i blame the fact that i listened to them all day yesterday

Finding you

Originally posted by taesscripts

Words: 5992

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

It has pretty much everything but there is a point where there will be smut so if you don’t fancy something like that you can just skip the part.

Description: Your cousin gave you a gift. It’s a pen, a pen that whatever you write upon your skin with it will also appear on your soulmate’s. Silly stuff, how can what you write with a stupid pen appear on your soulmate’s skin?

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3, 30, 300 [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

Summary: A new phase of your life begins as you move to an apartment in New York with an unknown roommate.

Word Count: 2,568

Warnings: None, maybe one ot two curse words?

Author’s notes: Wow, I’ve been with so many things in the works between college, collabs and personal matters that I didn’t even see time fly. This is the first thing I’ve written by myself in probably months, so I apologize in advance if I’m a little rusty. This is pure fluff and an adaptation of a story I wrote for my crative writing class, so… I hope you guys like it!

askbox | masterlist 


“Sorry, I didn’t-” your hands touched and the blush on your face became even more evident.

“No, it’s okay. Take it.” Lin’s smile was genuine, and you took the knife without saying a word. The both of you ate in silence, the cutlery against the ceramic plates being the only sound in the small kitchen and neither knowing how the dynamic between you worked.

Well, it was the first time you were sharing an apartment with a stranger, afterall.

You blamed the big city, the fear of conquering the concrete jungle without anyone to go to if needed. Online adverts about sharing an apartment in New York City brought you and Lin-Manuel together, both not knowing what each other looked like until only a few hours earlier, your moving trucks competing for a parking spot in front of the old building.

The two bedrooms were smaller than they looked like in the advert, which was already pretty small. When seeing the amount of boxes you unloaded, Lin gave up the bigger bedroom in exchange for you letting him place his piano in the cramped living room: you were unsure of how many nights you wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the instrument, but your initial bet was ‘many’.

You were right.

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colouring book | jimin (finale)

Originally posted by bangtaninspired

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, angst and smut (in part three) 

word count: 2.1k

warning: contains swearing

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE


You ran around your bedroom pulling open drawers and wardrobe doors before throwing them into a massive pile on the bed. Running your hands through your hair, you took a step back for a second, looking out at the tattoo shop across the street that was illuminated by light. It had been ten minutes and he still hadn’t run out to apologise – but neither had you. You were too stubborn and he was angry for a reason you didn’t fully understand. The sound of heels hitting the pavement caused you to snap out of your daydream, your face pulling in disgust as you saw her, her floor length gown and far too expensive highs heels hitting the ground before she disappeared into the tattoo shop.

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Dare | Jimin, You

For my wonderful friend Cassie aka @comeherejimin​ I hope you like it! And everyone reading this, you should definitely check her out! Her graphics are amazing and she is just such a sweet person. 

Originally posted by sosjimin

Is this even real?

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Forgiveness (Justin Foley x Reader)

Request; Hi how are you? Can I have a 13 reasons why imagine where you’re on the tapes because you gave Hannah hell after Justin cheated on you with her (which you found out through the text that sent around at the beginning of the show) and Justin trying to apologize to you when he realizes that the tapes were passed down to you

A/N; I’m gonna make a post after this about the next batch of imagines coming out.I made this kind of deep I felt like I was writing a chapter for my wattpad book ( sad ending kind of ) Also you didn’t really tell me how to end it so yea 

There are time shifts

Word counter; 1,706(lmaoo long af)

 Warnings;  I guess Maybe talk about death, suicide(Hannah’s ) panic attacks blah blah blah

 Alterations; Justin only has one tape reader it’s tape number 9 


Originally posted by riverdalebish


Present (Wednesday Morning )

We often make mistakes, we are human it is within our nature as we are raised we are taught that making mistakes isn’t as horrible.That those mistakes make us stronger and that we shall learn from them. What they forget to teach us is that a little mistake goes a long way and all actions have consequences.I made her life a living hell and for that, I will always be sorry but who would have thought that a little game would make a girl want to kill herself.Here I am laying in bed before getting ready for school thinking about all the things I could’ve done to save Hannah’s life. I killed Hannah baker I did it along with the others, Hannah didn’t commit suicide, we killed her, we killed her spirit and her will to live and we will carry that with us until the day we die.

Past


It was Monday afternoon I was exhausted making my way home from school, this week has been crazy with Hannah Baker’s suicide and people wanting to create a memorial. I never really got along with Hannah after I found out Justin cheated on me with her. I make my way up the steps to reach my porch I spot a package with my name on it. I pick it up entering my house greeting my mom with a kiss and quickly making my way up the stairs.I reach my room throwing my bag on top of the bed and going over to my desk eager to open the package. I finally get the package open looking at the show box sitting in front of me. I slowly open it curious to see what’s inside but also scared of what it might contain. It didn’t look like a company package and I hadn’t ordered anything online.I open the package to find a set of tapes. Fifteen of them to be exact I look at the box with a puzzled look but decide to listen to it I pop the first tape in the radio and press play.

“Hey, it’s Hannah. Hannah Baker. That’s right. Don’t adjust your…whatever device you’re hearing this on. It’s me, live and in stereo. No return engagements, no encore, and this time, absolutely no requests. Get a snack. Settle in. Because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you’re listening to this tape you’re one of the reasons why. I’m not saying which tape brings you into the story. But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up. I promise.”


My blood ran cold as I heard the intro to the first tape something told me I won’t get any sleep today.The first tape was dedicated to Justin, then Jessica, then Alex, then Tyler, and Courtney, and Marcus then Zach,  even Ryan was in it. 

This brings me to my tape number 9 my blood ran cold again as I heard the intro.“I can’t really blame you for what you did or the way you reacted, after all, I did kiss your boyfriend but at the time you didn’t let me explain, see the thing is that Justin never mentioned a girlfriend and since I wasn’t really popular I didn’t keep up with who was dating who. I thought Justin was single I should’ve known better I guess.On the contrary of what you think I didn’t sleep with Justin like everyone thought. That day when you walked in the cafeteria , I was already having a bad day , with the rumor of me sleeping with Justin going around school ,that picture and the fact that even Clay didn’t want to talk to me you turned out to be the cherry on top when you walked into the cafeteria and slapped me calling me a slut in front of everyone. I tried keeping my tears in as I rushed to the bathroom and that was the start of how you made my life a living hell (Y/N) welcome to your tape”

My body shook as I finished listening to my tape. My breathing became shallow and tears began to fall it was happening again.My chest began to tighten, I felt my throat close up making it harder to breathe my muscles began to twitch. I was having a panic attack after 6 months of them being gone they came back. I spend the next half hour trying to calm myself. Usually, it was Justin who helped me whispering sweet things to my ear trying to get me to calm my breathing the thing is that he’s no longer here and even though I miss him I don’t think I could ever take him back. He hurt me too much, he lied not only to me but to other people about Hannah.

Present 

I decided to stay home yesterday trying to keep myself together and prepare for school today.Justin has been texting and calling me non-stop since he found out I got the tapes, asking if I was okay if I needed anything asking if we could talk. I’ve been ignoring him after listening to the tapes I needed some time for myself to think and sort things out. Guilt was a constant emotion I felt these past days.That feeling when your heart sinks to your stomach the constant feeling of anxiety or like you’re being watched the sadness that comes with it and the certain feeling of darkness that it’s creeping its way to your heart.

After getting ready for school I walk to my car get in and start the engine in less than 10 minutes I’m parked in the parking lot of Liberty High finding the courage to actually step into the school.I get out the car and make my way to the high school entrance I walk through the halls with my head down trying to go unnoticed.I reach Hannah’s locker and stand in front of it looking at it, they decorated it pictures, flowers everyone acted as if they knew Hannah or cared if they cared she would be alive today. I spot Justin at the corner of my eye and my breathing begins to pick up its pace, looking one more time at Hannah’s locker I feel the tears begin to fall as I push my way through the crowd of people making my way to the bathroom.

My breathing starts becoming shallow and I feel it coming I push into one of the stalls trying to take deep breaths my throat begins closing in, I choke on my breathing as it gets harder for the air to get into my lungs.I feel someone open the door to the bathroom but I ignore it trying to focus on my breathing.The door to the stall opens but I keep my eyes focused on the floor trying my hardest to make air reach my lungs, someone picks me up and sits me on their lap hugging me tightly given the scent I know it’s Justin at any other moment I would’ve protested shoved him away from me but I wasn’t in the right mind and as much as I hate to admitted in moments like this he knew how to calm me down.I sat on his arms as he whispered sweet things to my ear and played with my hair.

