fate brings what is not asked for

les mis + lemony snicket quotes

Jean Valjean: Sometimes even in the most unfortunate of lives there will occur a moment or two of good fortune.
Javert: It is very annoying to be proven wrong, particularly when you are really right and the person who is really wrong is the one who is proving you wrong and proving himself, wrongly, right. Right?
Fantine: Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant, filled with odd waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don’t always like.
Marius: Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess.
Cosette: One cannot spend forever sitting and solving the mysteries of one’s history.
Enjolras: No reality has the power to dispel a dream.
Combeferre: Arguing with somebody is never pleasant, but sometimes it is useful and necessary to do so.
Courfeyrac: I’m sure you have heard it said that appearance does not matter so much, and that it is what what’s on the inside that counts. This is, of course, utter nonsense, because if it were true then people who were good on the inside would never have to comb their hair or take a bath, and the whole world would smell even worse than it already does.
Jehan: If you have ever found yourself sitting in the darkness with a flashlight, you may have experienced the feeling that something is lurking just beyond the circle of light that a flashlight makes, and reading poem about dead men is not a good way to make yourself feel better.
Feuilly: All the secrets of the world are contained in books. Read at your own risk.
Joly: If you are allergic to a thing, it is best not to put that thing in your mouth, particularly if the thing is cats.
Bossuet: If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say in a pleasant and hopeful voice, “Well this isn’t too bad, I don’t have a left arm anymore, but at least nobody will ever ask me if I’m left-handed or right-handed,” but most of us would say something more along the lines of, “Aaaaah! My arm! My arm!
Bahorel: Just because something is traditional is no reason to do it, of course.
Grantaire: Perhaps if we saw what was ahead of us, and glimpsed the follies, and misfortunes that would befall us later on, we would all stay in our mother’s wombs, and then there would be nobody in the world but a great number of very fat, very irritated women.

bonus: Victor Hugo: In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.

Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.


Keep reading

  • What she said: "I'm fine."
  • What she really meant: "my favorite band was near me and I could've went but I didn't get tickets in time and plus they are so expensive and no one will go with me so now I'm at home watching videos of them thinking that I could have seen them preform this live but no really I'm fine I'm not crying what are you talking about and this isn't a run on sentence it's a Fall Out Boy title by Panic! At the Disco."
Vex and Percy’s E87 Talk, transcribed

Since I know some people want this - Vex and Percy talk about Percy’s first experience with death, Vex’s words during the ritual, and some of Percy’s fears.

Vex: So, Percy.
Percy: Yes, dear?
Vex: I’ve been meaning to bring something up to you…
Percy: Yes.
Vex: Um… at the risk of bringing Scanlan up again… something I’d rather ignore
Percy: Yes, me too.
Vex: When he left, he said something that caught my ear, which was that he heard. He heard Pike and his daughter calling to him on the other side.
Percy: Yes.
Vex: Which is strange, really, because when I was on the other side I don’t remember hearing anything. What about you?
Percy: Um, okay.

Taliesin: I’m going to sit down and open up a bottle.
Laura: Busting out the Courage again?
Taliesin: The Courage, I think, is long gone at this point, I’m going for the Tear Whiskey, fuck it. Um, take a swig, and I pass.

Keep reading

For Your Love || Jeff Atkins x Asexual!Reader

I’m glad you asked, because I’ve seen a few imagines with asexual readers and I noticed a repeat of something that really bothered me. Always by the end, they were magically cured by ‘the one’. Like, no. If that’s someone’s sexual orientation, or lack thereof, they’re not going to change it for one person. If people truly desire our asexual cupcakes, they’re not going to constantly be trying to convert them.

Word Count: 1,174

Warnings: Mild Bullying, Sexual Dialogues


    You had thought your relationship was going well. Marcus Cole, straight-A student and President of the Honor Board, was what most would consider a perfect gentleman. He would hold open doors for you, carry around your bags; basically, treat you like you always thought guys should treat their girlfriends. But it was on the night of the back-to-school Winter Formal that you saw him for who he truly was.

    The two of you had just taken a break from dancing to go grab some punch. Upon hearing from Montgomery that it’d been spiked, you stuck to grabbing a soda, watching Marcus pick through the large platters of snacks with a frown.

    “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asked, nodding towards the door. “We could go back to my place and hang.”

    “Are you not having a good time?“ you responded.

    He shot you that that sly smirk, never failing to melt your heart. "I just thought maybe we could have a little bit more if we were alone.”

    The smile that had begun to itch across your face faded quickly, replaced by a concern that furrowed your brows and forced you to cast your eyes downward. “Can’t we stay longer? I wanted to ask Tony if he could get some slow songs playing.”

    You felt Marcus’s hands slide around your hips, drawing you against his chest—what might have been comforting under normal circumstances, but now it just served to make your stomach twist with nerves. “Come on, Y/N. You know you can trust me.” He leaned down, teeth nipping at your ear. “I’ll be gentle.”

    You shoved your hands against his chest, scrambling backwards a few feet. “Wait! I really need to tell you something.”

    “What?” he asked, sounding, and looking, pretty offended.

    “I’m asexual,” you said quickly. “It’s not like I don’t like you, I really do. It’s just… I don’t enjoy sex like that.”

    He seemed taken aback for a moment, before finally clearing his throat to speak. “So you don’t think we’d be having sex any time in the nearby future?”

    “I’d rather if we didn’t,” you replied, feeling as if your chest was rattling with broken glass. “We could still have a good relationship together.”

    “Look, Y/N,” he began. “You’re a gorgeous girl. I mean, every guy in this school wants you, and plenty hate me for being the one you chose. I just don’t think you’re ever going to find someone who’ll keep you if you keep holding out like this.”

    You stared at him in shock. “Wh-what?”

    He patted your shoulder, shaking his head sadly. “This just isn’t going to work out between us. When you get over this phase, or whatever this is, call me, okay?”

    “What the hell, Marcus?” you asked, voice raising. “Did you only start dating me to get in my pants?”

    Heads had turned from the crowd, people poking other people in the sides to draw their attention over. Marcus had turned a light red, glaring down at you for calling him out in front of everyone.

    “Like you didn’t start dating me just to get brownie points towards your school record,” he snapped.

    “I started dating you because I thought you were the one person who would understand that there are more important things than sex!” you cried.

    “You’re just a prude freak,” he replied, his voice breaking with anger.

    A few of his friends, who had grouped together near the front of the crowd, snickered quietly. One punched Marcus on the shoulder, telling him to let it go. Another claiming that he had something that could open up those legs.

    You felt tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, their words squeezing around your neck like a tightly knotted rope. You tore through them, racing out of the gym and down the hall. You didn’t stop until you had pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom and collapsed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest and wetness streaming down your cheeks.

    To think you had once told yourself you loved him.

