he barely wants to let go of her

Imagine now that after everything is over, and Eurus is secure again, Sherlock shows up at Molly’s flat. He explains everything to her, apologizes for what he made her do, but then very softly he tells her he doesn’t regret what he said, he only regrets that it hurt her. He stays for tea, and they talk for the remainder of the evening, all their feelings now laid bare. It’s the start of something new, something that neither of them want to let go of. 

Character Development: Nick

Sometimes I wonder about reviewers who complained about Nick’s “lack of character development”.

Were they watching the movie?

I mean, look at this sequence:

You know why Nick did that? Because, at this point, not only was he being blackmailed to do things he was not eager to do, but also because of “that little item”:

Now, if Nick can go from that guy who “wanted to see Judy fail” to this guy, who dared to stood up for her when no one else would:

I daresay that is a great character development.

He changed enough, so despite of his own principle:

He nearly let Judy “get to him”, by baring his past, his reason for him to be so apathetic. His wall was crumbling:

And his wall kept crumbling until he was wide open and vulnerable to the bunny:

His childhood dream finally coming true:

So imagine how crushed he would be seconds later. At this point when his defenses were all down, the wall had been torn down by Judy, the bunny revealed her own baggage of prejudice:


I’d say this is amazing character development. Moreso if you remember that all these were compressed into a period of 3 days.

Reviewers should learn to analyze movies deeply, with open mind and desire to analyze. And not expect everything to be handed on a silver platter.

IOW: They should learn to use their brains.


I got you dude. I’m not the skinny type, I’m thick and I got a bit of a stomach. I know it’s not really “ chubby ” but I’m tired of all the constantly skinny, perfect MC so let’s go Broski. I don’t really know what to do for Jaehee right now so bare with me. I’ll post hers later.


»Absolutely adores it

» This lil baby just wants games and cuddles

»Never really understood why you got so insecure.

» He loved all of your curves, every little stretch mark was beautiful to him

» After falling asleep in his arms he would lightly trace them with his finger tips, all your perfect little imperfections.

» He constantly studied your body and whenever you questioned it he went off about how beautiful you were.

»He constantly would compliment you, making sure that you always had a light in your eyes.

» Regardless of your body type, Yoosung mainly fell in love with your personality.


»He understood since he actually fuckimg lived off of junk food.

» He was constantly with you whenever you wanted to lose weight

» And whenever you were you were being insecure about your weight, he just told you it was all just more to love.

» When you felt stress because people were beating you down, he’d let you cuddle up in his lap when he was working.

» He was also really turned on by all of your curves cause damn bitch you fucking work it

Jumin whenever I type Jumin it auto corrects to humongous I think my phone wants to say something

» Jumin completely never got it.

» When you wanted to loose weight he would hire weight loss trainers

» When you wanted to eat better he would hire some top qual chefs.

» Once he figured out that you needed more love, he was all over you

» The moment he got done with work he would pull you close and hold you.

» He’d let you cry on his shoulder about how people were rude about your weight.

» When you didn’t feel beautiful, all he did was compliment you, cherish you, sometimes he’d make good ass love to you.

» Every once in a while he hired fashion designers that could give you a make over and absolutely made you feel like, and look like, a goddess.

» That’s what you were to him. A curvy goddess.


» Zen always high key hoped that his narcissism rubbed off on you.

»Sadly it never did. You were always so insecure about your body and your weight.

» Zen slowly adverted all of his attention to you.

» Every once in a while, he would brag to the press about how much he loved you and how gorgeous you are.

» At home, he was a lot like Yoosung, holding you close and studying every little detail of your body.

» It also highkey turned him on to see how curvy you are


» God this man loved your curves.

» He thought you were an actual angel sent down from heaven just for him like holy fuck.

» Ever since he got his vision back he just fell harder for you.

» He would flaunt you in public, buy you whatever his money could afford

»He just spoiled the hell out of you and made you feel so fucking loved

» All of the attention he gave you was washing most of your insecurities away because he was all you needed.

» He was your universe.


» Saeran always had trouble sorting out his emotions so you never truly felt like he loved you.

» But one day he found you crying in front of a mirror due to all of your insecurities.

» Every day since then, he put all of his power into making sure you were cherished.

Emo fuzzball knew what it felt like, he does that same thing but he couldn’t have you feeling the same emotions

» Saeran wasn’t sure about many of his emotions but one he knew for sure was that he loved you. A lot. So he spent every second of every day making sure you knew it.

