he looked like someone had just given him the world

catatonicparasomnia  asked:

what's your list of fav bellarke fan fiction????

im currently bitter bc i basically had this finished but tumblr decided to have a glitch and delete it all. anyway, here’s round 2 

cause i got you, and now that’s all that matters by @marauders-groupie

lana is beautiful and so is this fic. i think my tag for it was just a bunch of exclamation points which basically means that i’ll be in love with it forever and never be able to properly use words when talking about it. 

Clarke gets dirt stuck under her nails, Bellamy always keeps books at hand, they are both a mess but somewhere between throwing tomatoes at each other and hiding, they fall in love.

Or: Bellarke in the countryside.

Prompt: Imagine Bellarke in Modern AU. With Sunday brunches on the back porch and whispered I love yous when no one else is listening.

aphelion by @kindclaws

with the possibility of coming across as too much, let me just say that there are few people who have stolen my heart in the degree that Sara has. That being said, even if I didn’t love her to the moon and back, I would still be able to see beautiful talent, and that is definitely something that my dear friend has. So here’s the short summary of my latest obsession of hers: 

It’s been two years since the spaceship Aphelion mysteriously disappeared, its crew branded by the ARK as traitors to be shot on sight. Jake Griffin was on that ship, and with him, a dangerous secret that could change civilized space forever.

Now, Clarke wants some answers - and revenge, if she can get it. Bellamy wants a bigger ship - specifically, Clarke’s. Wells wants to fix the system his father broke. Octavia wants a little fun. Miller wants everyone to stop making poor life choices. Harper wants to kiss the new girl. And Raven? Well, Raven just wants to blow shit up.

The universe won’t know what’s hit it. (Space pirates AU!)

Sent and Delivered by @clarkescrusade

Listen. I love social media aus, nerdy!Bellamy and thirsty!Clarke. Thankfully this fic has a little of all that. It also has adorable fanboy Jas and that’s also a plus for me. This one has stayed with me since the night i read it, so it’s def up there on my faves list. 

Clarke is pretty sure Bellamy is the hottest lyft driver she’s ever had, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s a pretty great conversationalist, too. When she finds out him and Raven used to work together, it feels natural to become friends. She just never thought they’d get along quite so well, or that their lives would come together so easily, or that she’d fall madly in love with him. But that’s life.

aka: a social media au incorporating text messages, snapchats, tweets, and instagrams that definitely no one asked for.

You’re Cool On The Internet, At Least by @prosciuttoe

Once again, SOCIAL MEDIA AU. They meet on facebook and yeah. this is hella cute. I love it. Also, anything Em writes is magic, so please read this and give her the love and adoration she deserves. 

Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person.

Ten minutes later, her phone gives a short, irritated buzz; startling her enough that she jumps.

Biting at the inside of her cheek, she allows herself a quick peek.

Friend request from Bellamy Blake.

Clarke has no idea how she manages to develop a crush on a guy who won’t stop fighting everyone on Facebook, but here they are.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

neither lost nor found by awildthing 

other than social media au, my weakness is modern magic users au. AND THIS IS BEAUTIFUL. 

Bellamy Blake arrives on campus and Clarke’s magic suddenly starts going haywire.

Or, Clarke meets another magic user and teaches him to control his gift–and learns some things along the way.

I Don’t Want To Be Your Friend (i wanna kiss your neck) by @spacexualkids

i love tierney more than i love most people on this god forsaken site. her writing is always like coming home which is way too cheesy even for me. so here. read this summary so i dont become a blubbering mess. 

She finds Bellamy back on that floral couch. They’d moved it into the screened room for the winter, and then back out again once the days grew long and warm. It was becoming another tradition, apparently.

And so was this; him smoking on the sofa, her head on his shoulder, voices low in the early morning while everyone else was asleep and the world felt like it belonged to them, just for the moment.

“Someone had fun,” he teases, flicking at a spot on her neck. Clarke reaches up to feel the tender skin; Glass must have given her a hickey while they were getting carried away.

She flushes, but he’s looking back at the sunrise. “I always have fun,” she reminds him, and he groans.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“This is my favorite part, though,” Clarke says, curling up a little more against him so he’ll put his arm around her for warmth. She’s still kind of drunk, so she’s not sure if she’s making sense, but she trusts that he’ll get it. Bellamy always seems to understand what she means. “Just–us. It’s my favorite.”

Bellamy stubs out his cigarette and leans back against her. “Mine too.”

That’s all I have time for tonight, but I do have a longer one in my drafts that I plan on finishing and publishing soon. 

I will also use this to shamelessly self promo - I’m taking requests for the next two weeks bc HOLIDAYS! no more teaching for me for two weeks and that is glorious. 

so pls send in any and all prompts you want filled by yours truly

anonymous asked:

I love seeing people gush over why they love Destiel, so may I ask, why do you love Destiel?

Well - for the long version, I invite you to read my fics, because that’s where I put everything that I love about both Dean and Cas and also the way they are together and all those things that make my heart go weeeeeeee, and as for the short version -

Narratively speaking, I love how unhurriedly and organically that love between them grew, because most of the time, TV and movie romances are forced and they never give you any explanation as to why those two characters would fall for each other, exactly, and you’re just left with this impression that, duh, hot people will automatically pair up and love itself is just about, I don’t know, dropping half a muffin on someone while wearing a darling dress and your hair’s not combed but you still look dropdead gorgeous ‘cause you’re Emma Stone or some shit (but of course, you don’t know you’re cute, that’s what matters) and the guy brushes off the crumbs and he’s rude about it but you can’t stop thinking about him all day ‘cause of course, he’s Ryan bloody Gosling and BAM, that’s how the magic happens. And that’s mostly why I don’t like and don’t watch romance stuff - because in my experience, that’s not how love happens, and I consider that way of looking at the world more dangerous than gore and horror (hashtag why are Tarantino movies age-restricted and yet we keep pushing Sparks novels on kids). So, well, I wasn’t expecting a love story in Supernatural at all and I love the fact we didn’t have to suffer though what usually happens and how Dean and Cas just - did it all on their own, in a way, in open rebellion of who they are and the orders they were given and the unforgiving world they live in.

