i butchered it completely and then tried to get it back to normal

"You could've chosen me..."

Pairing: Bellamy x Kane Daughter!Reader 

Summary: (Y/N) Kane has been in a relationship with Bellamy Blake since the dropship landed on Earth. However with Bellamy’s choice to align himself with Pike, their relationship becomes strained. (Y/N) must decide what to do. Especially when her dad gets sentenced to death because of treason.

Based on 3x08

A/N: this is my very first attempt at writing something like this so i apologize if i completely butchered it. But in the slight chance that you enjoyed it, please like and maybe reblog? Thanks xx

Tensions were rising all around Arkadia as Chancellor Pike and his guard dogs started to discovered who was working against him. With Octavia going radio silence, we had no contact outside the wall. But per usual, my dad had a plan. The Grounders wanted Pike’s head and the few of us were willing to help them get it. All we had to do was perfectly execute the plan. 

Sinclair was first. He would pretend to work on Rover 1, drawing the attention of the guards. If everything goes well, Sinclair will be placed in lock up where he can tell Lincoln the plan to start a riot. Next came my dad, Kane would ask to set up a meeting with Pike. In doing so, he’ll be able to kidnap Pike. To do so however, comes in the lock up riot. Miller and Harper would act normally as guards until Lincoln and Sinclair are able to trick Bellamy into opening the lock up cage, starting the riot. Then Miller and Harper would fight along side Sinclair and the other Grounders to distract all the available guards with Pike. Once Pike is alone with my dad, Kane will electrocute him and load him into Rover 1 for the Grounders. Now comes me. My job is to distract Monty to make sure he doesn’t receive any intel that will give up our plan. However, that’s when everything went to shit.

I was on my way to Monty when two guards approached me.

Kane, what’re you doing in these quarters?” asked the slightly taller guard.

Can’t a girl just take a walk without being questioned?” I tried to walk past them but they grabbed my arms.

Not when your dad is leading the opposition against Chancellor Pike” retorted the other guard. The guards started dragging me away and that’s how i ended up locked in a room with those two idiots guarding the outside.

I sat there for what felt like hours thinking. My mind drifted to Bellamy. By fate, destiny, or whatever you want to call it, I fell in love with Bellamy Blake. From the moment the dropship landed on Earth, we had something special. However, lately things have been different. We argued almost daily because of his decision to align himself with Pike. I knew deep down he didn’t agree with Pike’s actions yet for some reason, he was being too strong headed to admit he was wrong. I honestly don’t know how much longer i can put up with it. I feel completely split between the love of my life, Bellamy, and the first man i ever loved, my father. However, my thoughts were interrupted by the door unlocking and a figure walking it.

I looked up and recognized the tall figure as Bellamy. 

Did you know about it?” he asked as he walked closer to the table where I sat.

Did i know about what?

Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Please (Y/N). Just tell the truth. Did you know about the plan to kidnap Pike and turn him over to the Grounders?” I looked down. I knew this would turn into an argument one way or another and i really wanted to avoid it.

You know, it didn’t work.” he added.

Well obviously” i muttered back under my breath.

“Your father was caught. Pike charged him with treason.

This caught my attention. I looked up at Bellamy and saw distress written all over his face. His mistake, however, was avoiding my eyes.

What aren’t you telling me?” i asked quietly, scared to hear the answer to the question.

Pike sentenced your dad to death… (Y/N), im so sorry. I never thought it would come down to us killing our own people.

I snapped my head up and looked at him. Why was he apologizing? He was in the riot at lock up. 

Who was it? Who was the guard that stopped my dad from driving out of those gates to finally achieve real peace with the Grounders?” i asked, anger and hurt prominently laced in my voice. 

(Y/N)…” Bellamy said as he looked away from me.

I’ll ask again. Who was it? Who’s fault is it that i’m going to lose my dad?

It was me. I stopped him. But (Y/N) i swear to you, i didn’t think…

At this point i stopped listening. I was numb. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the emotions coursing through my body. My dad, the only family member i had left, was being sentenced to death because of Bellamy. i could hear Bellamy still talking but his words were going in one ear and out the other. Soon, i couldn’t stop my body from being overcome with sobs as my mind finally wrapped itself around the fact that I might never get to see my dad again. However, i was drawn out of this state when Bellamy came over and laid his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. My sadness was now replaced with anger as i quickly stood up.

Don’t touch me” i growled at him. Hurt flashed through Bellamy’s eyes. 

(Y/N) you have to believe me. i didn’t think it would ever go this far. I just thought we could rid ourselves of the Grounder threat. If your dad would’ve-

If my dad would’ve what?” my voice was dangerously low at this point and i could tell Bellamy knew he was threading on thin ice.

I didn’t mean it that way. I just… i dont know, okay? Is that what you wnat to hear? I made a mistake. It all happened so fast and there was nothing I could do.

You could’ve chosen the right side, Bellamy. You could’ve chosen me and Octavia and Clarke. You could’ve chosen The 100 kids who were forced to come down to Earth.

What do you want from me (Y/N)? Please just tell me and i’ll do it.” Bellamy pleaded.

I want you to leave. I want you to walk out that door and never come back. I want you to think about the fact that because of you, my dad is going to die

i couldn’t tell if what i was saying was what i truly wanted but in this moment, it seemed right. I had to stand by my dad and do what’s right. And if that meant leaving Bellamy, then so be it. Bellamy stood there and looked at me for a minute before he sighed and walked towards the door.

Is this what you really want?” he asked, looking back at me one more time. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t trust myself right now. He took my silence as an answer. 

May we meet again…” he whispered as he walked through the door.

Crying, i slid down the wall i was bracing myself on and curled my knees to my chest. I had just lost my dad and my boyfriend in the matter of a day.

Originally posted by chatnoirs-baton

Logged in - Part 2

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Dean x Reader: Sam tells Dean and the reader about a new online community for hunters and they both scoff at him, but secretly use it and end up drawn to each other.

Word Count: 3271

Triggers: None really

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour  Y/H/C = Your hair colour

Note: This was only supposed to be a two parter… But now it looks like there’ll be a third part. Wanted to try out a different format of writing. Let me know what you think! 

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to one month, then two, as you spent most of your evenings and nights when in the bunker talking to J.T. The conversation going from flirty, to serious, to weird and then back to flirty again fast enough to give anyone a whiplash. The flirting, among other things, only upped as time passed. With both J.T and you having equally sharp wits and dirty minds, your conversations were always interesting. If not always PG.

Somehow you never had to wait long when you logged in and he wasn’t online. It was almost as if he could sense you waiting. Though hell, you’d never admit that you were waiting. Even if you weren’t using the page for much except speaking to J.T anymore.  

And as you dropped, not all that gracefully, down on your bed after another long day of research J.T once more proved to you that he could somehow read your mind through the many layers of internet that separated you. Coming online mere minutes after you logged in and started browsing the news bulletin. The little notification popping up on your IM window easily pulling your attention away from a case you knew Bobby had a man on as you unsuccessfully tried not to smile at the idea of spending another lazy evening chatting with your online stranger.

JustTryingItOut: Ok… I’m genuinely starting to think you’re always on here Cherry. Are you sure you’re not some old man in a basement just listening to Warrant on repeat?

You chuckled at the “concern” that you had both thrown back and forth at each other time and time again. Hell, it had almost become your standard greeting, slipping from the fingers of whomever logged in last as easily as the more common “Hi” did for others. A smile easily formed on your lips as you typed your reply.