My breathing began to slow down reaching its normal pace.I slowly move away from Justin’s arms whispering a hushed thank you as I try to stand up.

“ hey, wait I want to talk to you” he says pulling me down so I’m sitting on his lap again

“ why Justin there’s nothing to talk about thanks for the help but that’s it this is where it ends”  I say my heart shattering with each word.

“ I just want you to forgive me, I’m truly sorry for everything and I love you and I always will and I regret everything from the start I want you back (Y/N) I can’t sleep at night thinking about how bad I fucked up and I miss you I miss you so much, I just wish I could go back and change everything” he says tears streaming down his face 

“ I just don’t understand why you lied to me, you said that Hannah was the one that approached you, I hated her for the longest time for no reason, I drove her to kill herself, you drove her to kill herself, don’t ask me for forgiveness ask her, you killed her , I killed her we all did and everything for what  huh?” I say trying to keep tears from falling

 “ I don’t know what I was thinking, we all make mistakes please forgive me, I just want to be back with you, I know what I did was wrong and I regret it every day I just wanted to be cool and Bryce pushed me to send the picture around so I did but I never meant any harm and I just I love you please forgive me” he says getting closer to me.At this point, I can’t keep my tears in they flow out like a river 

“Justin I’m not going to lie to you, I do I miss you, I miss you so much, my panic attacks started again and you’re the only one that helps me control them and I love you too I love you so much but right now I can’t get together with you we both need healing to do I forgive you I do but I just can’t be with you right now I need time” I say between sobs 

“ can we at least be friends I need you in my life, I promise I’ll give you time , I’ll make you fall in love with me again slowly we can try please promise we’ll try” He says standing up. I hug him tightly 

“ Yes we can be friends and later on when we are fixed we can try,” I say smiling a little

“I have your forgiveness now I only need to win your heart back,” He says smiling 

Sound of Music AU - Roll Call

This delightful tidbit is where Nurse Claire (Maria) meets Captain Fraser’s (Captain von Trapp’s) seven children for the first time. ;)

Enjoy!

One - two - three - four - five - six. There should be seven.


Sure enough, there was an obvious space between children numbers four and five. Loud footfalls were heard as a young girl flew thru the door and skidded into position.


Captain Fraser stepped forward with an outstretched hand and eyebrow raised in silent rebuke. The girl handed him a book, her finger still holding it slightly ajar to mark her page. She made a small noise of dismay as he clapped it shut and handed it to me.


Collected Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the spine read. A mystery lover reading far above her age group.


Having collected his contraband, he inspected his troops. Each child had something at fault to be fixed and he corrected them without so much as a word. His eldest’s son’s posture wasn’t all it could be, the youngest daughter’s bow was coming loose from her auburn curls.


He resumed his place at my side and cleared his throat, “Now, children, this is your new nanny, Mistress Beauchamp. Ye may address her as Nurse Claire or Mistress Claire.”


Seven sets of eyes fixed on me with renewed interest, their gazes ranging from mild curiosity to downright disapproval. I swallowed hard and tried to smile at them.


Buck up, Beauchamp, the fiends can smell fear.


“Listen carefully, Nurse, so that ye ken how to call them when ye want them.” He glanced at me to admonish this before turning back to his children. “Ye will step forward and give yer name when ye hear yer signal.”


He pulled a metal whistle from his pocket and began an indistinguishable series of dots and dashes, the tone and pitch each command deafening in the confines of the room. I placed one hand to my ear as I tried to hear the names being shouted at me as the children bopped in and out of their line.


“Ellen!” “William!” “Janet!” “Brian!” “Marsali!” “Joan!”


All went according to the Captain’s instructions until we got to the littlest of the Frasers. Freckled cheeks flushed, the sweetheart stomped forward, just like her siblings, but returned to her place without a word.


I caught her father’s expression out the corner of my eye as I tried to hide my smile. His slight amusement was tempered with undeniable pride as he prompted her again.


Her little chin lifted in determination as she repeated her actions, still without introducing herself.


It was the Captain’s turn to hide a grin, something he did with great skill. “Margaret,” he provided.


Little Margaret pulled a face and it was all I could do not to laugh. Gracious, she was adorable.


He handed me something, saying, “Let’s see how well ye listened.”


The hell was I going to whistle for a child like a dog.


“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, sir. I’ll learn their names,” I tried to brush him off. “You’ve given them such beautiful names, it would be a shame not to use them.”


He sighed, obviously losing his patience with me. “Nurse, Lallybroch is a large estate and I willna have ye shouting after them like a fishmonger. Take it, the children will help ye.”


I accepted the metal tool of belittlement from him. Of course they would help me, they’d help me right out of a job. I wasn’t born yesterday.


“When I want ye, ye’ll hear this,” he continued and began another pattern of notes.


“Stop!” I cut him off. He and the children stared at me, eyes wide with surprise. “I will not answer to a whistle, sir. Whistles are for dogs and other beasts, not for children and certainly not for me.”


He gave me a cold look before turning to leave, apparently finished with my instructions.


I blew a short blast on my whistle. He may be done with me, but I wasn’t done with him. The man froze, visibly bristling, then turned to face me.


“You didn’t tell me your signal.” I said simply.


He rose up to his full height and glared at me, “Ye can call me Captain.”


With that, he was gone. I stared out the door he had just disappeared thru and heard a chorus of giggles behind me.


Maybe they were children after all.


I turned back to them and they all snapped back to attention. “At ease, soldiers.” I commanded, rolling my eyes heavenward when they immediately responded.


“Now that we’re alone, could you tell me your names again? And how old you are?”


The eldest Fraser stepped forward. Her dark chestnut hair was plaited over one shoulder, her eyes flashing blue fire as she spoke. “I’m Ellen. I’m sixteen years old and I don’t need a nanny.”


I smiled, “We’ll just be good friends then, shall we?”


With a look of skepticism, Ellen stepped back and her brother, a tall and redheaded chap, stepped forward.


“I’m William. I’m fourteen and I’m impossible.”


“Are you?” I laughed, “Who told you that?”


“Mistress Josephine, four nannies ago,” he answered, clearly proud of himself.


The next child, a young teen with freckles and strawberry blonde curls, moved forward, announced “I’m Marsali,” and stepped back into formation.


This one was going to be trouble.


“You didn’t tell me how old you were, Janet,” I grinned, letting her know she didn’t fool me for a second.


“I’m Marsali,” The bookworm stepped forward and shot a look of superiority towards her elder sister. “She’s Janet. She’s thirteen years old, and you’re smart. I’m ten, and I think your outfit is the ugliest I ever saw.”


I looked down at my clothes as the real Marsali stepped back in line. I knew I wasn’t wearing the latest fashion, but what was wrong with jeans and a button up blouse?


“Marsali, you shouldn’t say that.” A chubby cheeked boy between Janet and Marsali scolded.


“Why not? Don’t you think it’s ugly?” She retorted.


“Of course, but it’s not nearly as bad as Nanny Louise’s.” He explained in a matter of fact way, then stepped forward to introduce himself. “I’m Brian. I’m eleven. I’m incorrigible.”


Grinning, I responded, “Congratulations.”


“What’s incorrigible?” He asked, smiling back.


“I think it means you want to be treated like a boy, not a man.”


Satisfied with my answer, he stepped back in line and the next child stepped forward. She looked up at me shyly, motioning me to come closer. I did so and she took my hand.


“I’m Joan, and I’m going to be seven on Tuesday,” her voice was so sweet and innocent, “and I’d like a pink parasol.”


I winked at her, earning me an even sweeter smile. “Pink is my favorite too.”


Little Margaret stomped her foot beside me and I knelt in front of her. “Yes, sweetheart, and you’re Margaret?”


Beaming at me, now that we were on the same level, she held up all five fingers on her left hand. A leftie perhaps?


“You’re five years old?” I feigned astonishment, much to her delight. “Why, you’re almost all grown up!”


Margaret and Joan shared a giggle, completely disregarding their former rigid formality.


A look down the line told me the rest had as well. They now studied me in wary curiosity. Who could blame them? Twelve nannies in, what, five years? That’s a new nanny every five months, on average. And hadn’t Captain Fraser mentioned that the last one only stayed two days?