    Barely a few minutes had dragged by when you heard the door creak open. You looked up, surprised to see the tall, broad figure of Jeff Atkins slipping inside. His hair was moused into a swoopy, black wave, white tuxedo crisp and perfectly tailored.

    “Can I come in?” he asked.

    You shrugged. “I guess. If you want to hang out with a prude freak.”

    “Fuck Marcus,” he said. “You’re not prude, and you’re definitely not a freak. Last time I checked, you were just Y/N, and that’s fine with me.”

    He moved to sit down next to you. At closer glance, you could see he had replaced his normal white studs with a pair of snowflakes. You laughed, making him turn his head to smile at you.

    “What’s up with the earrings?” you asked.

    “I’m being festive,” he replied, motioning at the matching pattern on the hem of your dress. “And twinning with you, apparently.”

    “Looks like fate wanted us to meet each other in this bathroom,” you said with a soft sigh. “You don’t have to waste your night with me, you know.”

    “Assuming that any of my time spent with you is wasted.” He placed his hand over yours, bringing it into his lap. “My night is already ten times better.”

    You brushed away a stray tear, trying to pull away. “We won’t work out. It never does.”

    “Why?” he asked, tightening his grip. “You’re an asexual. So what? That’s not something that matters to me.”

    “You say that now, but imagine if we somehow managed to make it out of high school. Years from now. I’m not opposed to the idea of sex some time in a long term relationship, but I’m not going to be able to be sexually attracted to you. Are you willing to live your life like that?” you responded.

    You could tell by the expression on his face that he was seriously considering this. You were just bracing yourself for him to stand up and walk out when he gave a nod.


    “Jeff, are you sure?” You turned to face him, sitting back on your heels. “This isn’t a joke.”

    He nodded again. “Yes. I am one hundred percent positive. I’m not sure if this is a little too early or not, but I think I’m in love with you.”

    You laughed. “What?”

    “No, I’m serious,” he replied, lunging forwards to scoop you into his arms. He pulled you in for a hug, resting his head on your shoulder in a maternal kind of way. “I was pissed when you started dating Marcus. Ask Clay. He’s the one who watched me purposely tear book pages every time I had to turn them.”

    You felt yourself relaxing against him. “Wow, okay.  That’s certainly something.”

    He gave a low chuckle. “Do you want to go back to the dance?”

    “Yeah,” you whispered.

    For once, you had a feeling your relationship actually was going to work out.

For A Reason (Lafayette x Reader)

Requested By: Anonymous

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you go out with your best friends the Schuyler Sisters. See what happens when a certain Frenchman catches your eye.

Warnings: None, I don’t think.

Time Period: Modern

Words: 1330

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!! I hope you are all having an amazing day because each and everyone of you guys are beautiful and deserve the best!!! Anyway, I’m sorry this story isn’t the greatest, but hey it’s Valentine’s Day. Enjoy, send in any requests you have, and have a great day!

You strongly believed in the idea that everything happened for a reason. People chose certain professions for a reason, people made certain choices for a reason, and people loved certain people for a reason.

When your friends had texted asking if you wanted to go out on Valentine’s Day to celebrate being single, you accepted; for a reason. That evening, you put on a (y/f/c) dress that made you feel on top of the world, with matching heels. After curling your hair and perfecting your makeup, you were ready to hit the bar.

Your friends Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy and come to drive you to the bar where you would be spending your evening. Once you reached your destination, you grabbed a couple of drinks and a table. Smiling all around, each of you raised your glasses and took a sip.

“Who needs a boyfriend?” you asked. “We are strong, independent, badass women who can be just as happy single as we would be if we were in relationships.” you declared, taking another sip of your drink.

“Amen!” Peggy agreed.

“You’re right girl.” Angelica added.

“Preach!” Eliza finished, giggling.

As the night wore on, you, Angelica, Peggy, and Eliza had a few more drinks, danced quite a bit, and flirted with some guys. The entire time, one man in particular had caught your eye. He had curly hair, kind eyes, and a handsome face.

The stranger was with a group of 3 other men. Unfortunately, you were not brave enough to walk over to them and talk to the curly haired man. Each time you glanced his way, one of your friends tried to encourage you to talk to him.

“No.” you told them. “What happened to our whole agreement that we are better off single?” you asked, reminding them of the start of the night.

Peggy rolled her eyes and rested a hand on your shoulder. “That can be true sometimes, (y/n), but if you find a guy you like you need to go after him.” she encouraged.

“You guys know I believe everything happens for a reason. So if we are meant to be fate will bring us together.” you tried to reason with them.

The night was winding down and you knew it would be time to head home soon. Deciding to get one last drink, you went to the bar to order it. On your way back, your head was down as you stared at the little screen of your phone. Before you could look up, you collided with a tall, warm figure.

You groaned as your drink spilled on your dress a bit, but you looked up to see what you hit. Eyes up, you took a breath, noticing it was the handsome stranger from earlier.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Miss.” he apologized, handing you some napkins in attempt to fix the accident.

Although you couldn’t speak, you accepted the napkins and dabbed at the stain on your dress. When you realized the man was still there, you gathered your courage to speak.

“Please don’t worry about, it was my fault anyway.” you told him, smiling softly.

He smiled back and saw that you had lost all of your drink. “Well either way, please let me buy you a new drink.” he offered.

You gave him a sly look and gained some confidence. “I thought I was always told to not accept drinks from strangers at the bar, especially when I don’t know their name.” you retorted, laughing lightly.

The man laughed once he realized you were joking. “My name is Gilbert du Motier, but most people call me Lafayette.” he introduced, sticking his hand out.

Accepting his hand, you shook it and introduced yourself. “It’s nice to meet you, Lafayette, I am (y/n). And I will take you up on your offer for that drink.”

After Lafayette bought you a drink, the two of you headed to a booth in the back. You ended up just talking and talking about your lives for almost an hour. At one point he was laughing so hard that part of his drink sloshed out of his cup, onto your leg, again.

“Je suis vraiment désolé!” he spoke as he worked quickly to clean up the spilt liquid.

“C'est bon, ne vous inquiétez pas.” you reassured him, waving it off.

Lafayette stopped what he was doing and stared at you, incredulously, but had a huge grin on his face. “You-you speak French?” he stammered, amazed.

You nodded shyly and answered. “Oui, I took it all throughout high school and college.” you admitted.

“C'est incroyable!” he complimented.

A silence settled between the two of you, but it was awkward. You both gazed at each other, not saying a word or moving a muscle. That was until Lafayette started to lean towards you until he captured your lips with his.

Meanwhile, your friends had been wondering where you wondered off to. They knew you were still at the bar because they were your ride home, but you weren’t answering your phone.

During the time they spent looking for you, Eliza started talking to a man named Alexander Hamilton. Coincidently, he and his group of friends were looking for their other friend, Lafayette.

“Does he have dark, curly hair?” Angelica asked, putting two and two together.

“Yes.” the man named Hercules answered.

John piped up next. “Have you seen him?”

