i like their 'real facts' that they put on the inside of the lid

Trouble in Canada // 2

a/n: You all have been so patient and I know I’m a bit late (4 months late soz about that). Every single one of you have been so amazing with the support of this, and it blows my mind every time I get a notification that TiC got another note. And when I posted earlier today that I was posting it, I absolutely loved the response I got in my inbox.  It made my heart incredibly happy and with each message that came in, not gonna lie, i teared up a bit. You all have been so lovely and good sports (especially when i posted that fake TiC2 WHAT A TIME). So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the support. I have met some of the most incredible people through TiC and I cherish every single one of you. I feel so emotional posting this, but you all finally deserve the second part to probably the most angsty piece I have ever written (and will ever write omg).  So, please enjoy the second and final installment to Trouble in Canada :)

THANK YA TO MY LOVELY @whitechocolateperfection for reading over this and giving me confidence :) you’re the best and i love you a whole lot 

Trouble in Canada (1)  |  Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

“We need to talk,”

        Those four words held a weight so heavy that you lost your grip on your tea.  Your mug dropped to the floor, shattering in pieces and tea spilling all over the hardwood floor.  You immediately went to pick up the broken pieces.  On your knees, you picked up the shards of glass as Shawn was stood in the same exact position; not moving a single bone in his body to help you.

        Collecting all the tiny shards in your hand you swiftly moved past Shawn to go throw the pieces out in the kitchen.  You opened the trash bin, and right as you were about to throw out the broken mug, Shawn’s voice interrupted your movements, “Is that the mug I got you?  The one from our first Valentine’s day together?”

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BTS scenarios: Cheering him up when he feels self-conscious

Originally posted by arkysal

Kim Seokjin/Jin

 There was something different about Jin that day. He wasn’t his usual bubbly self but quiet, almost invisible, ghost of Kim Seokjin. He didn’t try to make you laugh during breakfast when you were drinking tea. It worried you, but at the same time you didn’t want to be nosy. You knew damn well how easy it was to set him off when he was visibly stressed. Limited on choices you decided to wait for him to show signs that he wanted comfort from you.

 Good thing it was the day you tagged along for another show. You could watch Jin’s lack of interaction with other people. Every time somebody pointed that out he just laughed blaming his fatigue. Of course he was tired but neither you nor his bandmates believed it to be the reason behind his blank face.

 You stood by the wall, observing everyone move around. Minutes passed in a rush and your head started to spin at the thick atmosphere. Thankfully the stylist asked you to help Jin with his collar and tie. You walked close to him and instantly grabbed at the material with delicacy. While shifting the cables to his microphone you realized that Seokjin avoided looking at you. At first dark thoughts clouded your mind, but you pushed them aside with all your strength.

“Is the wire bothering you anywhere?” Although you let go of his collar, you stayed still in close proximity to him. 

 At the question he finally looked at you. Your eyes met for a short moment before his gaze moved somewhere to your right. He shook his head faintly without moving any other part of his body. You sighed and grabbed his shoulders to shake him a bit. Jin gave you a weird glance as he tried to pull out of your grip.

 Although it hurt, you didn’t let go of him. You were awkwardly struggling with each other for a longer moment until you decided it was really enough.

“Now, is it bothering you anywhere?” You asked once more. Again, he shook his head, but this time his eyes remained on you.

 You smiled faintly and tied his tie. When done, your index finger trailed up the fabric to stab his chin playfully. He was more confused than amused by your behavior yet he kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately for him you weren’t the one to give up on Jin.

“Oh, here’s a thing I forgot to give you!” You exclaimed after an idea formed in your brain.

 He observed your hand as you hid it in inside pocket of your jean jacket. You searched for a few seconds until you pulled out fingers shaped in heart. Your eyes were hungrily tracking his reaction.

 A quiet snort left his nostrils and Jin finally smiled for real at you. You returned a five times wider one and put the finger heart in the small pocket on his chest. The action had expected result. Your boyfriend relaxed enough to look you deep in the eyes. Encouraged by his positive response you dared to approach him close enough for you to lay your forearms on his chest. Your hands smoothed the material as you looked up from it with the gentlest expression you could make.

“I’m glad you accepted my heart.”

“It would be hard not to.”

“Did I tell you already that you look really handsome in that suit or was I screaming it in my mind this whole time?”

 His smile widened even more at that. His eyes moved down to look at his right hand that hung in the air. You grabbed it along with the left one without losing sight of his face and brought them up so you could kiss each one of his fingers. Jin’s eyes followed your lips hungrily taking in your adoration for his least favourite part of his body. When you finished his glance returned to meet yours. Jin let his hands hold your cheeks so he could kiss you properly. 

“Can you do one thing for me when on the stage?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Anything.” He smiled with pure adoration.

“When you’ll be singing your solo, can you take out the heart so I know you still have it? I want a close shot at you.”

 Jin gave you a weird glance but nodded lively.

Originally posted by yoongijae

Min Yoongi/Suga

 Yoongi disliked doing anything and it was a well-known fact. Not only you and his closest coworkers had an idea but also his fans were aware of that so-called hobby of his. That’s why you didn’t make a big deal out of his stay in bed. At least at first. You got worried when the bedroom door remained closed at 2 p.m. and frantic when nothing changed an hour later. Aware that he was probably hungry by that time, you prepared breakfast and decided to go to him. You tip toed to the doors and turned the doorknob carefully.

 It was weird to act this way in the middle of the day, but the dread that hid in you made you act carefully. Firstly, only your head leaned out. Room was dark as the curtains blocked the daylight. Still you could see Yoongi’s body resting under covers. You listened for a moment but when steady breathing didn’t reach your ears you risked walking inside. You moved to his side of bed and sat on it’s edge, centimeters from your boyfriend. Then you put kitchenware on his night stand and turned to him. He laid on his side facing wall on yours. Aware of how easily one could annoy half-asleep Yoongi you hesitated before laying fingers on his arm. You stroked it gently then leaned froward to look at his face.

 You were surprised to find him awake and shocked to see how puffy and red his face was. Dry paths of tears glistened on his cheeks and nose. If it wasn’t enough, his lower lip was bleeding probably from biting on it. Your other hand bushed his fringe to reveal his eyes, but he stubbornly kept them away from you. Through the whole process of you finding out about his miserable state he didn’t make a single movement to acknowledge your presence. Almost as if you weren’t there.

