heads in the clouds.feet on the ground

Sign Splicers

When your sun unites with your moon, ascendant, and/or dominant element, you get a Sign Splicer. Here are the zodiac’s hybrid breeds…which one are you?

Fire + Fire: The Big Bang. You roar with passion, and your enthusiasm reverberates through the entire universe; it’s impossible to ignore your thundering presence (usually because you are very loud!). You have tremendous visions, and believe anything is possible if you want it bad enough. Never waiting or slowing down, you dream of an action-packed life full of glory and excitement that allows room for your showy self to shine. The amount of faith and hope you have makes you very childlike, and you are convinced that you are destined to be a hero. You rebel against reality of any kind, detest details, and can be quite self-involved.  

Earth + Earth: THE MEAT. You are in control of your senses, and the only thing real to you is your physical body. In fact, you draw your impressive strength from your rock solid core of stability. Nothing has the power to uproot you, as you are firmly fixed to reality. The material realm sustains you, impracticality confuses you, and chaos scares the crap out of you, because you don’t like being out of control. You are the base upon which all others stand, and your dependable, loyal nature makes weaker types rely on you. You can be overly skeptical of the things that supersede your senses, so it is important for you to be open to change.

Air + AirTHE THINKER. A fan favorite, you are civilized and cultured, and always have a bright comment or idea to add to a conversation. Independent in both action and word, you do as you like in order to reach total objectivity, but focusing solely on the intelligence causes you to lose touch with the reality of your humanity (emotions and body). Your observational skills always have you questioning and examining the various things that blow into your life, which makes communication a necessity. Friendly, open-minded, and completely cerebral, you shun any and everything that strikes you as illogical.

Water + Water: THE RAIN. The entire world washes over you, and sometimes drowns you, as you swim in the feelings and moods of everyone; this makes discernment extremely difficult. Highly sensitive with a tender heart and soul, you feel vulnerable 24/7. Instincts and imagination overpower your intellect, causing some irrationality, and this is worsened when you dwell on your emotions. You are a sentimentalist, and have a deep connection to your past, and nostalgia often consumes you. Because you frequently underestimate your own strength, you long for deep relationships that provide you with the stability and safe closeness you crave. 

Fire + Earth: The Bull-Dozer. The epitome of spirit and sense, you’ve got drive and determination to push through life as strongly and as quickly as possible. Your feet are glued to the ground as you strive to bring your wildest dreams to fruition; you see and seize the future with certitude. A commanding ego compels you to take charge, and you never shy away from authority, because you are all muscle, with the stamina to see things through the long haul. You need both freedom and stability, and can be massively creative. You are passionate and powerful, but this can make you a stubborn brute.

Fire + Air: The Rave. A discotheque personality with confidence, wonder and bright ideas help you communicate with ease and enthusiasm, you are charismatic and expressive. Dancing through life, you refuse to limit your potential, and you are always in pursuit of the newest and coolest things to help you grow. You’re always going at the speed of light in search of wide horizons, and you absolutely hate to be bored. Social interactions of all kinds ignite your idealism and imagination, and you always aim to be the center of attention. You need large amounts of freedom and space in your life, and you may be emotionally immature and somewhat superficial. 

Fire + Water: The Fusion. The ultimate blending of male and female, you are aggressive and sensitive, with fluctuating moods and temper flares. Wistful, imaginative, and spirited, you long for independence and flee from any form of containment, yet you yearn for emotional attachment. With an exposed heart, you radiate warmth, and flourish in strong relationships because they allow you to pour out your romanticism without abandon. You are emotionally intense and passionate. Self-control and objectivity are foreign to you, as you prefer to filter things through you directly, without rationality getting in the way. 

Air + Earth: THE MAMMAL. With your head in the clouds and your feet on the ground, you grip reality firmly, and organize and build your abstract ideas into something useful. You are a rational, practical person with a scientific mind that is chock full of innovation, and you desire to improve life on earth. You are a master of the soil, efficient and steady, with enough objectivity and forethought to bring your ideals into fruition. Intellectual, social and supportive, always in tune with your senses, you tend to ignore the mysterious realm of the emotions.  