And as for the story itself - it just works, doesn’t it? Even if it wasn’t planned, it’s plain perfect, because Dean - Dean is someone who has (had) no faith, and no self-love at all, and Cas was literally put on his path to invite him to believe and tell him he was special (I think I wrote somewhere that based on that, it doesn’t even matter if Cas looks like Misha Collins - he could have been a green goat and Dean would still have fallen for him). And as for Cas - Dean is what Cas’ longed for his whole life - a way out, and a way towards a deeper part of himself Cas knows is there, but is not sure what to do with. A man afraid of flying and an angel afraid of falling meet in the middle, as the famous tagline goes. And I love how they circled around each other at first, how they learned to trust each other and understand each other and finally love each other - and, most of all, how soft they are with each other - Dean’s been taught never to do that, never to open up, never to be vulnerable, and Cas’ a soldier, he was literally bred for battle, and yet - they look at each other and treat each other with such profound care, it’s heartbreaking to watch. 

And at this point, of course, the problem is sex - not only for the writers and the producers and the money people, because what happens if we make it truly gay, but also for the characters themselves - that’s all there is to it - and that makes it interesting, because sex is never an obstacle in ‘traditional’ stories - no, there it’s mostly falling into bed together and there’s never any problem and they both come right, left and centre, but here - here’s definitely where you see how deeply Christian Supernatural is at its core, because Dean and Cas know they love each other now, that’s textual, and I’m convinced Dean thinks Cas simply doesn’t want him, not like that, and Cas is not sure if he should even offer, because he doesn’t understand sexuality very well, so there’s this tension and shame and uncertainty there which - and this is important, this changes everything - is not the usual American teen comedy nonsense like ‘he’ll think I’m a slut’ and ‘abortions kill your spleen and then you die’ and ‘I respect her too much to put my he-stick inside her’ - nope - this is more similar to those stories Supernatural was modeled on, medieval chansons de geste where sex in not a sin in itself, it’s you having a sense of self that’s the problem, and that’s beautiful and tragic and choke-full of that I’m not good enough for you mud we all wade through, every day, our whole lives, so that’s the other thing I love about Destiel - that it uses the timeless trope of the love story between a human and an immortal being in the best possible way - to reflect upon our humanity, to wonder if we deserve to be saved - a question which despite everything, still resonates with us, because that’s who we still are - a breed of apes who randomly became something more and basically spent its entire time span on this Earth prodding in awe and terror at the question why me.

quasar02 replied to your post “Probably a TAD late as I just got home from work not long ago and only…”

I gotta say, I am absolutely in love with the concept of traditional “monsters” protecting abused and hurting children and this makes me very happy

It started with me going toward the more celtic side of mythology for the werewolves, which were the myths I was raised with. It was strange to me growing up when the popular media that had werewolves in it always showed them as violent and unpredictable, because werewolf myths in Scotland were more…kind. They fed starving families, they were the guardians of lost and orphaned children. 

They were still part wolf and could rip you apart when necessary, but they were first and primarily guardians. 

So while I was writing Nathan and his cultural sense of identity and personality and I started on Vlad, I knew I had an idea for what I wanted him to be. I wanted him to be the archetype vampire, really attractive and smooth on the surface, but I also didn’t want to make him a monster underneath it with uncontrollable urges because ugh, ugh, no. So instead I tried to think about what I’d do if I had eternity yawning out in front of me, and well…lets just say it’s a good thing eternity does not yawn out in front of me. But I also tried to take into consideration the history I had given him, and the family dynamic he has, and when I thought about that, it really just made sense for someone like Vlad to look at the suffering in the world and go “No” and try to fix it in small ways, ways which no one else ever seems to consider. 

He’s not brave like Nathan (he thinks) he’s not a soldier, he doesn’t fight, and he’s not got the sheer raw power Ursula has or her resilience, but he can make a difference, he can make subtle changes that make the lives of those around them—however brief—a little bit better. He pushes for social reform, he throws himself into research, he takes an active interest in medicine, and when someone says “but that’ll take decades!” he just smiles and says “I’ve got the time.”

anonymous asked:

since you're taking prompts... you should write something scandalous with retired figure skater turned lit professor viktor >:)c (- ren xoxo)

i love this prompt, @renaissancefic​! shout out to @lookatthesetreasures​ for helping me with euro lit & my friend camille for the setting.

There had been plenty of speculations on what would come after figure skating for the Living Legend, Viktor Nikiforov. The most popular and commonly-agreed upon outcome was that he’d continue coaching, taking up the mantle left by his coach, Yakov Feltsman in Yubileyny Sports Palace; the younger skaters had been excited at the prospect of studying under him, especially now that his husband had retired, too. Others enumerated ideal jobs for someone as young as Viktor, barely even in his mid-thirties: modeling, acting, and a few even guessed that he would get into politics.

Viktor had the spotlight on him ever since his junior days, up until he’d gone up to the senior division, but less so. He had, of course, consistently stood on the podium with less consistent skaters, but, before his five-year golden streak at the age of twenty-two, nobody really knew what he did outside of competitive skating, besides taking care of his poodle. No one knew, besides Yakov and Lilia, that he’d taken on an undergraduate degree in comparative literature, focusing on European literature. So when Viktor and Yuuri disappeared from figure skating, hardly on any magazines and shows either as models or actors, the last place they’d expect to find the couple was in a coastal city in Wales. Viktor had breezed through his master’s and was now on his way to a doctorate, while Yuuri juggled his own study and teaching children in a small ice-skating rink that was a thirty minute walk from their rented home.