“Yoongi…” You whispered shaken by his state.

 He ignored you although he heard you for sure. A memory of his voice telling you to leave him alone resurfaced in your mind. But you weren’t able to leave him alone in his misery. He could lash out at you at any moment. Your mind kept repeating the same sentence over and over again yet your body was deaf to it. Carefully you changed position so your knee was touching his back while you could still look at his face.

 Afraid of his motionless state you called him again but more quiet. Once more he didn’t answer. His eyes remained glued to the wall on the other end of the room. You felt your own blood turn cold when his lids moved but he just blinked.

“I made you breakfast.” Your lips ghosted above his arm as you told him. “You must be hungry.”

 He remained as he was. You knew that you wouldn’t get more and moved up after kissing his skin softly. Your walk to the door was interrupted when you heard him finally move under covers. You turned around to find him staring back. His face was blank but you smiled nonetheless.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

 Yoongi let you leave him alone although he wanted you to stay with him. He needed your comforting words and warmth of your body to make him feel better. Yet he couldn’t find strength in himself to ask that of you. After a couple of minutes he looked to his left and grabbed the plate you left there. He knew that it had taken you a lot of time to prepare. Considering how pancakes were cut to resemble a head. Most likely his head. He judged from the pierced ears. Around the head laid rays of sunshine. The whole work looked like breakfast for a child not a grown-ass man like Yoongi. But he thought it was cute anyway and grabbed one of the stripes to bite it.

 He only realized that he was really hungry when he finished the whole plate. Aware of his loneliness he dared to lick the powdered sugar off it. When he put the plate back, door opened to reveal you with victorious smile on your face. You strode over to the bed and sat in front of him.

“Now that you ate enough sugar, can you come out and spend the day with me?” You asked.

 Yoongi’s eyes fell down to stare at his lap. His hands ran up his face and he let out a loud sigh. You were afraid to push him too much but then you noticed a bit of sugar on the top of his nose. Your finger wiped it off and transported it to your mouth. You licked off the sweetness meanwhile smiling at his surprised face.

“I’ve been blessed with the sugar off the sweetest man on Earth.”

 His face softened, your most beloved expression replacing the previous one. His hand caught yours and gripped on it tightly. No words needed.

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❥ ☇ insomniac *:。

word count: roughly 11,500.

genre: some (a lot of) depressing angst + major fluff + cute romance.

synopsis: wonwoo is the strangely quiet boy that sits in the back of class and would rather be reading than listening to the lessons. his appearance is also quite questionable, with dark rings under his eyes and disheveled hair. 

he’s earned the nickname, insomnia, and you’re curious to discover if the quiet boy matches what everyone seems to call him. 


There is nothing but silence, a still unsettling silence that sticks to every corner of the room as watery streaks of moonlight bathe the boards of oakwood. A clock sits on the bedside table, the black numbers being highlighted by the bright blue that lays behind them. At this time, the world is quiet, the only sound being the blood rushing through your ears or the steady heart beat thumping in your chest.

A bed is placed snuggly into the corner of the room, a thick comforter lying neatly over the old mattress that carries the stains of spilt coffee and tea. Nothing is out of place, all the clothes are folded with precision and tucked away inside the dresser, every book on the shelf has its spine turned out, each series perfectly aligned with the next. It might even look as if no one ever stayed inside the room for it was always too clean and organized, or maybe whoever slept there had too much time on their hands. 

Just as the digits on the clock struck 3am sharp, the door handle slowly swiveled and a figure emerged from the hallway, a tall glass of water curled in its fingers. After sitting down on the mattress and taking a very long sip of its beverage, the figure shifted to the centre of the bed and crossed its arms over its knees, back slouching and tufts of ash coloured hair falling carelessly over its eyes.


Noise. Why was it always so noisy?

The hallways acted like a speaker, amplifying every little clink or clank down the long corridors until it faded away. Only a few more weeks left of school, only a few more weeks left of angsty students who were constantly slamming their lockers and scuffing their shoes, only a few more weeks of fed up teachers who couldn’t even bother to yell at their class because they knew it was worthless. 

You could hardly wait to get away from it all and finally be able to isolate yourself back into silence, sweet, sweet silence. After navigating your way through the morning crowd of zombies that moved slower than molasses, you set your heap of books down and pushed in your earbuds. You liked being alone in class, before the lights were turned on and curtains were tugged open. You could just slouch at your desk and let your foot tap against the tiles while listening to something you actually wanted to hear and not the brainless conversations of the people around you.

Then the door was opening, and a streak of yellow light washed over the floor for a few seconds before disappearing. Another student was here, though he hardly looked like a student. His frame was tall and lean, prominent collar bones resting under his milky skin tone while messy ash tinted hair almost covered his eyes. 

Yes his eyes, they were dark, very dark, like someone dropped a splash of black food colouring into his irises. Discoloured circles lay under his lash line, like the result of someone who hadn’t slept in weeks while his attire consisted of a loose long sleeved white shirt and dark grey sweatpants tucked into worn out sneakers. His name was Wonwoo, but everyone called him Insomnia because that’s exactly how he looked. Like someone who couldn’t sleep.

Wonwoo stared blankly across the empty classroom as he readjusted the books swept under his arm, his hollow gaze sweeping right over you like you weren’t even there. Suddenly the bell began to ring and before you knew it, the zombies were flooding into the class, their voices still drowsy from the morning atmosphere as they plopped down lifelessly into their seats. Everyone was sitting except for Wonwoo, he just stood there with his usual blank stare, his back slightly slouched while he remained like a statue.

“Wake up Insomnia and take a seat already.” Someone called from the back of the class, but Wonwoo didn’t take a seat until Mrs. Kang the English teacher walked in, her heels clicking against the tiles while she pushed up the glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. She patted his should while slipping past him to get to her desk and it wasn’t until then that he finally moved, his eyes flickering slightly before finding an empty desk near the back. Wonwoo was just as fascinating as he was strange, and one day you wanted to have a real conversation with him just to see what was going on inside his head.


“You’re bringing a guy over?”

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Who wears short shorts?

Hello, Love bugs!

Dan X Reader

warnings- Smut, Swears.

