hope definition

8

sansaregina’s 14 days of christmas

@cosimocontessina: “You’re right, I’m 100% in the wrong.The truth is I’m the one that’s not tough enough to be in here. I mean, watching the woman I love unarmed, locked up with all these murderers… it’s just too much for me.”

Take My Hand

( let’s see where we wake up tomorrow )

Anonymous requested: Jungkook/Reader + one of them has amnesia and how they deal with it
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Word Count: 11,663
Author’s Note: I made myself hurt writing the outline, which ended up quite long and intricate so I apologize. Title taken from Adam Levine’s “Lost Stars”—although I do prefer the Jungkook cover :3

Summary: In which you lose your memory in a car crash, and Jungkook desperately tries to keep both of your lives intertwined. This in itself proves to be a challenge, especially when you can only remember him as the idol you once adored from afar.

.

Jungkook never paid too much attention to those moments in life where he would figuratively hit the wall and knock the wind out of himself, until he gets the call from the hospital. And then he’s running, dashing fast and wild as quickly as his legs can take him, his mind clouded with so much fear, so much apprehension that even when he can no longer breathe he forces himself to keep running. He feels as if he might lose his mind, already grappling with deniability over his situation, the only thing that can remain consistent throughout his mind is you.

“Are you Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s emergency contact?”

Jungkook stills, pausing in his momentary movement to wipe the sweat that has formed across his face in recovery from the intense dance practice session all the boys have just ended. “Uh, yes I am,” He answers, furrowing his eyebrows together at the seriousness of the situation, his disposition changing in such a drastic manner that all the other boys stop what they’re doing as well to watch the maknae. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m letting you know that Y/N was recently involved in a car accident and was rushed here under critical condition. She’s undergoing surgery now but—!”

“I’ll be right there,” Jungkook interrupts in a breath, the panicking settling in before the gravity of what has just happened to you really weighs in his mind. He doesn’t wait for the nurse on the other end of the line before he’s hanging up and pocketing his phone. His heart starts to race, making the blood pump quicker as air leaves and enters his lungs at an alarming quickened pace. “I have to go,” He relays to the guys, grabbing his jacket off the couch.

“Woah, woah, Jungkookie, what’s going on?” Jimin inquires, straightening from his seated position on the polished wooden floor. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not,” Jungkook says, desperately trying to pull himself from the conversation so he could make his way to the hospital. “Y/N got into a car accident. She’s in surgery right now, I have to go—I have to see how she’s doing.”

“Let me come with you,” Namjoon interjects, already joining Jungkook’s side, jacket on.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair. “Whatever. I’m running, so keep up.”

Namjoon dismisses Jungkook’s words for stress as he merely nods, following the younger boy out of the studio and dashing down the street. The hospital you have been rushed to is nearby, thank god, only a few blocks away from where Jungkook stands, but it feels like miles stretched on for miles. He runs, runs, runs faster than his legs can possibly carry him, huffing and puffing but never quite moving fast enough.

Keep reading

  • Saeran: I've been sitting in this burger king for 4 hours
  • MC: They don't come to take ur order, u have to go to the counter
  • Saeran: Unbelievable

India, 326 BCE.  Macedonian War Council.

Alexander: So talk to me, commanders, how are we looking? 

Hephaistion: Sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard. Like, sure, we’re trying, but it’s almost effortless.

AU for 12x10

Sam hasn’t been blackout drunk for a couple of years, not since the night that he got Dean back from demonhood and put away nearly an entire bottle of Jack. That time he woke up face down in his pillows, fully clothed with his dislocated shoulder shooting violent bolts of pain down his spine. This time, he comes to with the sky wheeling white above him, his clothes damp and his knees muddy and twigs and leaves in his hair. He sits up, hauls himself to his feet and staggers forward a dozen yards or so to emerge onto a jogging track, a woman in bright lycra thudding past with headphones in her ears. His legs are bruised and aching and his mind is… fuck, so foggy, a great roiling cloud of nothingness, and he has to stop thinking about that right fucking now if he wants to stay calm. He runs his hands through his hair, dislodging a beetle and a shower of debris, tries to straighten up his clothes. He finds his phone in his pocket, the screen shattered and dead. Great. But the next woman down the track has a guy alongside her, a personal trainer maybe, so Sam steps forward hoping that he won’t intimidate them both away.

“Hey,” he says, hoarse. “Can I – I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone?” 

Keep reading

New Tales from the Old Forest

25 Days Christmas Romance Challenge || Day 13

Character A’s little sibling/child wants to meet their favorite celebrity/writer/person for Christmas. Character B is said “Christmas present”.


(header by the incredibly sweet and talented @katie-dub)

New Tales from the Old Forest; ~ 5, 500 words; FF.NET || AO3
(now with a shiny sequel - New Tales from the New Year)

At age 28 Emma Swan knows she hasn’t done many things right in her life but her son is definitely in the ‘knocked it out of the part’ category.

She is not sure how much credit she should be given though. She thinks she has raised Henry well, better than she expected, certainly better than she thought she would when she was doubting whether she should do it at all. But there’s only so much positivity and imagination Emma could install in someone. And her kid definitely surpassed her capacity for both.

And like the bright and joyful child that he is, Henry is absolutely obsessed with Christmas.

A part of Emma dreads every 1st of December just because she is sure one morning she’ll wake up and find herself on the North Pole. So far she simply finds herself in an apartment awash in the sounds of Christmas’s best hits. By the end of the first week of that long-awaited month she lives among dwarves of all materials and sizes, has gingerbread men and candy canes falling on her every time she reaches for the cinnamon and is constantly illuminated in some combination of red, green and gold.

How Henry developed such an affinity for the holiday with Emma’s not-quite-a-Grinch-but-definite-Scroogy-undertones attitude, she will never know. Mostly she likes to blame it on kindergarten and school teachers like Miss Blanchard and Miss French. If she didn’t know better, she’d think them related to Santa himself.

But Henry sweeps her along in his excitement like he always does and she has every bit of space on the surface of their fridge covered in drawings of the two of them building snowmen, hanging lights, reading by an imaginable fireplace that she has promised herself to look for when their lease is up, decorating the Christmas tree, baking cookies and every other cliché in the holiday book.

All of that should explain why she is willing to do pretty much anything to make sure Henry has whatever his pure, believing little heart wants for Christmas.

Of course, there are some things her son has without a doubt inherited from her. Like the ability to make Emma’s life as difficult as possible.

While every kid and their awesome aunts and uncles are obsessed with superheroes and everything to do with them, racing each other to buy comics, rubber hammers and plastic light-sabers, ordering Marvel DVDs and booking tickets months in advance, Emma Swan is standing in front of a shelf with heavy, leather-bound, luxurious editions of New Tales From the Old Forest and hoping beyond hope that Killian fucking Jones gets a new book out before Christmas starts really breathing down her neck.

Keep reading