Viktor had to admit, the solitude offered by anonymity was comforting. He grazed the halls of the Arts and Letters building of the university and caught less than five turning heads. With each step, he appreciated the high, pointed arches of the windows leading up to the beautiful vaulted ceiling. The place usually looked intimidating and imposing, but the stained glass colored the rough-hewn stone walls and columns so brightly in the morning, which gave his path to his first class a sort of airy and delicate feel that reminded him of stepping onto the ice for a performance.

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Best Hurt/Comfort & Angst Fanfiction


She finds Bellamy back on that floral couch. They’d moved it into the screened room for the winter, and then back out again once the days grew long and warm. It was becoming another tradition, apparently.
And so was this; him smoking on the sofa, her head on his shoulder, voices low in the early morning while everyone else was asleep and the world felt like it belonged to them, just for the moment.
“Someone had fun,” he teases, flicking at a spot on her neck. Clarke reaches up to feel the tender skin; Glass must have given her a hickey while they were getting carried away.
She flushes, but he’s looking back at the sunrise. “I always have fun,” she reminds him, and he groans.
“Yeah, I remember.”

NEVER SAY NEVER by Selflessbellamy @selflessbellamy

On the subway, Clarke snaps a Polaroid of him before he can block the lens with his hand: His head is leant back, looking up and probably wishing that the top of the train was made of glass so he could see the star-speckled sky — he looks relaxed, dreamlike, as the soft orange light falls on his face.
She loves this one.
“Don’t you have enough photos of me?” he asks with no real heat. In fact, his voice is marked by a delicacy that makes her heart flutter.
“You know I don’t. I’m going to plaster them on my ceiling.”

(When Clarke’s six years old, Bellamy’s the boy in the tree, her best friend. At eighteen, she’s not sure that she can call him that anymore, and of course that’s when everything crumbles.)

HOW YOU STAY ALIVE by LaughingSenselessly @wellsjahasghost

“You and him will live again by my hand. But whether you fall in love again is entirely up to you.”

Reincarnation AU. Nine lifetimes where Clarke and Bellamy meet again, and again, and again.

Not Safe For My Heart [Part 1]

Originally posted by peruni

Chapter One:

Have you ever met someone and knew instinctively they were going to ruin your life?  Where just looking at them you can see the impending doom looming closer and closer.  I did the day I met him.  He looked like trouble and he was, but he was also so damn charming.  Charming, sweet, and handsome.  He was the kind of handsome that made your insides shiver from nervousness and had you stuttering over yourself like a silly little middle school girl with a puppy dog crush.

I would have given him the world had he asked, but instead, he broke my heart. That lying, no good, cheating, asshole broke my heart and that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is, I let him.  It wasn’t the first time he cheated on me.  It was the fifth.  It wasn’t the first time he degraded me. That happened every day since our second month together.  It wasn’t his first time raising his voice nor his fist.  Although he never actually hit me, I was always fixing a dent in my wall or cleaning up the mess from whatever broke this time.  I let him treat me like crap.  I let him walk all over me.

…I don’t even know why.

What I did know was the feeling of some random guy’s lips on my neck and his wandering hands that felt like heaven.  The feeling of his want pressed up against my backside as he swayed us to the beat was enticing and the fuzzy warmth of alcohol running through my system was a welcome feeling. I didn’t care about propriety that night.  I didn’t care at all about my resolve to never give myself to someone I didn’t know for sure I loved.  I didn’t care if letting this random, handsome man’s hands wander and grope made me look like a slut or a whore.  I just didn’t care.

I wanted to be loved even if it was just for one night.

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Dandelions: Phillip x Reader

A/n: This is kinda sad, fair warning. I have no idea if this is historically accurate, but if it’s not, too bad. I changed some stuff to fit the scene. Also there had better be only minimal mistakes because I don’t wanna proofread this, and it is looooong. Anyways, enjoy!

Though most people were certain that you couldn’t do it, you wanted to be the first woman to graduate from King’s College. It wouldn’t be easy, but you were a smart girl. Kind, caring, and incredibly determined to get what you want, those who knew you fully believed that you could do it. Especially the family you spent the most time with, the Hamiltons.

Alexander was always available to help you write or give you tips on speaking in front of a group, especially if you were going to be arguing. Eliza was like a second mother to you, and was always there to chat, offer up advice, or even just do something as simple as help you choose a dress. In addition to that, all the kids of the Hamilton household adored you, but you were closest to Phillip, the oldest.

When the two of you were younger, your parents would tease you both because even though Phillip was only 9 and you were only 8, it was clear how much Phillip liked you. He was always chasing you around, trying to give you dandelion bouquets and kisses on the cheek. You would scream and run away. Your parents would smile and shake their heads while the Hamiltons would joke about planning a wedding. 

But that was a long time ago. 10 years, in fact. The two of you were still incredibly close, but there wasn’t time for silly, make-believe romances any more. With Phillip about to graduate, and you trying to start college, there was too much to think about.

After knocking on the front door and chatting happily with Eliza for a few minutes, you walked into Phillip’s room without knocking first.

“Yes, come in, (y/n), no need to knock,” he said, cracking a smile.

“Philliiiiiip,” you sang. “Let’s run away from everyone and live on a corn farm! Then no one would ever discourage us from our passions!”

He laughed. “I hate to break this to you, but corn farming is not my passion. What gave you the idea?”

“Some stupid guy, thought he could get away with saying that women couldn’t go to college. He might have been a grown man, but he was acting like a child!”

“Wait, really?” Phillip was suddenly serious. “Who was it? I swear, (y/n), if I could find this guy, I would kick his ass for you, if you’ll forgive the language.”

“I don’t know who he was,” you replied. “But that’s sweet of you, Phillip. You wouldn’t have to, though. I already gave him a bloody nose.”

“You did?!”

You laughed. “Of course not! But I could have if I truly wanted to, don’t look so surprised!”

He put his arm around you, and you leaned on his shoulder. It wasn’t a romantic gesture; you were just this friendly with each other.

“But if you see the jerk,” Phillip said, “Point him out to me. I’ll put him in his place!”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” you teased. He grinned.