End of the Day

Request: Could You write an imagine where You (Batmom) finds out that You have cancer??

The words had come as a shock to you.  For a while, you had been feeling weak and you had trouble breathing sometimes.  You had laughed it off, but when Bruce brought you to the doctor, your world had shattered.  

It was cancer.  And it was barely treatable at this point.  

Both of you had thanked the doctor and drove home with Bruce.  You knew you needed to talk about options, but all you wanted to do was cry.  As soon as you got home, you were bombarded with questions from your sons.  

You pushed them all aside and walked up the stairs.  You heard Bruce sigh and say “Let her have her space.” He followed you up into the bedroom and found you sitting on the bed.  As soon as he hugged you, you let it all go and started crying.  “Bruce, what are… what are we going to say.”

He had to stay strong for you.  He hugged you tighter, kissed your forehead, and spoke shakily.  “We tell them.  They need to know before it gets worse.”  

Bruce held you until you slept.  As soon as he knew you were asleep he tucked you in and went into his study.  It finally sunk in the you had cancer.  The love of his life, had cancer.  And you didn’t even know if there was any chance of curing it.  He had  to be strong for you.  You couldn’t see him cry.  

You woke up to find that Bruce was gone.  Getting up, you walked into his study to find his shoulders shaking as sobs racked his body. Walking in, Bruce noticed you and tried to seem like he wasn’t.  Sitting on his lap, you put your head in the crook of his neck, mumbling “Bruce it’s ok to cry.  No one is going to say anything.”  He lifted his head and looked you in the eyes.  “Y/N Wayne.  I love you and we will figure this out.  We’ll make our way through the dark.  I promise.”

It had been days before you told the boys.  You and Bruce had made the decision to gather the boys in the living room.  Damian had been the first to say something. “Mother, what’s wrong?”  “I love you all so much.  And at the end of the day, I’m so thankful that I was able to have a family as amazing as this one.”

You could barely force the words out, choking and holding back sobs.  All the boys had been worried, and they all began firing questions at the same time.  Bruce couldn’t hold it back anymore, and he began sobbing.  That’s when your boys knew something was definitely wrong.  Worse than what they suspected.  

“I have cancer.”  

Immediately the color drained from their faces, and they were silent.   Damian had walked out of the room, ignoring your cries for him to stay.  Dick and Tim were stunned.  How could you have cancer?  You were so healthy.  Jason looked up, tears running down his face.  He muttered out “But you can’t. You can’t, you can’t…” His words got louder and tears erupted from him.  At this point tears had come from all of them.

You gather up the boys in a hug, kissing each one of the on the forehead.  “I promise that we will get through this.  And at the end of the day, I love you all and this family.”

AN:  So this is my first imagine and I don’t really know how to feel about it.  I hope you guys enjoy.  Please leave feedback so I can do better.

Unexpected Bonds 2

Ch 1

Chapter Two

A week had passed since the Suriel had revealed too much to Rhysand and Feyre. They had barely discussed what it exposed about Lucien with each other let alone told anybody else yet. Feyre felt a pang of pity for her old friend, that he felt the need to hide his feelings. Rhys had told her that there was a ridiculous expectation placed on High Lords to sire children to keep the line going, it was as out dated and as ridiculous as the stigma about having a High Lady. So far only Tarquin of the Summer Court had followed suit and named his wife High Lady. But Lucien, he hadn’t wanted any of this, hadn’t expected his father and brothers to perish in the war. However, she was still pissed at him for trying to claim her sister. But by the Cauldron Elain and Azriel, mates. She had had to stop Rhys from telling them the second they returned from their meeting with the Suriel. He had almost knocked on Elain’s door when she caressed his mental shield asking to come into his mind, he stopped and lowered the wall letting her in. She filled his head with a memory. Cassian had felt the bond with Nesta click into place when she was tending to his limp wings. They were almost healed now but it would still be months maybe years before he would be able to fly again. He was beside himself with fear and hope when the mating bond had crashed into him. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she did feel it and wouldn’t want it? He had confided in Rhys that evening and like a coward he had asked Rhys to tell her for him, there was something about Nesta that unnerved him, he couldn’t concentrate around her and Rhys was always better with words. The following day Rhys had tracked down Nesta and told her how Cassian felt, what Cass felt. She had kicked him in the balls before he could even finish.