Air + WaterTHE VAPOR.  Intellect and imagery, you communicate through your creativity, but your rich imagination floats in the sky, as you find bringing your ideas to form to be too strenuous. Both romantic and scientific, your heart and your mind take turns in decision making, and you get inspired by close connections with friends, but feel both a desire for intimacy, and a need for change. You can be incredibly insightful and deeply philosophical, but your detachment is tinted with your subjective view, which makes you a little biased. You yearn for more, and adapt to fit into the world, sometimes intellectualizing your feelings.

Earth + WaterTHE FERTILITY. Your lush imagination lends itself to your creative capabilities to produce lovely fruit. Your emotions and reality-awareness make you a wise and centered problem-solver, and thus, very resourceful. A domestic classicist who is very concerned with creating a nurturing net of safety and security, you make home life a priority. You are caring and quiet, highly romantic and artistic, and apply your sensitivity with determination. But you may be possessive of loved ones, and lack the objectivity that allows you to grow fully.

The Offer

Guyssss I am super excited (and very much nervous) to share this with you all!! I know I haven’t posted anything in a very long time and I am sorry for that, witer’s block hit me heavy last month due to finals… This will most likely be in multiple parts as there is a lot on my mind about this whole thing lol. Also this is a prince!Harry AU and I am not going to pretend I know everything about the royal government, so if I get things wrong I do apologize!! I hope you all enjoy pals (: -M xx.

The offer happened the third time you encountered him.

Ironically, the first encounter was something you wish you avoided. At the time, you were only introduced to half of the royal family you were working for (which of course, made sense; as a family as important as them, most of them don’t have time to waste meeting new employees). Being able to call yourself an assistant to the royal family was an accomplishment to you, so all you wanted to do was make a great impression.

However, when you held a regrettable amount of coffee in a paper cup that was just a little too hot; and with your nerves jittering at your fingertips and toes, all hope of making a good impression was lost as you unintentionally tripped over your own feet–resulting with your face almost hitting the marble floor and the coffee staining a very expensive shirt.

There was quietness once you hit the floor, as when you looked up to see that your coffee spilt on in fact, the prince, which soon made you go into a silent panic. He shook his arms as the liquid began to turn his skin red from its temperature; his eyebrows crinkled as if he was trying to figure out what just happened before his green eyes traveled to your frozen face. 

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Sorry to hear you have that! I hope you enjoy the fic.

Breakfast was one of the most enjoyable times for the paladins. Exhaustion from training was yet to come, so Hunk always made something delicious to have relaxed conversations over before the day began. One particular morning, however, Lance couldn’t help but pick at his food silently, wincing at the harsh meal hall lighting. Fear pricked at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away; there was no way he was going to be fussed over and be the weak link again.

“Is something wrong, buddy?” Hunk asked. Lance jumped and shook his head, pushing his plate away. “No no no no no, I’m great,” he said with a giant smile. He earned a weird look from his friend, but Shiro stood before Hunk could investigate further. “Alright team, let’s head to training.” A series of groans met his words, and as they filed out, no one noticed Lance briefly massaging his temples and shutting his eyes.

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Drive Me Crazy

Bellamy X Reader: Angst, smut

Request? Yes:
(Idk if I sent this in or not lol) could you do a Bellamy X read could be an AU where they were FWB Briefly(but had secret feelings they didn’t share to w/ other) on the ark. when both are on earth he’s a huge player and doesn’t know Y/N is there until he sees her talking to Murphy, causing him to become a lot tougher(over the top mean bc he’s jealous) and it gets too much she runs away causing him to go mad, sending out a search party.(long one plz, your writing is great)

Author’s note: This is extremely long, so please be prepared. It’s not just a smut like most of the other things I write.

Italics=Ground flashback

Bold italics=Ark flashback

You scramble over broken twigs and mossy rocks, nearly tripping over your own feet. A brief glance behind you sends a fresh wave of terror coursing through your veins. The cloud of acid fog moves closer, reaching out in finger-like tendrils that claw over the ground. You turn your head forward again and your legs carry you faster. It won’t get you. You won’t just be another name crossed off the list of delinquents.

You feel like you’ve been running miles. The grounder horn you heard must have been blown an hour ago, at least. Every time you get the nerve to turn, sure that you’ve distanced yourself from the approaching mist, it seems to have gained on you. You’re desperate now, eyes scanning the woods for any place that might just shelter you from the worst of it.