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

You sat up and he said, “Hey, we’ve got a Fourth of July speaker at the college today! We’re probably already late, but if you want, we can go listen to what he has to say. You in?”

“Of course, Phillip!” He offered you his hand, and you took it. Before the two of you left, he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. 

“Bye, Ma,” he said. “We’ll be back later!”

“Of course, but before you go, may I speak to (y/n)?”

“Sure,” Phillip said. “I’ll be outside, take your time!”

After he left, Eliza smiled. Her eyes were sparkling. “Perhaps you aren’t aware of this, but Phillip truly does fancy you.”

“Wh-what? He does?” Your cheeks were pink at the thought. Certainly, he did like you when you were a child, but he was just your friend! Wasn’t he?

“He’s moved on from his childhood fantasies,” she continued, "and he’s beginning to see you as the beautiful young woman you’ve become.“ She paused. “I know, this is a bit out of the blue, but I wanted to tell you in advance in case he does something bold. He gets his confidence from his father….”

“Oh, I know,” you said, giggling. But then you stopped, briefly remembering what had happened. Alexander and Eliza didn’t get into horrible fights, and they didn’t try to avoid each other, but it was clear that their relationship was a rocky one. You had been there to see Eliza break down and cry after The Reynolds Pamphlet was published. It hurt your heart to see her like that.

“Forgive me for asking, dear, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to, but… do you fancy Phillip?”

You blushed. “Of course I do, Mrs. Hamilton. He’s my closest friend, and I’ve fancied him for a long time.”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful! One Hamilton relationship burned to the ground, but perhaps another one can come through!

You laughed awkwardly, and then said, "I suppose I had ought to go, Mrs. Hamilton. Phillip is waiting for me.”

“Yes, of course,” Eliza said. “Keep him out of trouble for me!”

Phillip was standing outside the house with his hands behind his back. “There you are! What did Ma want?”

“Oh, just, you know. Lady stuff.”

“Oh.” He held something out to you. “Hey, remember?”

It was a dandelion. You smiled at the memory of when he’d try to give you them, and then tuck them in your hair. “How could I ever forget?” You took it and tucked it behind your ear.

You walked quietly for a few minutes, and then Phillip said, completely suddenly, “I like you a lot, (y/n). I have for a long time, and I was wondering if you…”

“….if I felt the same about you?”

He nodded, embarrassed. 

“I do, actually. I like you very much…”

He looked like he had just been given the world. “You do! That’s really wonderful!” His hand found is way to yours, and your fingers intertwined.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have more to offer than a dandelion…”

“Oh, Phillip,” you sighed happily. “I love the dandelions. They-” But you stopped. The man speaking was someone you recognized. It was the man from earlier, who had said that women couldn’t make it through school!

“Phillip, that’s him,” you whispered. “The man I told you about.” His hand got tighter around hers, and she put her free hand on his shoulder. "Don’t. I know you want to stand up for me, but I don’t want you to start any trouble.“

"I won’t,” he said with his teeth clenched. “But if he thinks for a second that my (y/n) can’t make it, He’s got another thing coming.”

“It’s going to be fine,” you insisted, but you could only focus on the fact that he called you ‘his.’

“Wait a second…. That’s my FATHER He’s talking about!!”

And sure enough, when you listened, you heard him talk about Alexander Hamilton, and The Reynolds Pamphlet. These were not kind words being said. You started to get angry too, but held Phillip back before he could do anything to hurt the man.

“Let’s cool down at home,” you suggested. He nodded, but then turned around. “Wait, I gotta get the name of that guy. Ladies!” He stopped two young women. “Who was that guy, talking about my father?”

“That was Mr. George Eacker,” one of them said. “He’s going to see a play when he gets done here.”

“Actually, I think he’s just finishing up,” the other one added. “The theater is only a couple of blocks away, if you’re looking to go there." 

"Thanks ladies,” he said, flashing them a grin. Then he put his arm around you, led you away, and called back, “Hope you weren’t looking! I’m a taken man!”

“Phillip, was that necessary?”

“Yes! They were definitely looking at me. The ladies just love me. Also I’ve got a ton of energy and rage. So Let’s get to that theater before I rip someone’s heart out.”

“I think you’ve already got mine,” you murmured.

*****About an hour later

“A duel? Are you sure about this? You could get hurt. Or even killed!”

“Relax, (y/n), I’ll be okay. My pop will know what to do. And Ma is out right now, so it’s a good time to talk to him.”

You sighed loudly to show that you didn’t approve, but he took your hand and pulled you into Mr. Hamilton’s office.

“Pops! I need advice!” He said.

Alexander turned around tiredly. “Sure son, what is it?”

“This guy, George? He was saying some real shit about you! I doubt you would have let it slide.”

“Phillip definitely wouldn’t, sir,” you added.

“What do I do, Pops?” Phillip asked frantically. It’s not like the subject was covered in boarding school, after all.

“Listen, you two,” Alexander said. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Take your pistol, and when the time comes to shoot, aim for the sky. That’ll put an end to the whole affair.”

“But what if-”

“He won’t shoot,” Alexander said. “Not of he’s a man of honor. This is your best shot. I’ll want (y/n) there to make sure you know what to do.” He glanced at you. “As long as you don’t mind, of course?”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Someone’s gotta look out for him, or else who knows what he would do?”

Alexander laughed. “That’s true. Just remember, my son….” He pulled Phillip into a hug. “Whatever you do, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, pops…..” He emerged from the hug with his father’s pistol in hand. “I’ll see you after?”

“See you after.”

You and Phillip walked together to the dueling grounds. One of his hands held the gun, and the other held your hand.

“My name is Phillip. I am a poet,” he mumbled. You smiled.

“I remember when you wrote that. It was your ninth birthday, wasn’t it?”

He grinned, but he looked nervous. “Yeah. I got into the habit of saying it when I’m a little nervous, or…”

And You stopped him with a kiss. It didn’t last long, but it seemed to fill him with a new energy.

