i already uploaded this but the last one was too dark so here

i need me some jealous kara in my life, so of course i did what any person would’ve done and came with a bunch of headcanons to satisfy my own needs because that’s what self care is all about.

  • it all starts one afternoon, they’re downtown in one of lena’s favorite restaurants and kara’s talking excitedly about the new article she’s writing when lena’s phone goes off. usually when they’re together lena ignores it, she always says it’s business associates and insists they can wait but this time lena sees the name on the screen and smiles widely, “oh it’ll be just a minute kara, sorry” kara nods, motions her to go ahead and tries to focus on her pasta until she hears lena giggling “i can’t wait to see you! it’s been, what? six years?” something inside kara twitches. who is she talking to? most importantly who is making her smile like that?! that’s usually her thing. lena keeps talking to whoever is at the other end of the line as if she’s not there, beaming, chuckling… kara’s always believed herself to be someone non violent (for most the time) but she’s now wishing she could grab lena’s phone, throw it to the ground and break it.
  • turns out, lena says to her when they’re on the car ride back to l–corp, that one of her dearest friends from boarding school is planning a visit to national city and called her to see if they could get together, “her name is molly, we were together on science club and we hit it off right away,” kara knows it’s irrational to feel so… heated at the thought of lena hanging out with someone else because damn, she’s her own person and she’s allowed to have as many friends as she’d like but… it makes her extremely uncomfortable to think about lena laughing with someone that is not her. “i have to admit i had a little bit of a crush on her when we were younger,” and kara doesn’t know molly, has never seen her and certainly has no interest in doing it so but she already hates her.
  • “and then she said,” it’s game night, james and winn have paused mortal kombat to listen to her angry rant and alex is staring at her with wide eyes, beer in hand. “oh i used to have a crush on her, as if it’s the most trivial thing on the universe, did you know she was supposed to come tonight? i promised i would let her win at mario kart, but no! molly’s plane lands today and she called to say—i’m so sorry kara, i can’t make it, i’m gonna go pick her up, maybe some other time? can’t molly call herself an uber? does she really need to have lena’s attention all to herself? gosh it makes me so upset someone would be so selfish.” winn opens and closes his mouth a few times, not sure if he should say anything about the whole situation, james and alex are looking at each other, silently deciding on who should be the first to talk until finally alex breaks the silence. “kara… you don’t even know this molly person, didn’t you also say her and lena hand’t seen each other for years? it’s normal that they want to spend time with each other, catch up with what’s been going on in their lives.” kara crosses her arms over her chest and angrily stares out the window, she wants to bury her face on ice cream because though she knows alex is right she still wants to deck molly in the face.
  • lena is never late, if anything she’s always early to arrive to their lunch dates, but for the first time in months, lena luthor is fifteen minutes late and kara’s getting impatient, maybe she got caught up on work and didn’t see the hour, maybe she had to sign some contracts before leaving, maybe… maybe… she tries and call her twice but she doesn’t answer and that’s when kara gets worried, what if something happened to her? what if while she was on her way someone stopped her and hurt her? she’s tempted to alert the deo, tell them to search for lena’s location when she enters the restaurant a little breathless and with her hair disheveled. “kara i am sorry!” she sits down across from her and takes out her coat, “molly came over to my office and we started to talk, i didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” kara’s face goes dark. it’s wednesday, this is supposed to be their day, their afternoon, their time to be with one another without people interrupting and of course molly had to come and ruin it. “did you know molly has a motorbike? she dropped me off!” oh amazing, molly owes a motorbike, so does half the population of national city, she’s nothing especial. kara doesn’t feel like eating anymore and ends up leaving early. 
  • she’s punching one of the walls at the deo repeatedly, each punch harsher than the last. her knuckles feel on fire but it’s working wonders to get her mind off lena and her new best friend molly whom today decided to invite her to the beach. “what is wrong with her?” winn whispers to alex almost scared of kara’s sudden display of anger, alex shrugs and tell him she has no idea since kara refuses to talk with anyone about it. “she’s jealous,” j’onn says without looking up from the file he’s holding and both of them open their mouths in surprise. “psychic, remember?” 
  • “have i done something to upset you?” lena asks with her cheeks red in embarrassement and her voice breaking, “you’ve been avoiding me for weeks, yesterday you cancelled our lunch date because you said you had a lot of stuff to do but then you uploaded a picture on instagram with james in your pajamas eating popcorn. look kara, i know we all need our space sometimes but i’d rather hear the truth than finding out via social media that you’re lying to me.” she sounds so hurt and she’s almost on the verge of tears, kara feels awful she didn’t mean to make her feel bad, she was just tired of hearing her talk about molly and how amazing she was every single time they got together. “you want the truth?” lena nods eagerly and kara tries, she does, to keep her composure when she catches the necklace lena’s wearing… gold with rose pendant. “that is pretty,” she points to it and lena grabs it between her hands, “thank you! molly gave it to me yesterday.” kara feels her fist tighten. 
  • “well the truth is that molly is annoying,” she says standing up from her place and lena’s eyes widen. “yes, she’s annoying and she’s keeping you all to herself. it’s almost as she’s holding you captive! she’s taking you to the beach and to that art gallery i was going to take you, you are eating potstickers with her, lena, that’s our thing!” there’s no going back now… “and she’s… she’ probably ugly too—oh she has a motorcycle, how original! you know what lena, i can fly! i could fly you from here to paris in less than an hour, i bet molly can’t do that. you know what else i can do? lift you up, with one finger probably, can molly lift you up? no i don’t think she can. does she let you win at mario kart?! she doesn’t, huh, does she even know how to play mario kart, does she?!” 
  • lena looks at her in disbelief before she bursts out laughing and kara lets out a groan, “it’s not funny lena! i am much more interesting that molly will ever be and i’m—mphm!” lena’s kissing her, her cold hands are tangling themselves in her hair and she’s pulling her impossibly close and kara feels like she’s floating. for the first three seconds she doesn’t respond, but as soon as lena slips a warm tongue into her mouth her body reacts and she’s grabbing her everywhere. her face, her neck, her waist, her ass, lena gasps and they break apart. “sorry, i didn’t mean to… i just wanted to… you see this wasn’t what i had planned,” kara looks to the ground but it’s not for long because lena is grabbing her chin, making her look into her eyes and she melts. 
  • “love… i can’t believe you were jealous of molly.” kara clicks her tongue almost offended, she was not jealous of molly, she’s about to say it, to assure lena she doesn’t feel such childish emotion when lena gives her a small peck on the lips and her train of thought is stopped. “she’s married… and has two kids!” kara wants to hide under lena’s desk for the rest of the evening.
Giving a hand pt. 1[BTS Smut]

Originally posted by sugasuite

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5  | PART 6  | PART 7 | PART 8


COUNT → 3457

GENRE → Smut


SUMMARY: Your work is not the typical job, you give hand jobs for money, but instead of feeling ashamed by it you’re comfortable with it. Until a man offers you to work in his company, where you would use your abilities to please seven guys.

N/A: This first part is basically introduction. The real action starts in part two and I’ll upload every saturday. 

Truth is, you didn’t hate your job. Anyone hearing you might say you’re crazy, many women around the world would probably shake their heads in disapproval, and your family would probably faint if they knew what you do for money. But you didn’t hate it. Not even a little bit. At the beginning, sure, who wouldn’t? But you started to like it and now you came to work without a trace of shame or guilt. It was a job, it payed the bills and that was more than enough for you.

You heard about the job a year ago, you were struggling to pay the rent and your work as a barista wasn’t enough. You found about it in a newspaper, there was a vacant in a hotel that recently had opened “Girl between 20 and 25 years old, good presentation, experience with customers, good with her hands”, that’s what the announce read and you decided to give it a try and went to the interview. You never expected what kind of job it really was.

Apparently the job was to give hand jobs. You could still remember the confusion you felt the moment the lady told you about it, your eyes were probably as big as the moon at that moment.  You were also embarrassed, because no, that’s not the kind of job you were looking for, and you repeated it to the lady at least five times without a pause. She explained to you that no one knew what the job actually was, because they didn’t know how to look for employees, she said they were looking for respectable young girls, and no girls with too much experience in the field. That’s why they were looking in a newspaper and not in an alleyway or someplace like that.

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Shut Away

Summary: Logan doesn’t feel so useful anymore.

Word Count: 1076

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, brief Patton and Roman Sanders

Pairings: could read as platonic analogical, but otherwise none

Warnings: Self hatred, self deprecating speech, no happy endings

A/N: So….. this didn’t end as it was supposed to… and, uh, sorry? hope you enjoy this angst-fest, bobo.

Tag list (send me an ask if you want to be added to my permanent list): @zadi-jyne @musicphanpie-b @ajumbleofwords @love-sanders-sides @lostin–translation @holdnarrytight @strange-dark-son @mikey-girl12 @milk-withtwosugars

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anonymous asked:

Hii! Can you do a fic in the future where jughead already published his first novel and he has like some sort of conference or sth where he gets asked questions and all and somebody asks about the girls next door and he talks so sweetly about her and like Betty is in there too and all. Idk if you get it but English isn't my first language. Oh and I love your writing btw you are really talented

*insert here Titanic’s “It’s been 84 years” gif* Yes, it’s a prompt!! I finally uploaded one! Easter holidays are totally messing my writing scedule and I’m so terribly sorry for that. But I’m back in the game and I promise I’ll be my usual bughead obsessed self from now on! So, I’ve finished this just before the episode aired yesterday (I was just so tired to go over it and post it after the episode ended, I’m sorry) and I’m very pleased a lot of things that I wrote became canon. I had so much fun writing this because I’m a sucker for future fics and because that’s pure fluff and a huge, much needed dose of happiness to Jughead’s life! Also I changed the request a little, I wrote this as a TV interview just to make it more grande for Juggie, I hope you don’t mind, nonnie! Thank you for requesting and for your lovely words!!! <3 Hope you all enjoy (and maybe this will make you hate me less for my tardiness) !! <3


Betty could literally feel herself bouncing on her heels with nervous excitement, the velvet material of her blush colored pumps getting scratchy as they rubbed up against each other but, truly, right now, she didn’t give a damn about her potentially ruined shoes. She could only focus on the red digital numbers changing sequentially over the silver doors of the semi-packed elevator she was in, biting her lip nervously and counting mentally in her mind as if that way, somehow, the numbers would run faster and the silver cage would miraculously arrive on her floor in a nanosecond.

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Goodbye Internet.

Summary- In which Dan ruined what him and Phil had and made his last video. 

Genre- Angst?

Word Count - 1.7k 

The flat the two shared used to be full of life and happiness, now it was only full of sadness and regret. Dan had messed up big time, him and Phil fought. Now Phil was gone and Dan couldn’t forget him. He was everywhere he looked. Dan couldn’t bear though to get rid of the things they had together. He couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the engagement ring Phil threw back to him just before he left. “Fuck you Dan. I trusted you with my life and agreed to marry you and you went sleeping around?” Phil scoffed, twisting the ring off his finger. His face was tight, the veins in his neck popping out as his eyes watered. “Here”. He threw the ring at Dan, hitting his chest. Dan watched it fall to his feet along with his heart. “I changed my mind. I’ll get my stuff over the week.” He turned and walked out, slamming the door, leaving Dan standing there with tears falling from his eyes, landing around the ring on the floor. 

About a month ago it hit Dan, he was getting married. He wanted to marry Phil, god he did. He was scared and did what he usually did. Dan ran. He ran from his fear, ran from everything and into the arms of another person. A few actually. Thinking back now, Dan realized they all had one thing in common, they were just like Phil. Every woman he went home with was a huge kid on the inside with the sweetest smile. If Dan went home with a guy he noticed things about them to, they all were nerdy and had the sweetest personalities.

Staring at the ceiling as his fairy lights shone above him, illuminating the room with a melancholy mist. Dan hadn’t done much of anything since Phil left. He hadn’t gotten out of bed unless he needed to use the bathroom or wanted a drink or snack. Even then he just started hoarding bags of maltesers and water bottles in his room so he wouldn’t have to leave as much. Unlike the rest of the house, Dan’s room was black and white basically. The less color he had the better. To Dan, Phil was like a bunch of colors that shone brightly making everyone happy. Except Dan, the colors only made him sad now.

Tears slipped from his eyes and slid down the sides of his face. He didn’t want to continue YouTube alone, he didn’t want to abandon the gaming channel, let alone his own but he couldn’t do it. He met Phil through YouTube, and it ended on YouTube.

Sighing, Dan found the strength to climb out of bed. His head throbbed in pain as he walked to the bathroom, his head dropping once he saw his appearance. His hair was greasy and curled, bags and dark circles were under his eyes. His shoulders drooped and his clothes hung off his body. He was wearing grey sweatpants that were big on him alone and a jumper that was way too big for him.

Tears fell from his eyes again as a sob crashed through his body. Dan leaned against the wall and slid down, fully sobbing now. “I-I’m so sorry P-Phil.” He gasped through every cry to himself. He doubted he’d ever get to tell him how sorry he was. Phil was right in Dan’s mind to leave. He didn’t deserve Phil, he never did and he proved that.

Dan couldn’t do this. He wasn’t happy. YouTube doesn’t make him happy anymore. It’s been a week, almost two now since he even logged on. He sat there on the bathroom floor for hours thinking it over.

Music blasted in his headphones, and he stared at the tiled wall. Was he doing this? “I guess I am,” he mumbled, the life drained from him. He pulled himself up and trudged back to his room, setting the camera up in front of his bed. Turning the camera on he sat there for five minutes before saying anything.

“Hello internet,” he waved his hand. His voice wasn’t happy like it usually was when he did his intros, then again he wasn’t happy anymore. “I look like a literal rat right now, and I deserve to.”

Dan sighed and hung his head trying to think of how he wanted to explain everything. The fans never knew that him and Phil were together, so how was to explain what happened without outing them. Hopefully Phil wouldn’t hate his anymore than he already did..

“As you guys probably have noticed, Phil and I are no longer gonna be living together.” Dan bite his lip and looked down. “A-And it’s all my fault.” He looked into the viewfinder for a brief moment to see how he was doing.

“Phil and I were a couple. I asked him to be my boyfriend back in 2011 and he said yes.” Dan smiled but that smile was nothing but sadness anymore. “We went through tough times like any other couple, as you all know we grew apart in 2012, but we came back around.”

Dan could feel tears forming back in his eyes but he refused to let them fall again. “After being together for over 5 years, I decided I would ask him to marry me. I wanted to make it perfect, because that’s what Phil deserves. I planned a trip back to where it all started. You were so clueless. My heart was soaring, beating out of my chest. I was gonna ask you to marry me and I was terrified you would say no. Looking back? You should have, but for some reason you chose to say yes.”