Keep reading

Busqué para tú (I searched for you)

“Calvin?” You asked from under the 7,000 blankets you were under.
No reply.
But then again, you were so sick you could barely talk, and when you did, a sandpapery sound was what you sounded like.
You say up, and immediately you felt yourself go lightheaded for a second, the you felt normal, well as normal as you could be at this time.
You looked around the dark room and sighed. You couldn’t see much, and your vision was kind of blurry.
You felt a sudden burst of cold flow within you, and your whole being felt like ice.
“Cal?” You called weakly again.
But again, nothing. He couldn’t hear your sickly soft voice from where he was in the other room, editing a video.
You sighed and shifted so that your legs were on the floor but you still sat on the bed.
You then stood up, and a felt a rush in your head, and you were dizzy for a minute.
When you adjusted to this new position, you started to walk very slowly to the door of the room.
You were shaking badly by the time you reached the door, and it only became worse as you staggered, most likely looking drunk, down to Cal’s editing and recording room.
The door was closed, and you reached out your arm to open it, but you were shaking so badly it took a minute to actually close your hand around it turn the knob.
You opened the door slowly, and saw Cal sitting on his chair, editing a video. He had his headphones on and you could hear bits and pieces of the music.
You walked over to him slowly and put a hand on his shoulder.
He took off his headset and smiled at you, but he then frowned.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked.
“I’m…cold.” You answered in the less shaky voice you could muster.
“You are now? I’m not surprised, it’s cold in here,” he laughed, though you could see the worry in his eyes.
“I feel like ice,” you said.
He knew you were sick, and it didn’t surprise him. You always were needy when you were sick.
“Want me to come lay with you?” He asked quietly.
You nodded, and he stood, put an arm around your back, and walked you slowly back to your shared bedroom.
You laid back down in the bed and he got in next to you, cuddling you from behind.
He shifted and pulled all the blankets back on the both of you.
You snuggled closer to his warm body, and he rubbed your back slowly, and mumbled sweet nothings to you.
You fell asleep in minutes.
Calvin slowly pulled his phone from his back pocket, and pulled up Twitter.

‘No video tonight. Gf is sick and she needs me right now,’ he tweeted, and the support came instantly, and he smiled.
He actually looked at the clock, and it read 3:30am. It was kind of late. He wasn’t tired, so he opened up snapchat and starred to open uo messages from fans, and they were all cute little, 'Your the best!’ Or 'Hissss,’ like they usually were.
Cal took a picture of the dark room and captioned it, 'My girlfriend is sick and she got up to come get me because she was cold. But you still gotta love her :)’
He put the picture on his story and closed the app.
It was about 4:15 now, and he felt you shift, and he feared he woke you somehow.
But your eyes stayed shut and you sighed in you sleep.
He laughed silently and opened Twitter back up.
His tweet had gotten so many 'get well’ replies and he smiled, glad the fanbase loved you as much as he did.
You sighed in your sleep again, and cuddled yourself subconsciously closer to him, but then something peculiar happened.
Your started to talk, but not in English, in Spanish. Cal laughed quietly and opened up his camera and recorded what you were saying.
“¿Calvin? ¿Calvin? ¿Dónde estás amor? No puedo verte y tengo miedo! Sé que estás ahí, así que me siento mejor. Te amo Calvin, te amo.”
You stopped talking then, and sighed.
Cal didn’t know all of what you said, so he tweeted the video and asked someone to tell him, since he didn’t know Spanish.
The first reply was a translation:
“Calvin? Clavin? Where are you love? I can’t see you and I am scared! I know you are there, and I feel better. I love you Calvin, I love you.”
Cal smiled and then saw the second reply, saying to say:
'Busqué para tú, querida. Yo también te amo.’ It means, 'I searched for you, my dear. I love you too.’
Calvin tried his best to say the words, knowing fully that he butchered them completely.
But he felt you sigh and turn in your sleep so that you faced his chest. You nuzzled you face into him and said quietly, “I love you too Calvin.”
Cal put his phone on the bedside table and cuddled with you until he fell asleep a few minutes later.

[Hope you liked this lil thing :) I’m sick right now and this is honestly what I would lovee to happen.]

The Sadie Hawkins
  • Romanogers Fluffathon (I wanted to participate, thought it was a cute idea)
  • Avengers Academy AU
  • 1401 words

So it started like a normal week. Steve woke up to his alarm at 5:30 am, threw a pillow at Sam to wake him up, and together they went to the gym. After that they got ready for class, like every morning, and headed to the main building with a cup of coffee each. Steve was stuffing things in his locker and Sam was half asleep against the wall beside him when the weirdness of the day started.

And naturally, it started with Janet.

She suddenly popped up beside Steve with a giant grin. “You’ll never guess what’s happening!” she chirped so excitedly Sam jumped awake.

“AIM attack, giant monster, nuclear bomb?” Steve wondered, sticking his arm into his locker to try and find a pen.

“No,” Janet said and produced a brightly colored poster, “There’s a Sadie Hawkins dance!”

“A what?” Sam piped up from behind Steve.

Janet huffed, as if she couldn’t believe that the boys didn’t know anything. “A Sadie Hawkins dance! It’s a dance, but the difference is that the girls ask the boys.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

May I request a small story of poly Roadrat where their s/o is in an accident and loses a limb, and they go through shock, depression and breaks down into tears as eventually all of their feelings flow out like a tsunami, knowing they'll never be the same, but are grateful to have two lovers to help them through the healing process.

Roadhog and Junkrat were serial killers. Psychopathic murderers. You guess that made you one by proxy, didn’t it?

You had never forgotten that and they had never hidden that from you. All three of you had been shaped by the horrors of the irradiated Australian Outback; murderous roving gangs, vicious mutated fauna, nuclear rainout and blinding dust storms. They had killed more men than you could count and had maimed even more; survival trumping any bullshit sense of morals the outside world would impose on those who needed to survive in the wasteland. And they had lived this way for years; the One-Man Apocalyptic Enforcer, the Explosive Anarchist and the Junkette Mechanic they had sworn to protect with their life.

You wondered if this was your punishment for becoming complacent, for trusting that things would not change in this ever changing whirlwind of the world. For thinking you were allowed to be anything more than serial killers and survivalists. You had begun to feel safe in your home, the one you all had built with your bare hands. Walls made of sheet metal welded and and riveted to make the shape of a big shanty home; simple scavenged furniture, stolen mattresses and bedrolls, a clay and stone cook stove and a hodge podge of interior decorations. That was your sanctuary, your palace, your fortress. This is where Roadhog became Mako; the strong yet loving head of your household who loved small, cute things and was fiercely protective of what was his. He could feel like himself, alive, actually happy. Jamison ran the same in and out of their protective little nest; mind full of wild ideas, excitable fascinations and adoration for anything bright, loud or explosive.

Roadhog had earned you all a wide breadth all on your own; he was the enforcer, maintaining some semblance of control in the lawless land and laying down the law when it demanded it. Dissidence was common as was guerilla warfare but none had been bold enough to attack your home until now.

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It had been a quiet night, a normal night. You assisted them with the cleaning and maintenance of their weapons, of the bike and Jamie’s arm and leg. Mako helped you butcher the wild pig Jamie had caught in one of his trap, Jamie clinging to the both of you as you seared the meat over fire. You had ate and laughed and rutted and slept, everything shockingly normal until it wasn’t.

The three of you were rocked awake by the sound of one of Jamison’s landmines going off, ones that had been laid out a kilometer away. Mako was yelling at you to leave out the back passage, your hands shaking as you assisted Jamison with putting on his silicon leg liner on as he pulled on his sleeve. Mako had already yanked on his boots and gloves, his vest sliding onto his shoulders, your eyes darting between him and Jamison.

“Go”, Mako snarled, grabbing his shotgun and a side bag of ‘ammunition’. You could hear the concern in his voice, knew that he was being forceful because he needed you to concentrate on getting to safety.

“B-b-but Ja—”, your stuttered, flinching as another explosion went off, swallowing thickly as you forced yourself to focus. Your hands moved in autopilot, helping him to pull his leg on and pulling him up.

“Hog’s right”, Jamison said as he straightened up, testing his leg as he began to grab his own gear. You could hear the tension in his voice as he gave you a crazed grin. “Can’t risk blowin’ up our girl, can I? Hurry on out so we can take care of these mangy bastards, alright luv?”

“O-okay”, you responded, stumbling over your words as you pulled your own boots on.

You weren’t a fighter, you had survived as long as you did because of cunning, traps and bartering your own safety. That is how you had ended up with Mako initially, offering him bike parts and repair work in exchange for protection and since then he had watched your back. And now you needed to listen to them so they could do their work. You scurried around your room, grabbing your backpack that was filled with your tool and a small pistol, a last resort in an emergency. You dashed from out of the bedroom, Mako and Jamie heading for the front door as you began out the back.