“Well our friend, (y/n), has been interested in him all night.” Peggy remarked, while sending a few flirty glances John’s way.

“Well, let’s go find them.” Eliza stated with a smile.

It didn’t take long, but eventually Alexander, Eliza, Peggy, John, Hercules, and Angelica finally found you and Lafayette. You were still at your booth in the back, but this time you were full on making out.

Your one arm was wrapped in Lafayette’s hair and the other was around his neck. His one arm was on your waist, drawing you flush against his chest, while the other was tangled in your hair.

The two of you were oblivious to the fact that there were now six people watching you, until you heard a deep voice clear their throat. Pulling away, your cheeks turned red when you saw your best friends glancing down on your with smirks on their faces.

“Get some, (y/n).” they laughed, while you buried your face further into your hands.

At the same time, Lafayette’s friends were poking fun at him, until the shorter man with dark hair spoke up. “So, uh, what was going here?” he asked, laughing because he was fully aware of what was happening.

The Schuyler Sisters crossed their arms and looked at you, the same question on their faces.

“Umm, he had-” you began, but you were cut off.

“It was an accident!” Lafayette shouted and you hit his chest.

“Did you really think they were going to fall for ‘It was an accident’?” you mocked, leaning into his chest.

In front of you, each person was laughing their heads off, clutching onto their sides. When they calmed down, Angelica grabbed your arm and spoke. ‘Sorry to break this up, but we have to head out down.” she let you know.

You nodded, but had a small frown on your face. “Enchanté.” you told Lafayette and got up to leave, but before you could, he handed you his phone.

“If you want you to, you can put your number in and I’ll text you.” he offered, looking a bit embarrassed. You nodded rather hurriedly and typed in your number.

With one last kiss, you gathered your things and left with your girls. All they teased you the whole ride back, you smiled and thought about your evening.

Everything had happened for a reason. You had agreed to go out instead of throwing yourself a pity party, you had ran into Lafayette for a reason, and you had given him your number for a reason.

Best Valentine’s Day ever!

The fight (part 3) // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Y/n crashes into Shawn after not seeing him for 9 months

Authors note: So this is part 3, the last part, hope you like it as much as I do :)

One quick trip over someones foot was all it took for my chocolate chip muffin to go falling to the floor. I freeze, watching it splatter, feeling my mood fall just like my chocolate treat.

“Great,” I mumble, picking the muffin by the wrapper and putting it back in the bag it came in. 

“I’m sorry I tripped you Y/n,” a voice speaks, pulling my back to reality. My head snaps up to the face, knowing that voice in a heartbeat.

“Shawn,” I stammer, my heart thudding as I realise he’s standing right in front of me, looking just as good as the last time I saw him which was the day we broke up. He’s been on tour for the past 9 or so months, the music and fans being a capable distraction from our broken relationship- or that’s what I thought.

“I can buy you a new muffin, I know you like them,” Shawn comments, smiling gently.

“Um,” I look away, still in disbelief that the man I’ve been longing for since he broke up with me was right there. He gives me a hopeful look.

“Please,” He pouts slightly, my eyes drawn to his puffed out lip.

“Sure,” I say, immediately regretting the decision straight away, knowing it will just end up in pain for me.

“Awesome,” he smiles brightly, turning back to the bakery door I had just came out from and holding the door open for me.

“I’ll go get you a muffin while you find a seat,” Shawn says, nudging me to the seated area and I move my legs even though they feel like they’re stuck in concrete.

I sit down, having chosen the table in the corner, against the window, admiring the street outside and the cars driving by quickly.

“One chocolate muffin for the lady,” Shawn says teasingly, placing the heated item in front of me before taking a seat across from me. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning back in the chair and his eyes stay glued to me.

I cut the muffin open, taking a bite. My eyes slide over to meet Shawn’s and I shyly offer him a piece. Slowly he leans over, taking a piece and chewing it, eyes never leaving my glance.

“Can I just say, you two are the cutest couple I have ever seen,” I look up at the sound to see an older lady, probably 50 or so, her hands clasped together in delight.

“We-” I go to say but Shawn cuts me off.

“Thank you, it means a lot to us,” he grins at her and she pats his shoulder before turning away.

“Shawn.” I growl, glaring sharply at him. “We aren’t together anymore? Remember? In fact you broke it off, right over on that table just there to be precise,” I point behind me, not wanting to look back and relive one of the worst moments in my life.

“I know I did. I also know that it was the worst decision of my life.” He says, remorse filtering through his eyes.

“Sure,” I snort, taking another bite of my food.

“Please, Y/n believe me. I had a reason for doing what I did,” He looks pained, eyes searching mine, willing for me to understand- understand something, I don’t know what.

“And what reason was that Shawn, You told me you didn’t want me.” I gulp, tears threatening to fall but I blink them away.

“I swear upon my life, there is nothing I want more than you. Breaking up was the stupidest decision of my life. I had to do it though,” he reaches out his hand to rest it on mine but I jerk it back as soon as I hear that.

“Excuse me?” I ask, drawing back from him.

“They told me that our relationship wasn’t good for my career, because I was dating someone, I wasn’t selling as much as I could. I didn’t care about how much money I made, I care about the music- and you,” he holds my gaze, his dark eyes staring into mine.

“So when I said I couldn’t do that to our relationship they made me work longer hours to produce more music for the fans. I didn’t realise then that it would have to end up sacrificing my relationship for a few extra hours. I knew I was hurting you, I could see it in your face, the tours, the long hours,”

I nod slowly at his words, finally being able to listen to him talk about his side of the story, understanding the hurt he was talking about.

“Then the year long tour came and I decided to do what I thought was best for you,”

“And that was breaking it off with me?” I ask, putting my hand on top of his.

He looks at me gratefully, “I was stupid, I thought I was making a correct decision and that you deserved someone who would actually have time for you or had people telling me to break up with you,” he grips my hand back tightly.

“Shawn,” I mumble, stroking his thumb softly. “You should have talked to me,”

“I know, but I feel like this was meant to happen? Us separating for the moment I mean. I’ve grown a lot over these past couple of months from tour and I feel that through that, our relationship will be stronger then before,”

“You think?” I ask softly.

“I never even thought of someone else after we parted, I couldn’t, I was too caught up on you, even now. This was fate Y/n- you and me running into each other today,”  He looks so sure that I couldn’t help but believe him.

“If I said I wanted to give us another shot-” I begin.

“I will do anything for you to give me another chance,” Shawn says, bringing my hand up to his lips as he kisses my knuckles softy.

“You have to promise to talk to me okay? and I want to start fresh, clean slate,” I ask, worry filling my eyes.

“I promise I will, If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” He says grinning at me, happiness shinning in his smile.

“Then lets give us another go,” I confirm, my nerves about our rekindled relationship seeming to fly out the window at his effort to give us a try.

“Thank you Y/n, so much,” Shawn says softly.