May you please do one where the reader likes wearing short shorts around the house and dan and Phil think they’re teasing them? Smut at the end maybe? Thnx x x - Anon


It was finally spring and you were going to take full advantage. You had pulled out the shorts that you had to hide away for two seasons. You and the boys were going to hang out to enjoy the spring by going to get a coffee and then sit indoors with the windows open while doing some work. 

Walking to the boy’s door you couldn't help the smirk on your face. It was a beautiful day and you were about to spend it with two cuties. You and Phil had been friends forever. After he introduced you to Dan it was like he was like you had found your long lost friend. You swore the two of you were best friends in a past life.You called Phil to tell him to bring his ass downstairs.

“Moshi Moshi!” You shook your head even if he couldn’t see it he had a feeling you were giving him the look through the phone.

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Surprise gift

A/N: okay so here it is. This has taken fucking months and I’m super proud of it. I really hope you like it. It was originally written for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash s writing challenge but I missed the deadline here it is anyway! Massive, Massive thank you to @noodlecupcakes for betaing this for me. All mistakes are my own. I will total fix the Taglist in the morning it’s 2am and I’m about to die.

Masterlist

Wordcount:13,000

Tags/ warnings: D/s , smut, guided masturbation, Sex Toys, Vaginal Penetration, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Panty Kink, sub space, sub Drop, Comfort Aftercare, pussy slapping, cum tasting, bodily fluid, Dom! Negan, Undernegotiated Kink, Consent, Seduction, orgasm control, edging,

—————-

You were just drifting off again trying to get another nap in before your night shift on guard duty when a knock at the door jars you back into reality.

Taking a second to stretch out your back, you rise up off of your bed and answer the door. You don’t need to open it to know who is waiting for you on the other side, the tell tale ‘shave and a haircut’ rhythm giving him away. Feeling more curious than worried you slide the deadbolt back and open the door to see the man himself leaning against the doorframe.

“Negan?”

With Lucile resting gently on his shoulder, he smiles, cocking his head to the side slightly looking rather amused before wetting his lips. “Hey there sleepy head.”

Blinking yourself awake you run your fingers through your tangled hair, not quite sure if he was making fun of you or not. “I’m on nights this week - what’s wrong?”

Pinching his eyebrows together, Negan leans into the space between you both without any real heat to his voice. “Nothing’s wrong butternut – shit, why does something always have to be fucking wrong?”

“You don’t normally knock on my door.” You reason with him, stretching out a little as you scratch the back of your neck. You knew you were lucky to be in his good graces really. You never had to worry about his mood or him making some dramatic display at your expense but then again you never took advantage of it either. Keeping your head down and doing you job to the best of your ability had done you well and Negan seemed to appreciate it.

As he explains, you watch the way his eyes trail down your body and can’t help but feel a tremor of lust nip under your skin - not that you’ll ever let him know that. “True, true. But I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been busting those great big lady nuts of yours and I wanted to fucking get you something nice as a little reward.”

“Is that right?” Surprises were never really your thing if you were honest. Especially seeing as the new world was filled with surprises of the deadly variety. Still, the thought of a reward did catch your attention and you found yourself wondering what it could be to prompt Negan into making a personal visit.

With an easy shrug Negan brings Lucile down to rest against his boot in one fluid motion. “That’s all she fuckin’ wrote. Can I come in or are you gonna leave old Negan out in the fucking cold?”

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looking out for you

pairing: taehyung x reader | soulmates
word count: 9.2k
     → i didn’t even know soulmates existed before you. but i know it’s real because i feel it. it’s like my heart sees you and it just kinda knows you.

You were presenting in class the first time he infiltrated your vision with silk-like strokes of vivid colors. An odd twinge in your heart erupted and it felt as if someone had a grip around your throat, your legs giving in beneath you, your hands shakily finding their way to the table for support. As if through a blur, you heard your name being called out and you looked upon the class as specks of brown hues emerged, specks that hadn’t been there before.

It was a desperate attempt to stay upright as you focused on steadying your breath, the vivid hallucinations making it all that much harder when the specks took shapes and your heartrate boomed. Adrenaline was pulsing through your body and you saw the terrible posture, the slouched spine and the coffee hues that had turned to soft strands of hair. It was a boy, but he wasn’t from here. You saw the books in front of him, faint colors of a room surrounding him, an entire different reality set around his frame. Your lungs were fighting for air and you were irrevocably wavering when a choked scream finally fell from your lips and the figure turned, the widest set of scared eyes looking right back at you.

Seconds after that, you fainted.

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Right of Way || six

Summary: It gets worse.

Story Summary: Things were simple: your best friend was Jungkook’s girlfriend while your boyfriend, Jimin, was Jungkook’s best friend. In reality, things weren’t always that simple. And mutually exclusive.

Genre: Angst, smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader

Part: 6 of 10 || Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Music: Not Afraid Anymore by Halsey

Words: 8,457


Chapter Six: Headfirst

Originally posted by apgujeon

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Always Yours Part 1- Dean x Pregnant! Reader

Always Yours Part 1- Dean x Pregnant! Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of a gun.

Word Count: 2,155

AN: @lizwinchester16 requested a Pregnant Reader Insert. And while I was going to write a one-shot I decided to turn it into a mini-series.  There will most likely been three maybe four parts.  I plan to write it all this weekend if Hurricane Harvey doesn’t knock out our lights. :(  I also have two anony requests that I am going to do my best to write as well!  Again as long as Harv behaves!  Happy Reading!  

Wanna read the whole thing?- Always Yours Masterlist 

Tags: @weasleywinchester @jokerspuddincup  @lizwinchester16


And it is always yours
But I am always yours
-Switchfoot from Always

The tiny apartment you had moved into was somber and melancholic.  It fit the mood you had been living since your breakup with your infamous boyfriend.  Living with Dean Winchester had been the bests and worsts times of your life.  It was like a beautiful nightmare- one in which you had seen yourself living for much longer than you had. You hadn’t been born a hunter- no, you were just a girl from a working class family.  The same girl that had found out the hard way that; monsters are real and that they don’t just go bump in the night.  The memories of your parents’ deaths were seared into your mind, but from that had come something else:  Your Dean.

You sighed and ran a hand down your face as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling.  It had been almost two months since you had stormed out of the bunker when Dean had insisted that he wasn’t good for you.  It was a script that you all had visited over and over again for almost two years.  You knew your lines and your role in the play, but this time it had turned out differently.  Something had gone wrong with the little dance that had always taken place and you had felt something inside you snap.  You just couldn’t do it any longer.  