“Stay safe”, you called to them, the both of them glancing back and nodding before heading out the door.

You could hear Jamison’s cackle, the ground shaking as his grenades shot off. They could take care of themselves, they would be fine, you had to reassure yourself of that. Your hand groped at one of the metal sheets that appeared riveted to the wall, yanking at it until it gave way to a hole in the wall.  Your home had been built against a hill; partially for support and partially so they couldn’t be completely cornered on all sides. They had dug this safe spot out specifically for you as a safety precaution to get you away when danger came from the front, letting you have an exit out the back onto the hill. You groped blindly through the dark of the tunnel; stumbling over your own feet and tripping over small hills of dirt you couldn’t see. You couldn’t remember how many more steps you had, how much further you had to go until you reached the metal sheet on the opposite side.


You grunt, bouncing back against a wall of dirt, your hands reaching directly in front of you and groping in the dark. All you could feel was your fingers sinking into the dirt, small bits of rock and minerals getting caught under your nails. The sheet wasn’t there. It was supposed to be there. Where was it?! You could feel panic begin to rise in your system as you tried to dig for the door, only to have more dirt slide down and covered your shoes, threatening to cave in.

“No no no no”, you whimpered as you backed up, your breath catching in your throat. You scrambled backwards, falling twice on your rear before you fell from the same hole you had entered in. “Fuck…oh no…oh no.”

It looked like your home had collapsed; the roof had fallen inward and was still smoldering, the walls filled with bullet holes, posters, curtains and furniture on fire from misfired explosions. You clambered up, gulping as you looked around the home, eyes darting around as you looked for a way out, dashing towards the door. You breathed in relief as you were able to jump over the twisted pieces of metal, twisting and shaking the handle to the door. Ice filled your veins as you tried to get the door open, twisting and turning the handle to no avail. Your eyes burned as smoke began to drift further into the room, your frantic breaths making it harder and harder for you to breathe. You jumped, the sound of an explosion to the left of you sounding too close for comfort. The metal groaned under its onslaught, your heart thundering in your chest.

You needed to escape. You needed to get out.

Your shoulder slammed into the door, taking a few steps back before rushing back towards the door, a pained whimper tumbling from your lips.

“Come on”, you screamed at the door, crying out as you rushed back into the door. Pure adrenaline pumped through your veins, dulling the pain as the door began to bend at your onslaught. Your mind raced, your hands wrapping around the edge of the door as you tried to force further open. Just a bit more and maybe you could scramble out, push yourself through the hole in the door. Your entire body jumped as a piece of roof dropped to the ground behind you, blocking off any escape route, a small sob leaving your lips. “No…no no…”

You were terrified, your hands pushing even more at the door, shaking hard as the futility of the situation began to creep in. Standing on your tiptoes, you could peek outside of the door. Mako and Jamison stood on opposite sides of the small yard, only a half dozen or so men left standing, the rest dead or injured. Jamison was pushing them back, sending explosives towards their feet, the agitators lobbing explosives sloppily back at them. That is how they were destroying your home, pure unadulterated luck. And yours had just run out. One of their explosives bounced off of the door, rolling to right in front of it. Your breath caught in your throat before you began to scream.


Time felt like it slowed. Roadhog and Junkrat both turned, each of them seeing your frightened face peeking out of the crack of the front door. Then the flash of the explosion, the heat from the blast rushing over them as the front of their home caved.



Your head hurt. Your head hurt so fucking bad. A whine caught in raw throat, tears squeezing out from your clenched eyes trying to will the pain away. You couldn’t find it in you to open your eyes.

‘Need to focus on something else…need to focus.’

You were on your side. Everything was so goddamn hazy through that veil of pain in your head. It hurt to breath; your throat was raw, your lungs burned and your sides hurt.

‘Bruised ribs? Don’t know…Don’t…know. Fuck…’

Another painful throb went through your head, dropping straight into your stomach. You could feel the nausea now, it was palatable, a sickly sweetness crawling into the back of your mouth. Your stomach felt empty though, there was nothing that you could force up, no energy left to purge.

‘Gotta move…gotta get up…’

You tried to move your arms, your hands, nothing. You were cold, reserves absolutely empty. Angry curses swam through your mind, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. Useless, inept, incompetent. You were a weak link in your relationship’s chain and this was your comeuppance for not doing better, not trying harder. Still….it had gone…silent? You could hear crackling of flames, the knocking sound of metal expanding under its heat. There was no more gunfire, no more explosions.

‘No no no…please god no…’

“Jam–Jamie”, your voice croaked, your lungs hurting as you sucked in a sharp, wheezing breath. “Mak-Mako…Jamie…oy…you c-c-cunts…don’t fu-fuggin’ ignore me….please….boys…please…”

A throaty pained sob clawed through your chest. You had distracted them, you had gotten them killed. Why were you so fucking usel—


The grating, screeching sound of metal scratching against metal filled your ears, driving a knife into the center of your forehead. You forced your eyes to open, your eyes staring blearily at the twisted metal wall in front of your face. It took too much energy to turn your head, blinking leaching what little energy remained. Your vision cleared in pieces, you could see the broken beam the hung over your body, it was propping up a wall next to you. Roadhog’s gloved hands came into frame, he was pulling another piece of the twisted roof away. Your face scrunched up at the sound of the twisted metal moving again, eyes closing for half a second before wrenching back open.

“Ey luv”, Jamison said, his voice infinitely softer than it normally was. You were thankful, you didn’t know if your ears could handle the loud, excitable tone. “You stay right there possum, ‘Hog and me will get you right out, ‘kay? Oy oy, look at me, nuh uh no closin’ those pretty eyes of yours. Lookit me pet, focus on this sexy mug, alright?”

Your eyes kept trying to slip shut but Jamison’s ramblings kept coaxing them back open, an exhausted smile stretching across your lips. Your boys were okay. Banged up but okay. Mako pulled another chunk of metal away, grunting as he threw it behind him. Jamie could reach you now, his hands shaking as they reach down, stroking your cheek and petting your hair.

“Thatta girl”, Jamison hummed, his manic grin calmer. Where those tears in his eyes? You wish you could will your arms to wrap around him, but at least his hands felt so goddamn good against your chilled skin. He dipped down and placed several loving kisses against your forehead. “We’re gonna get ya outta there and you’ll be right as rain. Well… right as rain in the bush can get y’know? Just a lil bit more, a lil bit more darl.”

Up. You wanted to ask him to pick you up but you couldn’t form words anymore, your eyes unbelievably heavy. Maybe he had pulled something in his arm, maybe they had to make sure nothing would fall on ya. Yeah, that made sense. Mako’s grunts were closer now, his movements coming into your peripheral vision. He was moving so frantically. What was wrong? You shivered hard. It was cold. Jamie’s hands weren’t helping anymore now, your teeth wanted to chatter but they couldn’t, no strength in your jaw. You were so tired. They were okay, you could sleep right?

“Sweetie? Oy, open ya eyes sweetie. O-open your eyes, darl! ‘Hog! Wh-what should I do?!”

Jamison shook you a little, the string of fear yanking higher and higher in his tone as he screamed at Mako. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you just needed to rest. Why was he so upset about that? You felt his hands get yanked away from your face, Jamison’s hands replaced by Mako’s. His large hands slipped underneath your head, gingerly lifting your head from the floor and holding it there. You could feel Mako moving and shifting around, your nose scrunching up as you felt something surround your face. Mako’s gas mask?

“Sorry sorry”, Jamie spat out, you could feel him fixing the straps, tightening it around your face and accidentally yanking your hair with it. “‘Hog’s gonna fix you right up, right mate?”

He sounded scared but there were still those underlying layers of trust, Mako grunting back at him affirmatively. You could barely hear the two of them as they spoke, the gas mask recycling and amplifying the sound of your breathing back to you. You listened languidly, picking up bits and pieces of conversation between the both of them.

“We have to free it…gimme the….”

“Fuck….fuck…what d’I do now?”

“Belt it above the knee…..pull it tighter….good….hold her hand.”