“I want to try again,” I reply, going to reach for the last piece of muffin to realise its gone. I look up at Shawn to see him stuffing the last piece in his mouth.


Twelve Olympians Spread

I was playing around with my deck today and came up with this… Sharing it to see if anyone else finds it useful. The Twelve Olympians each represent an important factor in your personal life. Using twelve cards, one for each Olympian, you can get a detailed reading with this spread.

Card 1: Hestia. In Hellenismos, Hestia is honored first and last, as the oldest and youngest child of Kronos, and is introduced first here. Hestia’s domain is the home and this card queries the Goddess and asks what is coming in terms of your home life.

Card 2: Zeus. As the primary male figure in Hellenismos, Zeus here stands for your relationships with men and what may be coming with male figures in your life. This could be anyone from a father to a lover.

Card 3: Hera. As her brother-husband stands for the men in your life, so does the Queen of the Gods stand for the women in your life. What is in your future with women? Hera will let you know.

Card 4: Demeter. Demeter here stands for your material gains and your earthly wealth. Anything for which you work hard to gain, that is what Demeter will reveal to you.

Card 5: Poseidon. The Sea God’s card pulls on the constant generation that the sea, the source of almost all life, allows. This card is about what is growing from the source in your life, and what is going to manifest itself in your life as a new thing. This is the unknown becoming known.

Card 6: Artemis. The card of Artemis is a mystery being revealed to you. Something that you have been hunting and wondering about is made clear with this card. Differing from Poseidon, this is something known becoming familiar.

Card 7: Apollon. Apollon Παιαν, the Healer, gives you information about health with this card. If there are no concerns in your own life, the Healing God may help others through you.

Card 8: Athena. Wise Athena speaks of knowledge and understanding of the world of book-learning. Her sage counsel advises you with wisdom that you need for whatever situation you approach.

Card 9: Hermes. The Messenger God stands for all money matters. Be it related to a job, money you already have, or a random lotto victory, the Trickster’s Guardian gives you advice on how to deal with your fiscal life.

Card 10: Aphrodite. Here, the Goddess of Love stands for all romantic relationships. The future and fate of your romantic life is revealed at Aphrodite’s whim.

Card 11: Hephaistos. The Crafting God of the Glowing Forge, Hephaistos tells you what you can make in your life. Not content to sit back and let things come to him, the Sooty One brings his dreams to life. What will you find that you can bring to life as well?

Card 12: Ares. The God of War asks you to look at any conflicts you have in your life, be it with yourself or with another person. How can these conflicts be resolved for the betterment of all involved? Ares gives you advice on this matter.

Feedback on any use of this spread would be wonderful! May the Gods bless your endeavors!

Hair Dye

Scenario: I hope you don’t dye your hair anymore because I really like this shade in my eyes and wow okay here you go again.

Pairing: Yoongi + Reader

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate AU (in which your eyes change colors when your soulmate dyes their hair)

Word Count: 2,058

Author’s Note: This is my first BTS scenario. I told myself I wasn’t going to do this again, because I used to write on Wattpad for 1D, but here I am. Inspired by one of the many ideas on here. I hope you enjoy it ♡


You noticed your eyes shift colors for the first time four years ago. You were brushing your teeth when you saw it happen in a matter of seconds. Looking closer in the mirror, your natural color was gone, and a light brown had replaced it.

You ran out to where your parents were, tears streaming down your face. You thought you were losing your mind and wanted to know what was happening.

With a chuckle, your father pulled you onto the cushion next to him on the couch while your mother sat on the other side of you.

That was when you learned about soulmates.

Although it doesn’t happen to everyone, your eye color changes whenever your soulmate dyes their hair. Once their hair fades back to the natural color, so would your eyes. Usually, people dye their hair a crazy color to find their soulmate easier, while others would rather wait and see if they can find their soulmate without any help.

Your parents realized they were soulmates a year after they met. They were in love, but weren’t sure if they were with the right person. So, they went down to a corner store to buy cheap hair dye and went back to their apartment. They dyed each other’s hair and watched as both of their eyes changed colors.

Your tears dried up after realizing that this was happening to you.

To say you were relieved would be an understatement. You were happy to know that your soulmate was alive and thriving, but most of all, you were glad they decided to go with a natural color.

You spoke too soon.

Keep reading

a little above the surface (chapter 1/?) (M)

Genre: angst, romance, smut
Rating: M
Warnings: swearing, sex, alcohol, a lot of flashbacks
Pairing: rockstar!namjoon x violinist!reader
Summary: As far as you were concerned, ex-violinists and highly-acclaimed rock stars weren’t supposed to mix, especially when a certain purple-haired rock star was supposed to just remain in your past.
Word Count: 9.8k
a/n: slightly inspired by uncontrollably fond, but the plot is different. shoutout to @sugarmints for the encouragement hihi 
chapter 2 (preview)

Fate has its way of bringing you back to where you’re meant to be in.

Or so, what they say. People say that when you’re meant to be somewhere, life thrusts you into that direction, even if you’re stubbornly against the idea. Even if you completely resisted from it, fate would disrupt your plans to make you give in, no matter what loss you’ll have to end up suffering with in the end. After all, that was the price to pay if you didn’t go along with fate’s plans.

“Miss, am I playing it correctly?”

Your student asked you, disrupting you from your thoughts. She was a high school student who was in her first year, taking up violin lessons under you, since you were a high school music teacher in your fourth year of teaching in this institution.

“Ah, yes, Seola, please do continue.” You smiled to the younger student as she enthusiastically returned to her playing, while you paid attention to the way she gripped her violin and bow. So far, she was doing fine, her posture straight and correct. However, you could also hear the emotion she was feeling at the moment, though you frowned as you realized what it was: rushed and excitement.

“Stop, stop,” you told her as her eyes widened in surprise that you told her to stop, but she immediately paused in her playing, putting down her instrument.  

“Is there something wrong?” She asked, tilting her head. As far as she was concerned, she might have been doing a good job, but your ears could never be deceived by simple mistakes.

You nodded as a response to her question. “You seemed quite… antsy about something. Is there something wrong? I don’t think you’re the type who would feel so excited when you’re playing a piece that should be played adagio.”

She nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Is it really that obvious?” She asked as you nodded. “Well, I just heard some rumors that a famous alumnus of this high school was coming today here and I wanted to see him,” she murmured at the last part as you raised an eyebrow.

“Which one?” You asked, trying to go over the list of famous alumni who graduated in this high school. Since this high school was a performing arts high school, there were a lot of alumni who became famous actors, singers, producers, dancers, and artists.

“Do you know ‘Monster’, by any chance, Miss? He’s a really famous rock star and, well, some of my friends overheard from the faculty room that he was coming,” she said, giving a smile. You simply stayed silent, your mouth in a straight line as you tried to recall anything from earlier.

“He’s a famous international rock star. Who wouldn’t know him, Seola?” You replied to your student with a smile as she chuckled, her eyes glinting in delight. It was obvious that she was a fan of Monster.