You felt the guilt creep up into your belly as you recalled the look in his eyes when you had finally agreed:  That, No!  He wasn’t good for you.  In fact, he was the worst thing that had ever happened to you.  Words spoken in a time of frustration and sadness.  You inhaled deeply as the heavy feeling returned to your chest.  Of all the things that you had been through with Dean- the mark, his self-hatred, chasing angels, demons and the like.  It was simply too much when he had formed some sort of bond with the being called Amara.  You had only observed them together once and Sam had whisked you away before you could get involved.  The ominous feeling that had gnawed at you, for a week after, had been your undoing.

It was after a failed attempt to contain Amara, that Dean had confessed to you just how strong his growing connection to her was.  That he wasn’t sure he could resist becoming a part of her.   It was then that the pressures, the worry, the anger, and the hurt that came with being with a Winchester had finally destroyed you.  When Dean had begged you to save him from this- you had replied with a deafening silence.  The dam broke and you were going to let him drown. Salty, hot, and guilt-ridden tears slipped down your cheeks.  You had left him and now you didn’t even know if he was okay.  

The guilt, sadness, and loneliness were not the only things consuming you.  There was something at the back of your mind that you didn’t want to put to thought.  It had been an encounter with Castiel a few nights before you had left.  An inconceivable thought, that you didn’t want to form into any kind of truth.  It would be world ending- to your world at least.  

You had been sitting at a table in the library pouring over any lore you could find about the darkness.  There was so little information that any time you came across something that may even had been the slightest lead, you had jumped on it. Your head had began to swim as the low light from the lamps made you feel impossibly tired.  You had looked up when you heard footsteps approaching and found yourself staring into familiar blue eyes.

Castiel had studied you closely for a moment.  His eyes squinting and forming lines around the lids.  You wrinkled your forehead in confusion as he stared.

“Have you told Dean?” He asked still not looking away from you.  Your eyebrows had knitted together in complete puzzlement.

“Told Dean what?” You asked.

“About your pregnancy.”  

The shock that had run through you had been deeper than even when you had found your parents.  You felt your stomach twist into a painful knot as you stared blankly pass Castiel.  His words twisted their way through your mind and you had become instantly sick. 

You had scurried from your chair and into the restroom to vomit into the toilet.  Dean had heard the commotion and was instantly at the door asking you what was wrong.  You had prayed silently to Castiel to not tell Dean anything until you could figure things out.

The rumbling from your stomach brought you out of your memory and caused you to glance down.  The small rounding of it caused you to swallow back more tears- it was getting harder to pretend that this wasn’t just some dream.  Sooner rather than later you would have to accept that you were going to have Dean Winchester’s baby. You sighed deeply and pressed your hand to the growing bump there. Your eyes widening when a little flutter of motion tickled you from the inside.  An uncontrollable sob wracked through your body as the realization hit you like a ton of bricks.  There was a wee little person inside you and they were going to be yours.

__________________

A few months later- the morning air was cold and crisp as you made your way to the little diner down the street from your apartment.  You had been working there part-time while you attended a few classes at the local college.  It wasn’t the most exciting life, but you wanted to give the little one growing inside you a good one.  You hummed along to the song that blasted into your headphones as you got ready for the morning rush.  You sighed contently as you passed a hand over your round belly.  Only four more months until your little girl would be here with you.


You smile as you make your way to your tables for the day and are happy to find just a few customers.  Your first stop was a woman with dark blonde hair and a well tailored suit.  She is glancing over the menu and you smile when she looks up.

“Good Morning, what can I start you off with?” You greeted.

She looks at you sharply and an odd smile forms on her face. You feel an unshakable bad feeling as the smile turns a bit sinister before turning to a softer one.

“How far along are you?”  She says in a posh british accent as she motions towards your belly.

“Umm.  Five months.” You stated with a bit of a strain in your voice.  What did this person want?

She eyes you for a moment, before mumbling something just low enough so you couldn’t make it out.  Though you could’ve sworn it sounded like she said something about leverage.  

“Excuse me?” You said trying to be as polite a possible.

“ Oh nothing dear.  Just reminiscing.  Now how about some coffee?  When in Rome as they say.”  

You nod your head as you step away from the table and try to forget about your odd encounter.  You only just left behind a life of immense and constant danger.  Which of course, failed to compare to the fact that you were once very important to a Winchester and currently carrying a Winchester. The look on your face must have spelt out volumes because your manager took notice right away.  Gladys was a nice older woman and she had taken you under her wing.


“Honey, what’s wrong?”  She asked in a voice of concern.  You turned your head to look at her with a sullen expression.  You certainly couldn’t tell her the truth, but maybe a little lie wouldn’t hurt.  

“I just got a text from my sister…  Her car broke down and she needs a ride. Would it be alright if I left?”  You answer.  

“Oh no honey!  Don’t worry I’ll get Barb to cover your table.  We’re pretty slow today anyway.” She stated as she gently clapped you on the shoulder.  

You expressed your thankfulness and then slip out the door- hoping that you don’t attract the attention of the woman.  Your boots clacked loudly against the concrete as you made your way as quickly as possible to the bus stop.  You knew the 10 o'clock bus would be there in just a few minutes.  The route would take you a bit further to get home, but it would give you time to think about what to do next.  The notion of calling Dean filled your mind, but your mouth became dry at the thought.  How would you ever explain everything to him?

You slouched down onto the hard bus bench as your mind raced.  You could also call Sammy, but again your stomach lurched at the thought.  You were just now settling into a life without them both and you stubbornly clung to the idea.  Breathing deeply, you try to relax as you feel your little girl kicking forceable against you. You bring your hand down to press your fingers above the motion and smile briefly.  You couldn’t help but feel that she was reminding you that she was indeed more important than your pride.

With a very heavy heart, you reach into your pocket for your phone.  Hesitating for a moment, you scroll through the contacts and push on Dean’s name.  Bringing the phone to your ear, you let out a shaky breath as it begins to ring.  Your stomach does somersaults as you wait for the other end to be picked up.  It only takes three rings and a low rumbly voice is whispering through the phone.

“Y/N. Is that you?”  You heard Dean murmur.  Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to keep it together.  