“Gosh, I’ve wanted that forever,” he said.

“Yes, yes, me too,” you said. “Now go, I can see Eacker waiting. I’ll be nearby, I promise.”

He gave a little wave and walked over to where George was standing. You fingered the dandelion in your hair, feeling very proud of Phillip. He was so smart, he’d graduated from King'sCollege, he was protecting his father’s legacy. All those years, he had been a good friend. You loved him so much, and decided that when he finished, you would tell him.

That’s when things completely collapsed.

You were so deep into your thoughts of Phillip, your Phillip, the boy you loved, that you didn’t notice that the counting had begun. You didn’t notice that though Phillip aimed for the sky, George aimed for his chest.

You didn’t notice that George was pulling the trigger on ‘7’ until the bullet was already fired.

But the second you heard the gunshot, things seemed to slow down. Time went at the speed of molasses. Somehow, you weren’t able to react. All you could do was scream.

“Shit, I gotta leave,” George muttered, turning on his heal and vacating the scene.

“NO! GET BACK HERE! YOU SHOT HIM!” But your cries did nothing. He was gone.

Phillip. You ran to him, and the doctor was already getting him to a safer place.

“Where was he shot?!” You cried. “Is he going to live?!”

The doctor sighed. “I’ll do what I can, miss, I’m moving as quickly as possible. But He’s flooding a lot of blood-”

“Just go!!”

If the doctor was surprised to be yelled at by a woman, he said nothing. Finally, Phillip was lying down with pressure applied to his gunshot wound.

You leaned over him, with tears in your eyes. “Phillip… what happened?”

He chuckled weakly. “I think I was shot.”

You managed to laugh between your tears. “I see. Don’t worry, your parents will be here, I’m sure, and I’m here, I’m here…”

“Hey… (y/n)? I’m so sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together. It’s terrible. I really love you, ya know?”

“I love you too, Phillip, more than anything! Don’t talk like that, we will be together, you’ll get better!” You pulled the dandelion out of your hair and placed it in his hand. “Just hold onto this, okay? You’ll get better, I just know it, please stay alive…..”

You heard Alexander’s cried from the next room. “Where is my son?!”

“I have to go, Phillip, but your dad is here, soon your mum will be too.” You kissed him, longer than you did before the duel, and walked away quickly. You didn’t want him to see you crying.

“He’ll get better,” you whispered. “He’s going to be okay.”

But only a few minutes later, you heard Eliza’s screams, and knew, with a horrible, heavy feeling, that you were wrong.

You ran to the Hamiltons as fast as you could, but nothing you did could have fixed it.

Phillip was dead.

The Hamiltons held each other and you, and it felt like the tears the three of you shed could have filled up an ocean.

***A few months later***

You were walking through the cemetery, holding something in your hands. Anyone who saw you gave you a funny look, since you were talking to yourself, but if they knew what was happening, they would have had pity.

“…and I’ve made it,” you said. “I made it to college, I’m doing well. George Eacker was wrong, and I’m proving that, and I think you’d be proud of me.”

You stopped at his gravestone. A tear fell from your cheek, and you placed what was in your hands on the grass beside his grave.

A bouquet of dandelions.

“I love you, Phillip. I always will, even if you’re not here. I’ll see you again someday, I promise.”

You kissed your fingers, touched the stone, and walked away slowly.

Everyday, you missed him. But you went to classes as often as you could. You wanted him to be proud of you.

Something in the way the dandelion swayed in the breeze as you walked by told you that he was smiling at you from the other side.

Fight Song

Title : Fight Song

Pairing : Sam X Reader

Word Count : 3,168

Prompt : You have always been a hunter, and gosh darn-it, you were one of the very best despite your chronic disease. You had been working with the boys for months now, but when a shapeshifter takes on your body and all the complications that come with it, Sam goes into an over-protective mode that you don’t particularly enjoy. Song Fight Song by Rachel Platten.

Dedication : @adream78 <3 you girl! Keep being an inspiration!!

“You weren’t this ugly when you asked me out…” You ground out, your teeth clenched in pain as you scrambled to pry the man’s fingers from your throat. You looked up into the golden flecked eyes, puffing as you struggled for air.

“Oh come on now, sweet heart,” The charming, velvet voice rasped out, a handsome smirk on his lips. “You know you love this face.”

“Yeah.” You coughed with a groan as your vision began to waver from lack of air as he choked you out. You clawed at the fingers that you knew so well, the calloused hands were always admired by you most of all. You loved them. They were lovely hands, really.

Sam had the best looking hands in the world, and you weren’t just saying that. Literally everything about him was freaking gorgeous.

You probably would have forgotten you needed to shoot him in the face if he wasn’t reminding you by choking you to death. It was the little reminders that you really appreciated. But at least this shapeshifter had been a little considerate. After all, he had given you an opportunity to slap the crap out of someone who looked like an identical copy of your boyfriend.

“I love the face,” You hissed out, your fingers clawing behind your back. “But it doesn’t mean I won’t stab it.” The shapeshifter with Sam’s face’s eyes widened in shock as you swung up the silver blade you kept in your boot. The knife hit the creature in the chest, causing its eyes to glow white in the light as it let out a groan of death. The weight of the shapeshifter suddenly weighed down on you and you let out a grunt of frustration as you shoved its body aside.

“Y/N! Look out!” You whipped around a second too late, as a new arm wound around your neck, yanking you around, only to have a gun pressed into your temple. You grit your teeth, frustrated at yourself. You really should have seen that coming…

Your eyes flickered up to see Sam and Dean standing at full alert in the doorway, blood spattered across their features, their eyes wide and full of protective rage. Sam’s face was full of quite rage as he took a half-step toward you.