Keep reading

just once

They agree it’s a one time thing. She has barely touched her lips to his before his phone had started ringing. Ginny didn’t have time to gasp or tilt her head and open her mouth to him. None of the things that 16-year old Ginny Baker had promised herself she’d do if she ever found herself pressed against Mike Lawson. 

It was only meant to happen if he was going to Chicago.

But he’s not anymore.

So, it’s a one time thing. They’re teammates. Friends. No need to mess up a good thing with the unknown.

So, one fleeting, barely there, electric as hell kiss.


Except it’s not. Because Ginny Baker doesn’t let anyone or anything deny her what she wants. And she wants Mike Lawson (who has never cared about rule following, anyway. He tried chivalry, tried to save Ginny from himself and what they could be and the Fates decided his ass belonged firmly with Baker).

So that one time kiss turns into Ginny following him into the showers, long after everyone had cleared out (they’re horny, not dumb). Shower visits turns into Ginny pressed against the wall–hot and soapy and wet–with Mike Lawson sucking kisses into her neck.

They figure that once they’ve christened the shower, a kiss or two in her changing room wouldn’t mean much anyway. The thrill of someone entering, someone catching them, heightens their urgency, makes her soft cry of, “Fuck,” throatier.

Lawson’s got shitty knees, but it doesn’t stop him from kneeling in front of her and using his tongue, fingers, and lips on her. She comes with his name on her lips and her hands in his hair.

She knows they should talk about this–address what the fuck they’re actually doing. How it seems to not just be once at all and how Mike has begun crowding her space when men approach, how he asked her once in the quiet of their bedroom (dammit, her bedroom, not theirs) to please stop seeing Noah. She wants to fire back that they’re just fucking, that he has no hold on her. But she knows better. She knows she will meet him at every dive bar, answer every call, and have his back, no matter what. 

She kisses his mouth softly, once, twice, three times and presses her body to his, her head on his chest and sighs softly. “Only you.”

Mike knows they should talk to. He thinks about doing this whole thing the right way–flowers and chocolate and shit but then he thinks, Ginny Baker isn’t a normal girl. She’s everything. He knows he’s in deep. He knows she’s not there yet. So he waits.

So he pleads with her after every kiss, fuck, shared pizza and beer, and every game, “Just once more…”

Kaminari Headcanons Pt. 2  

  • No consistent schedule for sleeping and eating. He is a mess.
  • Only reason his hygiene isn’t in the same state is bc he has his own bathroom schedule and gets reminded to go in there by the other boys who don’t want to get zapped (which has happened).
  • Will not sleep in his own bed. 
  • Either asleep on the dorm sofas after falling asleep whilst watching something or more likely sleeping in Kirishima’s, Mina’s and occasionally Bakugou’s bed. 
  • Jirou won’t let him in her bed and there’s barely any floor space but sometimes he does manage to squeeze in and crash on the floor. He also likes Momo’s big double bed but is usually kicked out. 
  • Actually fluent in English (mainly for tv but also he likes reading classics in their native language) but always flubs the exams for some reason.
  • Same happens in Japanese Lit. class but he’s a more avid reader than Yaomomo. 
  • Really does not like tests.
  • …or school.
  • Wants to be a hero though so he powers through.
  • His motivations for becoming a hero are that he wants to save little kids who have been taken in/corrupted by villains (may or may not be because of his own personal experiences).
  • Asks for piggyback rides like everywhere. It’s lucky he’s best friends with Kirishima.
  • Attention span? What attention span?
  • Cannot tell you what happened this morning but can tell you what his middle school friend told him about their pet turtle 3 years ago word for word.
  • Always has a crazy story to tell - thank you low impulse control.
  • Genuinely trying so hard to be a nice person. 
  • His top 3 qualities he would like to be known for are being interesting, kind and funny.
  • Kirishima makes sure to call him those a lot along with the usual manly compliments.

[Pt. 1] [Angsty Kaminari Headcanons]


Prompts List #2

GenderNeutral!Reader x Peter Maximoff, SFW

Reader: Mutant 

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 290

Warnings: None

Living together at the mansion for a few days and dating for even longer, Peter and you decided to go visit his family. They were probably already missing him like crazy! And you were very anxious about meeting them yourself.

The introduction went nicely and you liked his mum and adored his sister! Peter would never admit it out loud, but he was happy about it.

“Going somewhere?” Peter’s mum asked you both with a grin when you decided to spend some time together alone in the basement.

“You know, the usual make-out session,” Peter said with a shrug and you involuntarily blushed. “I doubt you want to join us, mum.”