Air whooshes from your lungs as you slam into something solid when your attention is turned. You grip the tree trunk for support as you try to force oxygen back into your bloodstream, but you continue wheezing. Maybe this is it. That’s what the chancellor sent you down here for after all, isn’t it? To die? Your will to keep going dissipates with every painful breath. You’re all but resigned to take what you’re given. This has to be less painful than seeing his face again anyway.

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Be My Serpent {Reader Insert}

Imagine: Finishing a five year college degree is exhausting. Moving into a new town is daunting. Isn’t it good that the local gang leader is happy to lend a hand.

Summary: With no plans for her future, {Y/N} moves to Riverdale in hopes of figuring things out. Alas, the ideas cut short, and so every night she finds herself trudging into the local bar. A couple of weeks go by, and tension rises between herself and a rather attractive older man. One day, she caves, and he gets what he wanted the first day she rolled into town.

Warnings: F/M Smut, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids), Reader is about 23 (no underage activities of any kind)

Request?: Yes! First one too! Anonymous asked for an FPxReader, where she doesn’t really know what to do after college and so moves to Riverdale. As requested, I’ve made it smutty (apologies if it’s crappy, first smut text piece ever). Hope it’s up to your standards, little nonny.

Word Count: 2379

Tag list: Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any/particular posts.

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, credit to the user that made it. The Riverdale characters are not mine, credit to the writers and producers. If you do not like smut, do not read this piece. Let’s say there’s a slight alteration in the plotline of Riverdale, where FP is divorced and so this is not morally wrong whatsoever.

A/N: Sooooooo, my first smut piece. I’m quite happy with this, tbh. But of course, do let me know what you think! I’m always open to criticism, it is the only way I can improve and write what you want to read, after all! And my ask box is always open to new inspirations. Enjoy, my little bookworms 🖤 

Originally posted by riverdalebish

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Flames and Snowflakes

Yours’ one shot series - Ethan Dolan

Warning: smut

Two pairs of snow boots heavily trudged uphill on slick and slushy terrain. The sun was shining brightly in the clouded sky, but beneath it was deceiving- trees without leaves, snow and ice filtering the ground, crisp flakes soaring and swooshing about with the wind. It was cold, the skin on Ethan’s arms erupting in goosebumps under his coat while he held firmly to his snowboard. A smirk lifted on his lips listening to you moan and groan.

“Go to Colorado, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.” You huffed, stepping around a few more boulders, twigs crunching under your feet. “I knew I should’ve tagged along with Grayson, instead.”

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Photographer!Andrew: Self Portraits

(part one) (part two)

  • As Neil and Andrew get to know one another more, Neil finds out a lot about Andrew’s life.
    • Andrew and Aaron were both in foster care as babies and their mom took Aaron back, as she was a recovering drug addict and could not afford to take care of both. 
    • Andrew drifted in and out of bad foster homes before going to juvie, though he won’t necessarily explain why. Neil suspects it was for breaking and entering, or something similar. 
    • after that time, Andrew was sent to live with his mother and brother, where he discovered that his mother was beating his brother and Aaron was addicted to drugs. 
      • Andrew confronts her and tells her he’s been through hell and that she’s the reason why. Tilda relapses, unable to cope with the guilt and overdoses a few days laters. 
    • A few years later, begins intensive therapy and is on medication because he got in a very violent fight with men who were attacking his cousin, Nicky Hemmick. 
    • Andrew got into photography as a way to cope, helped his cousin with various photoshoots and helped his brother work on his journalism career. He protects both of them with his life, though he never likes to show that he actually cares. 
  • Later, after Neil’s photoshoots and Andrew’s won several awards, they are sitting around really discussing Andrew’s life. This is when Neil learns all of the stuff about Andrew. He proposes another photoshoot idea. But this time: self portraits.
    • Andrew thinks this is a bad idea. He doesn’t like to show how he feels but Neil thinks it could be therapeutic and his therapist, Betsy Dobson, also believes it could help. 
  • Andrew admits that while he wants to be able to tell people about how he feels, his voice feels extremely muted. He thinks that people won’t believe him, or that it will seem like he is weak. So this where the concept for the series starts.

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The Labyrinth Chapter 27

Originally posted by baebsaes

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 3.5k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 

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Luna is the kind of Ravenclaw who lives with paint smeared on her fingers, clothes coated in showers of glitter, the ends of her hair matted with brush cleaner and oil paints. 