Laughing a bit Dan remember how nervous he had been that day. “I took you to the train station where we met for the first time. I was nervous to get off the train that day. I was worried you would hate the me you would see in person.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek, “W-we planned to get married in May. We planned on recording bits of it, and uploading a vlog as a surprise to you guys.” Dan chuckled, “Some of you, many of you actually would have been expecting it.”

Dan closed his eyes and let the tears roll freely now. He brought his hand up and covered his mouth, letting sobs escape his body. His eyes were more than likely bloodshot as he looked back into the camera. “Then I fucked up big time.” Came from his lips in a whisper.

“Loyalty is something everyone deserves. T-trust to, and I broke both of those things. P-phil… If you by some chance watch this, not that you would want to see me again in any form, but I-I’m so sorry. You should never forgive m-me. I was scared. I s-still am now that I’m alone again because I-I’m so used to having you here. It’s not the same. There’s no dork to greet me when I finally crawl out of bed, no one to help when I fall into an existential crisis. I fucking took you for granted, and I will never f-forgive myself for that.”

Dan fell back onto his bed and let the sobs come, the tears pour. A good 15 minutes later once he composed himself, he sat back up and looked into the camera. “I che-cheated on P-Phil Lester. I fucking hate myself f-for it.” He wiped his eyes before looking back into the camera.

“It hit me that I was getting married and I started to panic. I started thinking about how Phil, how you could c-change your mi-mind any moment and it scared me. So, like any other time I was scared, I ran. Instead of running to you, I ran from you. Into the arms of others.”

“I want you guys to do me a favor. I want you all to, if you love somebody, make sure you tell them. If you get scared f-fucking tell them! Don’t do what I did. Don’t be stupid and cost yourself the one person you can’t live without. This? This hurts like fucking hell and it sucks. Phil, you mean everything to me an- and I’ll never get you back and I deserve that. I deserve to be lonely and to never hear from you again.”

Dan sighed, scared shitless to end this video. His face was tear stained, his sleeves were damp from crying and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “The last few things I w-want to say to end this on… I-I’m moving. I don’t know where, but somewhere. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll stay in London, it all hurts too much. J-just like this… YouTube used to make me happy. Now it mocks me. I look and see most of the videos I created were with you Phil and I can’t do it. So, this is it. No more Danisnotonfire. No more live shows, no more updates. I’m going back to being Dan, and getting rid of my internet persona I’ve built over the years. Please, if you guys see me in public, please don’t come up to me. I don’t want this “fame”,” Dan put hand quotations around fame. He never considered himself a famous person. Just someone on the internet. “I loved meeting you guys, but when your other half is missing you just don’t want to continue.”

Dan sighed one last time and wiped his eyes before looking into the camera. “I’m Dan and this was Danisnotonfire. Goodbye internet.”


Dan had just finishing packing up the last box of things from his bedroom. He was moving back home, not too far from his parents’ house. Carrying the box out to the lounge, he looked around. What was once a happy place was now nothing but a bad memory. The ring he gave Phil lived in his wallet. The remains of his YouTube career were going with him. He had uploaded the video a week ago and wasn’t sure how everyone was reacting. He didn’t check the comments or look on any social media. He was too scared.

Dan’s phone went off in his hand and he looked at it.

YouTube: AmazingPhil has just uploaded a video: Phil’s Final Video Blog - 2nd March 2017

Part 2

And We’re Live

Tom Holland! Peter Parker x Reader 

Author: Cosmo  |   Edited by: Grae

Word Count: 1622   |    Warnings: brief mention of mugging, kinda long (sorry!)

Summary: Every blogger wants to get recognized, but no one knows what secrets you’ll dig up in the process.

A/N: Reader is kind of based on Alya from Miraculous Lady Bug. This kind of has potential to be a multi-part story so uhh comment if you want a part 2!!!

“3,2,1…and we’re live in New York City!” A cheerful, yet out of breath voice called out of view of a shifty cell phone camera pointed at the sky. “I’ve got something amazing to show you all-” Inhaling deeply the camera focused on the sky finally. A red and blue blob appearing in the sky, “our one and only Spider-man” very shakily the camera zoomed in on the blob and focused seconds after. Showing the spider themed hero zipping across the city. “This is amazing..oh, oh my god!” As the hero started to disappear, the image of the recording started to bounce rapidly and footsteps were heard on the payment chasing after the hero. A few seconds later- the image cut off.

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Say You Won't Let Go [Connor Murphy x Male!Reader]

Title: Say You Won’t Let Go
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Male!Reader
Requested: by like three people lmao
Summary: Connor takes you home for thanksgiving–the hitch is that Connor is still sort of closeted. He’s not going to let that kind of them stop him from loving you.
Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of homophobia | Mentions of neglect and abuse | First person reader | not proof read
A/N: last upload before I leave on my trip! Yay! It’s crazy late here. This is a combo of a few request: three people requested a male reader, one person requested Connor sort of “adopting” a male reader who gets neglected and abused at home and taking care of them, and someone else requested Connor and a male reader go home for thanksgiving with lots of angst, and we all know I love angst. Hope this is good! Love you all and thanks for 800+ followers! (I’m going immediately to bed after this hoo)



“Connor,” I called again. He brushed his fingers across my knuckles again, dangling between us on the leather carseat. He was staring ahead, so it was concerning to see him so absent. While driving.


“The light’s green,” I told him in a weak voice, watching his dark eyebrows furrowed blankly before fumbling, hands grasping for the wheel and slamming on the break. His dark hair was a curtain between us, eclipsing most of his face from my view.

“Sorry,” he mumbled heatedly under his breath, his hands tapping at the wheel anxiously. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

I folded my hands in my lap, careful to stay calm. Connor’s paranoia could be contagious sometimes, and his anxiety was filling the car with fumes I didn’t have the capacity to escape.

“I’m scared too, Connor,” I mumbled softly, watching his white knuckled grip clench and unclench on the steering wheel, licking his lips before glancing surprisingly out of the corner of his eyes at me.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, voice hoarse, chancing to take his hand of the steering wheel to reach for me. His painted nails raked harshly against the fabric of my jeans, up and down my thigh in an attempt to soothe me–and, in a way, it helped because it distracted him from his inner monologue. “I’m not scared. If they,” he paused, taking in a heavy sigh and letting his eyebrows drop low over his eyes. “If they say anything, we’ll get up and go. Get a hotel for the next few days and then go back to school, alright?”

“Going home is making you nervous,” I said neutrally. “This was a mistake.”

Connor’s hand wrapped vice like around my knee, shaking it a little too roughly. “This is not a mistake. I’m not letting you go home to your shitty parents, alright? Besides,” he grumbled. “This is a decent test for my parents, too. If they’re asswipes, we go immediately.”


My stomach twisted nervously as the main streets and shops gave way to country field and subdivisions, little white picket fences with dogs and rosebushes  I hadn’t grown up in a neighborhood quite like this, and yet it amazed me–suburbia, for all its obvious perks, could still contain dark secrets.

Connor, subject A.

He hadn’t been home in awhile–he and I had spent the summer together working on campus, sharing a dorm. I knew he was civil with his folks and all, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t positively green as we pulled into a perfectly cemented driveway, three nice cars already parked in an open garage. Connor shifted the car into park, turning off the engine, but instead of exiting let his eyes close and leaned against the steering wheel for just a moment.

It was hard–I could see how hard it was. How uncomfortable he felt.

I wasn’t sure if I’d made it better or worse.

I wasn’t sure how he’d worded it to his mother on the phone when he’d asked if I could join the party for thanksgiving–I knew he’d told her I wasn’t in the best standing with my parents. I wasn’t sure if he’d asked if he could bring “a friend” over or “someone I’m seeing”.

He hadn’t said boyfriend. They didn’t know. He wasn’t out.

It was maybe four yards to the door–just a few steps, less than sixty seconds, and everything in Connor Murphy’s family dynamic would change.

Watching Connor swallow, forehead pressed into his hands where he was folded in on himself in the driver’s seat, was almost heartbreaking. I didn’t know if I made it worse or better. I didn’t even know how he felt.

I hadn’t been home since I graduated.

I reached out, scratching lovingly against Connor’s back through the fabric of his hoodie, feeling his shoulders relax beneath my hands.

“I guess this is me fucking up again,” he laughed mirthlessly. “Christ, they’re gonna have a field day.”

“You can take me somewhere else,” I offered, my voice thick at the suggestion, praying he wouldn’t really do that, but understanding if it was what he needed. “You don’t have to come out–”

Connor sprung off the steering wheel, spinning, eyes wide, pink lips partially parted, his bony hands twitching I’m his lap.

“You,” he choked, seeming to be at a loss for words. “I didn’t mean–you aren’t the mistake, sweetheart.” He reached forward, lithe fingers cradling across the back of my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw. “You–fuck, I love you.”

Connor’s slate eyes were searching, and I saw all the manic fear in them before they shut so that he could surge across the car, sealing his soft lips to mine.

It was almost comedic when he got like this–desperate, hungry, and nothing lustful about it. Connor was so uniquely physical and so poor with his words, this was the only way he knew to communicate that he loved me.

And I loved it. And I loved him.

There were a few knees to my ribs as he climbed across the median, fumbling to get into my lap, his little lithe body folding perfectly against mine, his hands still knotting into my hair.

“Connor–” I tried to protest with a laugh, surprised when he simply swallowed the words and continued.

“I love you,” he hissed again, wrapping both his arms around my neck, leaning back to glare determined at my collar bone. “I love you, please–”

“I love you,” I assured, pulling him back to press his face into his neck. “I love you, sweetheart, but you have to calm down. You aren’t gonna be able to articulate to your parents if you’re this panicked. I can’t do it for you.”

“Fuck,” he cried, voice thick, pressing my face closer to the juncture of his neck. His hair was down today, kissing my temple. “I lied. I’m fucking terrified.”

“It’s okay,” I promised, scratching at his lower back soothingly. “I’m right here.”


We didn’t bother to bring in our bags, not when there might be a chance that we might have to haul them back out in a quick fit, Connor swearing during it all.

He couldn’t stop fidgeting–it had been awhile since I’d seen him like this. Yes, the Connor I had met nearly a year ago had been stoic, pensive, and reclusive–but he’d also had an air of newly acquired calm and confidence that had been difficult to resist. He had smiles that seemed like they costed him, but only after he gave them, and he, more often than not, gave them without thinking twice.

Recovering, he told me, he was recovering. It was more than enough.

He kept scratching behind is ear, frizzing the fawn tone hair there so that the curls ticked upward just a little higher than the rest, his mouth twitching as he clenched and unclenched his jaw in a way that would make for robotic kissing later. The way his hands shook, I was surprised he didn’t stick them in his pockets–he wiped them on his jeans enthusiastically, stepping into the foyer as his mother answered the door.

The Murphy’s looked as perfect as the photos on Facebook had portrayed–I knew it was for my benefit. Cynthia Murphy was loud, and it was done in a way that her own face cringed with the overdone politeness of it all. She grinned at me so that the apples of her cheeks looked high crested like Connor’s when he smiled without thinking, his eyes crinkling at the corners, making his hollowed cheeks dimple. Her eyes were vaguely panicked, and I looked away, giving her the time to process what was clearly a misread signal from Connor.

Larry Murphy shook my hand, much too roughly, making it obvious where Connor had acquired it, and smiled like I was the campaign aid to his greasy politician. It made me nervous, unsettled, and I watched Larry Murphy stuff his large hands into the pockets of his slacks.

Zoe Murphy was lazing artistically against the leather couch in the living room, only slightly visible from the foyer. At her parent’s call, she didn’t move, but offered us a wave without looking up from the television. So Connor hadn’t been lying about their strained relationship.

“It’s so good to meet you! Connor got us all excited over the phone,” Cynthia crooned, patting her husband on the shoulder, her eyes still panicked behind her painfully wide smile. Her lips cracked in the same way Connor’s did.  “Worried for nothing, I see. It’s always good to meet Connor’s friends.”

I smiled, my face pained.

He could lie. Right now. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and I knew he was thinking about it. Smile, pretend, I really got you guys this time! Slap me on the back, call me bro, smile and nod when his father asked about the cute girls on campus. He could cut me down right here, and he knew it.

Connor was smiling politely, his hands still twitching at his sides. He was painfully close to me, too close for them not to notice, our shoulders brushing. They were taking it in with darting eyes and slim pupils, eyes cutting between us, begging for an explanation.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked in a strained voice, obviously attempting to be civil. The smile on his face, while trying, was a fraud.

Cynthia had begun to wring her hands, licking her lips as if attempting to come up with something in a way that wouldn’t offend me. She laughed too loudly.

“You just, you said over the phone you were bringing home someone you wanted us to meet,” she smiled apologetically in my direction. Behind the two of them, Zoe Murphy had rolled into a sitting position, her auburn eyebrow arched, her lipglossed mouth in a froze oh.

“Yeah,” Connor said slowly, eyes glancing from me back to them in a can you believe this? sort of way, clearly more for their benefit than mine. He wanted them to say it for him, but the wouldn’t. They weren’t the kind of people who were going to wish for this or be thrilled Connor was finally himself.

He was trying to come out, and they were pressed so tightly against the closet door, Connor was going to need a fucking cannon to get himself out.

Larry made a noise in the back of his throat, impatient, disguising it with an exasperated laugh. I watched Connor tense, his shoulders locking and his mouth falling open. Scared.

“She just means,” Larry laughed awkwardly, making an aggressive eye contact with me in an attempt to demean Connor, “We thought Connor meant a girl. We thought he might be getting serious with someone.”


To his credit, Connor didn’t explode. He didn’t scream. He did it slowly, softly, without words, the same way the Connor I knew everything about and the Murphy’s had never met did everything.

He just smiled–not forced, but serene and genuine, and glanced down to where his pale hand, freckled across the knuckles was bumping against mine, and laced out hands together.  I wasn’t looking at the Murphy’s, but I could hear their sharp intake of breath over the rapid pounding of my heart.

Connor was smiling at me, the apples of his cheeks eclipsing his eyes that were watering with the uncertainty of the moment.

And I was so proud.

He chose me.

He chose himself.

“I am,” Connor said, his voice certain from where he smiled at me in awe and adoration. “Serious about someone. This is my boyfriend.”


“It could’ve gone worse.”

Connor, laying facedown on his twin bed could’ve been slightly endearing, slightly adorable, if it hadn’t been for the face he was screaming into his pillow.