“Can I tell you a secret?” I asked in a loud whisper, now that I had their full attention. “I’ve never been a nanny before.”


Janet got a mischievous gleam in her eye and I suddenly regretted voicing that thought. “You mean you don’t know anything about what you’re supposed to do?”


I shrugged, deciding to run with it since the cat was already out of the proverbial bag. “Not a thing. I could bandage a wound with my eyes closed but I haven’t the foggiest idea what to do with children.”


Brian snickered as Janet closed in on me. “Well,” she began slowly, “the best way to start is to tell Father to mind his own business.”


I tipped my head back and laughed outright. I had to admit, the idea was tempting.


William eagerly hopped on Janet’s advice bandwagon as the rest of them crowded around me, “And never come to dinner on time!”


Marsali giggled, adding, “Never eat your soup quietly!”


Brian slurped loudly in my ear before practically shouting “Always blow your nose during desert!”


“Don’t listen to them, Nurse Claire!” A new voice sounded from behind me and I turned to see Margaret glaring at her siblings with all the wrath a five year old could muster, which was a considerable amount.


“Oh?” I chuckled. “Why is that?”


Throwing her arms about me, she proclaimed, “Because I like you!”


My heart felt like it was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. These children were so precious and they desperately needed the love I could give them. I hugged precious little Margaret as a boisterous voice announced the housekeeper’s arrival.


“Alright, children, ye best be off on yer walk. ‘Tis half past two an’ ye ken how yer father gets when ye are behind yer time,” the plump woman ensconced in an apron commanded as she began to shoo the children out of the room. “Dinna dawdle. Quick, quick, quick.”


They reluctantly obeyed, leaving by a door I hadn’t noticed before. The younger girls peeked over their shoulder to catch a last glimpse of me before going out and my heart skipped a beat.


“Nurse Claire, I’m Lallybroch’s housekeeper. Ye can call me Mrs Fitz, as everyone else does,” she extended a callused hand and I shook it.


“Pleased to meet you, and do call me Claire,” I requested. “‘Nurse’ is far too formal.”


Mrs Fitz shook her head, giving me a compassionate look. “If it isna formal, it isna acceptable a’ Lallybroch. Come, I’ll show ye to yer room.”


She led the way thru the door the children had exited from and I caught a quick glimpse of them as we started up the stairs. “Poor things,” I commented quite to myself.


I thought I heard Mrs Fitz make some sort of Scottish noise of amusement, but was distracted by a sudden movement in my pocket. I dropped my bags in surprise as whatever it was made a desperate attempt to flee. My hand closed around something slimy as I removed the wriggling creature and I let go of it on reflex.


A rather perturbed looking frog hopped away from my feet as Mrs Fitz spoke, “Ye got off lucky, 'twas a snake wi’ Nanny Louise.“

I Do

Dean Winchester x Reader

1550 Words

Story Summary:  It’s your wedding day. Everything was perfect, except for one thing. The groom wasn’t Dean Winchester.

“Honey. You look beautiful.” Your Mom told you, while you sat in front of the oval mirror, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. The hair stylist had already left, after fixing your hair up in gentle curls, some gathered on top of your head while others floated softly around, framing your face beautifully.

“Mom, I don’t even have my dress on yet.” You exclaimed, still sitting in your silk robe. You were in a small room off to the side of the church, a room that was filled with you, your Mom, and your maid of honor.

You were getting married, your white satin dress hanging up beside you, but you felt a lump in your stomach instead of the joy you should be feeling. The reception hall was perfectly decorated, you had checked that earlier this morning. Your flowers were perfect, you had something borrowed, something blue. Everything was going as it should. Everything that is, except for who you were marrying.

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Group Project... (Parker x Reader)

(A/N) HII! So, I’ve been working on all the requests so far and I’m so excited for what I have in store for you guys, in the mean time, I hope you all can enjoy something I’ve been working on for a while. While there was no official request, it was something I had a lot of fun writing, enjoy!

“I have no clue what this is supposed to be.” I said, my eyes widening as I glanced at my friends laptop screen.


“Oh, come on… it’s obviously something to do with chemical compositions of water…” (Y/F/N) said. My face read disbelief.


“You’re delusional…. how are you in AP CHEM?” I asked sarcastically. She laughed a little before closing the picture, returning to the random game of solitaire she was playing instead of working on our group project.


“Nick, you got anything on aragonite saturation? We should include that in our presentation if we decide to go in depth about the acidification effects on water.” Nick looked at me as I spoke.


“Yeah, I got some reports about the reliability of the testing, but it’s outdated and scientists have switched to more modern method of study,” Nick replied, pulling up the various articles he found to show me.


“Interesting, can you find more information about the new tests?” I asked.


“Yeah, I’m on it.”


“Peter…” I called across the lab table, he looked up startled. “How’s your progress on the physical properties of water?”


“Uh… go—good.” He stuttered avoiding my eye.


“Do you think you have enough to pull the presentation together?” I asked hopefully.


“Oh… yeah—definitely…” he trailed off, glancing up once to meet my eye before blushing intensely looking back to the laptop screen.


“Good good…,” I trailed off returning to my own research.


It was obvious Peter was uncomfortable with the group he was placed in for our chemistry project, he clearly wasn’t friends with any of us, and he preferred to do his work alone as opposed to in the group, like I had been pushing for all of us to do. Peter insisted he could handle completing the work that was meant for two people on his own, leaving the three of us, me, Nick and (Y/F/N) to tackle the chemical properties of water, and its affect on the ecosystem.


“Ok, presentations are Monday, that gives us one more class day to work on it. We still need to start on the slideshow and practicing if we want a good grade,” I said with three minutes left in class.


“We’ll work on the slides tomorrow. Don’t worry, we got this,” (Y/F/N) said, still playing the solitaire game from earlier.


“Yeah, well that doesn’t make up for the fact that we’ll probably need to work on this over the weekend. We still need to incorporate all the information we’ve found into one, smooth presentation.” I glanced over at Peter who hasn’t looked up from his computer and who hasn’t said a word, apart from when I forced him to update me on his progress.


“Peter, what do you think?” I asked, curious about someone else’s opinion.


He looked up, his eyes shifting from me to (Y/F/N). He opened his mouth to respond when the deafening bell sounded instead. Nick and (Y/F/N) sprinted out of the room, having packed up a few minutes earlier, leaving Peter and yourself to pack up together.


“If you need any help at all with your part, I’m always open,” I offered Peter. He glanced up at me, mumbling a quiet thanks before looking back at his backpack.


“Honestly, I’m not just trying to be nice. Anyways, the whole project is about tying the chemical and physical properties together, so it might help if we collaborate or something…” I said, following Peter out of the empty lab room and down the hall to his locker.


“Ok, thanks… for the offer,” he said, opening his locker quickly and grabbing his sweatshirt before slamming it shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”


“See you…,” I trailed off, my voice quieting in the busy halls of the emptying school as I was left alone in a sea of people.



“So what’s our status on this project?” I asked no one in particular, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead in attempt to alleviate the headache I have.


“We have the background and intro slide done,” Nick said, making a face as if we spent the entire class period working as efficiently as possible.


“Ugh….” I groaned, my head falling into the table as a sign of defeat. “So we definitely have to do this over the weekend…”


“Yeah… sorry (Y/N), not gonna happen. I have soccer practice all day tomorrow, and then playoffs Sunday. I’m booked solid,” (Y/F/N) said, her eyes growing tired at the mere thought of all the energy she’ll soon exhaust.


“Nick?” I asked hopefully.


“Sorry… the football tournament, we have like— three games.”


“Peter, please tell me you’ve got my back,” I begged my head on the table and giving my best pout to him.


“Yeah, yeah, I—I have no plans,” he said, his gaze quickly diverting back to the slideshow we had been working on.

“Great, meet me at the library tomorrow, noon?” I asked, hoping he’d look at me for confirmation.

“Noon sounds fine.” The bell rang, and the room cleared. Like usual, I was left the last in the room with only the teacher. I waved goodbye to him as I left.

I began my walk home, but the brisk wind cut against my cheeks, burning them raw from the cold of late October. Walking home in terrible weather was a usual for me, unless I took the subway which I hated with a passion.