His mother laughed and let you go. You could barely look her in the eye after his bold statement.

“I knew you had no filter, but this was a lot even for me,” you told him, when you were sitting together on his couch downstairs.

Peter only grinned at you and stole a kiss. “You should know better by now,” he told you almost seriously, because he just had to smile when he was looking at you.

“Or maybe you should be nicer by now,” you replied with a smirk.

Peter clutched his heart dramatically. “How dare you disrespect me like that in my own house?” he pretended to be offended.

You laughed shortly and kissed him. “Oh, I dare…”

“I still think I’m plenty nice,” he acted as if he was still mad at you and no kiss could make it up for him. “If I weren’t, you would be sitting on the floor now… and not on my precious couch.”

“What if I sat on you? What then?” you asked and raised your eyebrow with a grin.


Feel free to send in any requests. Not many people do, but just know you can if you want to.

Summary: Harry comes down with a cold, but Y/N will not tolerate having to baby him. Let’s just say she uses something he knows he can’t resist to coax him out of bed.


She ghosted her fingers over Harry’s pale skin, causing an expanse of small goosebumps to rise in their wake. Along with them, short hairs stood to attention. Still, his bare arms remained secured around his pillow, his hair a brown and fluffy mess splayed across it. Going to bed early wasn’t the solution, after all. In the time that he had slept in, she managed to eat breakfast, watch Live with Kelly, and put a load of clothes through the wash. There was no denying the fact that people who were under the weather slept like hibernating bears.

The unfortunate truth was that he was bound to catch something eventually. Especially with his grudge against walking around with socks and checking the mail after throwing a jacket on. Both were effortless tasks, yet he felt as though they were a waste of useful time. Making those two simple changes could’ve been enough to protect him catching a cold. The season for those was in full swing, and no mercy was shown on anybody. Especially not green-eyed boys who liked to believe they were immune to everything.

Before walking to the window, she placed a careful kiss on Harry’s cheek. The corner of his lips gave the slightest twitch upwards, but that was it. With a sigh, she went to open the blinds. The sunlight made a world of a difference. Their room no longer resembled one from a TV commercial about depression. All of the furnitures’ nice colors stood out. There were even small specks dust that were visible now that the rays were streaming in.

Along with the burst of color came a discomforted grunt from curly. Eyes still shut and eyebrows drawn in a furrow. It was a deep sound that couldn’t have came from anywhere but his throat. Though it was time for him to, at least, attempt to get up, a cloud of guilt lulled over her. Maybe he could’ve benefited from another ten minutes in bed. Sleep was the solution to many bodily issues, but nothing good could possibly come from staying in one place for a too-long period of time. She’d unintentionally done the right thing, it seemed.

Back at his bedside, she gently pressed the back of her hand against his forehead for good measure. As long as he didn’t have a fever, things were headed in the right direction. She didn’t have the chance to really feel his temperature because he was quick to jerk away like something stung him.

“Hey, stop it,” he grumbled, sniffing.

“Listen, I’m just try—” she stoped herself when she caught her harshness. “Sorry. Listen. I’m just trying to make sure you still have just a cold. If you’re burning up, we’ve got an even bigger problem on our hands, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, her hand was back on his forehead.

The truth was that he didn’t want her finding out his temperature was normal. Sure, his nose was running and his throat was sore but he’d be able to pull through; it was nothing he couldn’t handle. There was just something about staying in bed that was much more promising. The sheets and his pillow were both warm, wordlessly begging him to stay.

All he could do was whimper in defeat when she pulled away. “Y’ can leave now. ’M fine.” At least that was the truth.

“’M not leaving this room until you give me your word that you’ll get yourself ready. You’re almost 23. Suck it up,” she reminded him, rolling her eyes a few beats after he did. There was a playful undertone laced within that statement. Come February, he’d be the oldest by two years. That age gap would decrease when her birthday rolled around in the Spring, however.

“Go ‘way,” he rasped.

“I’ll heat up some of those sausage links you like,” she promises, a smile growing on her face. “I know you can’t resist those.” That too, was a statement of truth.

They were store bought, but tasted as if they came from Italy’s finest butchery. There was something about the spices and the texture of the meat that screamed professionalism. He was capable of microwaving them himself, but she always opted to do it because of his inability to wrap them properly. If the paper towel was too loose, excess grease would stain the microwave. If it was too tight, the links would be rubbery. Both were mistakes he often times made.