“It could’ve gone a lot fucking better!” He screamed, leaning up to scratch at his face with his black chipped nails–a bad habit that had me lunging forward to take his wrists, replacing his hands onto my hips and sitting beside him, letting him fall face first into my chest with a humph.

“They didn’t make us leave,” I reminded softly, combing a hand through his soft hair and kissing his temple. Connor just groaned against my chest.

“My dad passed out,” Connor hissed against my chest. “Fucking went unconscious. Because I’m gay.”

“Again, not the worst reaction.”

“Oh my God, dude, please let me be negative!” Connor grunted, pulling back, stuffing his hands into his hair, causing me to reach up again to remove them.

“Stop that,” I mumbled. “Keep those on me.”

He frowned, but still reached forward tenderly to cup the back of my neck, eyes searching for something in my face. Leaning forward till he blurred, close enough to kiss, he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, tilting his forehead to rest against mine with closed eyes.

“I worship you,” he whispered, sending a violent chill down my spine, my own hands reaching up to tangled in the fabric of his hoodie. “I’d do that again and again to be with you.”

“Con,” I whispered, pouting my lips to beg for a kiss, sighing happily when he obliged me, nudging me backwards gingerly against his mattress which was struggling to hold two grown men.

He was tender, loving as he pressed chaste kisses again and again to my lips, before sighing and laying his head against my chest, reaching up to run his thumb absently across my jaw.

“Your sister seemed supportive.”

“What part of ‘Holy shit, no way!’ seemed supportive to you?”

“She was smiling?”


“I’m sorry,” I conceded, reaching up to again card my fingers through his hair. “It’s just…they didn’t throw you out, Con. They didn’t call us names. They didn’t burn your things. That’s a luxury I didn’t have when I came out to my folks.”

He sighed, pressing his nose against my chest again, kissing over the fabric of my shirt with a pained expression. “I know, baby, and I’m so sorry. Just–I’m taking care of you from now on, alright? You don’t have to worry about that stupid shit anymore.”

“I know sweetheart,” I sighed, leaning down to kiss him again, knotting my hands into his long hair and going deeper, feeling Connor’s long legs give way to straddle me, his own hands framing my face to keep me firmly in place.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my lips, before diving back in with fervor, licking up into my mouth, pulling a small laugh from the both of us.

“Con–” I warned.

“I know,” he groaned, pressing his face into the side of my neck and stretching my shirt collar to reveal a stripe of skin, beginning to suck a vicious hickey there, earning a surprised yelp from me.

“Connor, you can’t–”

“Knock, knock!”

We sprang apart, both of us scrubbing at our faces, attempting to control our breathing. Connor stared wordlessly at the still closed door for a long time, before his mother called his name again and it dawned on him that she was asking permission to enter his room.

“Come in.”

Cynthia smiled apologetically upon entering, balancing a tray in her hands and sitting it on Connor’s desk, still covered in papers, before seating herself in the desk chair. Connor shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

“We haven’t touched your room,” she said softly, smiling a bit differently than she had downstairs. “Left it just the way you liked it.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, picking at the duvet with his fingernails, before thinking better of it and reaching out to take my hand again. Solidarity.

Cynthia Murphy smiled.

“I brought you cookies–Connor doesn’t like pie, I’m not sure if he told you,” she said to me with a grin, extending a plate I took warily, thanking her warmly as I could. “I know a lot of people eat pie on Thanksgiving, but I’m honestly not even very good at making it–”

“Mom,” Connor called desperately, looking at her with wild eyes. Scared.

“Your dad is just fine,” she promised, still smiling at him like he was the most important thing in the world. Connor’s expression told me he’d never seen it before. “And he’s gonna come around. He just needs a minute, is all.”

Connor nodded, admitting it was reasonable, even if he didn’t like it. “You?”

She smiled, and for the first time I noticed her eyes were wet. “You’ve found somebody, sweetheart. That’s the most important thing. Look how much you’ve grown–I’m so proud of you, Connor.”

I let them hug. I let them cry. I let Cynthia hug me, thank me, take my face in her hands and promise me that I had a home here as long as I loved her son.

It was a lot. It was so much.

And when it was over, it was Connor and I wrapped around each other in his twin bed, our faces desperately close and whispering softly to each other.

“I think my mom wants me to propose.”

“You sure your dad’s heart can take it?”

“Haha, Prince Charming, you’re hilarious.”

A beat of silence, so long that I thought he’d fallen asleep, before I felt his lips linger at my temple. “Thanks for loving me.”

I tightened my grip on his sides, kissing his collar bone lightly. “Always, sweetheart.”

Don’t Look Back


“I ain’t gonna leave ya alone out here.” 
“You’re okay, I got ya.”



SUMMARY : (Set early season 2) After the reader loses everything, she finds herself fighting for her life against the dead. But she realizes she’s not alone when a stranger with a crossbow saves her life.

WORD COUNT : 4,781

A/N : I know I take FOREVER to upload stories but that’s because I want them to be perfect! This one turned out to be way longer than I expected, but oh well! I hope you beautiful people enjoy and please let me know what you think!

(P.S. For those who requested this prompt, each of you had a different idea on how this story should play out so I mashed them all together and came up with this. Hope it doesn’t disappoint!)

xx crossbowking

Originally posted by reedus-wifey

“Run! Don’t look back. Don’t stop for anything. Just run. Now, Y/N, go!”

The woods were deathly silent, the only sound coming from heaving lungs and feet crashing through leaves and thickets.

“No, Dad! I’m not leaving you!”

Branches tore at clothing and skin, tearing holes and slicing exposed arms and legs.

"I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart. I promise!”

No one had heard them coming. One minute you were helping set up camp before nightfall and the next, a herd of biters ambushed your group.

You felt your stomach twist as you remembered your fathers’ eyes — warm like honey, wide eyed and terrified as he begged you to run.

Your father pulled you in for a hug — swift but firm, like he knew deep down it would be the last time he’d hold you — before giving you a small push as a group of biters closed in on him. Turning on your heels, you took off ahead, hearing grunts as flesh hit flesh — no doubt your father fighting for his life.

Then suddenly, a gut wrenching scream filled the air that stopped you dead in your tracks. “Don’t…don’t look back,” you whispered, repeating your fathers’ order through gritted teeth.

But you couldn’t help yourself.

You spared one last glance over your shoulder just in time to see a biter rip the exposed flesh from your fathers’ neck.

A strangled noise escaped your mouth as you watched the blood pour from his throat, soaking the front of his stained white t shirt. His eyes met yours, still warm like honey, but bloodshot and filled with unshed tears, as he gargled one last word. “Run.“

And so you did.

You didn’t know how long you’d been running — you were sure you had lost the herd behind you a while back. But your body felt as though it was on autopilot — falling into a steady rhythm as you ducked around fallen branches and roots.

You wiped at your tear stained cheeks, your breaths coming out in huffs as you tried to forget how you just lost the last person you had left on Earth…about the guilt that coiled around your body like rope for listening to your dad and running ahead…about how you had no idea what the hell you were supposed to do now.

You felt your chest tighten, as if a hand had reached inside your body and grabbed your heart, squeezing it in its grasp.

Distracted by the sudden pressure, you didn’t notice the tree branch hanging too low in front of you. The next thing you knew, you were sprawled flat on your back, wind knocked out of you, staring up at the swinging branch you collided with.

You laid completely still, save for your heaving chest as you tried to slow your breathing. Sweat dripped down the base of your neck and sides of your face, collecting into a pool around you.

With a groan, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. You felt wetness drip down the side of your face and wiped at it with your fingertips. When you pulled your hand back, it was covered in blood. “Shit,” you grimaced.

Ignoring the turmoil inside, your survival instincts kicked in. You were vulnerable out in the open like this — you needed to find shelter and now. Wiping the blood from your hands, you went to stand up but a jolt of pain shot through your left ankle, sending you crashing back to the ground.

You hissed in agony and grabbed your foot, tears springing to your eyes from the strain. Taking a breath, you stretched your leg out in front of you to survey the damage. Relief washed over you when you realized you could roll your ankle around without too much strain, meaning it hadn’t been broken. But you grimaced at how swollen it already was.

Swallowing the pain, you focused back on the task at hand. You needed to get somewhere safe — that was priority number one. You could deal with everything else later.

Still, a small voice kept making itself known in the back of your head —

You’re all alone.

All. Alone.

You could’ve saved daddy.





Fighting back the tears that sprang to your eyes, you gripped your chest — feeling your heart rate starting to speed up…feeling your breath start to accelerate…

You frantically glanced around, seeing nothing but trees surrounding you. No matter which direction you faced, everything looked exactly the same. You had no idea where you were, which direction to go, which direction you came from. It was almost dark and you had no idea how to get somewhere safe or if there even was someplace safe. 

A chill set over your bones at the thought of being alone in the woods at night — nothing good ever happened at night.

Before even more panic could set it, a rustle came from behind you, drawing your attention away. You flipped over onto your knees, squinting towards the mass of trees you heard the noise come from. But dusk was making it difficult to see more than a couple feet in front of you.

All of the sudden, a group of walkers came into view, weaving between the trees, limping and groaning directly towards you.

Your stomach dropped as you began to crawl backwards, counting at least four biters coming your way — you had gone up against more than that before, but you didn’t have any back up and on top of that, you were injured.

You stumbled to your feet, hissing from the pain shooting through your ankle, and realized in horror that you wouldn’t be able to outrun the dead on a twisted ankle.

“Damn it,” you growled as the dead limped faster in your direction, arms outstretched, teeth bared.

Heart racing, you fumbled for the knife you kept strapped to your leg. It was the only weapon you had — everything else had been left behind back at the camp. You yanked it out of its sheath just as one of the walkers lunged at you.

Gasping, you braced your hands against the walkers shoulders, its jaws snapping inches from your face. You grunted, struggling under its weight — but with one big shove, you were able to push the biter onto its back, your body toppling on top of it. Just before its teeth could sink into your neck, you pulled your arm back and sunk your knife deep into the walkers temple, its grip on you going slack.

Wrenching your knife out of the walkers head, you hopped to your feet, keeping the pressure off your bad foot as the next walker sprang at you. 

You dodged its attack, pushing it away from you. While the biter fumbled for its balance, you snuck up behind and plunged your knife into the back of its head, blood splattered over your face as you yanked your knife.

Heart pounding, you spun around and came face to face with the most grotesque looking walker you had seen — half of its face had rotted off, exposing tendons and bone. One eye was dangling from its socket, bouncing against its cheek with each movement. The skin that was left on its body was sickly green, sagging into hanging clumps.

Fighting back the bile that rose to your throat, you ducked under the walkers swinging arms before giving it a shove backwards. The biter growled in protest, taking a minute to regain its balance as you slowly limped backwards, keeping your knife up and ready in front of you.

Suddenly, a snarl came from behind, turning your attention to the fourth walker who had snuck up on you. Before you could make a move, the biter attacked — launching itself right at you and effectively knocking you flat on your back. As your head slammed into the ground, you felt your knife slip from your grasp.

You were paralyzed for a moment, black spots clouding your vision. The only thing you were aware of was this heaviness that suddenly settled over your body. You lifted your head an inch off the ground and came practically nose to nose with the walker that took you down. 

A scream escaped your lips before you could stop it as you grabbed a handful of the walkers hair and yanked it backwards. The biter growled and snapped its jaws, just barely missing your face. You grunted under the weight of the walker and with your free hand, frantically felt around for your knife.

Instead, your hand clamped around what felt like a large rock. Adrenaline kicking into high gear, you picked it up and slammed it into the side of the walkers head. The walker rolled onto its back next to you and you quickly straddled it, raising the rock over your head and slamming it into the biters face until it stopped moving. 

You saw movement from the corner of your eye and went to grab the rock now embedded in the walkers face, but it was covered with blood and slipped right through your fingers.

With a frustrated yell, you jumped to your feet just as the walker with the hanging eye grabbed you, the weight of its body propelling you backwards until your back connected with a tree trunk. Groaning, you braced one forearm against its chest, the other against its neck, and felt the last remaining bit of strength you had draining from your body.

The walker snarled, snapping its blood stained teeth just inches from you. Your arms began quivering as you attempted to squirm out of the biters grasp, but your back was pressed up against the tree and there was no where for you to go.

A sob rose to your throat as you thought of your father — how he had just sacrificed his life so you could live yours — and how that sacrifice would mean nothing now. You were in a losing battle and by the looks of it, wouldn’t last much longer.

A sort of calm settled over your bones and you wondered if this is what it felt like to die — to feel at peace in the face of death. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the end…

But just as your arms were about to give out, you felt the biter you were fending off go completely still.

Your eyes shot open in confusion — its mouth was unhinged as if in mid bite, hands outstretched as if they were seconds from grabbing you, its one eye wide open.

Everything looked exactly how it did before you closed your eyes.

Except one thing.

There was an arrow sticking through the side of its head.

The walkers legs gave out and it crumpled to the ground. You were frozen in place, body shaking from what almost happened as you stared at the unmoving walker.

“Ya bit?” a new voice rang out, making your head snap up.

Your eyes landed on a man you had never seen before — he had cropped, brown hair and wore torn clothing. It looked like the sleeves of his plaid shirt had been ripped off, exposing toned, dirty arms. Over his shirt he wore a black leather vest. But what drew your full attention was the crossbow he held in his grasp aimed at your head.

“W-what?” you finally sputtered, heart beating a mile a minute.

Bit,” the man growled, seeming to lose his patience. “Did ya get bit?”

For the first time, you took a look at yourself. You could understand why he would be uneasy — most of your body was coated in blood, your clothing was all ripped up, and scratches covered most of your exposed skin.

“I ain’t got all day, woman,” the stranger barked out annoyed, taking a few measured steps forward, crossbow still pointed at you.

You gulped, slowly raising both of your hands in surrender. “I-I don’t think so,” you whispered. Your eyes flickered from the weapon up to the man, meeting his penetrating gaze. He seemed to give you a thorough once over — not in a way that made you uneasy — more so that he was being extra cautious.

When it seemed like he was satisfied you weren’t an immediate threat, he very slowly lowered his crossbow, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. A heavy silence passed between the two of you before the man spoke up. “The hell ya doin’ all the way out here?”

“My camp…” you trailed off, lowering your hands. “My camp was overrun.”

The man nodded, not seeming to need further explanation. “An’ what ‘bout your people?”

You lowered your eyes, feeling a tremor rock through you. You couldn’t think about how much you lost…not right now. Right now you needed to survive.