I was one or two blocks from the apartment when, through my loud music I heard screams from up ahead. I stopped suddenly. They were abnormal, loud. It was a shrieking that seemed to rattle my bones. I was almost scared to continue walking—did I really want to know what was up ahead?

I took out a single earbud, listening again but only hearing the wind against my ears. Then, it happened again. A loud shriek, I swear someone must have been getting murdered. This time, it was followed by a noise that sounded like the air getting cut.

It seemed to be coming from behind me, and I turned just in time to see a red blob swinging down the middle of the street in record time. He must’ve gotten two or three blocks down before he swung to a right side street. Spiderman. I should’ve known. But, he was a legend; literally. Stories told in the streets. Rarely seen, but greatly appreciated. I was amazed I had even seen him at all.

I smiled an awestruck smile, and continued to walk to my apartment, taking extra caution, but keeping my eyes open for the man in a red suit.


“You should’ve seen him! It’s amazing! He’s amazing! I cant believe I saw him with my own eyes!” I exclaimed, recounting yesterday’s events to Peter. He sat across from me at the table in the library, and he seemed half-interested in what i was saying, half-focused on our science project.

“Imagine being that athletic, that—that fit. Having, powers—or whatever. He must feel like he could do anything,” I trailed off, my mind wandering to the hero I’d seen yesterday. “Don’t you think?”

“Sorry, who are we talking about again?” Peter asked jokingly, looking up from his computer with a small smile.

“Spiderman! Who else?” I played along, smiling back. My eyes trailed to my left, my thoughts traveling away as I began focusing on a bookshelf across from us. “But, I guess it isn’t always sunshine and flowers,” I said, I looked back at him, leaning slightly farther towards him.

“Huh?“Peter asked, maintaining eye contact with me.

“I mean, with any power, control, abilities—whatever,” I struggled to find the right wording. “There’s always gonna be responsibility…”

“I guess you’re right,” Peter said. He looked around the open room.

“Sure, he might be fighting crime and being a hero, but whenever something goes wrong—whenever a criminal gets away—who’s going to be the first person to get blamed?” Peter was glaring at me intensely now, giving me his full attention.

“And then there’s the guilt, the guilt of not being able to save everyone. I mean, he’s just a guy right? He’s gotta have a life. What happens when one day, he’s not there to save the city?” Peter looked away, his eyes lost with his own thought. “Sorry, we should probably get back to work.”

“You make a good point,” Peter said after sitting in silence for minutes. “There has to be negatives to protecting the city. But he’s obviously willing to accept them, the consequences of the ‘job’, for the better good. He’s willing to accept that responsibility, so long as someone gets saved along the way.”

“I suppose,” I started, “he’s truly one of the good ones then. Willing to risk his life, his sanity, for a bunch of strangers in New York City.”

“What a guy,” Peter said, cracking a smile at me when I looked up at him.

“What a guy,” I repeated, laughing slightly. I looked back down at the computer screen and continued on the group work that had to be done Monday morning. It was a lot of work, but I had no doubt in my mind Peter and I could get it done.


After a long four hours, Peter and I had managed to completely finish the twenty slide PowerPoint, and write Flashcards for each one of us to read from when it was our time to present our findings. It was starting to get dark out, but I wasn’t going to admit I was nervous to walk alone. Fortunately, Peter offered to walk me back to the apartments. I’m pretty sure he lived nearby anyway.

“Thanks, for offering.”

“No problem,” Peter said.

I think that in a matter of a few hours, Peter and I had actually become friends. He wasn’t awkwardly stuttering around me, and he actually made eye contact and conversation. I hope this ‘friendship’ goes beyond this weekend, because honestly he’s pretty kind.

“You’re pretty cool, you know?” Peter said after walking in silence for a bit. “You’re not like the other girls you hang out with.”

“I’ll take that as a complement?” I questioned.

“Oh! Yeah! I didn’t mean anything by that just—,” he put his hands out in defense. “You’re nice, not hanging off every boy just to get laid.” He took a breath, a bit of hesitation. “You made an effort.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, I guess.”

We walked in silence for a couple of more minutes as we approached the block that I lived on. I dreaded having to end the walk, because Peter’s company made me feel happy.

“Well, this is me,” I said, stopping short at the apartment entrance. Peter looked at the building and turned to me.

“We should do group projects together more often, it was fun.”

“We should,” I said, “we work really well together.” I smiled slightly.

Peter smiled back, looking at his shoes quickly, blush taking over his face. “We should definitely do more group projects together.”

“Definitely,” I agreed.

“Even if like, it’s just the two of us, we could still, y'know, work together,” Peter was back to his stuttering self. Now, I was the one blushing.

“I’d like that,” I said, “if you’re up for it, of course.”

“I mean, definitely, I am,” Peter said, looking up again, his arm slightly reaching towards me as he spoke. He realized he was reaching for me and blushed intensely, immediately moving it to his head, rubbing it as he turned.

“I guess I should be getting inside then?” I posed it as a question, wondering if we were done talking around this subject.

“Of course, its freezing!” Peter said. “Sorry, I babble.”

I turned to go inside, my hand pushing the door open. I turned around, leaning into the slightly open door and debated saying the words on the tip of my tongue. I got enough courage to say it. “I’d love to go out with you.”

“Oh good, you see, I was going to ask…” Peter continued to talk mindlessly, seeming to speak a mile per second, I smiled again, rolling my eyes as I pushed the door open some more.

“See you Monday, Parker,” I said, turning around and walking through the door.

“Yeah, Monday,” he waved, smiling widely as I walked away.

Do you really mean that?

It was rather amusing watching Rafael actively trying to ignore his vibrating phone which sat upside down on the table in the restaurant. It was the first time you had been back there since your first date. The vein on his forehead was pulsing prominently and he seemed incredibly stressed out.

“Just answer it!” you said.

“No. Is it too much to ask for some time alone with you?”

“You’re an important man, it’s only natural that people are going to demand your time and attention.” You tried to keep from smiling while saying this but your attempts were unsuccessful, particularly after he started rolling his eyes at you.

“Very funny.”

Before you could reply, your phone started ringing angrily. How can a phone be angry you ask? Honestly, you had no idea, but if ever a phone has sounded angry and urgent, yours did at that very moment. You and Rafael looked at each other, resigned to the fact that your evening was ruined.

“Hey Liv!” you answered, as cheerily as your could manage.

“Where is Barba?” She sounded stressed, you decided against scolding her for interrupting your evening.

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Without a doubt

‘He was sick last week so don’t let him fool you when he says he can eat ice-cream’ Yoongi gives Hoseok a knowing look before turning to his son to send him a warning glare.

‘Sure. Okay, Kook let’s go’ Hoseok salutes Yoongi with a shit eating grin on his face before grabbing Jungkook in the middle and throwing him over the shoulder causing the kid to squeal happily and kick his legs against Hoseok’s chest. They leave the cafe and the moment Jungkook is placed on the ground he runs towards the swings on the small playground adjacent to the building. Jimin sighs heavily watching Hoseok run after the boy. The glass separating them isn’t enough to mute all the screaming he makes (Hoseok it is) so Jimin just gives Yoongi a silent apology.

'They’re 20 years apart but I can’t tell who’s more immature’ Yoongi shakes his head but smiles softly when Jungkook waves at him. 'You don’t wanna wait for Hoseok? We can just-’

'No’ Jimin refuses so quickly Yoongi raises an eyebrow. 'No, actually I wanna talk about Hoseok’ He glances nervously towards the playground where his beloved husband is having the time of his life with a 7-year-old Jungkook pushing him forward to swing him- a grown, 27-year-old man.

'Okay.’ Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee not hiding at all his concerns. 'You fought or something?’

'No, no don’t worry’ Jimin waves his dismissively 'I just…’ His words trail off when he watches Hoseok throw Jungkook high in the air but before he can shout in fear Jungkook’s already safe and sound in Hoseok’s arm laughing in excitement. None of them seem to give a single fuck about poor Jimin almost getting a heart attack.

'I know plastic spoons are for free here, but there’s no need to abuse them’ Yoongi breaks him out of his thoughts carefully pulling the broken plastic away. 'They have feelings too’

'He’s so irresponsible’ Jimin blurts out, just like that, ignoring Yoongi’s both raised eyebrows and slightly open mouth, staring at the scene behind the glass wall.