His ears perked up like a dog’s. “Will you fix my eggs the way I like ‘em too?” He was rolling right along with her plan.

“If you go take care of your personal hygiene, maybe I will,” she told him, smiling expectantly.

So that’s what he did.

The sound of padding feet soon joined his sizzling egg as they cooked in the pan. In the air hung the familiar scent of breakfast food. None could be made out individually, but collectively it was one of the smells many people remember from childhood mornings. Harry soon trudged into her view, raising his long arms to stretch. His grey hoodie rode up enough for her to see his belly button and the thin line of hair under it. Not to mention his two fern tattoos. With a relieved grunt, he let his hands lazily fall to his sides. It was then that he slipped one under his hoodie to scratch his stomach. She didn’t mean to stare at him as long as she did, it just happened.

“Hmm?” he hummed, curious.

“Nothing. Just you. You’re lookin’ more lively already,” she compliments, winking. “Come here.” she motioned for him to come by making a grabbing gesture.

His socked feet carry him to where she stood with her back facing the stove. He then wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace. A benefit of their height difference was that she could nuzzle into his neck. There was always a masculine herbal scent lingering there. It reminded her of the outdoors and home at the same time. She decided to place a sweet kiss to the soft skin beneath his ear. That spot was enough to make him turn to jello if it was exploited properly.

A shallow sigh left his mouth. “Love you,” he murmured, squeezing her the slightest bit tighter. “Thanks for cookin’.”

“’S all because I love you, sniffles,” she said into his skin, before pulling away.

“Sniffles?” he repeated.

“Mhmm,” her eyes were glimmering with obvious amusement.

He shook his head and let a laugh fall past his lips. A genuine one. It was a bit gravelly. “That works, I guess.”

“I guess it does too,” she agreed.


Make sure to leave a like and follow for more imagines like this one! 💗

It’s been freezing here and I run indoor track (all our practices are outside, though), so I’m just glad I haven’t caught a cold yet. 😂

Thank you to those of you who’ve shown so much support. It means a lot. In no way am I a great writer, but I’m glad I’ve built an audience of people who at least enjoy my imagines to some extent. You guys are the best! ❤

To those of you who follow me on Wattpad, thanks for 16k and counting on my imagines book.

-Nic 🥖

Just a quick vent

So for a couple years now I’ve had this idea for a cartoon. It involves a family who lives in a city full of cryptids, monsters, and aliens, and they go about their day-to-day life dealing with whatever comes their way, whether it be feeling like a social outcast, a problem at work, school drama, etc.

I want to make a bunch of shorts and I storyboarded one out, involving the family dog asking her demon friend why he lost his job. It’s spring break, so I thought I could crank out a barely animated short about it, but noooo, my computer has to be a piece of shit and not work, not letting me use goddamn pen pressure.

And on top of that, people don’t care when I tell them about the idea. My parents think it’s stupid and forget about talking to my brother because of how much of an ass he can be.

Part of me wants to give up. Who’s going to watch the show anyways? It’s not crude enough for mainstream adult audiences, but it deals with mature topics so it can’t be a kids show. (It was never intended to be one.)

I wish I had proper tools to make my dream a reality, and maybe a friend or two to help me. But for now, I’m just gonna kind of wallow in my depression because I’m home alone with nobody to talk to.

A Hard Love Part 2/10

Originally posted by toomuchmuchness

Warnings: Swearing, SMUT

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Y/N - Your name. Y/L/N - Your last name. Y/E/C - Your eye color.

A/N: Reader has telepathy and telekenisis which she uses to help Bucky through his nightmares.

Part 1 II Part 2 II Part 3 II Part 4 II Part 5 II Part 6 II Part 7 II Part 8 II Part 9 II Part 10

After the incident in the training room Steve decided to take Bucky on a small drive to their old neighborhood to clear his head. Bucky wasn’t sure why Steve insisted on doing this, he barely remembered the places Steve was pointing out, and even if he had they had all changed beyond recognition. Bucky was tired and frustrated. He had stupidly lost control of his emotions.
“So you want to talk about it?” Steve looked over at Bucky who shook his head. “Well then I am going to.” Steve huffed “I know what happened today. I’m not stupid. Why don’t you just accept the fact that you have feelings for her, and let yourself be happy for the first time in a long time?” Bucky continued looking out the window, not responding to Steve. Steve continued despite “I feel like if you don’t, you are going to drive yourself crazy with jealousy and do something stupid.”
“I won’t” Bucky responded gruffly. 