Mako’s thumb gently stroked your head, you could feel Jamie take your hand and squeeze it between his own. Everything else was just…cold, your mind floating too far to really worry about that. You could hear the opening of a container, Mako’s voice suddenly right next to your ear..

“Take a deep breath.”

A hissing filled your ears as something pressed into the mask, taking a deep, shuddering breath as the acrid scent of chemicals filled the mask. You immediately regretted listening. It felt like every single nerve in your body was suddenly on fire, your eyes flying open as you began to scream in pain. Both of them held you still as it felt like every single fiber of your being tried to pull itself back together; stitching together cracked ribs and fractured humerus, healing your throat and lungs while purging the chemicals that stuck to the tissue. You were pleading, begging, imploring them to make it stop when Mako pulled the canister away from the mask.

“It hurts”, you whimpered, tears pouring from your eyes and getting caught behind the rubber that sealed it to your face. Every time you tried to wrench your hand away to claw the mask off, they squeezed you tighter. “Make it stop..please make it stop…it hurts so much it hurts…please pl—”

You felt all of the air get punched out of your chest, losing all ability to talk as the reparative chemicals reached your lower body. It felt as if someone had stabbed you with red-hot knife, the searing heat cutting all the way around your right calf. Your words and screaming and begging became incoherent, shaking like a leaf as your body tried to fix something that didn’t want to be fixed. Your head lulled back as you completely lost consciousness.

You came to in the sidecar, to the sound of Jamison and Mako yelling back and forth at one another over the sound of the motorcycle. When did you get onto the bike? Jamison shook as he held you, his hands dancing over your body; touching your hair and face and shoulders and neck. Your eyes peeled open, your head tucked into the right side of his neck. You could see the starry sky of the Outback fly by, Mako’s eyes focused in front of him.

“She still ain’t movin’!”

“She’s breathing! She’s fine!”

“‘Hog, I don’t thin–”

“Stop”, you whimpered weakly, trying to sit yourself all the way up. “Stop…arguing..where…where are we?”

“Almost to the safe house”, Mako answered simply, tone clipped as he revved the engine and pushed the motorcycle harder.

A twinge of memories from earlier that evening returned; working on the bike, eating dinner, sleep. After that, it was pure mush. You could tell something was wrong though, the tone and body language of the two Junker’s giving that away. You shifted in Jamison’s lap, his arms tightening around you.

“Ey now”, he warned softly, gingerly readjusting you so your left leg fell snuggly against his in the sidecar. “Don’t move…Just relax now luv, ‘kay?”

“What’s wrong?”

Neither one of them answered, Jamison’s arms squeezing even tighter, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. You could see the tension in Mako’s shoulders, the solid muscles in his arms twitching as he tried to stay calm. Your eyes darted between the side of Mako’s body and Jamie’s arms around your middle, shaking your head hard.

“No”, you answered, pushing hard against your lover as you looked up at his face before turning to look at Mako for answers. “Tell me. No secrets. We promised no secrets.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Mako’s voice was tight, strained yet controlled. Your brow furrowed as you tried to recall the night, wincing as a your head gave an admonishing stab of pain.

“Going to bed”, you answered confused, shaking your head slightly. “Th-that’s it…why are we out here?”

“Got ambushed darl”, Jamison murmured as he kissed the back of your head repeatedly. “We took care of them, killed the whackers….”

“I don’t remember that”, you muttered, your brow furrowed in confusion, pressing your hand against your forehead as you tried to will yourself to remember. “I-if they’re dead…why are…why are we out here?”

“Kaboom”, Jamison muttered listlessly, the fingers on his left hand fluttering. “Blew us up good, brought the….brought the whole house down…”

“On top of you”, Mako finished, you saw him swallow thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It looked like it pained him to continue. “It crushed your leg.”

“My leg”, you questioned incredulously, shaking your head slowly. “No, my legs feel fine…they’re fine.”

You kicked your legs, your left foot knocking against the side of the sidecar and back against Jamie’s leg. You tried kicking your right leg but it felt like the limb had fallen asleep, a heavy tingling sensation running from your toes to your hip. Your hand dropped to your hip as you squeezed, a ball of apprehension twisting in your stomach as you refused to look down. Tension grew as more and more butterflies began to flutter in your belly, your fingers sliding past your denim shorts and touching skin. You inhaled sharply as your hands reached your knee, thick cloth wrapped tight against your skin, your fingers flinching before groping forward and feeling nothing but air. A broken sob spilled from your lips, as you finally looked down and saw that from the knee down your leg was gone.

“Oh god”, you sobbed, your hand pawing at the covered stump until Jamison pulled your hand away, wrapping you tight in his arms. “No…no no….Oh god.”

You really were the weakest link this relationship. You couldn’t fight like they could, you couldn’t kill like they could. You had skills that any resourceful Junker could learn, there was absolutely nothing special about you. And now…with this you could do nothing but slow them down. The time it would take to heal and get a prosthetic and learn to walk on that prosthetic…you were dead weight. What little you had to offer…Your eyes frantically jumped to Jamie’s face and then Mako’s, tears spilling down your face.

“I’m so sorry”, you whimpered your apology, your fingers pressing hard against the skin of your cheek. “I…I am so sorry… I can’t…I…”

Stuttered, incomplete words tumbled from your lips, painful hiccuping weeping you suddenly unable to pull air into your lungs. Jamison shushed you, stroking your face and kissing the top of your head and side of your face. The bike slowed to a halt, you could feel the bike shift as Mako took a knee in front of the sidecar, pulling you into his arms.

“We’re going to fix you up”, he stated matter-of-factly, his hand holding your chin still, making you look into his eyes. “You are ours. We are not going to leave you behind. We love you, got it?”

“You’re stuck with us lovey”, Jamison answered back, rubbing hard at his own face before reaching out and stroking your hair. “We’re matchin’ now, can’t get rid offa matchin’ pair now can ya? We love ya, you little minx. Gotta teach ya the ole Junkrat swagger now.”

You couldn’t say with confidence that you were worth it, but they were going to stay by your side. They weren’t going to leave you, not yet. If you could hold onto that…maybe you could have some hope.

witchlog  asked:

Based on the most recent gtav video, how about an au where the fake ah crew has to move on after jack and Geoff die on a mission, so now Vagabond is the reluctant leader of Ramsey's lads who've always looked to the Gents for leadership.

And Ryan has always been Geoffs attack dog, never a leader, so he has extreme difficulty reigning in Gavin Michael and Jeremy, who are all trying to figure out how they function as a group without its leaders. Ryan has to now figure out how to /be/ a leader, so what type of leadership will actually speak to the lads in a way that they’d even listen to?

(Alternate ‘everything is terrible forever’ option here)

They’d thought they were dead. There was a moment there where they’d really thought it was over, thought Geoff and Jack had gone out together, gutting the crew in one fell swoop. The job had been sideways from the start, too rushed, too many loose ends, a disaster was almost inevitable. They’re just lucky it wasn’t worse, lucky it wasn’t as bad as it looks, so when Geoff and Jack are stable the Fake AH Crew hold an intervention. Bully their bosses out of the city, tell them they aren’t welcome back until they’ve had a proper holiday, free form any stress or danger. Neither Geoff nor Jack are particularly keen on the idea but the rest of the crew are entirely too proud of themselves.

At least until the moment Ryan realises that he’s meant to step up and be the responsible portion of the inner crew in their absence which, no, thank you. No. Absolutely not. There’s been a mistake. It’s not that Ryan can’t be a leader – the Vagabond was incredibly successful all on his own, and he did his time bossing about various guns-for-hire – it’s just that he knows exactly how undesirable the job really is.

There are some who think Ramsey has it made, dream of taking his role as king of the city’s ruling crew, but Ryan doesn’t truly envy his position for a second. The Lads are barely controllable on a good day and unless he’s the victim of one of their stupider pranks Ryan’s honestly never been interested in trying. Is often barely more than an honorary Lad himself, egging them on and grinning into his mask as Geoff tears at his own hair in frustration. So perhaps this is karma. Perhaps this is why Geoff took one look back at them on his way to board the plane and could only laugh and laugh. Because this? This is Ryan’s hell.