Keep reading

| Jeon JungKook | Beauty and the Beast! AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Genre: Romance/ angst.
Warnings: none.
Word count: 3k
A/N: This is shamefully late and unbelievably long. I didn’t follow the exact story line so it’s safe to say that it’s my modified version of the fairytale.

Little did he know, little did she see. Black ivory and no chance to flee, what a daunting task it came to be. The corners of his mouth twisted in a mischievous grin, looking upon their little sleepy heads. Kissing goodbyes and wiping farewell tears.

Keep reading


sooo Julia became level 40 the other day, so I wanted to draw what she said because it was quite heartwarming o<o;;;

I also have Ryoma’s dialogue, but he’s gonna take longer because he’s a pain to draw ahahahahah;;;;

About the Realm of the Elderlings and fanfic, and also the greatest love story ever told

There are some stories that are not made for fanfiction. Some stories, some story worlds, are private playgrounds - you can visit, but you can’t build anything there, and all you can take home is memories.

Robin Hobb’s Realm of the Elderlings is one of those story worlds. Let me be clear - I’m not saying this because she doesn’t like fanfiction. The opinion of an author about fanfiction is largely irrelevant. If there is space in the told story for other stories, those stories will be written, one way or another. Fanfic can’t be stopped and it can’t be contained, and if your story allows it (not you, but your story) then it will happen.

The only way to stop that is to leave no room for it. If your story is complete, in a way that very few stories ever are, then fanfic won’t happen. Or, it will happen, but there won’t be much of it and it won’t satisfy. 

That’s what Hobb did with RotE. There’s just no room for fanfic. Oh, maybe there was once, between the third and fourth trilogies, when Beloved had gone away and Fitz was with Molly. I can see how some people might want to write a reunion scene or something similar, but there wasn’t much of it.

Fanfic lives in the liminal spaces, in the gaps between what we are told has happened and what might have happened, what could have happened. It lives on things we don’t know, about the characters, about the world. We need those mysteries to feed into the fic - what is the Giant Rat of Sumatra? How would the books have gone if Harry Potter had been a girl? There are mysteries in RotE, but they bind the story rather than freeing it. Don’t get it? Let me explain. I’m going to use the most obvious example, and please do remember that this is not a criticism, nor is it a complaint. The fact that I believe that is is not possible to write good fanfiction in this ‘verse is the highest compliment I am capable of.

Obviously a lot of fanfic is ship-orientated. Not all of it by any means, but you know, a significant percentage of fanfic is written so that two characters get together, one way or another. RotE has the ultimate ship. It spans seventy years and all of Fitz’s life. They literally bring each other back to life. They have a child together (sort of. It’s complicated). They…well, that’s a spoiler. And yet there is never what you might call a romantic resolution. Beloved admits his love to Fitz (freely, throughout the series, but notably when asked about the face they chose for Paragon), but Fitz only confesses his feelings for the Fool in a roundabout way, and not even to Beloved themself.

How is it that we have twelve novels (and not thin novels either - Assassin’s Fate took me almost fourteen hours of nonstop reading to finish, and the first time I read the books when there were only nine, I didn’t sleep for an entire weekend) of this bone-deep love, this absolute devotion and adoration and pining…and we haven’t flooded the world with it? Where are the AUs? Where are the coffeeshop AUs and the high school AUs and all the others? I can’t believe that Hobb’s (with all love said, stupid and reactionary) opinion on fanfic could have stopped that from happening.

I think I know what could stop that, though, and that’s Beloved. If there was ever a cypher in the world of fiction, that would be the Fool. We know so little about them - they’re a White, they’re a Prophet, they had three parents and a sister who loved them. We know about Clerres, and we know that they love Fitz far, far more than Fitz deserves. What we don’t know about them could fill volumes, however, and there’s one thing we never find out which makes writing shippy fanfic about Beloved and Fitz…tricky.

Yes, I’m talking about the gender thing. I’m not sure whether Beloved is genderqueer or genderfluid or what. The point is, though, that we know that the Fool is just as real as Amber is just as real as Golden is just as real as Beloved. We know that they have many identities, some of which are female, and all of them real, for a given value of real. We’re never told what the Fool’s plumbing is actually like, which is fair enough. It’s really none of our business, after all.

But it does make writing harder. Because we tend to think in terms of the gender binary, so in a lot of the fic I’ve read, Beloved is sort of…assigned a gender. Generally, it appears, male. But what about Amber, then? What if the Whites don’t actually have sex and gender the way we understand it (although from what we learn in the Fitz and the Fool trilogy it seems they do)?

We can’t write effective shippy fanfic in this world because we don’t know what actually goes on under Beloved’s clothes - and that’s sort of essential. And there just isn’t room for any other kind, not really. Taking the relationship between Fitz and Beloved to another level (I don’t want to call it the next level, because as far as I’m concerned there isn’t a level beyond what they share) is the only space in the world for more story. We could write more about the dragons, we could go back and write about Elderling society - but with that we run into the same trouble as we do with Fitz/Beloved - we just don’t know enough. And besides, the heart of the story is in its characters, so why would we even bother writing in a time where they don’t exist?

Is that actually bad, though? Wouldn’t assigning Beloved a biological sex in the canon actually make them…less-than? Less than what they are, which is amazing? We can grump that Beloved’s identity makes writing love stories about them more difficult, but what of it? Isn’t it amazing that Hobb has managed to create this character, this beautiful, gloriously complicated character, so complicated that it’s actually impossible to get deep enough into their head to write fanfiction about them? 

If pressed, I could write fanfiction about almost any character you care to name. I might have trouble with other things (I can’t imitate Wodehouse’s style well enough to write Bertie POV Jeeves, but I can fake Jeeves’ voice well enough, and I’m desperately intimidated by Watson’s voice) but I can get into the character’s heads, and I can play around there. But with this? I can’t get deep enough into Beloved’s head to write them, they’re just too complicated. And that’s fucking amazing, because you don’t often see characters with such depth and mystery - most mystery is contrived, but with Beloved it feels natural. It’s just who they are.

I think the point I’m trying to make is that what Hobb has achieved is a rare and beautiful thing - a story world that doesn’t need fanfiction. The plot is complete - there are no holes that need filling, and very few alternate paths to follow (very few that would be in character, anyway). There are no moments where the reader goes, not ‘I wouldn’t do that’ (there are many of those) but ‘Fitz wouldn’t do that’. The characters are either so well known that writing about them is redundant, or so cloaked in mystery that writing about them is almost impossible. RotE is like a crystal ball. It’s complete in itself. It doesn’t need anything more, and if you trying to add anything…well, the phrase ‘gilding the lily’ comes to mind. And that, my friends, is fucking amazing. Hobb has done what she wanted - she’s made it almost impossible to write fanfiction in her world. And isn’t the way she did it clever? She made the story so perfect that writing fanfiction in it seems almost like a desecration.