“Ah-ah-ah…” You heard an achingly familiar voice purr in your ear. You heard the gun cock in your ear as the shapeshift behind you tapped the barrel against your skull lightly. You didn’t need to turn around to see that the shapeshifter had morphed into one person that you really didn’t want to have to fight today; yourself. “Take it easy there, Sam. You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself now would you?”

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Pregnancy Series #25 ~ Talking to His Mum/Family

Niall (your pov) ~ “Come on Theo, I want to see on of those kicks like at your game last weekend!” Greg yelled from where he stood at the barbecue. Theo set the ball on the ground a few meters in front of him and stepped backward. You smiled, watching as the boy began to run forward towards the football. You watched in awe as the ball was sent flying directly into the upper corner of the net Niall had bough him for his birthday last year. He began cheering and ran towards Spud, lying down on the ground to let the dog lick his face.

“I’ll send that to Niall,” Denise said from beside you. You were sat at the patio table in their backyard, with little Evie pulling herself up with her small hands on your knees. You had come to pick up Spud, but Theo had grown attached to him and begged you to stay for ‘just a bit longer,’ which was approaching the two hour mark. 

“Yeah, he’ll be showing everyone out there what his nephew can do,” you laughed, handing Evie another banana flavored cereal puff. 

“Soon he’ll be doing that with this little one,” Denise said, smoothing your dress over your growing belly. “The two of them will be chasing each other around the yard in no time.” 

You nodded, staring off at the clouds which hid the mid-afternoon sun from your sight. The scent of Greg’s cooking filled the yard, Theo’s cheers and yells were heard each time he kicked the ball, and Evie’s little gurgles were just audible over your’s and Denise’s voices. You couldn’t wait to have lazy days like this one with Niall and your children. 

“Mummy! I’m hungry!” Theo yelled. He was lying down on the grass, the July sun finally peeking out from behind the clouds and soaking his skin. 

“Dad’s cooking now, be patient,” Denise said, sighing. You laughed as she rolled her eyes. He began crawling around on the grass with Spud barking excitedly thinking Theo was playing. The two made their way to the table, and Theo stood up. 

“Aunty Y/N?” he said, and you pulled him onto your lap. He squirmed around your belly before settling on your knee with his small torso pressed against your bump. 

“What bud?” you replied, ruffling his hair a bit. 

“When will you be back?” His big blue eyes looked up at your sadly. You pinched his chubby baby cheeks that never went away with a frown on your own face.

“Soon, why?” 

“You just got here, and you have to leave the same day. I missed you. I’m going to miss Spud. And when is Uncle Niall coming back?” You smiled down at your nephew sympathetically. You may not have been if his life for all six of his years, but both Denise and Greg swore that he loved you nearly as much as Niall. There was no competing with Niall, so you were happy with that. Theo and Niall had some sort of special bond that you were nervous Niall would neglect when your baby came. Theo has always had Niall: the cool uncle who had a lot of money, was good at football, and had no kids to compete with. 

“I promise he’ll be here for your birthday. He told me so,” you told the boy. He held out his small pinky finger for you to lock yours with, and you did, saying, “I swear on it.” 

“Good! Can you bring Spud, too?” you nodded and watched him run off towards the football net. 

“You’re going to be an amazing mother, sweetheart,” Denise said, patting your cheek in a loving way. You smiled, muttering a ‘thank you’ and went back to watching your nephew. “You know, when we first had Theo, the first thing Niall said was ‘I can’t wait for my own.’ I’ll never forget that, hearing my 19 year old brother-in-law, who was busy touring the world and living the life, say he wanted kids. I think he had the career he dreamed for, but you’ve given him the life he needed.”

I just wish his mother had realized that. I’ve gotten to know you, the real Y/N, over these past years. She’s so wrong; everything she said about you was so wrong. I hope for someone like you to come into Theo’s life when we get to that time. She’s so stupid for not realizing what you’ve done for Niall. Just know, we love you.”

You looked at her with one of the biggest smiles. You couldn’t help the tears from falling. You were always scared that Niall’s family would all realize Maura was right- which she absolutely wasn’t. But the thought was always in the back of your mind when you were around them. You quickly wiped your tears away, and looked back to the yard. 

“I think a dog is in order,” Denise said, breaking the silence that had come upon the yard since her moving speech. You laughed, and knew exactly what you would be getting Theo for his birthday next month. 

Zayn (your pov) ~ Having a day without nausea or pain in your back and feet was a blessing. Zayn took you, his mum, and his two younger sisters out for a late lunch just outside the city where hopefully there would be less paparazzi. He was trying so hard to redeem himself, though you had already forgiven him. You had told him so, but he continued to pamper you and do everything he could to keep you happy. You couldn’t lie- you loved it. You did feel bad that he was working himself to the ground for you. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Trisha asked, rubbing your back gently when the food came. You squirmed on the pillow that Zayn had brought along to ensure you would stay comfortable. You took a deep breath, trying to fight the sudden wave of nausea that had swept over you.

“Just the smell,” you said, nodding towards Safaa’s dish of lamb kababs. She quickly pulled the dish away, noticing your pale complexion. Trisha gave you a small smile and pulled you up to your feet. Zayn was off somewhere, like the bathroom of having a smoke, but you wished he was with you. Your mother-in-law led you out of the cafe and draped her sweater over your shoulders. 

“Fresh air might help,” she said sweetly. You sat down on the street bench and closed your eyes. Your nausea began to pass, relief washing over you. Trisha reached over and rubbed your arm comfortingly over her knit sweater, smiling when she saw the color had begun to return to your cheeks. 

“I had awful morning sickness when I was pregnant with Safaa,” she told you, placing her hand over your belly. You giggled when the baby kicked, definitely feeling better now that you were away from the many smells of the restaurant. “But nothing could beat what you’re going through? It never stopped, I guess?”

“No, ever since the first few weeks. I’m not made for pregnancy, I guess,” you said, sighing. You smoothed your t-shirt over your rounded stomach, frowning. “I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I get awfully dizzy. My back hurts so bad sometimes.”