The Lads have always looked up to the Gents, and of course that extends to Ryan as much as Geoff or Jack but that fond admiration means nothing now. Normally the Lads respect Ryan just fine – the whole crew’s pretty friendly and Ryan’s more than earned his place, the push and shove between them is all camaraderie and good times, but that was before Ryan was declared boss. Before he was given a role they all relish in torturing Geoff over, before he became The Man. The one to rail against, to undermine, to cast as the villain any time common sense must prevail over idiocy. There’s no chance in hell they’re just going to sit back and make it easy.

Ryan tries to just be himself with more authority and they spend the week mimicking him like deranged parrots. He tried to yell them into submission and they simply shout back at him completely uncowed; between Geoff and Michael they’re all so desensitised to yelling it barely registers. He turns to dog training manuals and almost wins them over with various treats rewarding good behaviour, until the Lads remember that they are, in fact, grown men who can source their own treats. Ryan even tries, as a last resort, bringing out the menace of the Vagabond in an attempt to rattle the little bastards but barely makes it through the first sentence of his carefully worded speech before they’re howling with laughter.

The support crew do absolutely nothing to help. Well, no. They continue to be the consummate professionals keeping this whole ridiculous operation afloat, thank you very much, but when it comes to Ryan’s misery they’ve got nothing to offer. All vague hums of sympathy when he comes around to complain as though they’re not treating this shit like the best kind of reality tv. Full of commiseration and free advice like they they don’t all have money riding on every possible outcome of this farce.

In the end Ryan just gets on the Lads level and plays dirty; retaliates to every prank with something far worse, refuses to engage when they try to wind him up for their amusement and stops trying to emulate the way Geoff leads. When they become too much he hurls pointed looks of complete disappointment at Jeremy, sends Michael on endless tedious milk runs and flat out sits on Gavin for almost two hours until he gives in. Ryan comes up with jobs that are so odd and entertaining the Lads can’t bring themselves to miss out on, and maybe their laughter at the oddity of Ryan as their boss never really fades away but it simmers down to amused looks and shared grins and fuck, so long as they’re listening it’s close enough.

Ryan’s term as leader is a pretty equal spread of calm, careful planning for hilariously extravagant jobs and bouts of unmitigated despair full of creative insults and disturbing threats; I don’t care how pretty it is Gavin, if you don’t put it back where you found it i’ll shove it down your throat; Try it again you purple-haired little goblin I dare you; Michael if this place is burning when I get back I will fill your Adder with everything you love and drive it out to sea. It is, without a doubt, the longest three months of Ryan’s life, bar absolutely nothing. There are moments he enjoys, sure, but the second Geoff and Jack return Ryan goes on a killing spree, wreaks havoc in a bank and carefully promises the Lads that whatever duty was placed on him not to strangle his charges for intolerable impudence has been well and truly lifted.


On Sunday, his birthday, John went out hunting and got his first deer ever. He crept up to it, wind in his favor, and landed a shot with his compound bow at about 4pm. He almost fainted from adrenaline. He managed to call me and I sprinted up the normally hour long hike to the area in under 40 minutes.
We tracked it into a huge field of neck-high weeds and lost the trail. By then it was completely dark and frost was forming everywhere. The search carried on for another two hours with no trace. It was almost 8pm and we were exhausted. We almost gave up the search for the night when we stumbled into a small clearing 120 yards from where we were looking. The deer was laying there dead but peacefully.

It was beautiful, sad, and relieving all at once. We were glad he went quickly and found a comfy place to do so. We thanked him for his body and brought him all the way back home. He weighed in at around 130 pounds, a pretty big boy. We kept his skin, buried his head to dig up in the spring time, and butchered him ourselves the next morning. Our dogs will be having venison mixed into their foods the next couple weeks and we will also get to eat for a long time to come. Some of the meat already went to friends and about 14 pounds went to the butcher to make jerky and sausage. We kept most organs and I took enough fat to make some candles. Whatever was left went back to the earth for the coyotes and birds to pick from.

The last photo is not just most of the deer meat, but also a whole wild rabbit who was hit by a car (legs were mutilated, he had to be put down asap), and a piece of moose and elk from work. I am so thankful to these creatures and to feel so close to the ebb and flow of nature. I think most creatures have a very good concept of predator and prey, and while they do not want to die they understand as a prey animal that death is a constant. I don’t really know how to express it correctly, but I tried!

Waltzing with a Dinosaur (Delimoo)

This is my first attempt at a romantic pairing, so please have mercy on me if it ends up being terrible. I tried my best ;-;  

(This story is inspired by the recent Gang Beasts video created by Daithi de Nogla, BasicallyIDoWrk, H2ODelirious, and Moo Snuckel.)

Words: 3,199


It was fairly common knowledge to everyone that Delirious couldn’t dance. Despite being a year shy of thirty, Jonathan had never taken dance lessons even in his youth and had two left feet, capable of butchering any piece of choreography one dared to throw at him within moments. He tried, there was no doubt about that, but finding the beat was something he had always struggled with. It was even the reason why he gave up playing the drums in band during middle school and switched to piano, where hardly any footwork was required.

Yet Delirious never let that stop him, and took great pride in his expertise in random arm motions and hip swaying whenever his favorite tune came on. It was only when he was forced to learn an organized dance number that Jonathan let his insecurities rise, choosing to back out and save himself the embarrassment when he would inevitably trip and fall while everyone else completed their perfect spins, tapping their shoes in melodious harmony. He envied Luke’s natural talent for dancing and only felt comfortable learning when he had his childhood friend as his tutor. That way if he failed, only his best friend would be the one laughing at him and not a crowd of people that he didn’t even know.

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anonymous asked:

so you do prompts riiight? well could you do just something like Bart and Jaime hanging out and one of them kisses the other and they decide they like it so they do it again and later they become boyfriends and it's all cute and fluffy? (:

Yasssss, I do take prompts ;3 and thanks for the request!! I tried making it fluffy but really Jaime’s just plain awkward…  

Jaime smiled reflexively as Bart staggered into the room, his arms laden with an assortment of chip bags and drinks. 

“You sure that’ll be enough food, hermano?” Jaime asked teasingly.

Bart set the food down haphazardly on the coffee table and heaved a long, dramatic sigh. After taking a seat on the couch beside Jaime, the Caucasian teen observed the snacks he’d scavenged from the Watchtower.

"No,” he said somberly, “but it was all I could find.”

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It’ll Be Fun

People, I’ve been so preoccupied with the wonderful Check, Please fandom, writing CP fics, and general American politics-based depression (GOD!) that I completely forgot it was the one year anniversary of the first real Hannigram fic that I wrote.  This was written on January 18, 2016 and it was my first long-ish fic.  My writing for Hannigram was so new, it wasn’t even posted on this Tumblr– it was only on AO3.  So, to remember nice things (instead of the impending dumpster fire that is today) here is my first Hannibal fic.  Forgive the voices, it was totally a Hannigram newbie work, but here is my eldest child.

Summary: “Help me fix this boat engine,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he said…
Hannibal gets roped into helping Will repair a boat engine, all in the name of coupledom. For @devereauxsdisease  This entire thing was inspired by one photo. This photo:

“Supporting your mate with their hobbies is what most couples do, you know.”

“We are not like most couples, Will.”

“How many times have I gone to the opera with you?” Will asked with an eyebrow raised.

Hannibal sat at the edge of their bed, pretending to try to count on one hand.

“That damn Wagner one was five hours long, Hannibal. FIVE HOURS.”

Hannibal was about to respond something along of the lines of how Will had seemed to actually enjoy it but seeing him look so divine in their bed, the covers pulled up to his waist, shirtless, holding a cup of coffee, hair adorably mussed, he knew he’d have to give in and not challenge him on this.

“I’m not asking you to eat a fast food hamburger, for Christ’s sake. I’m just asking you to come and spend time with me in the garage. I have this old motor I picked up last week, and I’m excited about working on it. We need to do more things together–”

Hannibal opened his mouth to speak and instantly Will jumped in, “And sex doesn’t count.”