Keep reading


I can’t find Simon in the mess hall, but my and Kaylee’s meals are covered, upgraded, and would remain so through the month per his instructions.  It only makes me feel worse.  He has every reason to believe I’m a hypocrite, a liar, some kind of betrayer, and he stays the stand up guy he’s always been.  I barely keep the food down.

After morning lessons I let Kaylee go play with her friends and head out to search for Simon again, before he leaves.  I only find Frank, smoking, with his arm in a sling.  As I get closer an unmistakable stench hits.  “Sure hope that’s medicinal,” I tease.

He smiles.  “Not bad for post-apocalyptic shit.  Want?”

The one or two times I’ve been high were secondhand experiences from those partying around me, but fuck it.  "Sure.”  I puff, start to choke.

“Relax, deep breaths.”  Frank laughs as he takes it back with a shake of his head.  “Fuck, Ien.”

At least my real name isn’t out there.  Usually takes all of three minutes for that sort of thing to spread, but neither man’s leaked it.  “How’s the arm?”  I squeak out before clearing my throat again.

“Fine, gotta week or so for recovery, but only the scar’ll stay.”

“Who’s taking your spot?”

“Damn woman, wing gets clipped and ya wanna put me out to pasture?  Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“I just meant while you’re recovering.”  I should pass his next offer, but I don’t.  I hate the taste, the smell, and I can’t feel the high yet, but I want to.  I want to forget the last twenty-four hours.

“Well…Simon grabbed Arat before he left.”

“He’s already gone?”  I sink.

“Wanted a head-start on those Librarian fuckers.”  Frank’s expression blanks; he snatches the joint and starts to get down on his knees.

I turn.

Lucille’s slung over his shoulder and his giant grin’s in my face.  We stare at each other before he grows dead serious.  “Well?”

With shaky limbs, racing mind, I kneel beside Frank.

“Beautiful…” Negan muses. 

Me?  My kneel?  The weather?  I can feel the high flooding in as paranoia.

“Lookin’ for Simon?” He sneers, too confident.

I examine his boots crushing the dirt, the caked blood and mud, the frayed laces.  My eyes slowly crawl up his pants, the faded knees, the zipper tab sticking out from the crotch.  His belt was worn brown leather, his jacket black with metal details tarnished.  The bulk of his chest, the salt and pepper of his beard, his strong jaw…His lips tick up before our eyes meet once more.  There’s a vicious delight in his look, but I’m not turning away.  I can’t.

“I wanted to offer my services in Frank’s position until he could return.”

“Your fuckin’ services.”

Whatever paranoia I might’ve had dissipates into annoyance.  “My fucking services.”  Just because he’s got me on my knees doesn’t mean he gets to win.

Something dark grows within Negan’s smile.  “I could fuckin’ use your fuckin’ services.”  I don’t move, only wait with jaw locked.  “Well, get the fuck up, I ain’t got all motherfuckin’ day.”

In all my efforts to forget, I did; I forgot I’m not allowed to forget a man like Negan.  Not until he loses interest first.

FINALLY finished a new piece, lol!  Gonna stop there before it gets too long…also I’m only about 90% sure what Negan’s plans are and how things unfold from there, haha!  Also, goddamn was I lucky to find that bottom gif - most were, haha, way too sexual for the circumstance, lol!

Tagging: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @strangersangel9, @dusty-cookie, @dwaynii @kthnxbyeeeee @cemmia @crzcorgi @negans-network @ericuhlorain @imfuckin-gcrazy @angelfuzzy2 @thewalkingdeadfanatic@browneyesandbadjokes @vizhi0n @smuttwd@superwholoki​ @stone-met @trashforwinchesters​…I THINK I remembered everyone this time.  If anyone else wants on the tag list just lemme know.  I’ll also tag this for Negan’s Thirst Squad. 😉

Negan gifs from @mypapawinchester  

Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 Part 9 …I’ll make a masterlist at some point, I swear, lol!

There was a scientist talking to Íþróttaálfurinn, standing far too close, a hand resting on his arm and a private smile gracing her lips. She was flirting: she was very clearly flirting, and worse yet Íþróttaálfurinn seemed to like her flirting. He had his arms folded in that way of his, a smile gracing his own features-

Glanni hissed, and snarled, and paced irritably, and barely stopped himself from going over there and yanking the bitch of a scientist away from his elf right then and there.