'So that’s what it is about’

'Hyung…’

'Jimin, seriously, why are you like this?’ Yoongi leans against the back of his seat crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin is looking away from him but the older is having none of this. 'You’ve been talking about it for years, you signed the papers a few weeks ago and you’re not going to be more ready than you are now. What’s wrong?’

'This is such a huge responsibility but he keeps acting like it’s a joke’ Jimin’s tone is sour, laced with guilt and disappointment.

'Hey-’

I’m the one who thinks about the future, I’m the one who thinks about changing the car and doing a general makeover. I’m the one stressing over the fact that my life, our life is never going to be the same and we need to slow down and become more mature. I took care of the paperwork. It was all me.’

'But is it really because Hoseok himself doesn’t do it?’ Yoongi speaks after a few silent moments, letting Jimin catch a much-needed breath. 'Or because you don’t think he’d manage’

'Cause he never takes things seriously-’ Jimin tries to argue but Yoongi silences him with a simple move of a hand.

'It’s too late for changing your mind and you know it. But tell me, honestly, what is this that you’re really scared of?’ The silence is thick and suffocating, like a dense chocolate pudding sliding down Jimin’s throat and into his lungs. Yoongi doesn’t push him but Jimin knows that he’ll have to speak eventually.

'What if he drops him or pulls his hand too hard. What if he gives him something bad to eat or worse- forgets to feed him at all? What if he’s going to be just joking around and I’ll be alone in this mess, hyung.’ Yoongi catches Jimin’s hand laying on top of the table when the first drop falls down with an inaudible splash. 'I love him but I’m not sure if this is what he wants’

'What are you saying…’

'He’d do anything for me, I’m sure of it’ Jimin sniffs quickly averting his eyes from the playground. 'That’s why I’m not sure if we both want the same thing’

'Now this is just pure bullshit’ Yoongi squeezes his hand supportively handing him a napkin to get rid of the tears. 'Jimin, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.’

'But-’

'Have I ever disappointed you?’ The older gives him a pointed look.

'No…’

'Exactly’ Yoongi lifts his chin with a finger, smiling at him softly before turning the younger’s head towards the playground just when Hoseok throws Jungkook forward like a sack of potatoes. Jimin is already standing up when a pair of arms appear from nowhere catching the kid mid-air before he could crash his head on the ground. He gasps gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white but then Yoongi touches his wrist making him jerk in surprise.

'I know that you’re scared’ Yoongi starts pulling Jimin down onto the seat. 'I know that you start doubting him but trust me, I went through the same’ Jimin watches as Taehyung pushes Jungkook onto the pile of sand next to the swing, much to Hoseok’s amusement, before laughing himself. If not for Yoongi who’s still holding his wrist, he would run over to check if Jungkook’s injured and to yell at the idiots for acting like- like… Like idiots. But Jungkook screams in happiness, throwing sand towards Taehyung, towards Hoseok and he looks so carefree-

'It’s going to be fine. I promise’ Yoongi squeezes his hand one last time when Taehyung pulls Jungkook into a loving hug which of course the kid rejects, pushing and whining at the amount of love he’s receiving from his other dad. And Jimin catches himself locking eyes with Hoseok who waves at him with all his body, screaming and making stupid faces before sweeping Jungkook off his feet again.

'I hope so’




'Babe, stop pacing around. It’ll be fine

Two months later Jimin finds himself threading paths in their living room like a madman. He can’t calm down his nerves, not when today is the day. But of course, Hoseok acts like it’s nothing telling stupid jokes and asking Jimin to stop worrying like it’s that simple.

The adoption center they chose accepted their application two years ago and since then, they’ve been waiting for a chance to give one of the children a new home. And the chance showed up half a year ago when the center decided they fit all the requirements. After endless meetings with the adoption counselor and hundreds of conversation with the psychologist, they finally officially could adopt a child.

They saw the boy already, of course, but always from afar, always through the separating glass. The counselor was here yesterday with all the needed papers to sign, with the last tips and that’s all. That’s it. The center offered to bring the child themselves so Jimin can’t wait to hear the knock on the door as much as he’s terrified to finally hear it.

But the moment comes quite quickly, the sound of knocking resonating loudly in the unnaturally quiet house. He feels like ice got into his veins making him freeze in place, unable to move. Hoseok giggles causing Jimin to furrow his eyebrows in worry before standing up and walking towards the door. The next 30 minutes is a blur, with the counselor talking and talking and for the first time, it’s Hoseok who’s doing the speaking and listening and Jimin’s just standing there, frozen and scared.

And when another woman gets in, holding their baby in a carrier they bought, Jimin is speechless, breathless and he can’t believe it’s happening. But then all the worries come back when the woman pulls their baby out and turns towards Hoseok. Jimin knows his husband has the same right to hold their baby first as much as Jimin has, he knows that it’s probably because he’s standing closer to the woman but he still can’t help but feel like it should be him. A million thoughts run through his head. What if Hoseok holds the boy wrong? What if he bursts out in laughter? What if he throws him in the air like he does with Jungkook and drops it and-

Hoseok takes the baby from the woman, cradling the little boy in his arms with such tenderness and delicacy, his hands forming a perfect shape to hold him. Jimin hears the muffled voices of the women, hears Hoseok saying something but all he can see is how perfect Hoseok looks with their baby in his arms. And then it’s silent again, the room empty except for Hoseok and the little human in a white little blanket. Jimin can’t take his eyes off the sight in front of him.

Hoseok started to sway gently from side to side, the motion slowly putting both Jimin and the baby to sleep. His husband places a weightless kiss on their son’s forehead, the smile on his lips widening when he pulls away.

'Baby. Come here, you’ve been waiting for so long’ Hoseok quietly calls him, bringing him back to reality. It takes Jimin a short moment of hesitation before his legs warm up enough to let him move forward but when he finally does, he almost runs. He knows he’s crying before he really feels it but he also knows that’s not entirely because of the fact their baby is finally with them.

'I’m so sorry’ He buries his face in Hoseok’s neck, biting his lip to prevent himself from whimpering too loud afraid to wake up the little miracle.

'What?’ Hoseok turns his head to the side, pressing hot lips to the crown of Jimin’s head. 'What are you sorry for, silly?’

Jimin doesn’t answer right away, cursing himself for ever doubting Hoseok. Blame it on fear, hormones, bad weather but he just can’t understand how he could think Hoseok would not be a good, the best father for their baby. Yes, he’s annoying and loud and laughs at everything but he also knows when to be serious. And this is one of these moments.

'Nothing. Nothing at all. I love you. I love that you’re my husband and that you’re in this with me’ Jimin kisses Hoseok’s neck, wraps an arm around his waist to take a look at their son.

'Of course, I am’ Hoseok furrows his eyebrows in confusion, pressing his forehead to Jimin’s temple. 'I love you so much, Jimin’ Gently pulling away he turns to face the younger. 'I’m sorry I got to hold him first. I know how much it means to you-’

'Don’t be ridiculous’ Jimin shakes his head but takes the baby from Hoseok when the older motions for him to do it. He holds the baby close, nuzzling his nose into the fluffy blanket.

'Yoongi talked to me’ Hoseok says but there’s no bitterness in his tone like he just states the obvious.

'He did?’ Jimin feels himself getting pale, the guilt freezing him in place.

'Yeah’ Hoseok nods running a hand through Jimin’s hair. 'What did you expect from my best friend?’

'I’m so sorry’

'No. It’s fine. I know how I am most of the time’ He smiles gently kissing Jimin on the mouth. 'But I promise you, I’ll never hurt our baby and I’ll never hurt you. Intentionally at least’ Jimin sighs.

'I know. Of course, I know this. I fucking married you after all’

'Yeah, yeah you did’ Hoseok grins and all the worries, all the stupid thoughts Jimin has been having for so long, disappear in this single moment. Kneeling in front of the carrier, he puts their baby inside giving him a kiss on the head.

'And I’d do it again’ He says quietly turning to his husband, his lover and his friend.

'Without a doubt’ Hoseok winks playfully leaning down to kiss Jimin breathless.



Hello. I’m back with this fluffy puffy shit. 

6
Bloodlines - Part 3

A/N: Based off of the song “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots, this will be a multichapter fic with either a lyric being a chapter title, or the headers to break down the thought process of the chapter. None of the lyrics are mine, and they are all in bold - Again, I do not claim to own them, all credit where credit is due.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Word Count: 1,488 (Not including lyrics.)

Warnings: Talks of the Hale House Fire.