She is the kind of Ravenclaw who always keeps a book by her side, who will spend hours and hours and hours reading leisurely outside under an apple tree in the crisp autumn air, who loves lending and borrowing and fixing tomes. 

She is the kind of Ravenclaw who will memorize as many bird types as she can, just so she can call to her companions by name. 

She is the kind of Ravenclaw who walks with her head in the clouds and her two feet firmly on the ground, sharp, quick mind processing facts and possibility in one impossible sweep. 

She is the kind of Ravenclaw who will survive torture and dungeons and pain, who will fill her room and life and time with those she loves, whose wisdom delves deep into the inexplicable beauty of life. 

She is a Ravenclaw not despite but because of her leaps in imagination, her unique thinking process, and her loving loyal heart.

Luna Lovegood is the kind of Ravenclaw that makes her house proud.

Personal Involvement

Seth Clearwater imagine requested by anon! “Seth Clearwater one shot where the reader is madly in love with him? They’re imprints and she just loves him so much, and when he gets hurt she freaks out?” Disclaimer, it hurt me to write this. Hope you like it!

The day began as any other would have, save two important details. One, you were in La Push for reasons that would not normally confine you to the reservation, creating an atmospheric cell to cage you into the town, your skin crawling with uncomfortable chills so foreign to this environment. Second, you were without your usual companion, given his preoccupation somewhere too many miles north to fathom, running around on four legs as he pursued one of the chalky beasts from the depths of your darkest nightmares. La Push without its wolves was a strange and empty place indeed. The wind whistled through the trees, as if to illustrate through sound the vacancy you felt like a cavern in your chest, your very bones aching with the absence of your lover. All you could do was wait for his return; there wasn’t a word or promise you could make that would have kept him away from this hunt. This was the leech he’d caught a whiff of while running to your home, the vampire that had stopped at your front door before becoming distracted, they think, by the scent of blood in a house down the street. Seth wasn’t giving up on a chance to rip the monster limb from limb. He put himself in danger and held himself responsible for your close-call with venom-coated fangs.

“He must have smelled me, Y/n, there’s no other reason why he’d stop at your house. I asked Carlisle, he said you didn’t smell particularly appetizing, you’ve got too much of my scent on you to haul anyone to your house. He’s never come our way before, he’s never smelled one of us until now. He must have been curious. He could have killed you because of me,” he concluded, his cheekbones blazing in the afternoon sun, his pack mates calling to him from the edge of the woods, all of them removing their shoes in preparation to phase. A hunting party of seven: Sam, Jared, Jacob, Paul, Embry, Quil, and your Seth. This vamp was serious business, no matter how nonchalantly Seth handled the ordeal. Sam wouldn’t have called for so many participants if he didn’t think it was necessary. “C’mon, we do this all the time. I was born for this, babe. Trust me, I’ll be fine. Just gotta go rip someone’s head off. Stretch the legs, you know? It’s been a while,” at this, he laughed, his brows raised at the memory of his last hunt. He’d been with Edward Cullen at the time. He’d gotten hurt. “It’s going to be fine. Emily will be with you the whole time, and we’ve got Colin and Brady on watch. You’ll be alright.” You rolled your eyes, your fingers clinging to the hem of his shirt, attempting to anchor him to your side to prohibit him from leaving. He smirked at your feeble attempt, his hands covering yours, fingers intertwining. You didn’t miss that this action removed your hold on his clothing.

“Yeah, Seth, I’ll be fine, but you’re going tooth to tooth with something that could kill you. I’m not okay with that. Look, there’s seven of you going. You can afford to sit one out, right? It’s just the one vampire. Stay,” you pleaded, your voice dripping with emotion. He shook his head slowly, his eyes on the sky above, watching the clouds roil overhead. He sighed, his gaze falling to your face, his answer clear in his honest eyes. Damn it.

