, thoughts ran through your head. What if you couldn’t control this? What if she comes back? She tries to hurt Roy again? Kori again? Jason again? What if you’re really not strong enough for this? You couldn’t live with yourself if something happened to them.

Looking up at Jason, his eyes were glued on your exit. You took in his features; his blue eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, the white streak decorating the front of his raven black hair. Remembering how it felt to sleep in his arms and how he protected you every second of your life since you met him. How could you put him in this danger? It’s time you protected him.

In a split second you grabbed one of the guns from it’s holster on his thigh. Pushing away from him and pressing the barrel to your temple as your finger rested on the trigger.

“[F/n]! What are you doing?!” He yelled, seeing the tears stream from your eyes. Roy and Kori came running over, “[F/n] put the gun down!” Roy yelled.

“I can’t.” You shook your head. “I can’t put you all in that danger. With Seven, I can’t control her. She’s evil and murderous. I can’t do it, I’m not strong enough.” Sobs broke up your words. Jason shook his head, “No, you can do it. I know you can. [F/n] please put the gun down, I love you. Please, I’m begging you.” His voice trembled, in fear of the finger resting on the trigger. He took a few steps closer to you.

You kept your distance, taking steps back, “Don’t come any closer!” Your hand tightened on the gun, finger still on the trigger. “I’m sorry Jason. I’m doing this because I love you. It’s time I protected you. So, this.. This is goodbye.”

More tears streamed from your eyes. Jason shook his head, tears brimming his cerulean blues. “[F/n], I’m begging you. Please.”

“I love you Jason.”

As soon as the words left your mouth your eyes just tight and your finger pulled the trigger.

“Oh my god no no no!” Jason ran over, catching you before your body met the floor. “[F/n] please! Please wake up!” His hand caressed your hair as tears poured from his eyes.

Kori was clinging to Roy, hiding in his neck as Roy just stared shocked.

Jason pulled you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as he cried into your neck. “Please, don’t leave me. I need you, I love you.” Your body remained limp and lifeless as he continued to sob. Time seemed to stand still as Jason held your lifeless body in his arms.

It not picking up again until footsteps running into the room could be heard. Jason looked up, seeing Bruce running in with Dick, Damian, and Tim on his tail. With Oliver and Dinah running to Roy and Kori. “Oh no” Bruce could be heard mumbling.

Jason looked back down at you.

You. The love of his life.


anonymous asked:

Do you know any good blogs that post about the tenth doctor and rose?? :D

Oh my dear sweet Nonny. Do I ever. ;)

About blogs on this list: 

  • They’ve been friendly/positive to everyone, and/or made positive contributions, and/or have been inclusive or supportive of everyone in the fandom 
  • They have least a couple original content and/or reviews/recs/prompts of original content with the Tenth Doctor and Rose 
  • Note that many of these are also multifandom, general Doctor Who blogs, or mainly focused on other Doctors. Some may keep most or all of their content on other sites like AO3 or deviantart, and some may no longer be active in the DW fandom but still include access to their Ten/Rose content

@acreasy1 ~ @aimtoallonsy ~ @allegoricalrose ~ @allrightfine ~ @anniviech ~ @a-sarah-world@asthewheelwills@atimelordswife ~ @aviculae ~ @badwolfgirl01@badwolfxoncomingstorm ~ @bittyblueeyes ~ @blezon@blueboxarchives ~ @blueboxtraveller ~ @braveten ~ @burningupasun ~ @burntlikethesun ~ @caedmonfaith@cartersreese@cerulean–blues ~ @cherazor ~ @chiaroscuroverse ~ @commandercrouton@cooltennant ~ @cosmic-shine ~ @countessselena ~ @crazyquilt@cryingmanlytears ~ @curiositykilledtheslug ~ @deartimekeeper@definitelytenrose ~ @deathlyfandoms@digrumpycat ~ @dimensionhoppingrose ~ @dirty-bean ~ @doctorandroseanon ~ @doctortenny ~ @dovtorwho@dryadalis ~ @dwficfinder ~ @dwsecretsanta ~