“Yes, Dean.  It’s me.”  You said.  Your voice broke as the tears now flowed freely.  You began to cry softly as you hear Dean softly coo your name.

“Don’t cry sweetheart. Please don’t cry.”  He said soothingly.

“Dean…  I’m in trouble…” You managed to get out between your sobs.  You could almost feel the turn in Dean’s demeanor over the phone.

“Where are you?” He asked.  His voice was much harder than before.

“Greenbrier, Tennessee.” You mumbled.  

“I’m a few days drive from there.  Get somewhere safe and I will be there as soon as I can.” You heard him say with a hitch in his voice.

“OK.” You replied meekly.  You were about to pull your ear away from the phone, but Dean’s voice stopped you.  His words caused your heart to hammer in your chest.

“Please just be safe, Y/N. I love you.”  With that the phone beeped to let you know that the call had been ended.  You stared down at it in your hand and swallowed thickly.  The screeching of bus brakes caused your head to snapped up and you breath a sigh of relief.  You stood to board the bus, but someone calling out your name stopped you.  You turned slowly on the heels of your boots to find the woman from earlier smirking at you.  You hear the cocking of a gun and you glance behind her to see another brunette woman standing with a gun pointed at your belly. Your breath became shorter as your heart raced in your chest.

“Well. Well. Dear girl, I think it would be best if you came with us.” The blonde woman said with a chipper sound in her voice.  You nodded slowly as you hear the bus pull away. The woman approached you and grabbed you by the arm.  She roughly yanked you over to the brunette woman and pushed you forward.

“Now, Ms. Watt, here, will be taking care of you for now.” She said as the brunette woman yanked you over by the arm.  You scowled at her and knocked her hand away.

“Who the hell are you people?”  You snarled as you turned to your captier.

“Oh how very rude of me.  It is always polite to have a proper introduction isn’t it?”  She paused for a moment to again smirk at you. “My name is Lady Toni Bevell and this is my associate Ms. Watt.”  She stated motioning between them.  “We are here in a regards to one Mr. Dean Winchester.”

“Never heard of him.” You snapped.  Toni rolled her eyes at you and gave a stock laugh.

“Oh darling please, we know all about you and the hunter swine…  Though, I must say: I was rather surprised to find that you are pregnant.  I don’t remember reading that in my briefing.”  She mused.   Your eyes darken at the mention of the baby and your hand ghosted over your stomach.  


“Now come along.  We have appointments to keep.”  With those words, you were forced into a black SUV.

_______________

No More Hiding // Mark Tuan

Originally posted by younggjaebum

Pairing: Mark x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary//Request: After breaking up with Mark a few months ago, you hide yourself away from him to try and forget about him. But after becoming stranded in the city due to a snowstorm, you find yourself in his apartment with all of the emotions and feelings still present in both your hearts.

Please note that this scenario mentions feelings of heavy relationship insecurities and feelings of not being good enough for someone.

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A Game for Those Who Seek to Find a Way to Leave Their World Behind

Summary: In which Dan finds a strange board game and ends up playing it (and releasing its horrors) with his best friend Carrie and arch enemy, Phil.

Word Count: 6.9k

TW: uhh there’s just some kind of horrifying things in there so idk good luck

Genre: angst? i guess? but it’s a happy end it’s like good angst

this is a thing now because i rewatched jumanji today and felt inspired (if you haven’t watched the movie it’s literally amazing you can find it online….. completely….. not illegal… ahem)(you can still read this even if you haven’t watched the movie but it’ll be better if you have probably)

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panicatthe-bands  asked:

Can you please do number 148? ☺️

THIS IS REALLY LONG BUT THIS PROMPT WAS REALLY GOOD! I HOPE YOU ENJOY! OMFG THIS ISN’T EVEN A DRABBLE IT’S A FULL FIC, IT’S OVER 1k, LUCKY YOU LOL! Here’s #148: “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”


The best thing about having a best friend is the fact you’re constantly with said best friend. That being said if Stiles could move in with Derek he totally would because their best friendom has reached epic proportions.

Sometimes Stiles will come over after school and Derek will be out of the room and Talia straight up asks him if he can help with the dishes. Derek leaves only to return with two plates for dinner with what Stiles likes to call the “optimum portion” on his plate. His father has inside jokes with Derek that Stiles will never understand. Hell, they’ve taken showers at each other’s houses and when they fail to have a certain clothing item they just take it from the other.

So yeah, be jealous, Derek is his best friend in the whole world.

Of course they stepped on each other’s toes, fought about the world’s most stupid shit, and occasionally were too sassy for the world to handle. Laura and Cora call them an old married couple much to their dismay. Except there really isn’t another way to describe them, it’s a pretty good comparison.

However they’re seventeen, Stiles is a man with needs.

…Derek needs.

The transition between sophomore and junior year did wonders for Derek. He hit the whole puberty thing like a pro. Skipped the acne train, managed to miss the squeaky voice memo, and ran straight into hot adult mode. He’s tall, dark, stubbly (or beardy depending on the day), and built like the hulk. So yeah…Derek got hot and Stiles was secretly all about that. Stiles was only human and his dick can’t control itself when it comes to his best friend.

Long story short, the whole sharing a bed thing had stopped too. Which sucked because Derek before and after puberty is actually a furnace and Stiles runs cold naturally. It worked really well Now? Now Stiles can’t deal with Derek’s soft sleeping puppy face combined with his shirtless chest in the mornings. At least not in the same bed.

While it pains him and Derek has questioned him on this, the solution was simple. Derek had a bed in his room, hence the name bedroom, but he also had this shitty futon for their late night gaming/movie extravaganzas. That was it, that was the solution, Stiles sleeps on the shitty futon that is too short for him now and his legs always fall off while Derek gets the bed.

Tonight they’re at Derek’s house, and it’s quiet with Cora at some weekend camp thing and Laura off in college. So it was just them and they’d been semi working on their separate econ papers and just hanging out while stuffing their faces with junk food. The last time Stiles checked the clock it was just after two in the morning, but that felt like forever ago and his eyes have been shut for a while as sleep welcomed him.

This…this is when weird shit happened and he thought it was a dream the first time it occurred.

It started with his legs, which were already half off the futon. Hands grasped his calves and put them straight. Then he was draped in the red fuzzy blanket the Hales kept around just for him even though it was threadbare and on its last leg. For the grand finale there was always this pause before he got a kiss on the forehead.