Hannibal closed his mouth and slightly pursed his lips.

Will added, “I mean, that’s not what I mean. Of course it counts, it counts. I love it. You know I love being with you, but I just feel we should do more things that don’t involve sex or food or murder – or all of your things.”

Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed looking at Will, looking at him.

“It’ll be fun.” Will parted his lips and bit his bottom one, looking at Hannibal while slightly tilting his head, sweetly holding his coffee mug closer to his face. Victory was his, he could tell.

“I suppose I could assist you. It could be very educational…I am sure you are well aware that I do not have any clothes appropriate to work in.”

Will smirked and said, “Too bad the murder suit is out of commission. You can wear some of my old clothes. They might be snug but I certainly won’t complain.”

Hannibal’s lips quirked slightly as he leaned over to take Will’s mug for a sip of his coffee.

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Teddy Bear- Luke

Teddy Bear- Luke

“Stitched you up, put you together, with cotton and feather, gave you love, put my heart inside you, Oh what could I do”

You had met Luke biking home from your daily shift at the local coffee shop. You were on the bridge, biking near the side of the edge in the bike lane. You were about halfway across the bridge when you saw him standing on the ledge of the bridge looking at the ocean. You stopped abruptly and pulled to the side, hopping off your bike.

“What are you doing?” You called out.

Luke turned to you, and you could see tears in his eyes.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Well I can’t exactly leave someone who’s standing on the edge of a bridge crying can I?” You replied, walking closer to where he was.

He stared at your as you got closer, his deep blue eyes holding direct eye contact with yours. You walked up until you were leaning against the barrier that stood between the ledge Luke was standing on and the side of the bike lane you were in. Luke bit his lip nervously and looked away, turning towards the ocean that lay below him.

“I’m just a stupid 18 year old boy, what’s it matter if I jumped anyways?”

The way Luke said the question it seemed like he was saying to himself rather than to you.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t matter if a stupid 18 year old girl joined him then.” You concluded, reaching to swing your leg over to join him on the ledge.

Luke turned around panic, his blue eyes meeting yours in a frenzy of fear.

“Yes it would matter, don’t you dare come onto this ledge,” Luke’s force was stern, and a lot deeper when he was being loud.

You froze, retracting from the ledge.

“Well same goes for you Mr. get your ass off that ledge and let’s talk.”

Luke sighed and climbed back over, so he was standing next to you. He was surprisingly very tall, his lanky frame towering over you. You stood for a minute, just staring at the tall, attractive, human in front of you. Why would someone with his stunning looks be moments away from ending his own life? You reached out and took Luke’s hand. His hand was stiff at first, but it relaxed as you guided him off the bridge and onto the sidewalk. You walked hand in hand with him, like you were old friends.

“Where are we walking to?” Luke asked slowly, confused.

“The park that’s near here, so we can talk.” You answered calmly before continuing to guide him.

You walked until you reached the park, children and dogs running around anywhere. You took look to a bench and you both sat down, facing the sun.

“My name is Y/n btw,” You said watching the kids running around.

“I’m Luke,” He responded as he stared down at his hands.

“Luke…why were you standing at the edge of the bridge?” You asked.

Luke’s eyes looked pained as he looked up at you. He only held eye contact for a second before her turned and watched as a group of teenagers skated by on skateboards. His gaze hardened on them as they skated by, his jaw clenching.

“Let’s just say a certain three people broke me to the point beyond fixing.” Luke said through his teeth, still staring at the boys.

You look towards where he was staring, and saw three boys. One had blue hair that was pushed to the side in a fringe. The other had longer dirty blond hair, and the last boy was tan to the point where he was practically brown and had eyes that squinted slightly at the ends. You were about to ask further questions when the boys noticed you and Luke standing there, and decided to walk over.

Luke looked at you, a mix of panic and anger in his eyes. You got up with Luke to leave, but the boys had already  caught up and stood over your spot on the bench.

“Luke, didn’t think I’d see you anywhere near here this soon,” The tan one sneered, leaning into his face.

Luke looked down, ignoring their gazes. It was like he was trying to disappear.

“Ooh gonna ignore us huh Luke? Trying to keep that flaming anger down so you don’t pull a knife on us like you did last time? You remember what we said right? Get out of town and we won’t call the police on your lame ass,” The blued haired kid was talking now, and you noticed the hint of fear in his eyes as Luke clenched his fists.

Instively you reached over and touched his arm. For some reason he relaxed under his touch and finally decided to look up.

“Whatever, I was just trying to have a conversation with Y/n, but I’ll just leave,” and with that Luke got up and starting running away.

You panicked and tried to get up to go after him, but the three other boys held you back.

“Look, Y/n or whoever you are, you need to let him go. He’s bad news,” The blond one held you back, but you didn’t care for what he had to say.

You tried to push past him, but this time he held you firmer, not letting you god. You tried to get out of his grasp, but the tan boy grabbed you too, his nails accidentally scraping against your arm. You cried out in pain, which made Luke’s head turn. He saw you struggling against them, and the blood on your arm and he snapped.

“CALUM MICHAEL GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER,” He yelled, sprinting back to where we were standing.

“We warned you,” the boy called Calum said, before quickly sprinting away from Luke with the rest of the boys.

Luke ran up to you, his chest puffed out and his eyes glaring.

“Are you okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yeah, the Calum guy just scratched me,” You held up your arm and saw that there was a shallow cut on your arm that was bleeding. You winced slightly at the sight of blood. “I’m also sort of scared of blood but I mean it’ll be fine.”

You smiled timidly as Luke grabbed your arm inspecting it.

“Yeah you should be fine, do you want me to walk you home though just in case they come back?” He asked.

You nodded before adding, “I mean you’re going to have to tell me the story of about you a pulled a knife on them though.”

Luke’s face hardened in seriousness but he nodded. You started walking towards your house, Luke next to you.

“So I guess before it happened we were friends,” Luke started, staring ahead as he talked. “We had this little band, where I sang, the guy with blue hair, Michael, he played guitar, Calum played bass, and the other boy, Ashton, he played drums. We had been doing it for a while actually, before the incident. Well I sort of have this thing where.. I..Um.. get really angry I guess? I freak out and lash out at people when I don’t mean to. It was just a normal band practice, when the boys just wouldn’t stop commenting on my stupid lanky legs. It was always something like, Oh Luke you look like a breadstick, or oh Luke you’ll never get laid if your legs are skinnier than all the girls on the planet. It really pissed me off, and they just wouldn’t stop. I guess I just carried away, and I pulled my pocket knife out on them.”

“Define pocket knife,” You said, gesturing for him to take it out of his pocket.

Luke didn’t move at first, but then he slowly opened his jacket pocket, and grabbed a medium sized butcher knife. You gulped silently, realizing the potential danger of the situation. You were with a guy with anger issues and a big ass knife. You swallowed your fears though and kept walking.

“Well, at least I know we aren’t going to get mugged on this walk to my house,” You smiled a Luke, who smiled for the first time since you met him.

For the rest of the walk home you made small talk about anything and everything. You decided against asking him about the bridge again, since you had already pried into his personal life. You reached your house and Luke walked your to your door, stopping at your doorstep.

“Why don’t you come in for a while,” You said, grabbing his arm.

Luke didn’t stop you when you pulled him inside your house, with the intentions of spending the afternoon teaching him how to bake. After this Luke visited you frequently, and sometimes you guys did other things than baking. Eventually you guys started dating, and you learned more than you thought about him. You learned that he had a soft spot for penguins, and that he was incredibly insecure despite being unbelievably attractive. You also noticed that after a while of you guys being together, he was progressively becoming more happy. He smiled often, and laughed like everything was the funniest joke. You had stitched his broken pieces back together, until you thought he resembled a completely different Luke you had never seen before.

“When you started talking in your sleep, Saying things you’d do to me, I didn’t care, I wasn’t scared”

Luke had been living with you for about half a year, when things starting taking a turn for the worst. Luke still carried the knife with him at all times, but you had gotten used to it. But one time you had gotten in bed with him after work to see that he was holding the knife in his hand, the blade hidden under the seats. You slept on the couch that night.