Glanni stopped pacing. No no no no. His elf. No no no. He hadn’t just thought that- Íþróttaálfurinn wasn’t his, not in any sense of the word, except maybe his enemy, yes, his enemy, and he hated him. He repeated that to himself. He hated Íþróttaálfurinn, because they were enemies.

All the same, he cast the scientist a glare hot enough to melt steel before turning and stalking away.

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Lets talk in here about Colin O'Donoghue!!!
I don’t know how but he keeps impressing me with he’s acting. That engagement scene, he expresses so much with his eyes and his face that you can easily watch his confusion at first when Emma starts talking, then how he understands what she’s talking about, the you can see how he is debating between telling her what he came to tell her or doing what she wants, and it’s at that moment when you notice that he made his choice, when he sees how happy Emma is and he lets himself go for a moment and he is proposing, and everything is right in the world until it isn’t and he’s hugging her and remembers that he has a secret.
All of theses with barely words is Colin’s craft, and is beautiful to witness.

the group chat

[kvnkeller joined ‘riverdale’s hottest’]

kvnkeller: what is this

thereggiemantle: welcome

kittykatjosie: how could you forget kevin

thereggiemantle: did not! i didn’t know he’s on instagram

kvnkeller: let’s be honest if it wasn’t for ronnie we wouldn’t be friends

vlodge: shh

kvnkeller: what is this for?

vlodge: reggie wants to go out again

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Thomas Jefferson x Reader: The Reynolds Pamphlet

No. No, no, no. This can’t be true. I can’t believe it; I don’t want to believe it.

How could he? This doesn’t make sense. I thought he loved me. I thought he wasn’t like the others.

Your mind spun as these ideas haunted you. The lights around you began to get brighter and the noises get louder. 

The woman looked at you with sympathy in her eyes. That woman. The woman who told you about the Reynolds Pamphlet. The pamphlet, where Thomas Jefferson, your husband, told the country about his affair with Maria Reynolds.

“James, take me home,” you say in barely a whisper to your carriage driver. You don’t want to talk to the man who betrayed your trust, your marriage, but you wanted him to see what he did to you.

The ride to your estate in New York was cold, dreary, and silent. As you watched the people go by, you let your imagination get the best of you as you foresaw the consequences your husband’s actions would bring into your lives. The words whispered behind your back, the political backlash from Thomas’s opponents. And the heartbreak in you, the feeling of a thousand knives in your soul and broken glass in your heart. You couldn’t bear to think about your kids as you pulled up to the house.

James helped you out of the carriage and closed the door behind you as you ran into the entryway. You demanded to know where your husband was and your servants pointed you to his office. You took off down the hall in a flurry. 

“Hey, honey. how was-”

“HOW COULD YOU?!?” you thundered in a storm of tears.

“How could I what?” he replied with a confused look on his face.

“You know. Don’t deny it. I can’t believe you! So just say it to my face.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. Say what?

“Okay, let me spell it out for you: Why did you have an affair with Maria Reynolds?”

“Sweetie, honey, calm down.” he said approaching you. “That wasn’t me, it was Hamilton.” You could see the truth in his eyes. “Who the hell told you that?”

“Some woman on the street.” You sat down on the couch, stunned. “God, how can I be so stupid! She probably thought I was Eliza. Oh poor Eliza!” Thomas sat down next to you. 

“How could I ever think you would do such a thing? I knew it couldn’t be true. I am so sorry for doubting you,” you muttered, beginning to sob.

“Shhhh, shhh, it’s alright. Mistakes happen. But you and I are here now together, aren’t we,” He replied wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face into his chest to muffle the sobbing as he traced circles on your back with his fingers. 

“Thomas?” you say, wiping up your tears.


You stared into his chocolate eyes, creating butterflies in your stomach.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said with a smile.

Faint: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: Can I have a Draco x Reader romance imagine where Draco finds the reader passed out after a match against Hufflepuff and after bringing her to the hospital wing he confesses his love to the unconscious reader but when he isn’t looking she smiles a bit.

Warnings: malnutrition, (when you can’t find any gifs you like so you make your own)


I had barely sat down at the table for breakfast before I feel myself being yanked back up and out of my chair.

“Pansy, wait I haven’t eaten anything yet!” I call to her.