That’s right. A kiss on the forehead.

From Derek.

He was so done with it. Well…not like actually done done but he was tired of just getting them when Derek assumed he was already asleep. He wanted them to be real. He wanted them on other places than his forehead like his mouth, his chest, his—

Just lots of places, alright? Is that too much for him to ask?

So tonight, when his forehead was greeted with the soft brush of Derek’s lips he finally worked up the courage to crack his eyes open despite the lids feeling like a million pounds. Their eyes met and he watched as Derek’s face and ears were suddenly alive with red splotchy patches of embarrassment.

“Uhh–”

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Stiles asked softly, rising so he was resting back on his elbows.

Derek stood there, and for a second the dorky shy kid he once knew was back, “I–um, do you want me to kiss you when you’re not sleeping?”

“Is that even a question? I mean I’ve kind of had a thing for you since freshman year big guy, but…if these were just best friend kisses then ignore me. That was a sleepy babble, don’t even acknowledge my words,” Stiles said.

There was this shift in shy dorky Derek, because suddenly that was replaced with this confident looking super hot version of Derek that Stiles had never seen but could totally get used to. For a beat they searched each other’s faces to see if there was any sign of hesitation or unsureness.

There was none.

Derek did this weird bending down thing and Stiles did this awkward scooting thing until they met in the middle. Hands cupped his face and his own ended up wound in Derek’s shirt, their heads tilted just so as their lips finally met. There wasn’t the fireworks like in movies but it felt damn good to kiss Derek. Of course Derek pulled him to his feet because the weird angle got to be too much.

Standing up only deepened the kiss and holy crap this could possibly top his love for curly fries. His love for kissing Derek. There needs to be a fanclub for this, obviously he’d be president and the only member, but still. The hint of facial hair Derek had tickled his mouth and chin, their tongues were suddenly involved and mingling, and it was just good.

So very awesomely good.

Eventually they pulled apart because oxygen, but they didn’t let go.

“Does this mean those weren’t best friend kisses or…?” Stiles asked, voice a little hoarse.

Derek smirked, “they were. You know it’s okay to be in love with your best friend right?”

“Well…in that case I love you and our best friend kisses.”


ASK ME A PROMPT FOR THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE!

Say It - Epilogue

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.738 (this was supposed to be short, lol)

Summary: you loved Bucky unconditionally, enough to sacrifice your life for his happiness, now Bucky tries to save yours.

Warning: none other than some cuteness!

A/N: I want to say a huge effin thank you to each and every one who’s read/commented/reblogged anything on this story. I loved writing this one and It makes my heart so incredibly happy that you loved it too! Lots and lots of love, this is offically the end to this story, thank you so incredibly much! 


It was as if you had waited for Bucky to be alright with the fact that you couldn’t remember him, nor your former life with the Avengers before you could move forward. The second Bucky had reintroduced himself to you; he noticed how you visibly relaxed much more around him. There was no guilt, no confusion, no question in your eyes when you looked at him, all there was, was hope. Hope for a better future and a smile that was big and bright enough to light the path towards something much better than what had been.

As the months went by Bucky was first seat passenger to your journey towards finding yourself. You no longer focused on remembering, not after Wanda had tried to unlock the hidden corners of your mind, because unfortunately, Hydra had truly wiped you of anything and everything. When Bucky learned the news, he became even more certain in his love for you, and your love for him, because despite the thorough efforts of wiping your mind completely from your former life, something in you remembered him. That something remembered your love even though you couldn’t remember.

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franceschee  asked:

My birthday is April 28th. I don't maintain a blog on Tumblr though. I created an account just to follow the fabulous fellow Everlarkers here. If you can, I will take anything I can get but if possible, some smut please. *bambi eyes*

Happy birthday! Here is a little something special cooked up just for you by @katnissdoesnotfollowback. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the read!


Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

Happiest of birthdays to you! I hope you enjoy what I’ve cooked up for you and it adds to to your celebration. Thanks to @peetabreadgirl for prereading this sucker.  <3 KDNFB

TWENTY-FIVE

“I’m gonna be late. Please tell me you made some hot water for tea this morning,” Peeta says to his brother as he rushes into the kitchen and tosses his bag on the counter.

“Gotta move faster, old man,” Ryen teases, but lowers his newspaper enough to point to the kettle sitting on a silicone trivet.

“You’re two years older than me,” Peeta grumbles, not bothering to look at what he is sure is a self-satisfied smirk on his brother’s face, choosing instead to focus on pouring the water into his travel mug and dropping in a tea bag to steep.

“Yes, but nothing good happens after twenty-five. They expect you to be an adult after twenty-five. For real,” Ryen complains and Peeta curses as the hot liquid splashes over the edges onto his hand when he moves it a little too forcefully towards the spot where he left the lid.

“Graham would disagree,” he mutters sarcastically as he shakes the tea droplets off his hand and wipes the residue on a towel. His skin stings, but he doesn’t have time to deal with it.

“Graham is an idiot,” Ryen returns, but he doesn’t say the rest of what they’re both thinking.

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akutagawahakuryuunosuke  asked:

4 + 11 +1 with Ieyasu please hehe for the drabble things hehe

(That’d be ‘I have never wanted anything more’ + Surprises + Coffee Shop AU)

Full disclaimer: This is probably not what you had in mind for these prompts but this is what struck me. Also, I’ve never played Ieyasu’s route (sorry! sorry!) SO I hope I didn’t royally eff up his character here. Enjoy!

Also P.S. Why can I never write a drabble, or anything less than a bazillion words for these things?


“Richie Rich, on your six.”

Your coworker’s muttered warning had you smothering a sigh, yanking on the handle of the portafilter viciously as you seated it for a fresh round of shots. The coffee shop was packed this morning, a line of customers snaking through the maze of tables, and the absolute last thing you needed right now was to be waiting on the whims of His High-ass. Through the clamor of drinks being called out, you set about putting together the fruity abomination he always ordered, practically by rote - a triple shot ristretto mocha, light on the chocolate, with exactly six (and a half) pumps of strawberry syrup, plus extra whip, served at no more than 140 degrees.

Double cupped.