@eighthprincessofheart ~ @emkaywho @excusemewhileiwagmytail ~ @fadewithfury@faithosaurus-fics ~ @fionabasta@flypup ~ @fogsblue ~ @gallifreyburning ~ @gifdoctorwho@gingergallifreyan@greatspacedustbin ~ @halorvic@hanluvr ~ @hardyxrose ~ @hazelcmist@hediru ~  @heartbreakingtennant ~ @hellostarlight20@hermitinthetardis ~ @humansrsuperior@ifheavenllhaveme@jabber-who-key@jaydelahaye@jays-drawings ~ @jem-scribbles@jeeno2 ~ @jellyneau-xo ~ @kaynibbler16 ~ @kelkat9 ~ @khardis@kilodalton ~ @ktrosesworld ~ @ladydiomede ~ @lastincurableromantic@lauraxxtennant ~ @leabharlannkay@lexaism ~ @licieoic ~ @lilydragonwrites@lixabiz ~ @lizann5869@lizzy-lovegood ~ @lostinfic@loup-malin ~ @lvslie ~

@madabouttennant ~ @mariechambers ~ @marvelouswhovianfairytales ~ @mercwithamouth ~ @megabadbunny ~  @mizgnomer ~ @moroiiangel@natural–blues ~ @nerdyten@noyouplum ~ @ofstormsandwolves ~ @onthedriftinthetardis@perfectlyrose ~ @pillie-biper10 ~ @pipertennant@pir8grl@petesworldadventures ~ @promisedyouforever ~ @readingroomrose@rhodesmarceltyler@roseinthevoid ~ @rudennotgingr ~ @rundalek ~ @sapphire-waterfall@skyler10fic ~ @snufflestheanimagus ~  @spookyknight ~ @starsovergallifrey ~ @staypee ~ @stoprobbersfic@studio-forty-two ~ @stupidape ~ @supinternets ~ @tardisbibliothek ~ @tdosf ~ @tenscupcake@tenrose-s ~ @tenroseforeverandever ~ @the-untempered-prism ~ @theartofdoctorwho ~

@thebadwolf@thebadwolf ~ @thebadddestwolf ~ @thebluewolfhowling ~ @thedalektables ~ @thedistortedmirror ~ @thedoctorofsteel@thedoctorxrosetyler ~ @theendofthatsentence@theshippydalek ~ @this-puppy-flies ~ @timeandspacegifs ~ @timelordgifs ~ @time-nebula@timepetals ~ @timepetalsprompts ~ @tinyconfusion ~ @tkross ~ @toppbanana ~ @travelingrose@travelintimeandspace@tripwirealarm ~ @twilightsaphir ~ @valueturtle@veritascara ~ @weeping-who-girl@whatisthepointofyouhardy ~ @whatisyourlefteyebrowdoingdavid ~ @whatwecanfic ~ @whoinwhoville@whovianfloozy ~ @wildwinterwitch ~ @wordsintimeandspace

Do you post original Ten/Rose fanworks such as recs/rec lists, prompts, fanfic, tagfic, headcanons, fan art, photography, graphics, edits, gifsets, etc? Contact me so I can add you to this list ♥  Likewise, if you wish to not be on this list for any reason contact me and I’ll remove your name :)

WHEN THE DRY SEASON ENDS | Chapter 1: Holding Hands
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Her nails dig into his shoulders, loosening a few shimmery scales that are now clinging to her fingers like a second skin. The water around them is alive with the cerulean blues, sunflower yellows and rosy pinks, and in turn she’s alive in it as well.

of ribbons & rosin ( cs au )

Plot: Killian is a single father, and his daughter is enrolled in Emma’s dance class. He has nobody to watch his daughter after class, and he’s often late, so Emma usually sits and talks to the girl until she is collected from the dance school.