“I can’t. This is too personal. He was on your doorstep, Y/n. I’m involved when you are. Besides, I kind of want to see the look on his face when he catches my scent.” He paused, his brow furrowing in contemplation. “Is that sadistic?” You shook your head, exhaling until your lungs were deflated entirely. Seth was going, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t help but fear for his safety, despite the cushion his pack provided. You’d heard of worse destruction from greater hunting parties. You didn’t want to see him broken on his brothers’ shoulders. His index finger tilted your face to meet his, his eyes soft, his lips upturned in a gentle smile. God, he looked so innocent like that. It wasn’t helping his case. “Hey, look at me. I’m going to be fine. I’ll be back before you know it… might even make it for dinner.” He grinned, his thumb brushing over your jawline, his lips lowering to yours. He cradled your face as his lips moved against yours, separating only when Jacob called from beyond the trees, requesting he hurry up. Seth grinned, winking as he walked backwards towards the woods, his hand holding yours until the distance was too great to maintain contact. “Time me, if you want. I’ll be back so soon you won’t even have time to miss me.” Likely, you thought, your mind’s voice leaking sarcasm like a busted shower head, I’m already worried sick. Seth’s hand raised in parting, calling a quick “I love you!” before disappearing beyond the treeline, kicking his shoes off as he went. Fine. If he wanted you to time him, you would.

That was three hours ago.

You were wondering the roads until Emily had finished her cooking. You never could stand to stay in her house when Seth was away, despite her warming company. There was nothing she could do to ease your nerves, no sweet songs she could hum, no offers to taste-test her creations, no amount of friendly conversation that could’ve quelled the rampaging pangs of dread pooling in your stomach like acid before a bout of the stomach flu. The sky’s light was beginning to fade, the clouds overhead promising rain within the hour, laden as they were with water. How appropriate. Rain to further dampen your mood. You had no choice but to return to Emily’s place if you had intentions of staying dry. If your turned back now, you could probably make it back before the worst of the rain came pouring down. You pivoted, setting back towards the nook in the woods that held Emily’s little ranch, your eyes on the pavement as you walked, your mind on Seth. There was no way of knowing if he was alright, if he was on his way back or if the situation had grown complicated. You couldn’t call him, and he couldn’t pick up the phone without opposable thumbs. You were left to linger in the silent middle-land of the waiting widow, unsure if her lover would return from battle or not.

Part of your mind kept assuring the rest that everything was going to be okay, that Seth was an experienced fighter with six of his pack mates by his side to help him dismember the vampire. He’d done it before a hundred times, and he’d continue to hunt after he returned home. He’d been born and bred to fight vampires, why shouldn’t he be okay? Because he was taking this hunt personally. He could be over-confident, he could get cocky, he could risk a maneuver if it meant being the one to remove the bloodsucker’s head. You had no grasp of how level-headed he was going to be, even with Sam and Jacob keeping him in line. He was the youngest in the pack, and his head was clouded with obscene thoughts of protecting you from a threat that never truly revealed itself to you. He just had to keep him from returning. Your feet stumbled against the rocky path down Emily’s forgotten street, passing trees too large to share the sky and countless paw prints marking the soil on the pavement’s edge. They didn’t look fresh enough to be the returning hunting party… they must have been Sam’s. A raindrop splattered against the earth, flooding the imprint momentarily before being absorbed by the thirsting soil. You lifted your face to the skies and you were instantly struck by a splattering of rain. The clouds had opened above you sooner than you had expected, weeping a heavy rain onto the ground below, muddying the road leading to Emily’s house. You broke into a run, ducking your head in a instinctual, fruitless attempt to avoid getting wet, your feet sinking into the mossy bank shielding Emily’s home from view, jumping down onto the muddy lawn, dark water splashing onto your calves. You raced to her front door, shaking your shirt as you stepped inside. She was waiting with a towel, which she draped over your shoulders, pecking a maternal kiss to the rain-slick crown of your head.

No sooner had you settled at the table that the frantic voices were heard beyond the walls of Emily’s kitchen, shouting over the rolling thunder. A dish dropped into the sudsy water of the sink as Emily sprinted to the door, her hand fluttering to her mouth to conceal the gaping shock that now adorned her lips. Your heart dropped into the acid your stomach had been storing, boiling your organ until your pulse had to actively fight to be heard over the panic in your mind. You leapt from the table, but Emily’s hand held you back, pressing against your abdomen firmly, her eyes wide on yours.