You could see his artfully tousled mop of blond hair drawing inexorably closer to the front of the line, like an advancing storm. Today was Tuesday - which meant it was olive-green suit day, a color that no living man had a right to look as sinfully good in as he did, but you shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact that he made something so damned contrary work. It was in his very nature, you imagined.

Pretty as one of Reni’s angels…but a devil lurked behind those russet eyes.

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Coffee Break!

a/n: break from prompts to do an impromptu fic-for-art exchange with one of the sweetest artists, lordy idk why he even wants to do this exchange, its completely unfair because I’m definitely getting the better end of this bargain. Especially since I requested something completely ridiculous from him but GOD is it BEAUTIFUL
summary: In a world, where Johan swaps out Usnavi’s regular coffee with decaf, Usnavi has, what he thinks is, the worst day of his life. (aka: Decaf!Au)
w/c: 2184
Sincerely tagging:
@lilldov

 ‘Caffeine can  really stress the heart out…’ Bow said to Johan once while they offhandedly passed by a local coffee shop with a line zipping all the way around the block. Ever since then Johan couldn’t help but think about it. Coffee, like anything in excess, couldn’t be good forever. Even more so some time before, Bow had mentioned that Hispanics have a higher chance of heart disease…since then Johan’s health craze has been…well unbearable to anyone who didn’t love him as much as Usnavi did.  Luckily for Johan, Usnavi loved him immensely and while his diet was…intense Usnavi knew it was because he cared. There was only one thing he wouldn’t change.

Coffee. Usnavi didn’t just serve it, he was raised on it. It seemed weird to Johan (which was saying a lot) but a lot of Usnavi’s culture felt rooted in this drink. The skill to brew it, the stories told over a cup of coffee, how coffee spoke to people. This was a third language to Usnavi and it was one he wasn’t going to let Johan mess with. So on the day, on Usnavi’s worse day, Johan for once had gotten up earlier than Usnavi. He eyed the yellow, demon can of caffeine that may or may not send his small, beloved man to an early grave and decided to do a small experiment. He grabbed a plastic bag and dumped the contents of the dirt looking powder inside, and opened an organic, vegan baggie of decaf coffee powder. He replaced it, gave it a small sniff, and to Johan there was no difference. “Mornin’ cariño, you’re awake? So early?” Usnavi sleepily rubbed his eyes, emerging from the bathroom. Johan, still in his sleeping clothes (consisting of just sweatpants, nothing else), smiled at him.

“What can I say; I’m getting use to your early morning ways.” He tried to sound like a less guilty man but his smile twitched, he felt nervous. It dawned on him how important coffee was to this man. This…could possibly make or break them. Suddenly Johan wanted to take it all back but Usnavi had already moved towards the yellow tin and broke it open.

He paused and sniffed it a little, he didn’t take his usual exhale of relief. He eyed the coffee and pondered. “Johan”

“Y-Yeaaa” Johan suddenly started darting over to the living room. He stood by the window and bent over.

“The coffee, does it smell…” Usnavi’s eyes wandered up, and just as Johan had innocently planned, Usnavi was stopped dead in his tracks by Johan in his downward dog pose. The Dominican tilted his head completely forgetting what he had to say. For the moment he enjoyed the few of his boyfriend stretching by an open window, shirtless and going commando under his sweatpants.

Johan smirked thank god for Yoga. He stood upright letting his boyfriend eye his muscular back as he stretched into a sun salutation pose. “Hm, did you say something my sweet, jouet.” He wiggled an eyebrow intensifying the Usnavi’s already flustered expression.

The combination of Usnavi’s undying lust over his man and the fact his brain was working on low without coffee, he blanked. “Nada…es nada…” He mumbled in Spanish, finding it hard to even form English at this point. Spanish was Usnavi’s safe way of being flustered and Johan not knowing what he was saying. “No es justo que un hombre debriera ser tan hermoso en *la mañanita de la manana” (It’s not fair a man can be that beautiful in the wee hours of the morning- informal slang). Usnavi grumbled as he made his coffee. Johan continued to do yoga, not really concentrating since he was watching Usnavi’s every move as he downed the coffee. Like with the smell he paused, smacked his lips together tasting the coffee. He turned to Johan as if to ask something but Johan immediately dropped into a bridge pose.

Was he exploiting his flexibility to keep Usnavi from asking anything that he may or may not be able to lie about? Of course. Was it working? Absolutely. Usnavi eyed his boyfriend as he held himself up, his arms and abs flexed making the Dominican lose track of every thought including his name at this point. “Are you going to work today, hun?” Johan spoke, watching from the upside down view, his boyfriend fidgeting a little.

“Y-Yea I’m going now…can I get a kiss?” He needed something fast before Johan made him explode. Johan pushed himself off from the ground and back to his feet in one elegant movement. He turned and grabbed Usnavi, making sure that the last thing on his mind was his jacked coffee. He planted a kiss that almost insisted Usnavi stay home inside. The kind of kiss that Usnavi was left gasping and his stomach gnawed at the walls of his insides. Johan pulled away, smirking at his handiwork. Usnavi was still half lidded, mouth still opened. Absently, Johan somewhat missed the strong, bitter coffee breath…perhaps it was the guilt but once Usnavi saw he could function without coffee it would all be worth it. “Uh..you…are very..um..” Usnavi went to accuse of Johan of trying to make him stay…but damn it was working to well.

“What can I say?” Johan smiled kissing Usnavi’s unexpecting mouth again. “I miss you already. Go have a good day.”

Usnavi staggered back and nodded, “…aye dios…” he breathed, feeling a jolt just by being around Johan. Perhaps he didn’t need coffee, he mused to himself.The day began and Usnavi usually felt the first kicks of coffee hit him in the morning right before Sonny stumbled in late. Instead he…felt nothing, his limbs did get progressively limper and his body felt heavier all of the sudden. Had he put on any weight? No he was still a moderately average size, his pants felt fine as did his shirt. He shook his head and started slowly sweeping, back and forth, and back…and forth. His mind started to slip in and out as he swayed to the slow, sloppy sweeping of his broom. He did this mindlessly for an hour when Sonny eventually walked in.  Sonny readying himself for his cousin’s wrath, his neck dotted in evidence where and with who he was with. “Before you say anything, I can explain I was…attacked by a very small cat on the neck and—“ He looked over at Usnavi and waited. And waited…usually Usnavi would be down his throat with scolding but instead. He was just standing there, swaying… “Usnavi?” He walked over and gently poked his cousin on the side. 