Beautiful people who helped me when I came to them with this crazy idea and said to run with it: @wheresthekillswitch @obsessed-withthe-hales @aworldmadeforme @life-what-life-i-dont-have-one @xteenwolfwritingsx

Coming back to Beacon Hills was supposed to be uneventful. Yet somehow, you are now stuck in the middle of two worlds you didn’t even know existed yesterday. Now between both worlds, but not belonging to either, you try to forge your own way, finding out that some ties are stronger than bloodlines.

Part 1, Part 2

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mile high club

Neil is frowning at his phone, fussing with buttons and ultimately gives a sigh before shoving it back in his pocket. Andrew turns his head, a silent question in his eyes.

Neil shakes his head.  “The wifi up here sucks.”

“I’m sure Kevin’s team won. Your exy obsession can wait, junkie.”

Neil hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything back for once.

Strange.

Neil always has something to say about Exy. And Kevin. Which meant this had to do with neither. Andrew turns to look at him again, this time there’s a demand in his eyes.

Neil rolls his eyes, “It’s nothing, just curious about something.”

Andrew begins twirling his pen, patience was never one of his strong points. Especially thousands of feet in the air. He narrows his gaze at Neil.

“Staring,” is all Neil has to say, the corners of his mouth betray a smile, which Neil is quick to fight off. Because Neil is not always as stupid as he seems.

Andrew turns his attention to the pen in his fingers and considers stabbing it through Neil’s throat.

“The air lock is a lot less messy,” Neil says. He hates how as of late his thoughts have become increasingly predictable to Neil. But, sometimes he thinks it’s okay because he can read Neil just as easily.

“No,” he pauses as he looks down at his pen, still twirling it away, “You’d drag me down with you.” At those words Neil doesn’t even try to hide his grin.

Neil tilts his head towards Andrew, “What’s the mile high club?”

At this Andrew stops twirling his pen, his gaze darkens, and a crinkle forms on his forehead, “What?”

Neil straightens in his seat, “I think we should join it.”

Andrew lets out a slow breath, “Neil, what do you think the mile club is?”

Neil shrugs. “I was trying to look it up. Is it like a gym at an airport?”

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Hush (Part Two)

Barba x Reader
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven
Finale

You sit up on the bed abruptly, startled by the loud vibration coming from the wall behind you. You rub your eyes trying to get used to the noise combined with the sunlight slipping through the curtains.

The vibrations were so fierce that it made your watch move across the bedside table. When the drilling stopped, you hoped that meant that they were finally done. The clamorous sounds were replaced by the harmonious chirping of robins on the other side of the window.

A sound you very much preferred.

You pull the soft sheets to cover your body, suddenly mindful of the quaint chilly air. You slowly slide back down on the bed, eager to rid your thoughts of the interruptions to your sleep.

The moment your head touched the pillow, however, the drilling noise had returned, seemingly louder than before. You lifted the blanket so that it covered your head, and groaned in irritation.

“They’ve been at it for two days.”

You lowered the blanket just enough to peek at the person next to you. Rafael’s eyelids remained closed, making you wonder how long he had actually been awake. He craned his neck slightly, and interlaced his fingers before placing them on his abdomen. You smiled at the small shimmy movement he made to try and make himself more comfortable.

Clearly you weren’t the only one in denial about not being able to sleep a bit longer. Not that it surprised you. You were almost sure even Rafael could not remember the last time he actually slept in.

Rest would be good for him, you thought, as you took mental note of the dark circles under his eyes and his hollow cheeks. You survey the stubble that decorated his jaw, a pleasant combination of dark and gray hairs that grazed your skin when you kept your bodies wrapped against one another.

You move closer to him to place a chaste kiss on his bare shoulder. A part of you still questioned this reality; lying here by his side, waking up to the sounds of construction work together. You wondered if you were being too bold, and if you were jinxing it if you admitted that this was beginning to feel like a perfect morning?

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Run To You // Sam Wilson x Reader P3

Pairing: Sam Wilson x POC Reader
Word Count: 2k+
Warning: fluff, language, angst, abuse mentions, violence (justice) , FEELINGS

Summary: Andrew finally gets what he deserves. Steve makes a mistake. Healing from psychological trauma is always a lot easier said than done, but your newfound family makes sure you know you’re not alone. 

A/N: Holy hell! You guys are absolutely fantastic with your feedback! I can’t believe you like this so much!  This is probably going to end up have way more than 4 parts lmao. I cannae be stopped.

Inspiration: “In Repair” ~ John Mayer

Too many corners in my mind,
So much to do to set my heart right.
Oh, it’s taking so long,
I could be wrong, I could be ready.
Oh, but if I take my heart’s advice,
I should assume it’s still unsteady.
I am in repair…I’m not together but I’m getting there…”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

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anonymous asked:

Naruto, Sasuke and Shikamaru headcanons on how they would act when their s/o leaves on a particularly dangerous mission and after few months without news, they receive something like confirmation that you died (I'm sorry for such a sad request, but i really want some angst)

So I wrote this last night, and I literally found out my grandmother pasted away this morning – it’s just horribly ironic. She had been having heart complications for eight months before it got the best of her. But now I’m powerless to do anything since I’m four hours away from their home and I start college tomorrow. So I’ve trying to cope with it all day so far, but this whole headcanon really spoke to me on another level when I re-read it and I feel like it’s broken my heart. :(

It was a good ask though anon, and I did enjoy doing it yesterday a lot. Thank you.

How Naruto Would React to His Partner Dying

  • When Naruto first heard the news, he would be consumed by anger. He would be upset that he wasn’t there to save his s/o – in his heart he knows he could have stopped it all from happening. Naruto wouldn’t want to blame anyone for what happened, but he would definitely confront the people who were in his partner’s squad and ask them how they could let this occur. He would probably listen to them, but he just couldn’t fathom how something this tragic could happen to someone he loved so dearly, the first step to grieving for him would be anger and frustration.
  • After a day or two he would probably calm down, but no amount of friendly support would really help him cope in the beginning. Naruto would probably cry privately about it a lot and if his thoughts drifted to them in public he would have a hard time keeping it together. Nothing would look as cheery and joyous as before, even ramen wouldn’t have the same flavor if he wasn’t eating it with his s/o. His happy attitude would probably be stifled for months, and it would take him a year before he could bring himself to actually smile and mean it. 
  • Naruto would be very loyal to the memory of his deceased partner. He wouldn’t try and replace them because Naruto knows he couldn’t. He would just begrudgingly try to accept the fact that they no longer are in his life.

How Shikamaru Would React to His Partner Dying

  • Shikamaru would probably just stand there wide eyed with his jaw open in disbelief. His mind would probably be racing through all these terrible scenarios of how things played out – and how he could have stopped it from happening in the first place. Shikamaru would be in shock for a few minutes, before he would start to cry and try his best to pull himself together.
  • Grieving silently is Shikamaru’s way of trying to cope. He would bottle up all his anguish, anger and frustration for a week before he just couldn’t take it anymore. It would probably just take some tiny incident for him to just snap and start sobbing uncontrollably. He probably would compose himself again in an hour after a good cry. Try his best to accept things and move on would seem impossible, but he would make a sad attempt.
  • He would never be the same person, and for months he would he depressed and carry so much guilt in his heart because he should have been there for his partner. I don’t see Shikamaru as the type of person who would find someone else either, he just wouldn’t want to try a second time for love. For him all that effort to possibly have his heart broken a second time just wouldn’t be worth it.

How Sasuke Would React to His Partner Dying

  • Sasuke would openly deny it at first, to him it would be a bold face lie and he might even get insulted by the accusation. Not until he was presented with some proof would he realize it had some merit. He would definitely be shocked about it and wouldn’t even know what to say.
  • He would probably cry about it privately a few times, but he would quickly accept it as a reality. It wouldn’t be beneath him to hunt down the person who was responsible for his s/o’s death – getting justice is very important to Sasuke. For him any form of retribution would be bring him very close to consolation.
  • There would never be another person Sasuke would really love again. He wouldn’t see the point in getting attached to anyone else – the thought of losing another lover just sours his desire for anything romantic and intimate ever again. 
Broken Home - M.C.

I feel like I always give Mikey the most dramatic imagines…probably going to do a part two of this, just not today because I’m on my way to baby sit 3 diablos.