That’s not to say that nobody can write fanfiction in this world. I can’t stop anyone, and I wouldn’t if I could. I just can’t imagine reading it (I don’t need to. I tried, and was unmoved).

Since we’re already here, let’s talk about love. Specifically, let’s talk about the love story that is Fitz and his Beloved. When I was reading Assassin’s Fate, I kept hoping for…something. Some…moment of affirmation, that said that yes, they love each other. Yes, they’re soulmates. I thought it would be something like a kiss, something romantic.

I didn’t get a kiss, or a declaration. I think, though, that I got something better. Because their love is so…there’s so much of it, and it runs so deep. It’s written into their bones. It’s complicated and beautiful and so real. It’s so obvious that it doesn’t need that moment of declaration, that moment that says ‘yes, you are the love of my life’ because that’s basically what their story has been, one moment of ‘I love you’ after another. In fact, the only thing that was ever needed was that moment of ‘Yes, you love me.’ It doesn’t need a kiss, or sex, or anything other than the knowledge that they love each other, equally and eternally. It’s the kind of love poetry is written about, the kind of love every human being desperately desires, the kind that is so rare and precious that most of us can’t even understand it. We keep confusing it with want, with sex, with things that are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but while those things can be part of it, it doesn’t need to be.

Twelve novels is a long time to spend on a love story, but that’s fitting, because there’s never been a love story like this. The closest, I think, may have been BBC Sherlock, but that show was betrayed, and the love story had no culmination. Not so here. By the end of the series, you may doubt anything you like, but you will never doubt that Fitz and the Fool love each other as much as two people can love.

It’s a love story that spans seventy years and the fate of a world. Twelve books (not counting the ones that don’t deal directly with Fitz and the Fool)and almost three million words.

All I can say is that I’m fucking honored to have read it, and eternally grateful that @sarahreesbrennan flailed about it on her blog almost ten years ago, because the thought that I might have missed reading it is horrifying.

Daryl x Reader - Losing you (Request) [SMUT]

@chihuotheartist : Okay please don’t kill me, i finally know what i could ask you xD Basically the reader has been disappearing for quite a while now, everyone thinks she’s dead and Daryl feels really hurt and hopeless since he really liked her, but someday the group see something in the distance, its her the reader, she survived somehow, she is dirty and exausthed, daryl is really happy but also worried so he would take care of her for a while? and as ending maybe making love (fluff) ;U;

hope you like it boo, and happy birthday ♥



“Where are you goin’ sunshine?”

“Just a little run for Rick, he needs things for Judith, she’s getting bigger and bigger, I’ll be home before dinner time” 

you said, giving him a sweet kiss before walking out of your house.

That  was the last image he has of you.

You walking out of your shared house in Alexandria, giving him a smile before exit the house and never come back.

It’s been two weeks and you didnt’ return from that run, Daryl keep looking for you with no result.

Since your disappearance Daryl wasn’t the same; he doesn’t talk, he barely eat and spend all his time out Alexandria looking for you.

Today is no different, he was preparing his bike in silence, taking his crossbow and backpack.

He dosen’t notice a certain sheriff approaching to him:

“Hey Daryl, what are you doin’?”

“I’m going out looking for her”
Rick lets out a sigh, he loves you and Daryl like a brother and sister, but he accepted your fate almost immediately:
“I think you should give up”

Daryl’s figure tensed up:
“What did you say?” he asked angrily.

“Daryl…you need to accept that it’s already two weeks, she won’t coming back”

Daryl grabs Rick by his shirt:
“(Y/n) is a fighter! She’s still alive! We must find her”

Daryl’s loud voice attracts some Alexandrians.

From the corner of his eyes, Rick notice Abraham and Glenn walking towards them, ready to stop Daryl, however Rick lift his hand as a sign to stop:

“Hit me if that makes you feel better but that will not bring her back!”.

Deep inside Daryl knew you were gone forever, but he wasn’t ready to accept that you were gone.

Daryl stares at Rick with teary eyes: “I…I miss her so much” 

“I know brother, I miss her too”.

Before Rick could hug the broken man, someone run toward him:
“Rick you have to come at the gate, someone is walking toward our gates”.

Both Rick and Daryl start to run toward the gate; they could make out a figure getting closer and closer, but it was impossible to say if that figure was a human being or a walker.

“Give me those binoculars” Daryl asked Tobin, who quickly give them to him.

When Daryl had a better view, the binoculars fell from his hands:

“Open the gate, now!” he screamed.

Everybody was confused by his reaction, so, while Eugene open the gate, Rick takes the binoculars from the ground…he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Once the gate was open Daryl sprint outside.

He run an run until he found himself in front of the mysterious figure.


Here she was, his loved one was there, in front of him, beautiful despite her grim covered body.

“Daryl…” she whispers before falling into his arms, she was crying.

“sssh babygirl I’m here” Daryl hug her tightly, scared that if he let her go she will disappear.

Since she was exhausted, Daryl picks her up, bridal style, and start walking back towards the gate, He still can’t believe that she’s back safe and sound, after two weeks outside.

After Denise checked (Y/n) up, and a very long sleep, Daryl helped (Y/n) into the bath tub.

Despite her body is covered in bruises and scars, he can’t help but stare at that naked beauty, she’s the most beautiful woman he ever see.

“Why don’t you join me mr. Dixon?” she says grinning.

“Are you sure sunshine?” 

“I’ve been gone for two weeks…I need to feel you close to me” She got serious, the grinning drop from her face.

Nodding, Daryl undressed and enters the bath tub, settle himself behind (Y/n) and hugging her from behind.

“I thought I’ve lost you” Daryl whispered, kissing the top of (Y/n)’s head.

She turn around, straddling Daryl and hiding her face into the crook of his neck:
“I almost give up out there…but I needed to see your face again…I needed to feel you again, I couldn’t die like that”.

Daryl keeps moving his hands up and down her bare back:
“I missed you so much, I went out there everyday, looking for you…I almost give up…I’m sorry”

Daryl’s feel (Y/n) smiling into his skin: “You will not get rid of me easly”.

At that, (Y/n) starts to grind on Daryl.

He bring his hands on her hips for stopping her movements:

“(Y/n) I…”
“Please Daryl…I need to feel you”
“I don’t wanna hurt you” Daryl whisper, staring at her eyes.

“It’s okay Daryl…I need you, please”

Daryl kisses her sweetly, pouring all the love he feels for her into it.

They soon became one, that wasn’t sex, that was pure love.

(Y/n) keeps moving up and down Daryl’s shaft, the only noises are their moans and whispers:
“You have no idea how much I love you Daryl”
“I love you too sunshine”.

With a last thrust, they both came with each other names on their lips.

(Y/n) lays her head on Daryl’s shoulder, while he keeps whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“I will never let you go, sunshine”.