The next night the knife was gone, and you pretended it didn’t happen. You fell asleep with Luke’s arms around you, his warmth surrounding you. It wasn’t until 3am when you woke up to him whispering, when you realized tonight was also going to not go as well.

You stayed still listening as Luke whispered.

“I’ll get you Y/n. I’ll push my knife into your chest until it comes out the other end. I’ll tear you apart limb by limb, until you’re just a bloody corpse on this bed. I’ll, i’ll kill you.”

Luke squeezed you tightly and you yelped in surprise, wriggly to get out of his grasp.

“Babe what’s wrong?” Luke asked, waking up.

“You, you…” You were shaking, and stood up off the bed, away from where Luke was still lying.

“What, is everything okay?’ He asked concern written all over his face.

“You said you were going to kill me in your sleep!” You exclaimed, shaking.

Luke’s face clouded over for a second, before he just frowned.

“I was asleep though,” He said, sitting up.

“You said it in your sleep then. And I saw you sleeping with a knife last night! Is everything okay?” You were more concerned for Luke than you were for yourself. You were just scared his anger issues were getting out of hand.

Luke’s face hardened, “Of course I’m fine.”

He dropped the conversation and turned over. You stood frozen next to the bed, and watched as Luke fell back asleep.

That night you slept on the couch.

“Teddy bear, you were my teddy bear, you were comforting and quiet, how did love become so violent?”

Since those two nights, this became rocky between you and Luke. Most nights you ended up on the couch, Luke sulking in the bed you two used to share. Small disagreements became big fights that involved throwing plates and glasses at each other. You felt like everyday was a stretch to stay together, and everyday was a struggle. You barely got through everyday, and everyday you fell asleep on the lumpy couch wondering if this is what love really was. A couple months ago Luke was your best friend, your cuddle buddy, your teddy bear. But now you weren’t even sure if you could call him your boyfriend without having doubts. When had things turned so bad? What had changed. You found yourself lying awake thinking about this on a particularly rough night. You could hear Luke cussing and punching the wall in the bedroom.

You wanted to be able to go to him, to tell him it was okay. But you couldn’t calm him down anymore. His anger was uncontrollable, like a tornado of hurtful words and heavy objects.

“God, how did love become so violent?” You said into the dark room.

You heard the sound of a crash, but you only closed your eyes trying to block out the sounds.

“I threw you out, I didn’t outgrow you, I just didn’t know you”

You woke up to find that Luke had already left for work. He had found a small record company, and he was working on becoming a solo artist. You sighed and stretched looking around the room. Your eyes widened as you realized everything was completely trashed. The furniture besides the couch was thrown about everywhere, and there were dents in the walls. All the pictures of you and Luke were smashed onto the ground, glass littering the floor.

You cautiously walked around the rest of the house, which was equally as destroyed. You sighed angrily, realizing you had enough. You were done with Luke lashing out at you for stupid things. You were sick of him calling you things like “worthless” and “stupid”. You were just done.

You walked into the bedroom Luke and slept in and pulled out a suitcase. Mindlessly you threw his clothes into it emptying out all the drawers he used. You packed up the rest of the stuff, until all that was left was a small box he kept on the dresser. Your hand wavered over the box, and you debated whether you should open it or just pack it.

You were inches away from opening the box when you heard a confused voice from behind you.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

You whipped around to see Luke standing there, a confused and hurt expression on his face.

“I,I” You started but Luke cut you off.

“Are you kicking me out?” He asked, anger suddenly appearing in his eyes.

“Look. We obviously aren’t working out Luke. How many god damn glass plates do you have to break before you realize that?”

Luke sighed and ran his hand through his messy blond hair.

“Luke please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” You said sympathetically.

“Whatever Y/n, if your done I’m done. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll get out of your life,” Luke caved, the anger deflating from him.

He kept his head down as he packed the box and checked for anything else.

“Wow you sure are good at packing,” Luke chuckled dryly as he was met with his empty drawers.

You smiled timidly, watching as Luke grabbed his stuff. Luke walked over to you, as if he was going to kiss you like he used to do before he went to work. Luke stopped adruptly remembering the situation and stuck his hand out awkwardly. You shook is slowly, before Luke started walking away.

“Goodbye Y/n, we are officially broken up. Have a nice life!”

And with those last words Luke marched right out of your house and into his new car. You watched from the window as the black car drove away, becoming only a spot in the distance.

You sighed as a feeling of pain settled in your chest. It was your fault, you thought to yourself. You didn’t know the Luke that had just left. You know who he used to be. But you couldn’t shake the weird feeling that something was still wrong.

“But now you’re back, and it’s so terrifying how you paralyze me. Now you’re showing up inside my home, breathing deep into the phone. I’m so unprepared, I’m fucking scared”

It had been a month since you and Luke had broken up. Your life had become what it was before you guys met. Going to work and coming home. It was just another weekday night, when your phone started ringing. The caller ID was an unknown number, but you picked up anyway.

“Hello?” You said into the receiver.

“Hello Y/n” A familiar voice spoke into the receiver.

Your face paled as you realized who it was.


“I believe that’s my name,” He said, the hint of a smirk in his voice.

“What do you want?” You asked, annoyed that he had called.

“Oh Y/n, what do I want? Well a month ago, I wanted your love. I wanted a chance. I wanted to feel accepted,” Luke ranted on, his voice edgier and more haunting than you remembered. “But you see, I didn’t get what I wanted did I?”

“No?” You spoke slowly, confused at the conversation you were having.

“Exactly, so now Y/n…my sweet babycakes, I’ve come back. I came back to claim what was mine.”

“Luke I gave you all your stuff,” You stated, even more confused than before.

“No Y/n, I’ve come back to claim you.”

Then the line went dead, and almost a few seconds later a window smashed from the bedroom. You jumped and ran towards your front door and down the steps. You were at your car, when you realized something.

You had left your keys in the house.

“Teddy bear, you were my teddy bear, everything was so sweet until you tried to kill me”

The front door opened to reveal Luke with his medium knife in his hands. The knife was already stained with blood, and it dripped down the knife. You immediately starting sprinting down the street, your small legs flying across the pavement. Luke took off after you, his knife held out in front of him. Tears welled in your eyes as Luke caught up to you, his long legs moving much faster than your smaller ones.

You felt large hands wrap around you waist and you were yanked back, the cold metal of the knife behind placed to your neck. You froze in place as Luke hovered over you, his loud heavy breathing hitting your exposed neck.

“Oh baby girl,” Luke chuckled, his grip tight.

“Looks like you’ve been claimed.”

[Fic] Je Ne Regrette Rien

The title hardly feels original, but oh, well. orz

Title: Je Ne Regrette Rien
Pairing: Jikook
Genre: Fluffy like Jimin’s cheeks; and I guess humor, too.
Word Count: 1491
Summary: Jimin’s parents are apparently the cool kind that let Jungkook test his drinking tolerance at the table.
Note: Just a quick little thing written for the awesome and talented @koookie to thank her for scenario-ing with me and encouraging me to write this out. :3

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Say, What?

Title: Say, What?

Pairing: Cas x Reader, mentions of Sabriel, platonic Gabriel x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2,212

A/N: Some Cas lovin because he’s been mysteriously absent lately, and I’m procrastinating on my Destiel fic. Oops

 abaddonwithyall some Cas feels for ya! 

but-deans-back-tho  thought you might like some Cas, heh. 

Credits to baekhyunsalilshit for helping me phrase this little plot bunny into an imagine.

Imagine Gabriel teaching you an Enochian phrase and you show Castiel, not knowing it’s true meaning.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks and you still couldn’t get it right.

“Damned it all to hell,” you cursed angrily, trying out the strange words on your tongue once again.

Gabriel popped into your room, lips wrapped around a lollipop and an eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“How’s progress short stuff?” he asked, grinning wickedly when you scowled at the nickname.

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Everybody Loves a Clown - Part 2

Word Count: 2873

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader like…so soon you could reach out and touch it. 