Chapter 7, Captain Swan AU, Rating E.

read it on a03

Several weeks had passed since their date night, and their contact had been less than frequent, much to each other’s dismay. Killian’s workload had picked up considerably at the office while his supervisor was taking a sabbatical, he had stepped forward and taken on the responsibilities, and Emma had taken on another job at the local gym, running a Baby Bounce class, mainly for first-time moms, but there were the occasional frazzled moms of multiple children. Emma needed the extra cash for the upcoming impulsive buys she was going to make, in addition to the larger purchases she had made, to better her lifestyle; larger, more comfortable bed with orthopedic guarantees, new flat screen television, new dance supplies.

When Emma had found the note Killian had left on her kitchen counter, then subsequently found him standing in her kitchen with the coffee he’d promised he had been retrieving, she had cherished it, locking it away for safe-keeping. Communication between them, however, had slowed. They still messaged each other though, sending virtual flirtations via cell phone. Their latest had gotten quite heated, between the business meetings, conferences, and babies.

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For @kittenofdoomage Summer Loving Challenge. I had reading. Turned fluffy instead of smutty.

Originally posted by frozen-delight

You had a secret.

The smell of old books, new books, ancient lore tomes and scrolls, sent the tingles up and down your spine. The warmth would settle in your core, throbbing sensations would disrupt you from research, and when Sam would catch your eye over the latest research, your face flushed with a heat of a thousand suns.

And he knew your secret. Because he held onto the same one. You both were what others considered bibliophiles.  A person who collects or has a great love for books.  Sam wasn’t just attracted to books, he was lured in by smarts, wanderlust, a girl who could travel without leaving the confines of the bunker.

He was enamored by you; by your adventures in wonderland, the way you nose crinkled at the morose parts of a story, how your eyes sparkled at the mischief, how you’d spend hours in another world and appear sullen when the real life would come calling.

Originally posted by blackewhitelover

Reading was your getaway.  Uncharted seas, you read Tolkien, Keats, Frost, and other greats.  On the side, Sam would tackle how-to’s, self-help, and fantasy.  You’d both be classified under bibliophilia.  Sounds dirty, but it’s just the opposite. Books were and still are considered pure escapism.  Purity in its written form.  The way the written word could cleans you of the everyday grime of a hunt, that was why you loved to read.

It’s why the library in the bunker is where you found yourself that evening.  The latest hunt left you wanton.  The scalding shower left your bloodied and bruised body raw.   Still, you needed more.  You desired sanctuary, respite, you long for long strings of words to rid your mind of anxiety.  You were engulfed in Frost’s most compelling work of art, wandering the lonely, barren, wooded trail, imagining how life would be if you were a solo hunter, when a warm presence intruded your thoughts.

Originally posted by electraheart94

“Frost, again?”  Sam used his library voice, deep, husky, and a bit sultry.  He knew when you read the poet’s works it had to have been a harrowing hunt.  Same had stayed back while you and Dean went to take on a rather run of the mill salt and burn.  However, one child’s ghost, multiplied into unsuspecting triplets, and you had been tossed like a mere doll into a sycamore tree.

“Freakin’ triplets of the Crypt Keeper,” you referenced, shuddering at the memory of their gruesome features.

Sam noticed how you were sitting, propped up with pillows and surrounded by books, scattered in an arch around your feet, 

“They hurt you?” he inquired with a somber voice.

You raised the back of your t-shirt to reveal a myriad of amethysts and ceruleans blues forming like shooting starbursts.  Sam gently traced one causing goosebumps to form on your delicate exposed skin.  He traced them for awhile before he spoke again,

“I hate seeing you hurt, YNN.”

You tsked, “I hate getting hurt, Sammy, but it’s all part of the job, right?”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Sam gave you a half smile, fixing your shirt and pulling you into his side, placing a chaste kiss on top of your messy, YHC, hair.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t come back from a hunt.”  The silence spoke volumes.

“Ditto,” you nudged him in the ribs.

He pushed on, “I care way too much about you to ever let that happen, you know that, right, YNN?”