“Have you talked to your doctor?” she asked, looking at you worriedly. You nodded, quickly glancing into the restaurant through the windows to see your Zayn, Safaa, and Waliyha playfully hitting each other and goofing off. You loved seeing Zayn happy, and you hoped he would wear the same smile he is now when he held your baby. 

“She says it’s just my body’s way of dealing with the baby. There’s really no medication she could give me that didn’t come with a chance of harming the baby,” you said, sighing once again. “But I don’t mind, somehow. I just love feeling the baby move, you know?”

She nodded, smiling wide at you. “Zayn’s been beyond perfect. You know, we had those rough few months at the beginning, but everything is alright now,” you assured her. 

“I’m glad you’re happy. The both of you,” she said, and stood up to help you to your feet. You turned and looked at Zayn, who looked back quizzically. He had missed you almost being sick, so he was probably insure as to why you were outside when it was cold. You smiled and gave him a thumbs up before walking past the restaurant and going into a small store the next door over with his mother.

Liam (your pov) ~ “Sweetheart?” You heard Liam call. You continued putting your pajamas on while you answered back to him, telling him that you were in the bedroom. He came in moments later, his phone pressed to his chest. He reached out and handed it to you, “It’s mum.”

“Why didn’t she just call me?” you asked, now putting the phone to your chest. He shrugged, and walked to sit on the bed.

“She said she tried, but you didn’t answer. Go talk- she’s been dying to talk to you.” You smiled at him, and walked out of the room. 

“Hello?” you said as you put the phone to your ear. 

“Oh, Y/N! Love, how are you? You well?” Karen asked, her voice almost comforting to you in a way. You smiled and sat down on the couch in the lounge room, pulling a blanket over your legs. 

“I’m good, and you?”

“Oh, the usual. I called to talk about you, not me. So, are you and Liam ready yet?” You could almost hear the smirk in her voice, and you laughed. Actually, you and Liam were almost set. The nursery was done, and the changing table was overflowing with diapers you had stocked up on. 

“Pretty close. We just need to buy some last minute things, but besides that, the only thing we’re missing is the baby!” you said, making her laugh. 

“What about you, dear, are you ready for this?” With her question, you suddenly realized that, maybe, you weren’t. You were going to be a mother in a few weeks, and there was nothing to prepare you mentally. You could read all the books and look at all the websites in the world, but you would still be unprepared. Your body wasn’t changing and preparing you physically. A baby would just be handed to you and that was it. 

“No, I’m not. I- I- I-” you stuttered, fear completely taking over. You eyes welled up and the tears spilled over. “I’m not ready.”

“Y/N? Oh, dear. Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. There’s nothing to worry about. Y/N, please?” Even with her pleas, there was no way to get those thoughts out of your head. The fear was real, and you were terrified. Suddenly, you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. What if this… and what if that… All these questions were running through your mind, scaring you half to death. 

“You’re going to be an amazing mother, no doubt in my mind. It was stupid of me to ask that. Of course you’re ready. You’ve been ready for as long as I can remember. Everything will work out, I promise. Please, Y/N, trust me. You’re going to be the best mother- Liam thinks so too. Darling, don’t worry,” she said, calming you down a bit. Of course, you were smarter than to get yourself into a situation you wouldn’t be able to handle, but there would always be doubts. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” you began, sniffling again. 

“No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have scarred you like that. But every mother goes through this. I know, I went through the same thing with every pregnancy. It’s normal, sweetheart.” You swiped the back of your hand under your nose, wiping away the snot that had accumulated. You dried your eyes with the blanket. 

“I feel so stupid for crying,” you sighed. 

“No, no, no! You shouldn’t, it’s normal. Please don’t beat yourself up about this,” she told you. You nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see you for a moment. You agreed, and continued to talk to Karen about everything and anything, until you hung up and snuggled into Liam’s sleeping frame. 

Harry (your pov) ~ When you returned from your vacation in the states, Anne and Robin, along with baby Felix, were coming to visit. It was a bit much for you, since you were so far along and rather uncomfortable, but Harry assured you that his mum and step-father would carry their own weight. Plus it was only for a few days while Gemma and her husband got some private time in France. 

“Where is she?” Anne said, walking into your flat, right past Harry. She had handed her bags to her son, and came to find you. Robin walked in with the diaper bag slung over his shoulder and Felix’s baby carrier in his hand. Harry frowned, not happy that his own mum passed right by him with out even a hello. 

“Y/N?” she called, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. You were sitting at the table drinking your afternoon cup of tea and eating a biscuit while reading a baby magazine at the table. As you turned your head to face her, she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. “Oh, look at my darling!” 

“Y/N, you look amazing,” Robin smiled, the baby now in his arms. 

“Doesn’t she look great? Pregnancy is treating you so well, love,” she said, kissing your cheek. You blushed and thanked her, handing your nearly empty mug to Harry to refill. “That’s right, you should be sitting down. Good job Harry.” 

“Finally some recognition,” he muttered. Robin and Anne were now sitting at the kitchen table, Robin flipping through your magazine and Anne gushing about you and your pregnancy. 

“So, not long now. Has my son finished the nursery yet?” she asked. You smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, mum,” he said, defending himself. 

“Wasn’t talking to you, Harry. Y/N, can I see it?” You lead her down the hallway to the room next to your bedroom, and opened the door for her. 

“Harry did it all,” you told her, and she nodded. She looked at every detail of the room: running her hands along the crib railing, feeling the curtains, toying with the stuffed animals.

“I did,” your husband said proudly. 

“So, is everything else organized yet?” she said, not looking up from the baby book titled ‘Goodnight Moon’. You smiled and sat down in the rocker, the soreness in your back and legs from standing those few minutes easing. 

“Well, we have the nursery finished, obviously. Although Y/N keeps making me move the furniture around…” Harry sighed, smirking playfully at you. 

“You should be doing anything she asks you to. What about the name? Pick anything out yet?” her hands were still wandering along the room, touching every surface. 