When you looked back up at the man, his eyes had softened considerably. “I didn’t mean ‘ta—“

“Thank you,” you interrupted, nodding towards the walker the man had taken down. “You saved my life.”

It might’ve been the trick of the light but you could’ve sworn you saw the man flush red. Regardless, he just grunted, approaching the walker. “Was nothin’,” he said offhandedly, bending down and yanking the arrow out of the walkers head.

“It wasn’t nothing,” you retorted, catching the man’s gaze as he straightened up. “You didn’t have to help me. Thank you,” you said slowly, meaningfully.

The man just nodded once, signaling the end of the conversation, as he slipped the arrow into the sack he had strapped around his shoulders. You suddenly felt very exposed — you needed to find you knife.

Body aching, you limped over to where you had dropped the knife and gently lowered yourself to your hands and knees. You began to feel around for the weapon you lost, pushing piles of leaves around, trying to uncover it. 

Every move you made felt like a thousand needles were piercing your skin — your head was pounding, your ankle was throbbing, and you were almost certain you had a concussion.

You felt eyes on you and flashed a look at the man who was watching you with furrowed brows. He seemed to have something on his mind but remained silent. Knowing you’d feel much better when you had something to protect yourself with, you continued to search the forrest floor.

Seconds later, you heard the rustling of footsteps approach you — the man was now beside you, standing over the walker you had killed with the rock. Then, almost effortlessly, he grabbed the biter by the collar of its shirt and tossed it a couple feet to the side. You watched perplexed, as the man crouched down and picked up something. 

When a glint of silver caught your attention, you realized he had grabbed your knife — so not only was this guy a skilled archer, he was apparently a mind reader as well.

His eyes flickered up to yours as if he heard your thoughts and held your gaze, straightening to his full height. You slowly stood up, ignoring the spasm of pain shooting through your ankle, and glanced at the weapon.

A part of you wondered why you weren’t as scared as you should be — you were defenseless, standing in front of stranger who held a knife. But you weren’t scared — hell, you weren’t even slightly concerned.

And that is what scared you.

The man suddenly flipped the knife in his hand, grabbing the blade and extending the hilt towards you.

You tentatively reached for it. “Thank you,” you mumbled yet again as you slipped the weapon back into the sheath wrapped around your thigh. “I’m, uh, I’m Y/N, by the way,” you continued, feeling a little self conscious, your people skills feeling incredibly rusty.

The man paused, seeming a little self conscious himself. “Daryl,” he finally grumbled with a nod.

“So,” you started a bit awkwardly, “what brought you all the way out here?”

Daryl’s features darkened ever so slightly. “Lookin’ for someone,” he said lowly, worry flashing over his face before quickly disappearing. “A lil girl…she got, uh, blonde hair. Real skinny. ‘Bout yeigh high,” he said, holding his hand up near his chest. “Ya seen anyone out here?”

You shook your head slowly. “No…no, sorry. You’re the first person I’ve seen.”

“Damn it,” Daryl rumbled, scanning the surrounding area. “I gotta keep lookin’. She’s jus’ a kid an’ all…” he trailed off, before locking eyes with you once again. “Hey, ya gonna be okay?”

You paused, caught off guard, unsure why this stranger was worried about your well being. “Yeah…yeah, I’ll be fine,” you finally said, clearly convincing neither you or Daryl.

He seemed to have an internal struggle, shuffling back and forth on his feet, looking torn. Finally seeming to have made a decision to whatever conflict was going on inside him, he sighed. “Listen, if ya want, I can bring ya back ‘ta — ”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the tell tale groan of a walker coming your way. The two of you immediately switched into high alert, Daryl raising his crossbow and you grabbing your knife. You felt your breathing start to pick up as you stared towards where the sound came from. The tension rolling off Daryl was almost palpable as he took few steps forward, shooting you a quick look over his shoulder.

A walker suddenly came into view — but just as quickly as it appeared, it was taken down — one of Daryl’s arrows pierced through its skull, a perfect headshot.

A sigh of relief left your body as Daryl walked over to the biter. You stared at his back as he went, the two angel wings sewn into the back of his vest drawing your attention. 

You watched as he effortlessly yanked the arrow out of the walkers head and reloaded it into his bow. “You’re pretty good with that thing,” you commented, motioning to the crossbow.

He glanced down at the weapon, turning it in his hands as if to get a good look at it. “It ain’t rocket science or nothin’,” he brushed off. “Ya got anythin’ else on ya ‘sides that knife?”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have time to grab anything.”

“We?” Daryl retorted, quirking a brow.

You felt your body go numb. For a minute, you’d almost forgotten you just lost your dad. A pit formed in your stomach and you did everything you could to hold back the grief that was threatening to crash over you. 

You tried not to think of your dad — how scared he looked, how you shouldn’t have left him, how brightly his blood had contrasted over his white shirt.

And then you felt two hands grab your shoulders and all of the sudden, you were face to face with Daryl. 

He was crouched down a little so the two of you were eye level and for the first time, you realized how deep his blue eyes were. “Ya good? Ya looked like ya were ‘bout ‘ta pass out or somethin’,” he rumbled, face etched with concern.

As you opened your mouth to respond, a loud growl sounded throughout the night, drawing both of your attentions to the trees behind you. You barely had time to react before Daryl was grabbing your arm and pulling you behind him, positioning himself in front of you, crossbow up and aimed once again.

You felt your heart rate speed up, grasping your knife a little harder than necessary. “How many?” you whispered, peeking over his shoulder.

“Don’t know…” he trailed off, chest heaving. “Can ya run?”

You looked down at your foot, wincing as you rolled the ankle you twisted earlier. “Not fast enough,” you murmured back. Daryl muttered something that sounded like a curse under his breath, but you couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in your ears.

The suspense didn’t last long. Seconds later, a group of walkers emerged from the shadows. You took a step out from behind Daryl to stand beside him and counted five of them. He glanced down at you, his expression unreadable. 

You stared back up at him, ignoring the way your stomach flipped. “I’m with you,” you said resolutely, raising your knife.

Daryl watched you for a moment more, before giving a nod. He waited until one of the walkers was a couple feet away before firing at it, taking it down with an arrow to its head.

You limped a couple feet to the side, waving your arms around. “Hey! Over here!” you shouted, catching the attention of another walker. It set its sights on you and started groaning your way, stumbling over its own feet. You peeked around it and saw Daryl take down another one with his hunting knife.

A growl brought you back to the task at hand and you waited for the snapping walker to get closer. It reached for you but you ducked under its swinging arms and grabbed it by the hair, yanking its head back and sinking your knife deep into its forehead. The walker collapsed into a heap at your feet as you yanked your knife back out.

You spun around and saw Daryl hunched over, in the middle of reloading his crossbow, keeping his eyes on the walker nearing him. But what he didn’t see was the fifth walker approaching him from behind. 

You felt your heart lurch and you limped as fast as you could towards the man you had just met. He shot at the walker in front of him just as the one behind him pounced.

But you got to him first.

You threw yourself at the walker who had nearly taken a bite out Daryl’s shoulder, knocking yourself and the biter onto the forrest floor. You cried out as you landed hard on your already bruised body — but a growl put you back on high alert. 

The walker you took down now laid on its back, reaching for you with its ragged hand. But before it could grab you, you stabbed your knife through its arm, sinking the blade deep into the dirt below.

Now that one arm was securely pinned down, you rolled over the walker so you were straddling it. You spotted a fallen branch about a foot long and grabbed it, holding it high over your head, ready to strike…

And then suddenly, the walker beneath you was no longer just any walker.

Now it wore a stained white t shirt…now it’s throat was ripped open…now it’s warm like honey eyes, bloodshot and filled with unshed tears bored into yours.

“Dad…” you choked out, the noise sounding strangled in your throat as the stick slipped from your hand.

You were paralyzed — you couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. All you could do was stare. Guilt snaked its way into your thoughts — you should be dead right now, you should be the monster, not him.

Then you blinked and suddenly your dad was gone. It was just another walker beneath you, not the figment you just imagined. And before you could react, the biter retched its pinned arm free and grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face closer and closer to its snapping jaws.

Just when the walker was close enough where you could feel its breath on your neck, you saw a flash of silver and the walker was dead — your knife sticking in its temple. And then a pair of strong arms were wrapping around your waist and hoisting you off the dead biter.

You thought you heard someone calling your name, but everything sounded fuzzy — you couldn’t hear past the pounding in your ears. You felt two warm hands grab either side of your face and you realized you were almost nose to nose with Daryl, who had this frantic look on his face but you didn’t know why.

He was mouthing something — no, he was saying something — but you couldn’t understand him. All you could focus on was how fast your heart was racing, how numb your body felt, how you couldn’t catch your breath.

All of the sudden, Daryl had a hand cupped under your chin and was tilting your head up so you were forced to look at him — his touch grounding you. 

You locked eyes, focusing on how blue his eyes were, trying distract yourself from the chaos in your mind — and then you stared at his lips, trying to push past the fogginess so you could understand what he was trying to say.

“Hey, hey…look at me, Y/N, jus’ keep lookin’ at me,” he was saying.

You felt your legs starting to buckle under you, but just before they could give out, Daryl wrapped an arm around your waist and half dragged, half carried you away from the corpses and sat you down against a tree trunk. 

Tremors rocked your body as you leaned against the trunk, feeling the full effect of the panic attack starting to consume you.

But then Daryl appeared, crouching down right in front of you, watching you with worried eyes and you focused on him instead. “Jus’ breathe, Y/N,” he spoke quietly. You did as he said, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath, releasing the air when your lungs started to burn.

You don’t know how long you sat there, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing. When the tightness in your chest finally went away, you slowly opened your eyes. Daryl was still crouched in front of you, never having moved from his spot — and you realized how much comfort his presence brought you.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your head back. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shame.

“Nah, don’t be,” Daryl retorted, shaking his head. “Nothin’ ‘ta be sorry for.”

You turned your head away from him, feeling tears spring to your eyes. You hated feeling out of control. You hated feeling weak. “I promise I’m not always this much of a basket case,” you laughed humorlessly.

Daryl just shrugged his shoulders, completely indifferent. “Basket case or not, ya saved my life.”

“Was nothin’,” you brushed off, calling back his own response from earlier. He just scoffed, the corner of his mouth quirking up before his features settled back to their normal stoic place. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. “You, uh…you should probably get back to your search. That little girl’s still out here somewhere.”

“I ain’t gonna leave ya alone out here,” Daryl immediately shot back. “We got a camp. A farm. Me an’ my people. Good people,” he added for emphasis before doubt flashed through his eyes. “I mean, if ya want. Ya don’t have ‘ta —”

“No, no,” you jumped in. “No, I’d like that.”

Daryl just nodded before pushing off his feet and walking back to where the two of you had taken down the walkers. “We oughta get outta here ‘fore any more of these ugly pricks show up,” he grumbled, grabbing his crossbow and slinging it across his back. He then went over to the walker you had imagined was your dad and yanked your knife out of its skull.

With a heave, you pulled yourself up to a standing position, leaning against the tree. You bit back the pain shooting through your body, ignoring how the world spun around you.

Daryl made his way back to you, surveying the area for any signs of danger. “Here,” he said, handing your knife back to you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, tucking it back into its sheath. “Lead the way,” you offered with a wave of the hand, feeling a little nervous about what the future held for you, this strange man, and his group.

As soon as you took one step, agony shot through your ankle and you hissed in pain. You barely saw Daryl move, but one moment he was behind you and the next, he had slipped an arm around your waist and holding you up.

You stopped and glanced up at him, locking eyes once again. Neither of you spoke, both just taking the other in. You could’ve sworn you saw red flush over Daryl’s face, but in the next moment, it was gone and the two of you were moving forward. When you felt a spasm of pain shoot up your leg, you flinched, leaning heavily into Daryl. “You’re okay, I got ya,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. 

A small smile came across your lips as you held onto him a little tighter. “I know.”


Lance was so fucking stress being a defender of the universe was some stressful shit so Lance needed to…refresh and let some toxins out of his body if you know what I mean and Lance had his problems he was 17 years old boy who was alone in space without any partner.

After their mission Lance really fucked up his little mistake almost got the whole team killed and they where mad as fuck “Lance seriously don’t you ever pay attention?!” Pidge yelled “Lance we warn you the kicks made us unstable why did you do it anyway?” Shiro ask trying to be calm “I thought it was—” Lance said “was what?! A good idea?! You can even beat a gladiator Lance!!” Keith yelled “I’m sorry ok!!” Lance said “do you even care about the this Lance? The universe depend on us” Shiro said “I do care” Lance said “No! No you don’t because if you did you wouldn’t act so wreck less” Allura said “you know what? You’re right I don’t care” Lance said the team…did not expect that “I don’t fucking care I couldn’t care less if I get myself or anybody else killed…I’m Lance remember the fucking goofball of the team who is only here because there where no more options” Lance said and for the very first time the team saw Lance truly mad “But is doesn’t even matter does it? We can all die in any second but I have and advantage you don’t I DONT CARE!!” Lance said “Lance that’s enough calm down” shiro said with a mad tone “you’re being ridiculous” Allura said “yeah man this is so childish” Pidge said “I’m not surprise you act like that” Keith said Lance scoff “you know what? FUCK YOU SHIRO FUCK YOU ALLURA FUCK YOU PIDGE AND FUCK.YOU.KEITH” Lance yelled “Lance just leave ok give us some space” hunk said “ok I’ll fucking leave” Lance said leaving and when he was far away “AND JUST SO YOU KNOW WE ARE ON FUCKING SPACE” Lance yelled why the hell they took it so personal it was a fucking mistake Lance walked to his room and sit on his bed but when he saw down to his pants.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lance said he was having a boner why? Because #YOLO “great just what I needed” Lance said and took off his pants Lance was a bottom being bisexual he gave a try once and it felt amazing so since that day he wasn’t gonna top unless his partner ask for it Lance took a toy he had on his bathroom with some lube cover the toy with lube put some lube in his hand and start to finger himself after he stretch himself he grab the toy that looked like a red egg and insert it “mmmg” Lance let out a little noise he was already panting then he grabbed the control of the vibrator and turn it on skipping the first power “ohhh geez” Lance said he never got tired of that feeling he sit on his bed his back against the wall the toy vibrating inside of him Lance start to moan softly then he raise the power of the vibrator to 4 the little toy could go to 6 Lance had never tried the last power never because in four he was already moaning and panting.