“Y/n, I need you to stay back, give them room. Stay away from the door,” she commanded you, her voice soft and stern like that of a mother, though the lilt carried in her words betrayed her terror. You struggled against her hand, rushing to the door in time to watch three faceless boys carry another on their shoulders, with Sam in the lead. You mind was alight with a single word of denial, repeated over and over again, bloating to flood your brain entirely until you could think of nothing else. No. Sam ran to hold the door, shouting for Emily to dial Doctor Cullen’s number from the kitchen before moving to secure both of your shoulders in his hands. His body blocked the scene beyond the door from view, but his figure could not silence the shrieks of pain that erupted from the boy’s mouth. Sam’s voice was loud in your ears as he walked you away from the door, Emily’s voice a quiet but strained cry in the background as she spluttered details you could not decipher into her phone.

“Y/n, look at me,” Sam advised, his brow furrowed, his gaze demanding. You cringed with the next peal of agony, closer now. Your eyes flitted to the door, but Sam’s hand held your chin in place, locking your gaze on his. “Look at me. I need you to listen to me carefully now, alright? Seth got hurt. Carlisle’s on his way. I need you to- Y/n!” You struggled free of his grasp, worming your way towards the door, Seth’s name on your lips. The boys hauled him into the kitchen, his arm and legs dangling unnaturally over their shoulders, his face twisted in unthinkable pain. You screamed wordlessly, fighting against Sam’s hold, his hands pinning yours behind your back. Jacob, Jared, and Paul set Seth onto Emily’s kitchen table, his body too long for the expanse of wood, the hand of his one good limb clutching to his right shoulder. Quil let the door slam behind him before rushing to take Jacob’s place by Seth’s side, the former werewolf approaching you, his hands on your shoulders.

“He’s going to be okay, Y/n, trust us. He got grabbed at a wrong angle. It happened to me, and I’m fine. He’s going to be-” Jacob’s words were cut-off by another ear-splitting cry coming from the table. You squirmed against Sam’s hold, barely noticing the look Jacob shot his former leader as his grip loosened enough to free you from his grasp. You rushed to the table, your hands fluttering over Seth’s body, unable to find a plot of skin that did not look ready to burst with the edges of broken bones. He choked, spluttering your name. You wound around the table until you reached his head, his eyes rolling in their sockets before somehow, miraculously, focusing on your face. He whispered your name, his voice weakened and hoarse from screaming, his face drenched in raindrops and shining with sweat. He lifted his hand, reaching outwards to you, your own hand holding tight to his palm. His fingers curled around your hand weakly, his eyes closing and opening slowly, as if even the simple action of blinking was labourious.

“Y/n,” he spluttered, his voice like gravel, almost impossible to hear over the thunder outside. Emily gave a warning of the minutes until Carlisle’s arrival, but you could focus on nothing but Seth’s face, his eyes swimming with tears. Despite his obvious pain, he managed to crack the ghost of a grin across his lips. “I got him. Told you… I would.” With those words, his eyes closed, his eyes rolling from behind his lids. Your breathing was ragged as the wolves cleared the kitchen for the doctor’s supplies, shouting order to call the other pack members, filling them in as they arrived: first Embry, then Colin, and finally Brady. Moments after Brady had stepped through the door, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. A frigid hand ushered yours from Seth’s, moving his working limb to cross his bare chest. You stared up into the golden eyes of Carlisle Cullen, who assured you that he would tend to Seth. With one telling glance at Jacob, you were escorted from the house, too far away to hear the sound of breaking bones, but close enough to listen to Seth’s screaming.

When you returned, Seth was asleep on Emily’s bed, his body bandaged and cast in plaster, his hand hanging limply over the edge of the bed, waiting for yours. When he finally woke from his morphine-induced slumber, you gave him no time to adjust. You fired your questions at him as soon as you saw the sparkle in his irises: how could he have been so reckless? How badly was he hurt? Why did he go? He smiled, rubbing his thumb over the backside of your palm, his words slurred by the amount of painkillers in his system, but clear enough for you to understand.

“Had to make sure you were safe. He came after you. I’m involved when you are.” You pressed your lips to his hand, watching his smile grow through the salted haze of your tears. “And I love you. There’s that too.”

anonymous asked:

"hey, woah don't pass out on me here" platonic shance?

Lance groans and curls tighter into himself. He can feel the sun beating down on him, warming his already overheated skin, but it can’t touch the chill that’s freezing him from the inside out. His marrow is ice in his bones and he can’t stop trembling. The mild spring breeze feels like a blizzard wind from goddamn Antarctica.