__________________________________________

Michael woke up to his phone ringing loudly answering it without hesitation. “Y/n…it’s,” he started before looking towards his alarm clock “3am baby girl. You have class in five hours. Why are you still-”

“Mikey…can you come pick me up please?” She whispered into the phone. Michael sat up running a hand through his hair before running it down his face in an attempt to wake up.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Please…can you just-” she started before being cut off by the sound of glass in the background followed by a female yelling loudly.

“Baby, what’s going on?”

“They’re fighting again,” she whispered once again. He breathed heavily climbing out of the bed before reaching for a pair of jeans by his bed.

“I’ll be there in five.”

Michael sat backstage of the venue in New York thinking of the girl he left behind only two years ago, not that it was his choice.

“We’re going on in thirty…you ready?” Calum asked sitting next to his friend noting his strained face.

“How do you think she is, Cal?”

“Who….? Y/n? I don’t know Mike….can’t you just text her?” He shook his head remembering the night she walked out on him. The last night they ever talked, right before they left for their first tour.

Michael let his lips trail up the skin on her neck as he slowly eased his way into her. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, and it was the only way he knew how without verbally saying it and having her shut him down. His thrusts were slow and deep causing a shiver to run down her spine as he pinned her hands above her head kissing her with as much passion as he could. Within seconds he was pushed to the side to see her scrambling to her feet, fear in her eyes.

“Wh-what the fuck was that?” She asked stuttering crossing her arms over her chest refusing to make eye contact with him.

“I was making lo-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that, Michael,” she pleaded finally looking at him, her eyes watering. “You can’t love me, Mikey.”

“And why the hell not?” He asked now flustered himself, his face a deep red in embarrassment.

“Because I can’t love you the same way…I can’t do it.” She started putting her clothes on, her body shaking.

“Y/n, look at me.” She did as he was told seeing pain in his eyes. “Do you love me?”

“Mikey, sto-.”

“Do. You. Love. Me?” He asked not accepting her blowing off the question. “

Yes…and that’s why I need to leave, Michael…I can’t hurt you more than I am right now.” By time she finished that statement, she was completely dressed, leaving before Michael could catch up considering he was fully nude. By the next morning, her phone had been disconnected. He didn’t bother going to her parent’s house knowing she wouldn’t be there. She hadn’t lived there in over a year. He attempted calling a few of her friends, but none of them had seen her longer than him.

He hadn’t explained the entire situation to Calum when it happened. He knew her just as well as Michael had, even helping Michael write the song Broken Home about the female. All Calum knew was that one minute, Michael was fine and next, he was a heartbroken mess.

“I think she’s doing alright, Mike…she has to be. It’s y/n. She’s always been strong.” Michael nodded his head agreeing with his friend sighing as time passed by slowly. But for whatever reason, he just couldn’t help the feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Come on. Let’s go get ready.” Just as the two stood up, Michael got a call from an unknown number, answering it despite the looks he was getting from Calum.

“Hello?”

“Is this Michael Clifford?” A male voice asked on the other line.

“Can I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Dr. Jones, from Massachusetts General hospital…you were placed in y/n’s phone as an emergency contact.” Michael stood there confused and in disbelief before worry soon washed through his body. “She’s here in the ICU under psychiatric watch. She overdosed. Is there anyway you can come in? We aren’t really sure who else to call. She doesn’t seem to have any family members listed.”

“I can be on the next plane in the morning and be there in the afternoon,” he said earning a confused look from Calum.

“Alright. Thank you.”

Michael hung up the phone looking at Calum laughing dryly. “I found her. She’s in Mass General overdosed.”

~

Y/n woke up to the sound of hushed whispers and a bright light in her face. She knew from the way her head was pounding and how dry her mouth felt that she wasn’t where she wanted to be. And when she finally opened her eyes spotting bright green puff of hair, she really knew this was the last place she wanted to be.

“I thought you would’ve woken up before I got here,” she heard knowing he was speaking to her, refusing to look up and meet the bright emerald eyes of Michael Gordon Clifford. “They called me because I was the only one in your phone listed as an emergency contact.” She started picking at her nail beds as tears stung her eyes. “At least have the decency to look me in the eyes after two years, y/n.” She looked up slowly regretting it almost immediately seeing how tired and distraught he looked. “You know, the doctor called me right before my show last night. I was so confused when he said I was an emergency contact considering you walked out on me. And, here we are, two years later. I at least thought the next time we’d be seeing each other i’d be taking you out for a cup of coffee. Not trying to get you out of the psych ward of a hospital.” Tears silently left her eyes as she looked down again. “I’m not even mad at you like I feel I should be. I’m scared as hell actually. I cried almost the entire plane ride this morning because it was such a high possibility you wouldn’t even wake up…fuck,” he swore going to hit the wall, stopping himself quickly. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m sorry,” she let the raspy words leave her mouth. Her throat was dry and the sound of her voice wasn’t close to how it usually sounded.

“How long were you on the dope?” He asked handing her his water bottle she she quickly downed in seconds.

“Yesterday was the only time I did it,” she muttered remembering the guy that tied the band on her forearm before helping her to inject the poison in her body. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was silent again in the small hospital room aside from the constant beeping coming from heart monitors and the fact her blood pressure was taken every five minutes. “How’s the band?”

“Fine,” he said giving her a one word answer. She nodded looking towards the far wall knowing all too well it was more than fine. They were in the middle of their second tour, they were playing Boston in two days…she even had tickets to see them, not that she would tell Michael that. She kept tabs on him, loving how he was thriving and becoming his own person. School had never been his thing.

“I like your music…Sounds Good, Feels Good is a great album..” He looked at her confused cocking his head to the side. “I bought it when it came out. I have the first one too.”

“We weren’t your parents,” he whispered ignoring her statement about his music. “I thought I was doing enough to show you that when we were together…”

“I told you already that none of this was you, Mikey…it’s all me…I just, I don’t believe in love. I don’t believe in marriage…I don’t see the point of it. Giving yourself to someone…your entire being, your trust, only to have them step on it? My father cheated on my mom for seven years. He refused to let her divorce him. He financially threw us down the drain to go out every weekend, and for what? To come home drunk screaming at my mom? Telling her that it’s her fault he had to cheat because she wouldn’t put out? Her fault they didn’t have money to pay bills…no thank you. I want no part in that,” she said, tears starting to fall again, not as quiet.

“I’m not your god damned father, y/n!” This time his hand connected with the wall, his face red and eyes clouded over. “For fuck’s sake, when have I ever acted like him? I’ve never put my hands on you or blamed you for anything. Not even when you left me. The entire time, I asked myself what more I could do…you can’t compare everything to your family. You can’t keep living in the past!” He stuck his hands in his pockets looking away from her. “Love can be beautiful…it can be such a beautiful thing…I want to be able to show you that, if you’ll let me try again.” She looked at him in disbelief as he finally looked back to her, his bottom lip covered with teeth as his nerves set in.

“Why would you want to do that…after everything…after all of this, you still want me..?” She asked as he sat in the chair next to her bed. The door opened slowly revealing three worried band members as they poked their heads through the door. She only knew Calum and Luke, having gone to school with them. Ashton was a figure she hadn’t gotten the chance to meet yet. “I’m not taking you away from your band, Michael.”

“You won’t be,” he whispered back to her gripping her hand noting she hadn’t looked back to him yet. “Just sleep on it…alright? I’m going to grab something to eat.” He stood up from the chair leaving the room with the other boys as she looked down at her lap once again, only to be startled by the door opening again revealing Calum Hood.

“Can we talk?”

“I guess so,” she muttered watching him shut the door quietly behind him. “If Michael put you up to th-”

“He thinks I’m in the bathroom…listen, y/n…I understand completely why you did what you did…but he hasn’t been the same Michael since you left and, quite frankly, I don’t think you were quite fair with how you left. Falling in love can be scary when you don’t even know how love works, but let him at least teach you how it’s done.” He made his way back to the door opening it slightly. “He’s scared too if that helps in any way.” He left her alone as she sat and thought about everything her and Michael had been through. They grew up as close friends in school, soon relying on him when she needed an outlet at 10 when the fighting with her parents began. Their first kiss was an accident, but in the moment she knew she wanted him to be her only kisses…it was Michael, after all…it was her Michael.

Golden (Part 1)

Originally posted by comfyjimin

Title: Golden

Pairing: Jungkook x You

Synopsis: His song recommendations on his blog were always there to put a smile on your face. Now if only you could find out who the mysterious blogger was.