Originally posted by inssolente

You looked up from beneath your long lashes and nodded in concurrence, “I know you’d do anything and everything for me, and I love ya for that, I do.”

Sam fidgeted, “Uh, well, um, yeah, that’s what I’m trying and failing to say,” he ruffled his hair in frustration.

“So just say it,” you egged him on, entwining your fingers with his.

He picked up Frost and searched the pages until he cleared his throat, “A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”

Replying with Bronte almost immediately, the words falling from your tongue, “Whatever his soul is made of, his and mine are the same.”

“Truly?” Sam questioned you.

“I love you Sam, more than Frost or Bronte could ever put into words, I love you more than books themselves.”

“You love me more than books?” he exasperated.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Winchester,” you inched closer to him, eyeing his lips and he met you in the middle.  Plump lips kissing your eager ones.

Quoting again, once he pulled back from the kiss, knowing you’d melt, “I love the shape of your lips and how they fit so perfectly with the shape of mine.”

Tags: @jodyri @hiddenwritingsintheworld @klizbeth @kaz2y5-imagines @fingersinsamshair @kittenofdoomage @teamfreewill-imagine @one-shots-supernatural @d-s-winchester @the-mrs-deanwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @salvachester @bovaria @aprofoundbondwithdean @plaidandwhiskeydean @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @spnashley @theerinpage @kayteonline @rizlow1 @mrsjohnsmith @galaxystiel @castihelloboys @castielspahdehrah @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deansgirlimpala67 @sammit-janet @iwantthedean @holywaterbucketchallenge @holyimpala67 


Essa Trevelyan:

Okay so first I had no idea I have so many amazing pictures of Essa. These are my top ten favorites but I have more favorites, tumblr just wouldn’t let me upload more lol Quick mention before I get into Essa: a huge thanks to @rayeliann, @cerulean–blues@szajnie, @captainceranna, Nop, @cobaltash and @fanfoolishness for their amazing work. You have, each in your own ways, captured Essa perfectly. 

I’ve been writing Essa for two and a half years now. In canon and multiple AUs and I cannot believe I’d never made a character post for her until I realized I needed one of @dragonageaspecweek! (check that out! they’re doing great stuff this week!)

Essa has been in several works, (mostly) canon and au, all long fics (some really long lol but all complete). There are always some differences between stories, as our lives shape us as surely as our natures, and Essa is a bit different in each, but in every incarnation she is a mage who came into her powers late, after training her entire life as a warrior. She’s a demisexual and on the autism spectrum and she suffered childhood neglect and trauma (she’d admit more to the latter than the former). Also, she wouldn’t necessarily use the labels we do, and they aren’t words that are used in my fic (largely because they’re anachronistic) but as these are my own identifiers, I feel comfortable in giving them to Es. She was certainly written that way.

More on Essa and her fic below the cut because with all my pics this turned into a long post?

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insight into misty’s anger problem

IF you can call it an anger problem.

This is less of a headcanon and more of a thought I’ve been mulling for ages and ages. But yes, either way, it’s still long and rambly. Lol. Saddle up, kids, this post is gonna go on forever.

Misty was not very close with her sisters before leaving home. We see this in The Water Flowers of Cerulean City and The Misty Mermaid and even a bit in Gotta Catch Ya Later, as well as in flashbacks from Princess Vs Princess and Cerulean Blues, but yeah. It wasn’t like it was abuse or neglect or anything but… there was a bridge, a gap, a wall, that had clearly been placed there.

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Betrayal At Its Best PT. O N E

Hot off the market, delicious, smutty, and amazing. Thank you so very much, Harryfordrarryrpjohnjohnlock. You were brilliant and I had so much fun rping with you. You’re an absolute doll and I’d love to kiss your cheeks and feed you pastries. Can’t wait to continue!

there will be a part two. don’t you worry, dears.