He’s sitting on a bench outside his lecture hall, bent over at the waist with his forehead touching his knees, clutching his backpack to his chest like that might stop the world from rocking and spinning around him. He’d already thrown up in the trash bin outside his classroom after bolting out with no warning and had since decided that there was no coming back to this place. Ever. Some girl had seen him puking his guts up and took pity on him – and feeling a stranger touch his back and ask if he was okay, if he needed help or if she needed to call someone for him while he was disoriented and vulnerable and in pain had not exactly been a welcomed turn of events.

What had been even more unwelcome was the fact that he actually needed her help. He’d been in no shape to turn her away and, frankly, the sudden bout of illness had been terrifying, so he’d heard himself giving her a number and then she was talking on the phone, saying things like, “I’m calling for Lance. He’s not feeling too well right now” and “Yeah, he’s been vomiting and he’s running a pretty high fever…” and finally “Okay, I’ll tell him. No problem.”

The girl – Lance hadn’t even been able to see straight enough to discern whether he’d seen her around before or not – had taken him to the bench and told him that his friend was on the way to get him, and would he be okay without her? He must have said yes, because she left after that.

It feels like he’s been sitting here forever. There’s an awful throbbing ache behind his eyes, pulsing in his temples, and his throat is burning so badly that his eyes water every time he swallows. There’s no strength in his limbs – his arms tremble as they clutch his backpack and he’s almost surprised he’s still upright at all – and he aches all over and his head’s spinning like a top and he’s just so fucking cold. He can’t wait to be in bed.

The breeze picks up again and an unbidden whimper leaves his mouth. He must look pathetic like this, all slumped over on a campus bench and hugging his backpack, shivering uncontrollably and now whining. He’s nineteen years old; he should be able to get his ass home on his own. But he really feels like hell and honestly isn’t sure he’d be able to stand right now anyway.

The minutes run together and it feels like a long time before he hears heavy footsteps approach him.


Shiro’s voice sounds slightly alarmed. Lance doesn’t lift his head until he feels one hand on his back and another come up to cradle his forehead. He looks up woozily and sees Shiro’s face blurring in and out of focus. Lance can tell that he’s frowning.

“That’s quite a fever you got there, buddy,” he says. “Think you can make it to the car?”

“Yeah.” Lance nods blearily. “I’m okay.”

Shiro hums uncertainly and slings Lance’s backpack over his shoulder before wrapping both hands around Lance’s bicep and slowly rising to his feet. Black dots cloud Lance’s vision and he staggers a bit until Shiro steadies him by wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Whoa, don’t pass out on me here,” the older man says. Lance can almost see his concerned, fatherly expression. “How in the world did you even make it into class today?”

“Like I always do,” Lance slurs, desperately ignoring the way his head feels so light, how the ground tilts under his feet. “Didn’t feel too bad ‘til I got here.”

“You should’ve gone home before it got this bad.” Shiro sounds worried. “I don’t like getting calls from strangers telling me you need me to come pick you up because you’re too sick to get home by yourself.”

“M’sorry.” His voice comes out breathy and quiet as whatever strength he has left drains quickly from the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. Heat prickles down his back, behind his eyes, tingles in his hands, and an encroaching blackness spreads across his vision. He can feel the blood draining from his face completely, leaving his head cold and clammy and far too light.

God, he really needs to sit down.


Shiro’s voice sounds much farther away than it had a few seconds ago.

Lance is breathing hard, gasping for air in an attempt to clear away the dizziness in his head. It takes a worrying amount of time, but the black dots eventually begin to clear away, and when he can see again he finds that he’s sitting on the hot pavement with his head between his knees and Shiro’s firm hands on his shoulder and the back of his neck.

After a few minutes of sweating and panting, Lance lifts his aching head. Shiro is right there, staring at him with eyes blown wide and more fear than Lance has ever seen from him. “Lance? Can you hear me?” he shouts, voice raw. “Answer me!”

“Sorry,” Lance says dizzily. “I’m… I don’t feel good.”

Shiro’s face softens in sympathy. “I know, buddy, I know. We’re gonna get you home, don’t worry. Do you think you can eat a little bit before we try standing up again?”

Lance nods, even though he isn’t sure. A granola bar is put into his hand and he nibbles at it halfheartedly while Shiro rubs a hand across his back.