“Mum, we told you already,” Harry said. 

“No, you didn’t. You picked out a name and didn’t tell me!” she yelled, not too angry, but angry enough to scare Harry. Robin exited the room slowly, muttering something along the lines of ‘you deal with her now’. 

“Cordelia! We’re calling her Cordelia! I’m sorry mum, I thought I told you! I’m sorry, yeah, okay! No! Stop it! Mum!” Harry ran around the room, dodging Anne’s flicks and swats at his head. It was comical, watching the grown man run from his mother. You sat back, laughing and enjoying the show. 

“Okay, you could have at least told me,” she said, rolling her eyes as Harry stuck his tongue out at her. “I just hope you’re both excited.”

“We are,” you told her, “but he’s nervous as anything.” 

She laughed, and you all left the room, shutting the door behind you. “I love you, Harry,” she said, running her finger over his cheek. 

Louis (your pov) ~ “I don’t know how you did this, Jay,” you sighed, slowly lowering yourself onto the couch in your living room. “Twice with twins…I can’t even imagine.”

She sat down beside you and placed her bags on the coffee table. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and sighed leaning back into the cushions. Ernest and Doris could be heard running around in the backyard, yelling and screaming. Doris started crying, and then Daisy began yelling at someone. 

“It won’t get any easier,” She said, rubbing her temples with her fingers. She had her eyes closed and her head back, trying to get a moment of peace. 

“Gee, thanks,” you said sarcastically. Your mother-in-law chuckled, sitting up to get a better look at your swollen face. 

“I’m sorry, babe. It really is worth the struggle. Trust me, when you hold those boys against your chest when their little faces are still blue and they’re wailing, you’ll forget all the pain of birth and pregnancy, and everything you went through will be forgotten,” she said. Her hand was placed on your knee. You had your legs spread to accommodate your large stomach. “I know it’s hard. You’re doing an amazing job dealing with it, too. And it is harder with twins.”

You nodded, tears in your eyes. Your hormones were raging, and her words were so sweet. Tears were inevitable. You ran your hands over your bump, and lifted up your shirt. “I still can’t believe it,” you said smiling. You reached up and ran the side of your index finger under your eye, wiping away the water that had begun to spill. 

“And neither can Louis,” Jay reminded you. A smile formed on her lips, her pride for her son showing. She was so proud that her little boy was becoming a father and having two little boys of his own. Ernest came running into the house, dirt all over his knees. He jumped up onto the couch beside his mother, his bare feet bringing dirt onto the cushion. She pulled him onto her lap, and pushed his dirty blonde hair away from his face. He did look a lot like your husband, despite having different fathers.

“Why don’t you go get your sisters and give Y/N what we brought for her and the babies?” She whispered into his ear. He jumped off her lap, pulling his shorts up in the process. 

“I’m going now. You’re going to love it!” he yelled as he ran up the stairs to the room where they were sleeping for the weekend. Lottie was still with you, and you couldn’t be more thankful for her company. She was a blessing to have. Fizzy dropped in sometimes, too, but she didn’t help around the house like Lottie did. It was a nice surprise, though, to have Louis’ entire family with you for a few days, especially when you were missing him so much. 

Ernie returned, his sisters following close behind him. He had a bag his his small hands, which he placed on your knees. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, giving him a smile. He gave you a peck on the cheek, like a true little gentleman. You began pulling out the paper, handing it off to Phoebe. All the girls were around you, and Ernest was snuggled into your side. You pulled out a large quilt, made of various printed fabrics in every color of the rainbow. You unfolded it, spreading it across your legs. Each piece of cloth looked to be hand-sown, sometimes messily and sometimes as straight as a pencil. You eyes began filling up again as you read the small message written in the corner of the blanket. 

We love you, our two little boys ~ Love, Ernest, Doris, Daisy, Phoebe, Fizzy, Lottie, and Nana’

“It was Ernest’s idea,” Phoebe told you. 

“It was!” he nodded excitedly. 

“They all helped, though,” Jay added. 

“I went to the store with Mummy and I picked out all the stuff. See? I picked that one out, and I put this one on. Daisy showed me how, and I did it by myself-” he rambled. His mouth ran on and on, until Doris finally cut in.

“We get it,” she snapped sassily. She did spend a bit too much time with Lou, maybe. 

“You’re going to be a great uncle, Ernie,” you said, holding the soft quilt in your hands. You leaned down and kissed his forehead, and he beamed up at you. 

randomnessandfantasy  asked:

Nanami finds out that Kamukura is Hinata.

Nanami knows about Izuru

Izuru Kamukura is the Ultimate Hope. 

Izuru Kamukura used to be Hajime Hinata.

And Izuru Kamukura was not her friend no matter how much she wished it.

Through some series of events, Nanami found out about the Ultimate Hope Project. Sometimes she wondered if she was better off knowing. She was worried as to what ever happened to her friend but now that she knew, she couldn’t help but worry even more. She’s met Izuru before but only briefly and he didn’t even give her a second glance. He’s different now. He has talent now.

But more importantly, why did he look so sad now?

If Hinata saw what Izuru would be like, would he have pushed through with the operation? They crammed so many things into his brain that there was no room left for his heart to operate. He didn’t even have emotions anymore since everything was just so boring to him. He finally got his talent, the ultimate talent in fact, and yet he looked so dissatisfied with the world. 

For someone given the title of Ultimate Hope, why did he look so hopeless?

Nanami wondered if she could have prevented this. She remembered how she always told him that there was more to life than talent. And she had thought that he finally understood that. He even told her so. Maybe that’s why her heart was breaking every time she looked at Izuru. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed since Hinata broke his own words. No, that’s not it. This pain was more than that. It was a feeling of loss.

She had lost a precious friend.

Izuru Kamukura is the Ultimate Hope.

Izuru Kamukura used to be Hajime Hinata.

And Izuru Kamukura was not her friend no matter how much she wished it.