Lance was feeling good so so good but then something took over his mind or should I say someone came to his mind Lance let his right hand slip under his shirt and pinch his nipple like it was someone’s hand “k-” Lance said “Keith~” Lance moan maybe a little too loud Lance was thinking of Keith the one he self proclaim his rival the Keith he said he hated until he convince everyone he did but…he didn’t he loved him and hated himself for yelling at him today he didn’t mean fuck you he more mean fuck me Lance contain his stress and anger to himself but today the team pushed him to his limit and he explote on them but even tho Keith yelled at him telling he couldn’t beat the gladiator Lance couldn’t hate Keith he didn’t not a little not at all because every time he tried to see 1 thing he hated about Keith he found 5 more things he liked “Keith~” Lance said he imagine Keith touching him playing with his nipples and biting his neck leaving marks Keith was posesive with what was his so Lance wonder what would’ve happen if Keith felt like Lance was his the thought of that made Lance moan “Keith~~” damn it he need Keith to be here “now why the fuck are you—” Keith said walking in Lance room the door closing behind him shit never mind Lance didn’t need Keith there he he was so embarrassed but couldn’t stop because what would happen Keith already saw him.

Keith couldn’t believe his eyes Lance was…gorgeous Keith couldn’t stop himself from staring at Lance his long legs his flush face the was he was panting Keith had to admit Lance was the most gorgeous asshole he ever seen in his entire life

Lance tried to cover his mouth to stop his moans didn’t know that was making him looked was hotter there was silence the only thing that was sounding was the vibrator making echo inside of Lance “g-get….o-o-out” Lance said Keith ignore him and keep staring at him Lance felt how his skin burn he feel like Keith was making a whole through his chest with his stare Lance reach to pull the vibrator off his ass but his left arm couldn’t hold his weight anymore making him fall in the bed and the movement made the vibrator hit Lance prostate Lance let out a choked moan “get…out” Lance said shit this was so embarrassing “you where calling my name” Keith said dark violet eyes staring at Lance “do you masturbate thinking on me?” Keith ask Lance didn’t answer “Keith….get….out” Lance said Keith walked to Lance “n-no!….get aw- Ahhh~~” Lance moan when Keith upload the vibrator power to 5 “answer me” Keith said “you masturbate thinking of me? Did it turn you on when I yelled at you?” Keith ask where the hell did this smut Keith came from? “Answer me Lance” Keith said “c-could you…a-ask again?” Lance said trying to look cocky “do.you.masturbate.thinking.about.me?” Keith said slowly like Lance was retarded.

Lance pride didn’t let him talk like hell he would let Keith know, Keith lean and kissed Lance neck making Lance moan “answer me” Keith said bitting and sucking a spot on Lance neck “y-yes…I do” Lance whisper “what? I couldn’t hear you?” Keith said fucker you did hear me

“Lance I said I didn’t hear you” Keith said “I do damn it I do” Lance said with a deep moan “you do what?” Keith ask “you b-bastard….” Lance said Keith raise an eyebrow playing with the power of the vibrator raising it and lowing it like a kid playing with the lights switch “I-I do m-m-masturbate….oh god…t-thinking a-about y-y-you” Lance manage to say “mmmm you do huh?” Keith said and lick his lips “but you told me ‘Fuck you’ today just a few doboshes ago didn’t you?” Keith said “or…did you mean fuck me?” Keith said ohhhh that motherfucker knew Lance nod “you know you yelled at your team and said you didn’t care about our life’s” Keith said “what a misbehave boy are you” Keith licked his lips again “what was what you said? 'I don’t fucking care I couldn’t care less if I get myself or anybody else killed’ wasn’t it?” Keith said Lance nod “I’m gonna punish you for that” Keith said took a hair tie from the pocket of his jacket and tie it around the base of Lance cock, Lance yelp at the action “today I’m gonna make you beg like you’ve never begged before” Keith said.

Keith raised the power of the vibrator at 6 Lance moan loudly Keith start sucking hickeys on Lance tan skin “lock the door Lance” Keith said Lance could only moan in response “or would you rather that everyone walk in and saw you riding my cock Huh? Would you like that been see like the filthy whore you are?” Keith said licking Lance nipple “s-s-sec-curity l-lock o-on” Lance said and the door lock “Keith…please I need…AhHhHHhH” Lance said but end up moaning “you need what?” Keith said, he grab Lance erection and put it into his mouth “KEITH~~~💕💕” Lance said moaning really loud Keith start moving his mouth swallowing Lance cock and let go with a loud pop making the blue paladin whine at the lost “pfff you always say girl will die for you but your dick is so small” Keith said “s-shut up j-jerk” Lance said “hey did I say you could talk?” Keith said “Keith…Keith take that off….I want—I need to cum” Lance said “oh no no no you where such a misbehave child today you’re gonna have to convince me to let you cum so be a good boy and I might let you cum” Keith said “Lance…on your knees” Keith said pulling Lance out of the bed Lance went into his knees and Keith pulled off his pants letting Lance see his rock hard dick “I don’t want you to use your hands” Keith said something about his voice made Lance obey as he lean and got Keith’s dick inside of his mouth “yeah just like that” Keith said “lick the head” Keith order Lance went back and focuse on licking Keith’s dick Keith groan and buck his hips as he grip Lance hair and starts to fuck Lance mouth Keith was groaning and moaning until he came on Lance mouth “swallow it” Keith said “now to the main event” Keith said picked Lance and drop him into the bed “Keith Keith please….please” Lance said “please what?” Keith said “please fuck me” Lance said “…beg me” Keith said Lance shook his head “I want you to beg me or I’ll leave” Keith said.

“NO! No don’t leave” Lance cried “then beg” Keith said “please…please Keith—baby I want— need you to burry you dick inside of me and drive me crazy please baby” Lance said “good boy” Keith said and push his dick inside of Lance “so good…you feel so good Lance” Keith said or well moan Keith start to rock his hip but he was going too slow it was a slow trust and then back inside slower Lance was impatient “K-Keith faster” Lance said “nope…beg” Keith said “a-are y-you gonna have me b-begging all t-the time?” Lance ask “I told you I’m punishing you for all you yelled today” Keith said “please!!! Keith I need you” Lance said at the edge of tears “fine” keith said and switch from turtle to Chita the trust where fast and rough making Lance moan so hard “Keith Keith I need to-to cum please it hurts” Lance said “beg” Keith said Lance snap and start to cry.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I yelled I’m sorry I said I didn’t care I do care I just snap I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything of what I said to you guys so please please” Lance said crying Keith stop moving “shhhh don’t cry baby don’t cry” Keith said and get the hair tie off “but don’t ever said that again you’re not here just because there was no one else you’re special Lance ok? You’re special for everyone for me” Keith said kissing Lance tears “I love you” Lance said “I love you too Lance” Keith said and start to move his hips again making Lance shake what the fuck it felt different this time what was happening? “C'mon Baby cum for me” Keith said and rock his hips faster this time hitting Lance prostate like he always knew where it was “cum for me baby” Keith said Lance start moaning louder then last time “w-what?” Lance said “what’s wrong?” Keith ask “it-it feels better than b-before what are you?” Lance ask and Keith kissed him passionately and sweet ohhhh that was happening Keith was being posesive and tender now the way he was fucking—no making love to Lance was a way to say “you’re mine”

“C'mon Baby I know you want to cum so do it cum for me” Keith said Lance moan into his orgasm spilling cum all over his and Keith belly then he felt hot something hot was inside of him it was Keith’s cum Keith let his body fell on top of Lance both of them panting “I’m sorry for what I said” Lance said Keith place his finger on Lance lips “shhhh I know” he said he bit Lance collarbone and make sure he leave a hella dark hickey there “Mine” Keith said against Lance body he smiled “yours” Lance said Keith lift himself grab Lance hand and put it on his chest “yours” Keith said Lance smiled “Mine” Keith lean and kissed Lance tender and sweet he’ll let Lance go to apologize tomorrow now Keith wasn’t going to let Lance leave the bed.



“D-do we tell them the walls aren’t noise prove?” Pidge said with her hands in front of her “and that the castle has an incredibly loud echo” she complete “Nope” shiro said “they don’t need to know we heard them…” shiro said “fuck” Pidge said

QUARTET NIGHT LIVE Evolution 2017 - 2017/02/12 - REPORT Part ①

Do NOT repost
You can post the link but not the content.

As usually, not 100% accurate with the order, especially the talks, so much happened but I’m surprised with how much I remember.


I went to the Live Viewing at Saitama.
They sold goods at each cinema during their open time.

My cinema opened at 8am and I got to the the place just after 7am, there was already about 60-100 people lined up.

There were Shoutan fans!! They wore the PRISM long Tshirt and had the bags, I briefly acknowledged them. I had my PRISM Itta bag with me too (and a tiny Ai-chan itta bag).

We started moving a few minutes before 8am.

I kept thinking how they are selling the goods, do we tick what we want from a sheet? Do we buy at the till and tell the staff what we want?

I was too distracted while walking in, my eyes briefly glanced at the goods on the table to my left. I kept walking on.


I realised you just pick up what you want along the way and quickly snatched the pamphlet!
The next thing, oh the clothes…  It’s pretty dark grey, hmm, just one left…
Picks up to look at, about to put it back
I quickly held it close to me tightly.
THE LAST ONE!! 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。
Most things were gone already! 😭
Only one Live towel left, I think there was 2 bags, I’m sure there was tshirts, but again my mind was somewhere else and never picked them up 😭
The next thing I picked up was Ai-chan’s brooch, there was some left along with Reiji’s, barely any character towels left.
Some light sticks

The charms were all gone too, but I wasn’t going for them.

There was quite a few fans left, Ai-chan’s had the most.
I made a last minute decision to get one to make up for not being able to get the other goods I wanted.

So, I got the pamphlet, cardigan, brooch and fan.
Plus 2 random keychains for spending over a certain amount
*Will upload pics later*

I opened the first random packet, Ranran came out, not too bad, next one was Camus.
Ai-chan~~~~ 😭

I went to the crowd of fans to try and exchange for Ai-chan, and if possible the QN logo

I seen the Shoutan fans again, they obviously would want Ai-chan, skip.
Where’s Ai-chan~~~

Ah!! Ai-chan!!
I asked the girl who she was looking for and she said “Camus-sama” SCORE!
Put Ai-chan’s one away, kinda still want the logo~

I stood for a while holding Ranran’s one
And then a girl came to me asking if they can get Ranran for the logo
Mission complete 💜
And now to roam about for 6 hours or so before the live (omg I was SOOOO bored! 😩)

Came back to the theatre and went to the screen, my seat was 7th row from the front

The girl next to me was wearing the Long T! Yeyy
Fan: are you Mikaze Ai’s fan?
Me: Yes~ Shoutan’s fan? ✨
Fan: Hai sou desu (yes that’s correct)
Me: Yatta! XD
Fan: Yatta ^^ Yoroshiku onegaishimasu
Me: Yoroshiku onegaishimasu~

I asked her name, she’s Yukina.

The screen was showing the Live logo and then changed to the goods

Not long after it showed the venue!!!!

Ahh!! It was beautiful!! All monochrome
Part of the stage set was decorated with their character colours

We were saying how amazing it looks and she said it’s very QN-like ✨

She was like “yabai yabai!!”
I’m so glad a Shoutan, and a vocal fan is next to me!!
For the past lives I’ve been to, apart from Shoutan’s Osaka live(sat with a friend)
Every stranger I’ve sat next to are SO quiet!
Yeyy! It’s gna be fun! XD

We both freaked out

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anonymous asked:

Hii, could you please do more Fanboy!Tae HCs please???

Yoongi remembers the first time he ever saw Taehyung jealous. It was actually so hilarious and a fun time for him. Yoongi’s usually the only to pout and glare at the boys Taehyung pulls with him to events and for once it’s Taehyung being pouty and grumpy literally Yoongi wants to milk it for all it’s worth because the younger is so fucking cute!!!

It’s during a fan sign in Seoul. Taehyung arrives at the usual location dressed up in his best outfit and carrying his favorite camera to capture any cute poses his boyfriend might do in his direction. It catches him off guard for a moment, though, when he lines up and none of the normal fan masters he interacts with come up to say hello like before. 

His eyebrows scrunch together and he looks around to notice that most of the fan masters are in a circle a little further ahead of the line. 

“Hey, Yoona! What’s going on over there?” 

Taehyung smiles as he spots and talks to one of the Seokjin fan masters he’s gotten close with. She’s a cute girl who always has a Mario plush with her and wants Soekjin to call her baby girl and also one of the few persons that knows of Taehyung’s and Yoongi’s relationship. The girl giggles and covers her mouth before her eyes shut into half moons with her grin and Taehyung himself can’t help but grinning. 

Until she speaks. 

“There’s a new Yoongi fanboy! You remember how wild it was when you first came, they are just excited to see another boy.” 

The grin on his face falls and he wants to say something else but before he can the staff is asking them to line up and of course, of fucking course, the boy lines up right in front of Taehyung. He doesn’t even try to hide his frown. The boy is fucking adorable as fuck. His hair is dyed silver, to match Yoongi’s Taehyung notices, and his almond eyes are lined in sharp dark black liner with light red shadow covering the lids. Really if Taehyung thinks about  it the boy looks similar to himself and that thought only pisses him off more when he sees the boy wearing a shirt that reads “Suga’s boyfriend!” on it.  The boy grins when he sees Taehyung. 

“Hello, I’m Baekhyun! Are you a fanboy too? Ah i bet your girlfriend dragged you here right?” 

Taehyung just points to his camera that hangs around his neck and more specifically the card taped to the camera that reads “Sugas_Sweets.” Baekhyun’s mouth drops open.


Thankfully before Baekhyun can try talking to him more the line begins moving and the fans are aloud to enter the building. Taehyung quickly looks for Yoongi and his mood instantly brightens when he notices Yoongi is already staring at him with a gummy smile on his face. His mood again is dropped when he hears Baekhyun squeal followed by “Holy shit Suga hyung is so handsome!!” 

He’s really not normally the jealous type but something about Baekhyun gets the possessive juices in him flowing. The boy is pretty, fucking gorgeous really, and Yoongi’s type. It makes Taehyung frown.  

“Did you get Hyung a gift? I got him this signed Eminem cd and some of his favorite candies!” 

Baekhyun is tossing an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder as he talks and Taehyung tries to focus on getting quality pictures of his boyfriend, and some of Namjoon for Kyungsoo, he really just wants to toss his camera because he knows Yoongi is going to fucking love that gift. It’s not a competition but Taehyung wants nothing more than to casually toss out a “I sucked his dick last night that’s a good enough gift.” but he stops himself. Instead he just smiles and shakes his head. 

“I go to every event. Yoongi asked i stop getting him gifts because my love and support is enough for him.” 