Note: I cried while writing this hahahahahhaha 

I know the smut wasn’t so detailed but I wanted to write something fluffy :3

Forever taglist: @youandyourstupidrope




anonymous asked:


post Founder’s Mutation

Her hands are tied behind her back, the tethers invisible but tight, her wrists aching against their everlasting pull. Though she rarely sleeps on her stomach - he noticed that too, furrowed his brow as she shifted positions in bed, wondered what other habits she’d picked up of late - she lies chest-down now, her cheek hot against the starched pillow, her lungs heavy upon the mattress. He’s still awake, so of course, he knows she’s still awake.

Once upon a time - he used to always begin his stories like that, once upon a time, two agents named Mulder and Scully scurried out to the far reaches of the planet and learned that, in the end, it doesn’t matter what we see but with whom we see it - they shared a bed like this. Not in the romantic way, no, but in the incidental and apologetic way that two non-lovers subdued daily by mutual but silent attraction would. Once upon a time, they checked into a Motel 6 and found, well, damn it, there’s one room left, only a queen-size open. Though she knew better than to believe in the law of averages, she still mused the statistical improbability, the way that the theorems of the world should at least have allowed for one or two cancellations that night; last week, she read a theory on how the world is all Matrix - she still knows where that DVD is in their home, wedged up between Contact and Interstellar on the shelf - and just a computer simulation, and if that’s true, then the mathematical modeling that binds everyone together should have given them another option. They could have driven to another hotel even though it was past midnight, or they could have crashed on the local sheriff’s couch, or they could have slept in the car while parked alongside two RVs and a truck in a starkly-lit Walmart lot. Instead, Mulder looked to her, then agreed to one room, and the way her heart had stopped at the prospect made her wonder if morals could ever be absolute; if pain and terror could be so exciting, then why are the body’s warning signs? Why are the things that terrify us so indulgent? 

But she digressed and came into bed with him and silenced her scientific mind while he stayed above the sheets. He slept in sweats and a tee shirt while she wore all-too-proper pajamas, a night suit as he’d once called them. Then, she slid onto her side and stared toward the motel room’s window, one blocked off by a shabby curtain that let flickers of parking lot light in, and she waited for something she couldn’t identify.

“You’re still awake,” he said after minutes, hours, days, she couldn’t tell.

“You are too,” she gave softly, hesitantly.

“Of course I am,” he said. “I don’t sleep.”

Uncomfortably, she lay there, her body tense in a workday kind of way: shoulders up, eyes wide open and stinging with tiredness, stomach empty, legs aching. Back then, her restraints were looser around her wrists, and sometimes, they threatened to fall beyond her fingers, so regularly, she tightened them. Occam’s Razor, she used to explain to herself; it was far more likely that she was simply unsexed and bored with her personal life than that she was silently but genuinely in love with him, so she kept her professional rigidity, left her mask of scientific indifference on.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause.

Though she too was sorry, she knew their reasonings wouldn’t align, so she kept quiet. In the morning, they didn’t discuss how he curled up against her back at some point in the night, and they didn’t make a big deal about how she stared a second too long after walking in on him while he was in the shower. Most of all, they never talked about what they would do if such a thing happened again.

And it did happen again, though new context forced previous awkwardness away. Instead of wasting money on two required hotel rooms, they were forced into one when they would’ve used only one anyway; with his hands strong around her hips, his mouth warm and wet against her skin, she found those nights similar to any other night of that time, the room situation disregarded. For a while, she only stayed in hotels during medical conferences in far-off places, so she reserved one room with one bed, the practice easy and simple and everyday. Nowadays, they’re back to two rooms, one bed each, and as they did once upon a time, they both retreat to their own rooms at night, only now she wears his old shirts to bed while she doubts he wears anything at all.

Tonight, she asked for two rooms, and, what do you know, they’re booked. After all, this motel’s tiny, and up here in the Adirondacks during on-season, kitschy cabin-style places that are cheap and have enough parking for a boat rack sell out quickly. Though there are eight units total, seven were full upon their arrival, only one left to boot. The next closest establishment is at least twenty miles away, and here in lake-and-land country, the roads are dark and narrow, begging a driver to lose control. In terms of probability, it seems the world wants her to lose control in some way or another. This time, she accepted the one room while he stared on blankly. 

“You’re still awake,” he says, and she feels the restraints grow tighter.

Keep reading

[Oneshot] Jungkook - First Love

Word Count : 1,160

Genre : slight fluff, kind of angsty

A/N: I was about to make it as a drabble, but I didn’t realize the word count reached 1k c:


One skip of heartbeat for his brown eyes.

Two skips of heartbeat for his figure.

Three skips of heartbeat for his smile.

The internal organ inside your chest just seemed to recall its old routine all over again, one that could only be done when you looked at him. You never expected this encounter, but he was right in front of you, alive, breathing, not just a pixelated image on your phone screen.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

His name still rolled on your tongue smoothly, with no crack of voice and such.

“(Y/N).” He looked equally in disbelief. The passers-by’s voices suddenly diminished around the both of you, followed by their restless shadows.

Jeon Jungkook was your first boyfriend, and it was safe to say that he wa your first love, too. He accepted your almost eccentric self just the way you were, and you accepted every nook and cranny of his timid personality. Just like two puzzles that didn’t look alike, you both somehow managed to click yourselves somewhere in each of your sides.

But his family decided to move out of the small city you both met in, aiming for a better future and a safe place from all the debt collectors, so you had to say your goodbye. You both were too young, and no one — not even yourself — could assure the both of you that long distance relationship would work. So you both broke the tie, together with the communication that you knew would just make you beg to be together with him again.

While you’d finally manage to suppress the deadly horror of longing, he suddenly showed up again in your life, just as if he was mocking your hard work with his sweet presence.

“You still look the same.” He approached your frozen limbs, as your mind still couldn’t digest the reality that Jungkook really was right in front of you.

“Thank you.” Your mind was in a jumble, it processed his words earlier as a compliment. Once he raised his fingers, you instantly grabbed them, trying to feel the warm skin against yours. He was real. This wasn’t a dream.

Jungkook chuckled at your still-blank face, before his arms circled around your shoulders tightly, just like how he always did it when he walked you home after school.

“I miss you so much.”

Steam was waltzing above your cup of coffee, and you secretly took a glance at the person behind it.

Jungkook tapped his finger onto his own cup, unaware of your staring eyes. You still couldn’t believe how he still looked flawless after all these years — his skin still looked so smooth, his nose was still as tall and slender as you remembered it, and the only difference was the missing two buns of cheeks that you adored so much. They were replaced by the sharp edges of jawlines, and tall cheekbones that transformed his image from a small guy to a mature man.

He cleared his throat, and the thundering voice from his throat startled you from your trance. “How have you been, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders with a smile. “As good as I’ve ever been.” You chuckled. “What about you?”

“I’m good, too. My family is officially debt-free.” He showed off his signature bunny grin, and that made you realize that so many girls could’ve fallen in love with him when he left.