“Well, grab an apple and let’s go! We’ve got to hurry if we want good seats,” she yells, still tugging my arm. I quickly stuff an apple into my pocket and follow her outside. Today was Slytherin’s first match of the season, and they were playing Hufflepuff. Pansy always liked to sit in the front row, to make sure Draco could see her cheering for him while he played. 

We make our way down to the pitch and I feel the cold of the winter setting in with the snow falling around me. I tighten my green and silver scarf around my neck and pull my gloves out of my pockets and onto my stiffening fingers, rubbing the blood flow back into them. 

Pansy and I get to our usual seats in the middle of the front row in Slytherin’s section and sit down, cuddling close for warmth, and I completely forget about my hunger, too distracted by the cold. The match is about to begin, and the Slytherin team makes their way out onto the field. My eyes search their faces until it finds the one I’m looking for. His white-blonde head turns in my direction and we make eye contact, and I see the beginnings of a smile play on his lips. He winks at me and I feel a warmth rush to my cheeks.

The match begins, and Pansy is standing and screaming her head off next to me, cheering for our team (but mostly Draco). I watch the match intently, studying the quickness of each player as they intercept and pass the quaffle between them. There’s so much activity on the field, and it’s starting to make me a little dizzy from watching so closely.

“MALFOY HAS SEEN THE SNITCH, AND HE’S OFF, SUMMERBY CLOSE ON HIS TAIL!” I hear Lee Jordan announce, and my eyes immediately lock on Draco as he flies after the little golden ball. Summerby is close behind him, but Draco’s hand is only inches from the snitch.

“Come on, Draco, you’ve got this,” I mutter under my breath, clenching my fists on the railing in front of me. He gives a final spurt of power and his fist closes around the wings of the ball.


I jump to my feet cheering, too fast and feel my knees buckle. I look up and see Draco staring at me as my vision goes black.

An enormous grin spreads on his face as his hand closes around the wings of the little golden ball. He immediately looks back toward the Slytherin section, eyes searching for (Y/N), wanting to know if she was watching. He sees her get to her feet cheering… but she begins to sway and the look on her face changes from one of exhilaration to one of immense fatigue. Suddenly she’s not standing anymore. He is by her side in an instant.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) are you okay?” Pansy asks, holding her unconscious best friend. Draco swoops in and lands right next to her.

“What happened?!” He asks, fear in his voice.

“I don’t know, she just passed out, and she hit her head on the bench when she fell.”

“Did she eat anything this morning?” Draco yells in Pansy’s face.

“I–I don’t think she did.”

“Take this,” he growls, holding his broom out to her. She takes it from him, as he lifts (Y/N) into his arms. “I’m taking her to the Hospital Wing. MOVE!” He yells at the smaller students around him, and they clear a path for him immediately. Draco carries her all the way to the room and lays her down on the white bed, as he explains what happened to Madam Pomfrey as she tended to her wounds.

“Is it alright if I stay with her?” he asks.

“You have five minutes, Mr. Malfoy. But she needs rest, so if you become a disturbance, I will not hesitate to throw you out,” she explains with a warning look on her face.

“I’ll be quiet,” he promises, as he takes a seat next to (Y/N)’s bed. After a few moments, he slowly reaches towards her delicate hand, picking it up and holding it between his two slightly larger ones.

“For the love of Merlin, (Y/N), please be alright,” he says under his breath, his voice cracking slightly. “I need for you to be alright. I can’t bare this world without you in it… I need you here. I love you, (Y/N).”

“It’s time for you to go now, Mr. Malfoy,” he hears Madam Pomfrey say. He gently places (Y/N)’s hand back on the bed, but before going, he leaves a gentle kiss on her forehead.

And as he turns away, a small, peaceful smile appears on her lips

milcahwaygalaxy  asked:

Souji, truth or truth. If Chizuru were to suddenly display (her apparenly hidden) swordsmanship skills, would you be willing to spar with her?

“Seriously?” snorts Okita. “Don’t make me laugh. She barely knows enough self-defense to get by, and I think Hajime-kun only told her she could come on patrol with us because he felt sorry for her.” He shakes his head. “If she wanted to spar with me, I’d let her try, but there’s no way I’d go easy on her—so I guarantee she’d end up with more bruises than her little demon body can handle.” He gives a lopsided, somewhat unpleasant grin. “And that’s if we’re training with bokuto. If we were using real swords, I’d find out just how fast a demon can heal.” He laughs. “If she lost too much blood and died, that’s what she’d get for getting cocky and challenging me. She’d be smarter to let somebody her own size pick on her first, like Heisuke.”