It’s their turn to meet the boys at the table and he counts it as a win when he sees Baekhyun look a bit jealous at the way Yoongi lights up when he notices Taehyung is in line. Most fans themselves have just figured Taehyung is Yoongi’s favorite fan site and that’s why the rapper lights up whenever he sees him. Taehyung knows it’s really because his boyfriend is a giant sap that loves when Taehyung shows his fanboy side. Sadly the way the line is set up has Baekhyun going to see Yoongi before Taehyung does. 

He watches with a frown as Baekhyun hands his gifts to Yoongi and Yoongi’s eyes shine when he sees the Eminem cd. Baekhyun raises his hand and Taehyung assumes he’s asking for a high five until he sees Yoongi link their fingers together for a few seconds. It makes his stomach turn unhappily as Baekhyun blushes when he makes eye contact with Yoongi and Yoongi himself laughs at how fucking cute Baekhyun is. 

The staff push him along and Yoongi laughs again when Taehyung sits in front of him with a pout. 

“He’s cute.” 

Yoongi teases his boyfriend and Taehyung huffs. 

“I’m turning into a Namjoon fan site.” 

Of course they both know he’s lying and Yoongi laces their fingers together as he coos. 

“Kyungsoo would kill you if you did.”

They don’t have much time together and Taehyung knows Yoongi has a packed schedule so they won’t get to have any secret dates anytime soon so he tries to smile as he hands over some sticky notes with questions for Yoongi to answer. One of them has a question that reads “Hyung what is your ideal type?” and he winks as he writes down “Pretty boys that pout when they are jealous and have purple hair.” 

Taehyung leaves with a blush on his face as staff ask him to move on. Damn Yoongi can be so smooth sometimes. 

Yoongi laughs the moment he reads the text. He knows, thanks to Taehyung, how much the fans are fearing for his hair now that a new comeback has been announced and although Yoongi already knows he’s keeping his dark hair he decides to tease Taehyung. 

He uploads an old selfie he has on his phone that was never posted onto twitter with his hair a bright orange, from when he was in the middle of bleaching it, before texting Taehyung back. 

“You haven’t checked Twitter?” 

A little bit of worry runs through him when twenty minutes pass and he’s gotten no reply from his boyfriend.  Another ten minutes go by and finally Yoongi texts his Taehyung again. 

“Are you okay?” 

What he receives is a picture of Taehyung in front of the bighit building with the words “BRB fighting Bang PD.” under it. 


It’s hard on them sometimes. Not always sunshine’s and rainbows. Sometimes they fight and it’s so ugly because they care for each other so much. Yoongi has idol friends that are just so fucking rude sometimes and there the ones that know about him dating a fan and they put words into his head that normally he wouldn’t think about. 

“What if he’s only with you because of the fame?” 

“He only likes you because you’re Suga.” 

“Once the excitement of being with an idol wears off he’ll leave you and go to a magazine about your relationship.” 

Yoongi’s so stressed out when Taehyung calls to tell him about how much he loves the new mv and talk about it he just snaps. 

“Can you please just shut up about the music video.” 

Taehyung goes silent for a moment before trying to change the subject to maybe cheer Yoongi on for his next concert. Yoongi knows he’s being a dick but again the stress it there and the lack of sleep and the words from his friends creep up and he just can’t handle it. 

“All you ever want to fucking talk about is concerts and music videos and it’s so fucking annoying can you just stop being such a fucking fan for once! I’m sorry i don’t want to be your idol boyfriend Suga today you can leech from me later.” 

The line clicks as Taehyung hangs up their call before Yoongi can even realize he’s taken out his stress on his boyfriend. Of course the younger doesn’t answer any attempts Yoongi makes to call him back. It just makes everything hurt more when a few days pass and Yoongi doesn’t see Taehyung at the fan event that he knew for sure the younger had tickets to. Yoongi checks twitter and his gut drops when he sees the top tweet. 

Sugas_Sweets: Hello it’s admin of S_S, for the first time ever S_S will be going on hiatus. Thank you for understanding.

He tries one more time to text Taehyung. “Am i really losing my favorite fan site?” and of course he feels like a dick when Taehyung text him back. “Clearly it bothers you that i’m a fan so i’ll stop.” 

That same day he nearly runs to Taehyung’s apartment as soon as he gets the free time. He has no idea what he’s going to say or do but he knows he needs to fix things with his boyfriend. He never really realized how much he looked forward to seeing Taehyung at events and concerts until the younger hadn’t showed up. He sees it coming when he knocks on the door and Kyungsoo answers just to slam the door back shut when he sees who it is. He’s always been protective over Taehyung and Yoongi is ready to fight his way into the house if he has too to get to Taehyung. Thankfully the younger opens the door a few minutes later. 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything before pulling him into a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry i’m a fucking asshole. I love your support and i love that you’re my fan and that you are there to cheer me on and i didn’t mean anything i said i just let some stupid words some people said get to me and i’m sorry.” 

He hates that Taehyung’s eyes are red, probably from crying, and the younger sighs as if he’s given up. 

“You know i’m dating you because you’re Yoongi right? I love Min Yoongi the man that snores too loud and is picky about his ramen. I don’t care if you are Suga of BTS i love Min Yoongi and i only talk about your work so much because i want you to know how proud i am of you.”

Yoongi nods. He does know that he just fucked up and he says so as he holds the love of his life to him. Taehyung finally hugs him back.

“I love you, stupid. If you make me cry again i’ll get Kyungsoo to kick your ass.” 

Yoongi just chuckles.

“I love you, too brat.” 

I’m Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3, 261

Warning/s: Mentions of death, Shouting, Violence, Angst and a little Fluff

Summary: Reader got sick so Steve decided to put her out of a mission, but reader doesn’t like it and ended up having a fight with his best friend, Steve. Steve asked Bucky to take care of her (bringing all the fluff into the story).Eventually, feelings were revealed. (Whose feelings? You’ll know once you read it ;) )

A/N: This was previously uploaded in a different tumblr account, but she deactivated (and I miss her soooooo! :( ) so reuploaded it here. I submitted this for a Christmas drabble challenge wherein we right a fic based on a Christmas song. Mine’s Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. (Y/N = Your Name, Y/F/N = Your Full Name)

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Submitted by @rynnwolfe

(Hello! You answered an ask about how a very ‘Bim Trimmer’ sort of song is “Angel on Fire” by Halsey, and I looked it up, which prompted this story-snippet. I imagine that the Egos have never really experienced any of the others ‘fading’ before, at least not first-hand. I hope you enjoy the Plant Boy Suffering!)

Their first hint toward something wrong was the wilting plant in the hallway. Silver was the one to notice it, though he was typically too busy falling over himself to observe those small sort of details; maybe he had fallen into the plant on one of his ‘perimeter checks’. He had dutifully carried the pot to Dark’s office, leaving a trail of dirt across the entire building, placing it as carefully as he could onto Dark’s desk without so much as knocking on his door. The pale Ego was understandably upset, though he paused in his breaking, glitching spasm when he noticed just how sorry the foliage was looking. The entire plant was losing its color, ugly brown splotches indicating exactly how long it had gone without water. Silver didn’t have to say a word for Dark to understand his fears.

“Bim most likely forgot about this one. It is in one of the lower wings of the building, after all.”
    Silver slammed his oversized hands on Dark’s desk - pent up energy and confidence that he had recently gained from Mark’s newest Ego video, in which the superhero had starred - and locked eyes with the more powerful Ego.

“Does that sound like Bim to you?”

They had found Wilford already at their destination: the door marked with a star, upon which was etched “THE Bim Trimmer”. Wilford was impatiently knocking for all he was worth, his bubblegum-pink mustache twitching with severe irritation. He reached for his gun, Dark quickly stopping him with a hand on the pink Ego’s shoulder.

“What’s going on here, Wil?”

“What’s going on?” Wilford spoke with his usual dramatic flair and threw his hands up in exasperation “this good for nothing is late for his curtain call, again! I have half a mind to fire him, and half a mind to shoot him!” He gave a sharp kick to the door, which remained steadfast and its interior unnervingly silent.

Dark’s grip on Wilford’s shoulder tightened enough to make the pink Ego duck down away from the touch with a small yelp. The eccentric Ego took the hint and slided away from the entrance to Bim’s room, leaving Dark to knock four distinct times. The door, in response, shook subtly before disintegrating into what would best be described as ash.

“Well, I could have done that.” Wilford huffed, then quieted as Dark held up a hand.

A strange atmosphere fell from the room, now unhindered by the heavy door; the feeling of growing things and fresh oxygen that was usually prominent in Bim’s room clearly absent. The three Egos were quiet, a feeling of dread beginning to take hold of them. Dark was the first to step over the threshold, followed (probably too closely) by Wilford, and Silver trailing behind the two more powerful Egos, his large gloved hands still holding the sickly potted plant.   

“Bim?” Dark’s voice echoed almost too much in the Ego’s room; it felt sterile and dead.

There was a sudden skittering of claws against hardwood flooring, prompting WIlford to bring his gun out in a flash, Dark to take a small step back, and Silver to hold the plant near his face as if it would protect him from whatever was about to round the corner. A blur of green shot across the floor, and suddenly Poppy was trying to crawl her way up Wilford’s pant-leg, a sort of guttural whining emitting from her throat. The pink Ego was quick to scoop her up into his arms, holding her like a baby - how Bim always cradled her - and gently pick at the drooping flower that grew from the dragon’s forehead. With closer inspection, it was obvious that Poppy was in as bad of shape as the plant that Silver still carried; her scales were browning at the edges, and her flower had perhaps a third of its usual petals. Her eyes were dull and looked uncomfortably dry, causing the little creature to blink every few moments. Dark looked at WIlford with rising impatience that, if he were honest (which was rarely) stemmed from the trepidation that was forming like a rock in his stomach.

“Wil, precisely how late has Trimmer been to curtain call?”

The pink Ego looked up from his concerned examination of Poppy, his eyes flicking around different points of Dark’s face to try and understand exactly what he was getting at.

“I suppose that depends on what day it is today; you know I was never one for keeping time.”

Dark growled, making the dragon in WIlford’s arm (and WIlford, to a lesser extent) shiver. The pale Ego took a moment to let his shell crack, then walked swiftly in the direction from which Poppy had run. This room was Bim’s favorite: his indoor greenhouse of sorts, what had once been an office with a wall of windows and now had shelves of his precious plants. Every one of which were utterly shriveled and dead. Dark halted in his tracks at this sight, causing Silver to bump into his back and then drop the potted plant to the ground, with the telltale crack of ceramic shattering. Wilford came into the room in response, holding a now-watered Poppy, the dragon already beginning to look mildly perked up. A quiet curse passed his lips at the sorry sight of Bim’s precious plant friends. Silver took the brief pause to brush dirt from the back of Dark’s otherwise immaculate suit, then step back hastily as the Ego walked over to the small desk in the corner of the room.

The chair had been left a foot or so from the desk itself, as if the person sitting in it had suddenly sprung up and walked away. Dark began a methodical search of the area, noting the uncapped pen that had rolled onto the floor. When he bent down to retrieve it, he found a pale green envelope lying face-down under the desk as well. The address written on it in Bim’s neat scrawl was one Dark knew well: Mark’s. Though the envelope was already sealed, the pale Ego felt that all courtesy could be thrown out the metaphorical window in the given circumstances; with one deft movement, he had ripped one end open and coaxed the letter out of its casing. Unfolding it, Dark read the contents quickly, his permanent frown growing deeper as the letter progressed.

‘Mark,’ the correspondence began, Bim’s handwriting neat but slightly dramatic, just like his personality, ‘I hope it’s not a bother that I’m having Amy bring you this letter - though I put the address just in case she doesn’t visit for a while. I know you’re busy, and everyone here appreciates what you’ve been doing for us on your channel. Google was especially pleased with his video, and I know Ed’s over the moon about how his turned out!’

Dark skipped the half-dozen lines detailing exactly how much Bim enjoyed each video that Mark uploaded, rolling his eyes at the flattery and finally finding the important information. He noted that the Ego’s writing had begun to get smaller and shakier as the letter went on.

‘I’ve started to feel…off. Sort of empty, like not all of me is there anymore. I understand that you’re saving the best for last-’

Dark let a huff of air pass his lips in what could be described as a rueful laugh, ignoring Wilford’s impatient shuffling as he stood back in the doorway, seemingly afraid of entering this dead room..

‘-but I don’t know how much time I have left. I’m getting worried. Poppy’s restless around me, I think she knows something is wrong. I don’t want to be forgotten, Mark. Of course, I know you and Amy will never forget me, but I don’t think that’s enough to keep me here anymore. I can’t go yet; Wilford needs me, Poppy needs me, Reginald, Mattias, Rupert, Annabelle, Thomas, Bryan, J-Fred, and all my other plants need me. I don’t know how else to say it: I’m scared and I need your help.’

The signature at the end of the letter was sloppy, lacking its usual finesse and blotched with excess ink in a few places. Dark stood there a few moments more, his mind drawing rapid conclusions, then he neatly folded the letter up and placed it back into the envelope. Then, with a quick turn on his heel, the pale Ego stepped past Wilford and Silver, ignoring their sudden questions and increasingly vehement demands for explanation. He pressed the letter into Silver’s hands as he walked past toward the exit until Wilford’s hand gripped his shoulder far too tightly and spun him around. There was murder and a surprising level of parental panic in the pink Ego’s eyes, which were frantically searching Dark’s face for any hints as to what he had read.

“Where the hell is Bim, Dark?!”

Dark let his shell splinter for a few brief moments, showing anger and a bitter sadness that made Wilford draw back in shock. Then the pale Ego adjusted his suit and looked Wilford in the eye; a small spark of sympathy in their vast depths.

“Bim is gone.”

Saved by the Bell | 1

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Taehyung!HighSchoolTeacher AU

Taehyung x Reader

I’ll add links to chapters here later.

Word Count: 7253

Genre: Fluff, future angst, aaaaannnnddd what I know all you hoes are after: future smut (hahaha not that I can say much).

Summary: Being a teacher is not easy, especially when you’re teaching emotional, hormonal teenagers who don’t give a flying fuck about school. What’s even worse is when you have to deal with all of the dumb drama that comes with being human and unfortunately still very active in society. Taehyung is one of those people who makes your life more stressful than it should be, and his constant teasing is one day going to be too much, you’re sure of it. What you’re not sure of, however, is how you feel about him.