“That’s really great to hear. I’m so happy for you,” you responded with a smile equally bright. He sighed contentedly, before leaning in from across the table. “How’s your college? Did you get in to the major that you want?”

“Yeah, apparently. My father gave up convincing me to take Law after my attempts of running away.” You laughed the dark memories off like it didn’t affect your familial relationship at all, but Jungkook frowned with evident worry. “You never give up on rebelling, do you?”

You nodded with a sheepish expression. “But it’s all good now.”

Silence seeped in. You glanced at his hands, and now you were dying to hold them again, but there wasn’t any special excuse for you to do that like you did in the past.

“How about guys, hm?” His brave question brought your sight back to his face. He never liked talking about romance nor dating — it took you about two weeks after you two got together to make him say “I love you” while looking straight to your eyes. Yet he could ask you that oh-so-easily.

You swirled a strand of your hair with your finger. “No one special.” You avoided his captivating orbs. “To be honest, no one has been special ever since we… broke up.”

Just then, his hands that were radiating cosiness traveled across the wooden table, grabbing your free ones in his.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and though he was chuckling deeply, you could see through his reddened cheeks and nervous voice. “To be honest, the same goes for me.”

A relieved smile washed over your face. You were worried when he appeared at your vision; did he have a new girlfriend already? It’d been a couple of years, that’s a long enough time to find a new person, right?

Instead, you pulled his chin forward, clashing his plump lips to your peachy ones. They still felt the same, only a bit frostbitten in the midst of winter, but they never failed to make you crave more.

A thousand of memories flooded your mind, from the first time your view darted at his lost face in the school, all the secret basecamps you two created just for the comfort of the both of you, all the shared laughters and spilled tears only you and him knew, until the moment he waved his goodbye in the train station.

But the sudden rush of thoughts was interrupted with a sonorous sound of clashing glass plates the waiter was struggling with, and that brought you back to the idle, brown-painted cafe, where you two reunited this day.

You pulled back from the kiss, huffing from the cold and the overwhelming softness of his lips. He stared at you, giving a full look of his ethereal brown irises.

You replied his smile with a small grin. You never believed you managed to get someone as perfect as him to be by your side for a fairly long time, and maybe — just maybe — fate could’ve decided to bring you back to him for any reason it has.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you the day I left for Seoul,” he started. You were too focused on his face, engulfing every bit that you missed from years back.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, before saying,

“you are the best first love I could ever ask for.”

Your grin grew bigger.

“The same goes for me.”

You both laughed, and he hummed in thoughts.

“Say, what about we try again?”

Well—I have to say I personally have never drawn such a sharp line between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ as you. For me: that line is often false. The two are never disconnected. One can’t exist without the other. As long as I am acting out of love, I feel I am doing best I know how. But you—wrapped up in judgment, always regretting the past, cursing yourself, blaming yourself, asking ‘what if,’ ‘what if.’ ‘Life is cruel.’ ‘I wish I had died instead of.’ Well—think about this. What if all your actions and choices, good or bad, make no difference to God? What if the pattern is pre-set? No no—hang on—this is a question worth struggling with. What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can’t get there any other way?
—  Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch
Just This Once

Scenario: I shouldn’t be doing this, but you mentioned you’re really good at math, so can you help me pass this test?

Pairing: Namjoon + Reader

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate AU (in which you can communicate with your soulmate through thoughts)

Words: 2,655

A/N: Here’s yet another soulmate au. Inspired by one of the many ideas on here. I hope you enjoy it ♡


You thought you were going crazy when you heard a different voice inside your head the first time. You were 8 years old when you heard the quiet “hello” while you were doing homework. Unsure of what to do, you greeted the voice back. You weren’t expecting another response from the strange voice.

Just to make sure you didn’t need to go to an asylum, you asked your mother about it. She only laughed and said that was how you communicate with your soulmate. You talk through thoughts, but only the ones that you direct towards them.

She was more surprised that your soulmate talked to you so soon. Usually, soulmates can’t contact each other until they fully understand the whole soulmate concept and are able to control their thoughts.

After hearing that, you ran to your bed and closed your eyes. You immediately thought about the voice and tried to reach out to it. When you didn’t hear anything back, you were ready to give up until you heard it again.

Now that all of your attention was on the voice, you noticed that it belonged to a boy. It was odd to hear a different voice other than yours in your head, but you didn’t complain.

Who are you?” You asked him.

“I’m Namjoon.”

Keep reading

But what if I never get over you?

What if no matter how much time will pass and it’s still you that i love? That every time i wake up you’re the first person i am looking for. What if i am still hoping that it’s still you and me in the end. That the stars will align and the universe will collide and fate will bring us back together? What if i am still waiting for you, for your call and text asking me to give it a try?

What if i can’t move on from you no matter how hard i try? What if i still love you years from now even if you forgot about me?

What if you were the one, but I wasn’t?


(ee-oh-nee-uh n) (adj) 1. eternal; everlasting.

Post-manga. He waited 400 years to see her again, but only had three years to say goodbye.

Word Count: 4800
Pairing: InuKag
Can also be found here.




The date had been ingrained in his mind ever since her return. He knows he won’t miss it, but it surprises him when he arrives a week late. He peers into the dark shack, knowing the well is sealed, and drinks in the sight of her after hundreds of years.

She gazes down into the well longingly, but as he steps down and the stair creaks, she startles and turns, dark hair brushing against her shoulders. Her brown eyes, shimmering with tears, can barely make out his face through the moonlight shining into the well house.

His name falls from her lips in a whisper. “Inuyasha…”

He smiles, a breath of relief passing over his lips. “Hey.”

Her reaction quick, she hugs him, pressing her face into the fabric of his shirt. “I thought you were gone forever,” she sobs, clutching to his chest.

“I always come for you. I thought you knew that by now.” He embraces her in return, breathing in the scent that had been absent for so, so long.

He takes her hand and pulls her out of the well house to the Goshinboku, and while they walk, she notices the differences in his appearance. He no longer resembles a boy, but a man; his eyes no longer innocent, but jaded, as if he had seen too much of the world. His amber eyes are closer to a hazel, and the ears she loves so much are hidden from sight. He twists a silver ring absently on his right hand.

“What is that?” she asks, motioning toward it.

He glances down, regarding the ring for a moment. “A concealment ring. It allows me to live in a world that knows nothing of demons.”

She stays silent at that as they stand beneath the tree, peering up to the scar engraved in bark that twisted their strings of fate. She knows that he’s older than when she had last seen him, that it has been hundreds of years since he has been near the well. But she decides not to bring it up.

Pulling him to a bench, they sit, and she leans her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Kagome,” he whispers in return, voice deeper than she remembers.

“What happened…after I left?”

He sighs. “Let’s not talk about that now. I’m just happy to have found you again.”

She smiles, her vision blurring with tears. “Me, too.”

Keep reading