Stranger: (Johnlock, Vampire!John) Everything had been fine. Sherlock had no clue what was going on around him. With his experiments, Sherlock never noticed what went on around him, and that the entire time he had been a vampire. That was, until one day, Sherlock was supposed to be out the entire day on a wild goose chase he sent him on, and instead he found him, feeding. Sherlock just hadn’t left him alone, always bothering him. So he had to bring the feed here. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a lair-ish place, he did, in Baker Street 221c. Sherlock didn’t know. And when he saw him feeding, he thought Sherlock would be interested. But no. He ran. Giving him a head start, John laughed darkly before he chased after him, until Sherlock was going out. He drove him into a wood-ish forest area, before he pinned him onto the ground. “If you wanted to escape, you should have ran faster.” John laughed, holding him tight, his tongue running over his lips, over his fangs. (Please reply as Sherlock.)

You: What crossed his mind in moment of seeing the actual feeding and then deciding to run was… He wasn’t sure what it was. He just knew that he had needed to get out. To get safe and find somewhere to /think/. Not that he thought John would hurt him-it was John. John wouldn’t hurt /him/-others, perhaps-but not /him/. How wrong he’d been when he realized he was being followed. /Herded/ seemed like the proper term given the fact that the man was urging him somewhere. He thought, /foolishly/, that perhaps the man was just establishing a spot for them to talk it through. Somewhere private. How /idiotic/ could he be? It was over the moment he took true notice to where he’d been led, the trees closing in around him like a wooden cage. Then he was done. The brunet hissed, arching his back and moving to push John off with his hips to tip their balance and get a rolling motion. It didn’t work, and the panic flared more within the pit of his churning gut. “John-” he cut off, eyes widening at the sight of pink against pointy pearly white. His pulse rocketed, pounding feverishly within his ears. His struggling growing anew. “Off. Get /off/.”

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valentine’s prompt #2


2,500 wc anniversary fic

Thor did not know what to expect upon entering an arranged marriage, but he thought conversation at least would be part of it. Yet in the privacy of their shared quarters Loki remained most entirely self-contained, lost in a world of their own making.

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When you look at the scene when Ash realizes that Misty and him have to part ways, you notice how different Ash’s body language is compared to the other times his friends announced that they had to leave. Subsequent moments between his other friends were moments of mutual separations. There were moments of solemness but in general, Ash accepted his friends’ departures and was happy for their motivations and reasons.

Which is why it’s so striking when compared to Misty’s departure. The central crux of the episode was that Misty was saddened that Ash wouldn’t be emotionally affected by her departure. Ash is initially shown to be glad that Misty’s bike is fixed, his attempt at expressing graciousness for what he saw as a positive development for Misty, which ironically results in her being upset. However, after the moment where Ash and Misty praise each other once they defeat the Invincible Pokemon Brothers, Ash gets an almost uncharacteristic strike of seriousness. His face sours. He motions to Misty’s bike with displeasure. In contrast to his earlier attitude, he says with discomfort, “There’s your bike,” almost unsure of how to continue the painful inevitability. 

Ash is now showing resistance to the fact that Misty has to leave. His happiness he showed for Misty at the Pokemon Center wasn’t the whole story; his happiness was expressed out of courtesy for a friend and actually dissembled his real feelings. So in fact, this separation is unique in that both Ash and Misty were the only characters both not mutually happy about what was transpiring. Which tells you a lot about how special Ash and Misty’s relationship is intended to be. 

Gotta Catch You Later was written by Hideki Sonoda who had also written Misty Meets Her Match. He would later write the first Misty special for Pokemon Chronicles, Cerulean Blues. In Misty Meets Her Match, Misty makes the painful decision to commit herself to Ash over Rudy, a decision point that could have lead to her a departure if Misty wasn’t staying true to her heart. So perhaps it’s fitting that Sonoda would be the screenwriter to pen her actual departure, illustrating and exploring the reciprocity of Ash and Misty’s relationship and the effects of involuntary departure on the heart as opposed voluntary departure. It seems to come full circle as he finishes Misty’s arc in Cerulean Blues. As Misty finds security in her gym, she also finds security in her thoughts of Ash. Departed or not, Misty’s commitment to Ash maintains its resolve.