A/N: Guess who’s back??? That’s right peeps! This would have been uploaded yesterday, but my flight got grounded, so I got in last night… Anywho, this may be a surprise, but it is not the surprise. That’s still in progress haha… Other fics and requests are also in progress, so I’m hoping you guys won’t have to wait forever! I’ve been wanting to write this one since last November (along with others that I will announce later, so be prepared!), and I finally got inspiration to write it, so it here it is! Enjoy!

Song: What You Know by Two Door Cinema

Why did every day start like this?

“Goood morning Ms. Y/L/N!” Taehyung drawls with a wide grin set on his visage as he sidles up beside you with his usual black and white travel mug filled with steaming dark roast.

You roll your eyes at his repetitiveness, responding with the usual sigh and snub as every day before, choosing not to take the bait that his choice of words always tempted.

Taehyung scoffed, blatant insincerity spread across his features. “Tsk tsk Ms. Y/L/N. are you really going to not respond to your beloved co-worker? How very rude of you…” Taehyung clicks his tongue in disapproval of your actions, or lack thereof, and steps in front of you in attempt to stop your futile efforts of escape.

“Now, now Miss. There is no need for such rude behavior so early in the morning! What have I ever done to deserve as such?” Taehyung grasps at his heart with his free hand, clutching tightly to the striped button up as if he were truly holding on to his “hurt feelings.”

You roll your eyes, and step around him, not willing to give in to his ridiculous act. “Taehyung, you know exactly why we go through this every morning, but I will admit that in fact, I do not, and this repetitiveness is making me dizzy. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather like to escape your aggravating throes, and arrive in my classroom in good humor (not that I really can now, seeing as you have already ruined my high spirits this once-fine morning).”

Taehyung gasps in false anguish, allowing you to pass him, but continues to trail on your heels in hopes of achieving further aggravation on your part (at least, that’s what you believed he was doing).

“Ms. Y/L/N, I would never intentionally ruin your morning, let alone your typically wonderful temperament, seeing as you are usually so… Pleasant.”

You stop walking, eye twitching in annoyance as you turn sharply in the direction of Taehyung.

“Mr. Kim, I sincerely hope that you are not implying what I think you are. That would be rather rude of you to do so in light of the general rules of human decency.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, an infuriating smirk clear on his equally maddeningly attractive face. “Oho? Is that so? Well, would you be so kind as to enlighten me on what you think I might be attempting to imply?”

Your eye twitches again, and you pull your arms across your chest in a defensive stance, your foot tapping in impatience upon the grimy school tile floor.

“You seem to be implying that I have a bad temperament. Am I incorrect?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the accusation. “Oh no, I would never say such a thing about someone as lovely as you, Ms. Y/L/N! You must have misunderstood my emphasis on the word pleasant! It was meant as a compliment!” He smiles at you knowingly, and your rage flares at the realization.

You huff, and turn on your heel to stomp off in the direction of your classroom. “Whatever Kim!” You yell behind you, hearing a deep chuckle resonate down the hallway, vibrating through your body, and you shiver.


Keep reading

As a new era starts, we’ll never forget Doctor-Clara

Later today, a new era begins. Of course, the Doctor-Clara era technically ended some 16 months ago on TV, about a year ago in other media like comics and audio books, and we’ve already had two post-Clara specials since she left in her TARDIS in “Hell Bent”, but, as we enter into the Bill Potts and Nardole era (which I’ve seen referred to on Twitter as “Life After Clara” 😢 ), this is one of my last opportunities to post an appreciation of this remarkable, and I think we’re going to have to start calling it underrated, pairing before this new era begins.

Right now, we do not know if we’ll ever see these two together on screen again before Peter moves on. It should happen. It may happen. Or it may not happen. There are just as many reasons why it might not happen as it may happen. Some are creative - Jenna herself has said she doesn’t want to pick away at Clara’s finale and Steven Moffat may not be able to come up with a suitable return scenario; some may be logistical - Jenna also may simply not be available due to her Victoria commitments (timing, her contract may not allow it, etc).

But even if it doesn’t happen, we will still have had close to 40 amazing episodes of the Doctor and Clara (including minisodes). Were they all perfect? Of course not. I feel Twelve and Clara were separated far too much in Series 9 and I think the powers that be did make a few mistakes. I am of two minds with regards to Danny, for instance. On the one hand I think it was a mistake attempting to break up the Doctor and Clara in this way; on the other hand - Danny was a catalyst for two of the season’s most remarkable episodes, “Listen” and “Dark Water,” and was indirectly responsible for Whouffaldi shooting into high gear at the end of “Mummy on the Orient Express.”

There were also moments that I felt at times the powers that be displayed a bit of a tin ear to what the fans wanted - and despite the attempts to rewrite history by the media and some fan critics, a lot of people were pulling for them - such as building up Clara and Eleven into a full-fledged romance and then seemingly falling victim to ageism attitudes and taking that away with Twelve. Remembering that at this point as far as everyone was concerned River’s story was done, with Eleven even agreeing to River being described as his ex in “The Name of the Doctor” - the show all but had Clara on the fast track to become for all intents and purposes the Doctor’s next wife. (Watch the “She Said He Said” prequel and listen to what Eleven says about Clara.) It took them to Series 9 to start building that back up again, just in time for Clara to leave. In his interview with Wil Wheaton, Capaldi said depicting the romance this way was “more fun”. Perhaps, but it was “more frustrating,” too, remembering that once Danny was out of the way there were only six episodes, out of the 13 including Last Christmas, in which the Doctor and Clara were actually together for a substantial length of time: Last Christmas, Under the Lake, The Girl Who Died, Sleep No More, Face the Raven and Hell Bent (even if that wasn’t Bonnie in the Zygon story, the two would have only been on screen together for about 5 minutes out of the 90 not counting the speech). The rest of the time they were split up.

But that’s yesterday. Today, we look back on things like the Hammer pastiche “The Crimson Horror,” the modern-day remake of “The War Machines” that was “The Bells of Saint John,” the uber-romantic holiday specials “The Snowmen” and “Last Christmas,” “Listen,” “Mummy on the Orient Express” - which even had skeptics saying “Get a room, you two!” - “Dark Water’s” amazing volcano scene, “The Caretaker” and “Robot of Sherwood” showing the Doctor in full green-eyed monster mode, the Second Doctor throwback “Under the Lake”/”Before the Flood” (except Zoe never challenged the Doctor to prove his love for her by changing history), Jenna’s BAFTA-worthy villain turn in the Zygon storyline, and of course the Raven Trilogy which needs no further introduction.

And I could write forever on the towering chemistry between Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman, and between Matt Smith and Jenna Coleman. This wouldn’t have worked if Steven Moffat and his team hadn’t chosen perfectly when they cast Clara, who clicked so well with Matt that I remember the rumours back in 2013 that they were dating, and they later found in Peter an actor who managed to match and exceed the chemistry shown between Matt and Jenna, to the point where if you didn’t know he was married, they could easily have been mistaken for a real-life couple.

So in some respects for me this is a “final” goodbye to Whouffaldi, Whouffle, and any of the other shipping names associated with these two, and to Doctor x Clara in general - the best pairing this show has seen since Tom Baker and Lis Sladen were in the TARDIS, but only because as of tonight it becomes the Doctor and Bill (and Nardole) show. Which is as it has to be as this is Doctor Who, where even the lead actor is only around for a few years. But of course it won’t be the end. Just as Steven Moffat couldn’t let River Song rest in peace (with the repeated references to her sounding more and more forced as we go along), I have no intention of letting Doctor/Clara fade away. Even as I watch and hopefully enjoy the Bill Potts era, I still hope to find more things to write about here on Tumblr about Twelve and Clara, and I have no less than a dozen Whouffaldi fanfic stories in some form of progress for eventual uploading to AO3. And I know the fan artists, the gifset makers, and others will continue to find new ways to commemorate this pairing. Whouffle/Whouffaldi is going nowhere.

And who knows, maybe sometime in the next 12 weeks - or 8 months from now as the Christmas special approaches - we’ll be pleasantly surprised. I mean, after all, John Simm, a well-known actor, apparently managed to film his return as the Master without anyone knowing about it, right? 

Take A Break (Hayes Grier)

I sat on my bed cross legged and tried to open the physics textbook for the 5th time in 2 hours. I know the exam’s tomorrow but oh my gosh it’s painful.

I close my eyes and take a breath. Okay, Y/N, pull it together, I tell myself. All you have to do is get a 71 and you pass with a C+, just enough to keep a 3.5 GPA.

A hand settles itself on my bare thigh. My eyes open and stare at Hayes for a second, whose on his phone acting as if nothing happened. Even though it’s distracting as hell, I take it as a supportive gesture and try to focus back on the task at hand. I’m getting deep into relativity theories when his he starts running his hand back and forth across my leg, lightly and lazily. I look back at him again but he stills pays no attention to me and I try to get back to what I’m doing.

Eventually, he starts moving around, now sitting up slightly behind me instead of laying down next to me. At first I ignore him, until he starts messing around with a bit of my hair- twirling it around his finger, running his hands through it, even leaning close to me to smell it.

“Your hair smells good,” he comments, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Stop it,” I say.

“Stop what?”

“Distracting me! I’m trying to study here, you know I need a good grade on this last exam.”

“I know, babe. I also know that you’ve been studying like this for days. Haven’t you heard it’s best to just rest and relax the day before the test, so you’re calm going into it?”

“Never heard that in my life,” I respond.

“Well, it works,” he says, burying his nose in the crook of my neck, pecking it a few times.

I shy away and try to scooch over so we’re not so close, but he just takes the opportunity to close the book and pull me closer, nearly onto his laps.

“You should take a break,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“You know what?” I ask rhetorically. “I should. I’mma go get a snack, you stay here.”

I move to hop off the bed but he pulls me back, pushing me onto the bed on my back. He leans over me, “Maybe later,” he says, clearly amused.

He lowers his head and I’m lost as our lips touch. At the start it’s gentle, caring, his lips barely brush mine. His arms are holding him up above me, mine wrap around his neck in surrender. At my first sigh he grows more intense, pressing his lips harder mine. I eagerly accept and use what little strength I have to pull his full weight on top of me.

He groans and pushes at my lips, forcing me to open them on a moan. I let him in and only our need for each other carries us. He’s taken over my senses, just like every time we do this. It feels as if the world is spinning around us instead of the sun, and everything else is just a passerby while we’re the only true movement, the only real people left.

Our kiss, however passionate it may be, is full of youthful mistakes. Both of our hands are simply fumbling in the dark, not knowing where to go. Every once in a while our hands will collide or our knees will bump, but we barely notice. He eventually moves slightly off me, presumably to allow me more air. His head lifts and for a split second I dread that he’s going to stop, but he simply moves down to my neck, allowing his hand to grasp at my waist and pull me upwards, urging our bodies to be even closer together than we already are.

I can’t help but moan and gasp as he sucks and nibbles at my neck. My finger find themselves buried deep in his soft, smooth hair as I arch my back. A minute later he comes back up, returning to my lips. I kiss him hard, rolling us over so I straddle him. He lets out a small laugh and brings me back down to him, resuming the kiss.

I reach down, running my fingers along the sliver of space between his pants and where his shirt has risen to. I push the shirt a little higher, allowing myself to trace the dips and curves of his stomach muscles. Every time I reach a new one it tenses individually. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me extremely satisfied.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re killing me.”

I smiled, “I know. You like it though.”

I could feel him growing hard underneath me and knew that we should stop soon. But ‘soon’ wasn’t ‘now’ right? I kept kissing him, wandering down his jawline and neck, even his collarbone. He placed his hands on my ass and tipped his head back further. As he groaned I could feel it, the vibration against my lips. I moved up a little more an lightly nipped his ear lobe, then whispered into it.

“I’m really glad you made me take a break.”

He smiled and laughed, “Me too.” Then he lifted me off of him and set my book back in my lap. “Now get back to work, you’ve got a test to pass tomorrow. You need some help?”

I frowned, frustrated that we couldn’t continue. He relaxed back into his previous position and looked at his phone again. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing my boyfriend actually did care about my success.  

I leaned down, pecking his cheek. “No I’m good. Thank you though.”


Prompt List - to be updated 

Song Prompts

Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. I didn’t really know how to end it, but I tried. To the requester, I’m not quite sure when you requested this, but it was probably a while ago, so sorry for taking so long, hope you like it though. I got so many messages and more attention than usual for my last Hayes imagine because apparently everyone loves him but no one writes about him, so her you go! I have another Hayes imagine to do still for those of you who enjoy them, then a few song requests, which should be exciting since I haven’t done those in a while. That’s all for now,


PS: as I was uploading this I realized I was supposed to be releasing the Send My Love imagine and not this one but I’ve already spent like 10 mins tagging and linking everything so I’ll put Send My Love pt. 2 out tonight or tomorrow, promise!

Chapter 9 - I’m Not Kissing You

Richard Speight jr x reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Tags: @im-gabriels-bitch

@destielschild @thefelinemedia78 @ohmychukk@bbgmichael @thebookisbtr @perksofbeingafangirl26 @feelmyroarrrr @izzyweisz @ladycerule @crowleysprincess159 @pumacat69 @angelspeight @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll@lucifersxvessel @cyaa-niide @queen-of-toro @janimoon @ourloveisforthelovely @bookchic20 @queenofhellwithcrowley @captain-winter-fros

The walk to the bar put you on edge with Richard. All of your friends, Richard’s and yours, were walking in front of you both chatting away, singing and jumping about in excitement. But there you were walking nervously next to the man you adored, not saying a single word to him, he ignoring you too. Once you had all made your way to the bar you all clambered inside one after the other. The bar was big with very few people inside and it had that typical bar smell, leather and spilt cider. They had the bar in the center of the room with two bartenders stood behind chatting away with each other and waiting for their next customer. Briana and Kim headed straight for the bar ordering their first drinks of the night, certainly not their last, whilst Osric, Jared and Jensen went over to the pool table they had hidden away in the dark corner.

The rest of the gang found three large tables and moved them all up together, sitting around on the chairs. Your friend patted the seat next to her, inviting you to join her and sit with the gang. You were happy to have somebody distract you from the man stood behind you, so you obliged. You began to become more comfortable, being added into the conversation a little more and laughing with the guys. Kim and Briana came to the table, placing their beers down and sitting together opposite you and your friend. You were distracted by the two loud women and you hadn’t yet noticed that Richard had sat uncomfortably close to you, Rob opposite him.

You turned your head to the right to see what was rubbing against your thigh and you realised who had joined you. Richard was sat on a stool next to you with his thigh leaning against yours and his hand on your knee. What really confused you was the way he was pretending it was normal for him to do. He wasn’t looking your way nor talking to you, yet there his hand and thigh were. He was acting as if he wasn’t touching you so personally as he continued to joke with Rob, looking at something he was showing him on his phone.