Warnings: CLOWNS- FUCK CLOWNS, Language (obviously)

Tagging: @letsgetoutalive@aprofoundbondwithdean@spnfanficpond@pb-5minutefanfiction@faith-in-dean@blacktithe7@supernotnatural2005@paolathedragonichuntress@nothingeverdies@thegirlwiththeimpala@queen-of-the-unbroken-hearts@abaddonewithya@deans-cherry-pie1@lilyoflothlorien@holywaterbucketchallenge@nanie5@fandommaniacx@dreamer-lover-laughter@a-girl-who-loves-disney@jodyri@novaevelenekim@carrielc32@starlingfalls@whatdoesntbreakyoumakesyou2k12@jotink78 @klizbeth
@sharenaloveyoux @k20wn @winchesterwhisper @plaidandwhiskeydean @clariedelalune@thing-you-do-with-that-thing@highonackles

Series Rewrite Masterlist

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean asked rolling his eyes. Sam was sitting with the research open in his lap and you were rewrapping your ribs.

“Yeah.” You said. “He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces actually.”

“And this family was at some carnival that night?”

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Pain’s Pleasure

Part 3/3 of the cheating scenarios requested for the maknae line!

Member: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Angst/Mature?

Word Count: 1231

The cheating series is finally complete! yay! And i’m sorry idk how this came to life, but somehow it did. i hope you enjoy.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Kim Taehyung, the name that everyone knew,  the name that sent shivers to your spine, the name of the man that owned your heart. You’d give everything for him, you’d be… anyone for him, accept anything, do anything, because he was the love of your life, and you were positive of that, you’ve never felt this way towards a man in your entire life, no one made you smile… or cry the same way  he did.

His beautiful features, his soft skin, pink lips and glorious hair that always seemed to know it’s exact place to make him look even more extraterrestrial, if that was even possible. He owned your heart, and he knew, he knew you were his, and no matter what you’d always be there for him. ‘Love’ you told yourself, even if you had to endure it, it would be for love.

Everything was perfect in the beginning, he was there for you, he’d always been there for you and you appreciated it, you wanted more, you wanted him to become one with you, you wanted to give yourself to him, even tho he wanted to give you time, even tho he said you should wait until you felt ready, you wanted him, and you gave yourself to him, you became one. On your bed at 2 am after a few glasses of wine celebrating your 8 month relationship.

You thought that after that night things would step up a level, you’d become closer, but you were dead wrong. Kim Taehyung had a  bad habit, a habit of leaving girls after being done with them. But of course you didn’t know, he hided his steps too well. There was a reason he didn’t want to sleep with you, a reason why he didn’t want to cross that bridge. Cause he knew that once he did, things would never be the same, his interest would change, things would change, and they did.

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The mailbox

A few notes: First, I’m sorry for not getting back to your questions yet. I’ve been pretty busy with holidays, birthdays, job stuff, and kittens. I have a week or two of (mostly really short) stories translated so hopefully sometime before that runs out I can finally answer your questions.

Regarding this story! Nobody used an ID so I’m changing OP’s heading to OP to make things less confusing. Also, my word processor butchered my formatting. I tried to fix it here, but it’s still not wanting to look right.

Trigger warning: Check tags.

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[ boo. ]

Summary: AU. I have gotten separated from my group at the haunted house and you work here and no of course I am not scared I just happen to like huddling in this corner, thankyouverymuch.

This is particularly dedicated to my lil pumpkin @jenmmorrisons, who treats me to her friendship everyday, sans tricks. 

Happy Halloween, spooky darlings! xxx

+ + + +

She’s not scared.

Nope, not in the slightest. She is a grown-ass woman.

She just happens to like this spot is all. This nice, cozy seat atop a pile of…fake bones. So she lost the others. She’s fine! Totally fine. She’ll catch up to them in just a minute, she just needs a minute.

A loud bang elicits shrieks from a group of people in the next room, and Emma presses herself further into the shadowed corner that is currently her sanctuary. She squeezes her eyes shut and wills her breathing to a normal level, counting breaths in and out. In and out. In and—

She screams and nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand touches her shoulder.

“Easy, love. Easy. Are you alright?”

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#163 - You're Claustrophobic

Harry: “Oh no no no no,” you mumbled as the elevator jerked to a stop, your claustrophobia setting in almost immediately. “(Y/N)?” Harry asked from beside you, his arm finding its way around your waist. “Hey hey,” he continued, seeing the panic written all over your face. “I need to get out, I need to get out!” you exclaimed, pulling away and hitting the large metal doors that remained shut. The emergency button, after catching your eye, took brutal beating from your forefinger. “(Y/N),” your boyfriend tried to coax, but you were in a state of mind that was not a pretty one. He had seen only one episode like this before and knew the last thing you needed was for him to grab you and hold you. It would only trigger your fear more. All he could do was speak, trying to calm you down until the doors opened once again.

Liam: You were insistent on sitting in the actual audience for their next show. You figured that even though you did deal with claustrophobia, you would be able to handle yourself. It wasn’t until you were actually on the floor with all the screaming girls that you recognized the severity of it. The flashing stage lights and the compacted space was making it hard for you to deal with the discomfort of your fears. With a panicked expression, your hands began to sweat and shake. You needed to find a quick exit, but there just didn’t seem to be one. Panicking, your body filled with fear of something that wasn’t real, but sure seemed to be. Liam noticed your frantic look, immediately sending Paul to your aid and getting you safely backstage. “Babe are you okay?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead during an outfit change. “Yeah… yeah I’ll just stay back here for now on,” you replied and he nodded. “Of course babe. I’ll be back soon okay? Love you,” he said smiling as running to change.

Niall: During the night, your constant tossing and turning had caused you to get tangled up in the bedsheets, causing you to wake up in a panic. You hated the idea of small spaces and being trapped within. And not being unable to move was enough to scare you from a peaceful slumber. Your breathing increased and your eyes were wide, struggling in the darkness to unwrap yourself. “(Y/N)!” your boyfriend exclaimed when he noticed your uneasy state, flicking on the light and immediately moving to help you free your body from the tangled mess of blankets. “Hey, hey stop squirming,” he said reasonably calm, managing to get you out of your trap and move them completely out of your way. Your breathing started to get back to normal and your body relaxed, falling back into the pillow. “Sorry…” you sighed. “No, no it’s okay baby. Just try and get a little more sleep okay?” he said quietly, putting an arm around you. 

Zayn: He had tried to keep the fans a reasonable distance away from you, but with no security to keep them back, it was ruthless. You tried to stay as close as you could to Zayn, your claustrophobia kicking in in mere seconds. It wasn’t often you would get mobbed, but it was times like this that really triggered your fear. “(Y/N)!” Zayn exclaimed, grabbing your face once you were safely in the hotel lobby. “Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?” Your eyes flew open and took in the big, empty lobby. You didn’t realize how shaken up you were until you saw the look of worry on Zayn’s face. “You’re okay, okay? Everything’s okay.” Nodding you grabbed onto him, his arms finding their way around you as well. “If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have brought you with me… I’m so sorry boo…” “It’s okay..” you replied, your breathing steadying. “It’s all okay now…”

Louis: “I can’t….” you stuttered out, clutching onto your boyfriend’s hand as people continued to snap pictures of you, paparazzi surrounding you with no exit. The flashes made you feel so enclosed and panicked. Louis was trying to get you out of the situation, but the camera men were ruthless. “Hey! Get away!” he shouted, keeping a protective arm around you at all times. “Can’t you see she’s not okay?!” You listened to him yell, but that was becoming distant. All you wanted to do was run and break out of the crowd, wanting to have a big space and fresh air surrounding you. It felt like you were stuck in one place. One of the men felt gutsy, stepping closer to you and snapping a picture of you, the flash blinding you causing you to stumble backwards. You let out a terrified scream, falling to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut. Suddenly the crowd went quiet and the picture stopped. Louis dropped to his knees next to you, yelling at everyone to “fuck off” immediately changing his demeanour while speaking to you. “(Y/N), (Y/N)… look at me.” You looked up shaking, focusing on his deep blue eyes. “H-Home?” you whimpered out and he nodded, helping you to your feet and ignoring anyone else who attempted to talk to you, getting you safe and sound back home.

*sorry if I completely butchered the topic :/*