He can’t even make it to the car. He gets dizzy again immediately upon standing and Shiro has to carry him and buckle him in the passenger seat like some little kid. Thankfully, by then, he’s not even coherent enough to be embarrassed about it. He just wants to be in bed.

Natural Bonds

Originally posted by kimthwriter

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, smut
Summary&A/N: You set out to share a place close to your heart with Taehyung. Together, you make it even more special. Dedicated to any other country girls who sometimes feel a little left out in the fandom.
Word Count: 4.3K

Home can be different for everyone. For some, it’s a physical place. For others, it’s a person. You are one of the lucky ones who have both. That both fit so flawlessly together is a gift unlike any other.

From the first time you’d brought Taehyung back to your childhood home, he fit like he belonged here as much as you. He charmed your family flawlessly just as they did him. Mutual politeness rapidly gave way to the same teasing warmth you grew up with. It matched him perfectly. Now they always ask when you’ll be bringing him back.

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And now that Morality’s name is Patton, I really want Anxiety’s name to be Jason. For two reasons:
1) Patton and Jason rhyme just like Roman and Logan.
2) Morality and Anxiety are each other’s opposites, just as Princey and Logic are opposites. 

Elaborating on my second point: I know with the way they are shipped, it’s more natural to assume Roman and Anxiety are opposites, while Patton and Logan are opposites. And I don’t think that’s the case. Sure they oppose the other person in the pairing, but they aren’t the inverse of the other. Patton and Anxiety are the more emotional of the four. While Roman and Logan are more mental states. Anxiety encompasses Thomas’s negative emotions while Patton represents Thomas’s positive emotions. As much as Anxiety likes to pretend he doesn’t care, you can tell he’s just as emotionally driven as Patton. Meanwhile, Roman and Logan are opposites in terms of mentality. Roman’s head is up in the clouds while Logan’s feet are planted firmly on the ground. Roman is very ambitious in his thinking while Logan is more of a realist. In conclusion, I’d love Anxiety’s name to be Jason. But really anything that ends in -on would support my theory. However, I very much feel like Anxiety’s name will break the mould and disrupt the pattern the fanders are attempting to form.

With You {Part 4}

Mark x Reader x Jinyoung
Genre: Fluff/ Angst
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 “Do you really need all of that Y/N” your friend asked as she watched you toss a jar of peanut butter into your already full basket, “I thought it was just us two tonight.”

 “It is,” you walked down the aisle of the grocery store searching for oreos, for some reason you thought the pairing of the two would go well together. It was Friday night and Mark was studying, so you decided to have a girl’s night in.  You checked your cell phone to see if there were any messages from Mark. Since exams had started for him you two had barely talked, let alone have seen each other. Nothing. You knew he was busy but it didn’t stop the fact that you missed him so much.

 Turning the corner towards the freezer section you grabbed a tub of your favorite chocolate ice cream and placed it into the basket along with the bags of chips, oreos and peanut butter. Lately, you’ve been eating anything that you could sink your teeth into “Oh! You know what else would be good? If we got some sushi or maybe east indian! I have a big craving for some deep fried tuna rolls and butter chicken.” Your mouth watered.

 You friend gawked at you, “Jesus Y/N, it’s like your pregnant or something.”

 You laughed as you walked toward the tills, “I’m definitely no-“ you paused, Your face turned pale and your hands went ice cold. You were late, and not just by a few days but by a few weeks. How could you not have noticed? You looked at your friend, “We need to get one more thing,” your voice was shaky as you walked towards the pharmacy aisle.  

 Back at your place, your friend gnawed on her nails anxiously as she paced your room. You walked in shutting the door behind you, the color still gone from your face as you braced your back against the door.

 “Well?” She asked nervously.

 Your head spun and you tried to force the words out of your mouth, “I’m pregnant.” Saying it out loud made it all too real.

 She walked over to you and hugged you, “Everything will be okay, you have Mark, you have both of your families and you have me.” she rubbed your shoulders to try and comfort you.

 “Mark and I are going to have a baby,” You thought to yourself. You two had always discussed your future.  Move in together, marriage, travel the world and have kids, you never expected that the order would get mixed up. You placed your hand on your belly, it didn’t matter the order, as long as you were with Mark everything would be okay, everything would work out. A happy tear rolled down your cheek as you glanced down at your belly. A jolt of excitement hit you, tomorrow when you saw Mark you were going to tell him. He’s going to be a father.

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