Your stomach dropped, suddenly taking away any appetite for a good night you had. You understood what guys were like and that they like to mock and joke a girl about feelings or love or lust. But what you hated most was the fact that Richard was now doing it in public. You started to wonder if he’d figured out your feelings toward him, and as your stomach became more empty, so did your glass. You must have had three beers already since you’d been there and that had only been about half an hour. Of course the guys had gone through almost the same, but they were a lot bigger than you and could handle their drink a LOT better.

You sat there quietly, nodding or smiling when somebody said something to you. That was until Rob held his phone up at you and pulled you out of your daze.

“Y/N! Hey, scoot in! come on!” Happy blue eyes were beaming at you from across the table, ushering you closer to the person you wanted to be furthest away from in the world. You politely declined his photo, telling him the lighting would make you look bad and other excuses. But that was before a strong arm pulled you into the side of Richard. Your body fell towards him, and he pressed the side of your heads together. Rob took the photograph and uploaded it to twitter before you could even shout at the pair of them.

“Guys! what the hell I had literally no time to react to that!” You complained, mostly focusing your anguish at Rob.

“Hey, he could have kissed you! You should be glad he didn’t.” Rob argued, shaking his head.

“Yet.” Richard added sternly.

“Yeah, no. Never going to happen.” At this point you were no longer joking. You were dead set on never letting the man come near you again, not like that. You wanted to look after your self esteem instead of giving in to that gorgeous sea of gold that were Richard’s eyes. You stood up, stumbling slightly from your alcohol consumption and walked off to the bar for another drink. You ordered your beer and watched as the bartender poured the drink for you. A gentle tap on the shoulder caused you to turn your head to the side. Rob was leaning against the bar smiling at you, in rather a sweet and innocent way.

“Hey…” You spoke quietly, not in the mood for any more joking around. Your heart was at stake here.

“Hi. I was just wondering why you won’t kiss Rich. I mean, why not? he’s a nice guy and he freakin’ adores you. My ears were almost bleeding this morning from him saying your name the whole time. So whats the deal?” Rob had ordered another beer for himself and took a seat on one of the bar stools, you following and taking the one next to him. You took a sip of your fourth beer, feeling the results almost instantly. The only problem to alcohol that you found, was how much it brought out the truth.

“To tell you the truth, Rob. I don’t like to be mocked.” You replied in confidence. Rob furrowed his brows, obviously confused by your response.

“What do you mean mocked?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“You know what I mean. Teasing me, grabbing me. Embarassing me in front of all of my friends by laying on top of me and pretending he likes me.” Admittedly your voice had cracked slightly in your rant. You didn’t sound half as confident as you’d have liked. Rob noticed that you had genuinly been upset about all of it.

“Y/N……Rich is……not teasing you. He’s not pretending he likes you. He really does. Trust me I’m his best friend. I knew he liked you before he admitted it…”

Rob took a moment to look back at your group of friends at the table, Rich was sat joking about with Kim. “…If you don’t like him in that way I think you should simply tell him. It’d stop him getting more hurt.” Rob was talking as if you had been leading his best friend off, which was insulting and 100% bullshit.

“Rob, I’m not leading him on. I-I don’t…Guys back home don’t like me. You know, I’m the bottom of the scrap pile of girls to choose from. And I’m certainly not Richard’s type. I’m not good enough for him, I’m not pretty enough for him. I mean he’s just…..he’s Richard! If I were to stare into his eyes for too long I would drown…. If I were to listen to him speak for a moment longer than I should, I’d explode……he’s the most beautiful, talented and funny guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want to give in and let him kiss me as much as I want to kiss him myself. I love him. I’m just trying to protect myself for once in my life. Can you understand that?”

Alcohol definitely was a horrific idea for tonight. Rob was sat there taking in everything you’d just said. You expected him to be angry at you, or to walk off. But he didn’t. He sat there and watched you for a little while. His eyes felt like they were scrutinizing everything you were doing. You turned to your side, facing the bar and polishing off your beer. You waved your hand to the waiter, asking for another.

The silence between you and Rob was terrifying you, building up your nerves to the top of your throat. Unless it was vomit from everything you’ve drank. You hoped it was the nerves. You heard the faintest of giggles from Rob and you had no idea what he found so funny.

“What?” You asked, a little annoyed by his cheery mood. Why couldn’t everybody be grumpy like you?

“Nothing….” Rob answered with a smirk. He then grabbed his glass of beer and left you alone at the bar. At least, you thought you were alone. You were completly unaware that there had been somebody else sat on your other side for a good few minutes. You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, but not as gentle as before. You turned slowly so’s not to give your growing headache any problems. Your eyes stared straight into the eyes of Richard. He has the softest of smiles traced on his lips as he stared at you. Your heart began to thud louder and louder to the point you could almost hear it. You sincerely hoped he couldn’t.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” He asked, his voice quiet and soft. At that moment your heart went ballistic. The sudden realization that Richard had heard everything you said about him washed over you like a high wave. You started to panic. You wanted to run straight out the bar, but you knew with the amount you had drank tonight that you wouldn’t be able to get far. And even if you did, Richard would be right there at home waiting for you. You began to stammer.

“I-uh…I need to…..I need to go to the bathroom” A lousy excuse, yes. But it was all you could muster right now.

“I don’t think so.” Richard responded, grabbing your right arm with his hand. He held you there gently, not hurting your arm or forcing you to stay there. But it was warning that if you tried to leave he would pull you back down.

“You’re always running, you never stop.” You looked down at your feet. You were to nervous to look him in the eyes. You’d just outright told him that you love him and boy were you gonna pay.

You felt gentle fingers touch your chin, pushing your face up a little, pointing your gaze back to his.

“It’s time to stop running.” The words echoed from his lips as if they were being said in a dream, or a fantasy of yours. Only this time it was real. He was really holding your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb. He leaned forward, giving you one last gaze, before he closed his eyes and placed his lips against your own.

Everything stopped.

There was no music, no voices shouted in the background.

You could no longer feel the seat you were sat on.

No smell of beer in the air.

Only him.

He was intoxicating. The smell of leather, aftershave and…him.

All you could hear was his shallow breath, struggling to get enough air in his lungs. And then there was the feel of his lips. He wasn’t aggressive. He wasn’t rough.

The feel of his soft lips brushing over yours as he continued to kiss you both tenderly and gingerly at the same time. One of his hands had moved down into your lap and he interlaced his fingers with yours. You could literally feel yourself falling in love with him, then and there. You had finally let go.

His lips began to come away from yours as he finished the kiss. It was almost like the world had been paused, just for you to have that tiny moment. The music continued to boom around the bar and hustle and bustle of your friends and other people was no longer gone.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, staring back at Richard in silence. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to say. But Richard did.

“Let’s go home…” The way he had said it made you feel like you really belonged with him, so you followed him, and you went home.  

Post-Blackout Thoughts: Why Revenge Isn’t Sweet

Hello everyone! I know it’s already July 16, a day after the end of the Miraculous Blackout. First, I just wanted to say, thank you everyone for your patience and your support in this movement (unless you sent a bunch of hateful messages to some accounts and mine, then I don’t know what to say to that).

I was glad to hear that some of you learned a lot from our blackout, including differences with reblogs and reposts, the art theft struggle, and other aspects of the issue. From the very beginning, my sole purpose for this blackout was never to punish the others for wrongdoing or to change society. It was a form of education and raising awareness. And I’m glad it has achieved its purpose, at least to a degree.

But today in church, I was reminded of an emotion that many of us have experienced even before this blackout had even began, whether creator or otherwise: Anger.

Now don’t get me wrong. Content creators are allowed to be angry over their stuff getting stolen. I mean, it’s upsetting. It causes grief, it causes problems for people. And on the flip side, people are allowed to feel wronged if their stuff was taken down. However, I was reminded-just today in fact-that despite such emotions, we need to learn to check ourselves.

Something I observed during the blackout was that a lot of us had the tendency to go up and arms over belligerent reposters or vice versa. I can think of at least one or two cases where I personally said “let me fight them” when I found out that a fellow artist was being harassed over a copyright takedown. And to a majority of you, yes we had every right to think such thoughts. But as a follower of Jesus Christ, I felt off about it afterward. Then, in church today, I was reminded why.

In Romans 12:19, it says: Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.”

In 1 Corinthians 4:5, it says: “Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.”

If you simply Googled “What the Bible says about revenge”, you will find plenty of verses and passages all pointing to generally the same idea: “Do not take revenge”. “Let go of your anger, and let God deal with it”. “Turn the other cheek.

Don’t get me wrong. There is a difference between acting/thinking in vengeance and acting within legal rights. Creators have every right to have their content taken down because there are rules and regulations set to protect their content. It is when we start falling under the malicious “eye for an eye” mentality that things start to get very messy. I have seen too many unnecessary fights happen because no one backs down or compromises, and one or both get angry. It becomes much more difficult.

But this is something I had to face when I recently took down videos on Youtube containing copyright material that belonged to me. A funny thing about Youtube is that after three strikes, an account is set for termination in seven days since the third strike. For awhile, I ignored these terms, but then I began to think about how it affected the account owner. I saw how angry and desperate these Youtube account owners could get, from incessant emails to hacking threats. It was heartbreaking to say the least. 

I admit, when it comes to these things, the content creators do have the upper-hand regarding negotiations over the use of their work. But it is not undeserved. They made the content, they trained for it, they practiced, they spent money to learn the skills (sometimes they even cried and bled and sweat for it). Simply taking their content without so much as getting permission wrongly invalidates everything they’d done to come to that point in skill, in order for some other person to simply make a quick buck and/or gain a number of followers. So you can see why many creators have not even tried to sympathize with the perpetrators. Like I had said in a previous post, consuming all of this content is considered a privilege. Not a right.

Nonetheless, I personally think that we don’t need to cause any more unnecessary harm to each other. Like the title says, revenge isn’t sweet. Sure, you may beg to differ, especially if you uphold different beliefs than I do, but I still think it saves both sides a lot of trouble when one learns to back down, swallow their pride and be the bigger person

But here is my afterthought to that last one: If we step back, away from that pride stuff and take a look at both sides in this, who is technically in the legal right to control such distribution of works? You, the content creator who put out all that labour into your work? Or, you, the one who saw their work, thought it was cute/worth dubbing/worth earning from and decided to separately upload and/or sell it without even asking for the creator’s permission?

Think about that first before using my words for your argument. Because there is a right answer there.

P.S. This is exactly the reason why I try to always ask that you guys NEVER harass the reposter whenever I post their Instagram/Youtube online in order to notify other creators whose rights were infringed (which I haven’t done in awhile actually). 

The Horrors Of Spring | Chapter Seven

Summary: Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn. The four courts that serve as the pillars of the fae realm, united in peace, and yet their words could not be further apart. Natsu Dragneel, Prince of Summer, feels as though the weight of royalty will be his undoing. But when the Courts begin to gather, he soon discovers there are those far more trapped than he.

Rating: M                            Words: 3188

Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six

A/N: Two updates in one month??? Who am I??? This is a Dramatic Chapter so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!! I’ve also uploaded this fic on Ao3 and ff.net so feel free to follow it there too!

Secrets In The Roots

    “What doesn’t kill you is the reason behind the sleepless nights, the shaking                   hands and that terrible void inside of you.” - Nikita Gill

The sound of rain hitting the leaves and stone of the palace courtyard calmed Lucy’s fraying nerves. It was a perfect spring rain, not too heavy but not a drizzle either; the water barely warm unless a breeze stirred up to work a chill down the spine. She was soaked through but she didn’t care. This late at night she was alone in the courtyard. There was no one around to see her turn her face up towards the night, the raindrops masking her tears.

She’d had another nightmare. Most of it was indistinct, already fading from her memory. But the terror of it had overwhelmed her enough to wake her up. She’d been damp with sweat, and delirious enough to mistake the howling of the wind for her mother’s screams. Needing to calm herself, she’d slung on one of her thin robes over her night dress and left her chambers behind for the pouring rain of the courtyard.

It had been a few days since her last meeting with Natsu. The heat of his flames was merely a phantom in her memory now, replaced by the cold of loneliness and isolation. It wasn’t that she had no friends in the court- far from it actually. She had Loke, who was almost always with her whenever she went. And the courts young head librarian, Levy, who was always kind to her. But everyone in the court, as kind as some of them were, always spoke to her with respect. It was to be expected, given her title, but it distanced her from people. Her royal heritage often felt like a barrier between true friendship with her people. That, and their fear of Jude did not make them too quick to trust her.

It was only with Natsu that she felt like the barrier had never been there.

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Watching the new video uploaded by the Twins had me feeling a roller coaster of emotions.

Relieved to finally see them after their break on social media, apprehension on seeing how weary and drained they looked and uncertain about what I would hear once the video began.

As the last few seconds of the video played out, I was sat there, teary eyed.

I have always admired the twins for what they brought to the table, their honesty and acute awareness of societal issues. Hearing them share this part of their life, being brave enough to accept that they were not okay and that it was fine to feel this way, their selflessness to still put us first despite feeling down for what we now know, has been months…I can’t help but be in awe of these two 17 year olds.

It takes a special kind of courage to open up about your demons, to talk of them and how they have haunted you in front of millions. My heart swells with pride for these boys and how real they have been with us and for being true to themselves, even in such dark circumstances.

Yes, it hurt terribly to see them so emotionally exhausted. It stung even more to know that they had been hiding this immensely suffocating feeling for months, putting our happiness before their own and I am glad they’re putting themselves first. It broke me to see how badly it affected Ethan that somehow, be it intentional or not, he did hurt himself. Grayson too, couldn’t keep up and came out of the situation, injured and scathed. 

I wish I could take away their pain and do more than just write about how proud and supportive I am, but it is all I can do besides continuing to support them, shower them with love and pray for them to find genuine happiness once more, even if it means them disappearing for good. 

No one should ever sacrifice the good of their health at the cost of spreading good vibes and positivity. 

My respect for the boys has increased a thousand fold. They are incredibly strong for being so vulnerable and honest with us and I couldn’t love them anymore than I already do. Their raw confession has left me shaken but relieved at the same time.

I hope things go in a better direction for them here on out. They have an army of people who love them, every single one ready to catch and bolster them with strength if they so much as trip or stumble and I hope they never feel that they aren’t doing enough or that they aren’t good enough for us.

Ethan and Grayson, you have my love, admiration, respect and support in everything you do and every decision you make.

You are not alone. Never.