A/N: Merry Late Christmas! I’m sorry for barely updating this blog. I had a huge writer’s block and school got in the way! But I’m back! Hopefully. Anyways, the summary of this story sucks but I promise it’s going to be better than what it sounds! Also, please listen to this while reading or… when you get to a certain part. You’ll know. Okay bye!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8


           You didn’t know why you decided to sign up for a Creative Writing class at your university. It wasn’t like you were ever going to become an author or something. Maybe it was just something you chose to do because it would give you those extra 3 credit hours that would bring you to 15 credits to consider yourself a full-time college student. Or maybe it was because it was an “easy A” class and you wanted your GPA as high as you could get it as a 2nd year college student. That, or maybe it was because the General Ed class you needed was to its capacity and Creative Writing was the only thing left that caught your attention.

           Either way, you didn’t expect the classroom to be in a lecture hall filled with almost 200 students. You were expecting a small classroom with maybe 15 students in it not this. But you still enjoyed the class. Most of the work was completed at home – or for you, your dorm – and in class discussions was just about ways to improve your writings and explaining when the next projects were due. You spent most of your days in the class catching up on some sleep since it was an 8am class that lasted about an hour and a half long. Luckily, you sat in the back and the stage where the professor stood upon was at the very front and she couldn’t see the back very well. Besides sleeping, sometimes you would chat with your friend and roommate, Chloe, but she made it a habit to only show up to the class only once a week despite the class meeting three times a week. You couldn’t really blame her; you did beg her for weeks to sign up with the class for you. She only caved in when you promised her a date with your senior buddy, Namjoon.

Keep reading

Kill Your Darlings (Caspian X Reader)

Caspian x Reader - Kill Your Darlings
By: Andromeda
Setting: Caspian Era
Contains: Attempted Murder

Andromeda’s Notes: I’m willing to put up a part two!
Amethyst’s Notes: Yooooo, another Lilith. I swear, what’s with Liliths’ always being bad. smh. (kidding, I already know. lmao)

Your name: submit What is this?

“I won’t ask you again. Who commissioned you?”

She swore lowly under her breath as the blade of the sword was pressed harder against her neck, piercing the bare skin. A slight nick really, but enough to draw blood. Glaring daggers at the men who held her body in a painful kneeling position on the stone floor in a contorted pose that would certainly leave her sore tomorrow, she returned her burning gaze back to the man who had addressed her. He was young, of course, not much older than herself in fact. With his dark, windswept hair that curled around his neck, bright amber-brown eyes, and the rigid set of his spine as he looked down at her with undisguised disdain, he practically exuded his royal heritage.

“How many times must I say it before it gets through your thick skull–” she winced as his knights tightened their grip on her arms in warning. “I will tell you nothing. Your Highness.” She added the last part with a taunting smile.

The King took a cautious step forward, eyes searching her face for any information she would divulge. She simply smirked at him, unwilling to let her irritation show through. “Throw her in the dungeons. I’ll deal with her later.”

“Yes, my Lord.” One of the knights bowed deeply before signaling the others to yank her up off her feet. She swore at them, out loud this time.

“Such a foul mouth for a lady.” The King quirked a brow.

“Good thing I’m not a lady.” She hissed as the knights dragged her out of the council chambers to the dungeons.

***

The following day at dawn, Caspian practically wore a deep valley in his carpet from pacing back and forth. He had awoken from his sleep with a start in the early hours with the revelation of why the girl had seemed so familiar.  She was (Y/n) Y/L/N, notorious assassin of King Frances’ court in Archenland– Narnia’s historical adversary. She was known by many names, as were her allies, in all the lands. Any one of the names of the three Huntresses was enough to strike fear deep in the hearts of men and beasts alike.  

Yet, something still bothered him.

She had been caught slipping a lethal dose of belladonna into his drink, dressed as a servant in the kitchens. Her methods were not the question here. What troubled him was the fact that she was caught. (Y/n) was uncannily masterful at her trade, if rumors were to be believed. She never failed. 

Not unless she had wanted just that, of course. 

Caspian rushed down to the dungeons the second the thought dawned on him. Nodding to the guards as they bowed to him, he took up a torch and let one of the guards lead him to her cell. She sat upon the bare bed with an unnatural rigidity, legs tucked delicately under her body with her eyelids closed over her piercing Y/E/C eyes. Caspian was, once again, struck by her undeniable beauty. With those long locks of Y/H/C hair that framed her sharply defined features and the ethereal contours of her body from a lifetime of training, she looked more akin to a goddess than a mere mortal human. 

“(Y/n) Y/L/N.” Caspian stated flatly.

Her eyes flickered open, fixating upon him with that penetrating look she’d given him in the courtroom yesterday. A small smile graced her bow-shaped lips, the corners of her eyes crinkling in slight amusement. 

“Your wits haven’t left you entirely, after all. I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten me.” There was a lilt of an accent he had heard amongst those who came from Archenland. 

Setting the torch in its brazier, he folded his arms to look at her through the bars. She leaned back lazily, supporting her body with one arm. He was reminded immediately of the brief moment he had laid eyes upon her all those years ago after the fall of Telmar when King Frances had requested his presence at a celebratory feast. She had been wearing a beautiful dress of fine, emerald silk then, sitting at the far end of the table. She had looked upon him once and then never again, but he had found himself inexplicably drawn to her. He blamed her beauty.

“It is difficult to forget such a face as yours, Huntress.” He tense slightly as she swung her legs out from beneath her to sit up straight. There was an elegance to her every movement. “I come only to see if you can offer me some insight into why it is you let yourself be seen and captured by my men in your poor effort to poison me.”

A wicked grin from her set his nerves on edge. “You are not as foolish as they say you are.” 

He ignored her slight. “Answer me, (Y/n). Why are you here?”

Her expression sobered quickly, and she stood from her perch on the uncomfortable bed, taking a step towards him. “Why would I risk my life and freedom to come to you here in Narnia only to be willingly captured and thrown into this filthy cell?” 

Though they were separated by wrought-iron bars, he felt incredibly exposed by her searching gaze. “I can only imagine something terrible has befallen you and Archenland.” 

She stared at him long and hard, so intently that he wasn’t sure if she was glaring or simply transfixed, before casting her gaze to the small barred window that let in light at the very top corner of the cell. “I have come to warn you, Caspian. Frances… Well, Frances has fallen under the spell of an enchantress who does not wish you well….” 

“Lilith.” Caspian’s blood ran cold. His experiences with the dark enchantress had been few and unpleasant. 

“Yes, Lilith. He will not listen to reason. There is a plot to attack Narnia, usurp your throne. Frances is unaware of what he is doing. If he was in his right mind, never would such a thing come to transpire…” She was mere inches from the bars now, and he found himself leaning forwards to hear as  her voice dropped. “But I fear Lilith’s hold over him is too strong. I do not know how to break the enchantment, Caspian. My sisters have been chained and locked up in the dungeons of the palace. The entire citadel is suffering under her wrath.” Her hands had wrapped around the cold bars as she looked up at him with some strong emotion swimming in her eyes that he could not quite place.

“Then why go to all this trouble to stage a plan to kill me? Why not just come to me in confidence, (Y/n)?” He frowned, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

Her eyebrows knit together in a frown that mirrored his. “It is all part of my plan. It was all I could do to convince Lilith that I wished you dead and that Frances was a weak king. She sent me here to kill you. When you sent word to Frances last night that I had been captured, she will believe I was true to my word. And…” She looked at him with an almost pleading expression. “And if you help me, we can use that to our advantage.” 

Caspian felt his throat constrict a little at all this new information. He would have to hold court as soon as possible, discuss everything with his knights and advisers. If Lilith was preparing Archenland for war, then Narnia would have to answer twofold. 

“Why should I trust you?” He met her gaze and held it steadily, looking for any trace of a lie.

“Because, Caspian. Believe it or not, I do care for your wellbeing and the future of Narnia. For as long as Narnia stands strong, the lands are kept at peace. Should Narnia fall, well… I fear the lands are doomed to slay one another until there are none left. Narnia, Archenland, Calormen, the Eastern Isles…. forsaken and demolished.” 

“Well, then. I suppose we should get you out of this cell?” 

She smiled and raised her head, eyes alight with a burning fire.