“Mmnh.” Usnavi blinked a few times but couldn’t manage to open his eyes any wider than half. He turned and looked at Sonny, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Sonny, when did you get in?” He yawned and slowly pulled his wrist to his face. He looked like someone reading the time, shame there was no watch on his bare arm. “Right on time, good..S-Sooahhh” He yawned again.

Sonny arched an eyebrow and decided it was best to just…let it go since Usnavi wasn’t yelling at him. “Suuuure. Whatever you say…” Sonny took notice the rest of the day Usnavi was out of it. When rush hour came in, Usnavi couldn’t even do the simple math. He stared at the cash register for so long the line actually started to dwindle because people were leaving! Finally Sonny stepped in, pushing his zombie cousin out of the way. “Navi’ just make coffee or something.”

“S-Si” He waved Sonny off, his voice drawling and dragging with sleep. Usnavi never felt so…out of it. He couldn’t seem to focus on a single thing. He started to put a pot to brew and stood there. He leaned up against the counter and felt gravity betray him and his body gave out. He slumped over the counter and groaned, unable to so much lift his head up. It was though a cinderblock was dropped on him. His eyes fluttered close for a second.

“USNAVI”

Sonny’s yell brought him to his feet. “H-Huh?” He wiped his head around back and forth, trying to find Sonny. He turned his head and noticed Sonny had been behind him and was holding  up a kettle of hot water. “Why are you boilin’ water, Sonny?”

“Me?!” Sonny glared, stressed from manning both the counter and now Usnavi. “I told you we needed coffee and you made it, just minus the coffee!” All Usnavi made was hot water.

“Oh..wow…”

Sonny shot a worried look to his cousin. “You ok, man?” This was so far from Usnavi’s regular that now Sonny was starting to worry for real. “Bro…maybe you should take five?”

“Yeah…yeah…” Usnavi took off his hat and rubbed his hair. “I’ll go sit…” He stumbled to the backroom. He took a seat and started going down the check list of things he had stocked up. He started checking off product by product. His head bobbing with each check, until slowly…his world went dark.

“Seriously he’s been buggin’ all day. I’m worried”
“Nina, what do you think?”
“I don’t know I’ve never seen him like this…”
“Oh god should we call 911??”


“No one is calling 911” Benny hissed then gently a large hand came down on Usnavi’s shoulder and shook him gently. “Hey…hey Usnavi…” Benny spoke gently.

Usnavi opened his eyes and looked around, his vision blurrier than usual he made out the faces of Sonny, Nina, and Benny all around him. “Que? Que fue?” (What? What’s up/going on?). He looked down at the clipboard and found his checks were all over the place, not even in the designated boxes for the items. He squinted a bit and groaned, his head felt heavy, everything felt bogged down by some invisible force. Even his thinking was hazy.

“You’re really out of it…” Benny shook his head.

“I think you’re sick, Navi” Nina spoke softly, “you should go home and rest…Sonny will handle the store and Benny and I can help.” She offered, though Benny grunted a bit. They had a date planned and the date was not to be cooped up at the bodega with Sonny. Still, Usnavi looked so weakened, even his posture seemed to be smaller, curling into himself like a helpless animal.

“Sick…yeah…” He muttered, this was the worst. He lost customers; he failed at brewing coffee, now he was being kicked out of his own store. This was the worse sick he ever felt. It wasn’t a stuffy nose with aches and a fever. This was just a hollow sluggish feeling, a mild ache in his mind, a loss of total interest in everything. Was he… “…I’ll go home now…” He muttered slowly getting to his feet. He swayed at bit even stumbled after only taking two steps forward. He felt like he was walking on stilts. One wrong step and everything would tip over.

One foot after the other, slow and steady Usnavi made it to his apartment. He tried the key but missed the hole repeatedly, then started to knock using his face as the door knocker. “Opeeeeen” he yawned. Slowly the door opened and Johan was right there to catch Usnavi after he placed all his weight on the door. “Jo…Jo…” he muttered finding some solace in strong, support beam like arms holding him up.

“Shh…I-I’m here…” Johan whispered, spent the whole day ignoring the guilt telling himself this was a good healthy thing he was doing. But Usnavi looked so…miserable. He dragged his boyfriend to the couch and sat him down, only to have Usnavi flop over his lap and shiver. “What happened? Why are you home so soon?”

“My head hurts, my eyes can’t stay open…my arms and legs feel like jello…” He mumbled, his voice yawning and cracking between every few words. “A-And I can’t even man the store…” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if trying to press his eyeballs back into his sockets. “My stomach feels funny…ugh…”

“…I see…” Johan gulped stroking Usnavi’s head.

“Johan…” He mumbled, “I think I’m really sick…I…” His lower lip trembled; he never felt anything like this. He felt like his body was literally going to give out any second. “I’m sick…” Usnavi admitted in a soft and tender voice. The pitiful sound of his pathetic admission sent Johan over the edge. Usnavi would never admit to illness unless it was closer to life and death.

“…M-My darling…love…of my …life you’re not siiiiick…” Johan smiled, worry gripping at him but he couldn’t take Usnavi looking like this. “I…I…might have…swapped-out-your-coffee-and-given-you-decaf-instead” He spoke in one long chain. There was a pause, a long one, before Usnavi slowly peeled his hands off his eyes. His lips pulled into a sleepy frown.

“Oh.” Usnavi muttered nodding, suddenly his bag framed eyes glared up at Johan with so much emptiness Johan thought he was up to be murdered. “…you are…in so much trouble, amor.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “so much trouble…” He sighed, “hombre de la mierda…” (piece of shit*slang informal)

anonymous asked:

I think Sokka's quest for identity is one of the most interesting things about him. What it means to be a man, to be useful and to be acknowledged is an interesting central conflict for a supporting character. What do you think S3 Sokka believes it takes to be a man. I think he's learnt to intercede and mediate issues in his family and to make tough choices. What else can you think of?

Sokka: Now men, it’s important that you show no fear when you face a firebender. In the Water Tribe, we fight to the last man standing. For without courage, how can we call ourselves men?

Another excellent question! Sokka’s quest for identity is intrinsically linked to his quest for manliness, because if you’ll recall, Sokka was not able to become a man by Water Tribe custom before he was nominally put in charge of the tribe:

Bato: How about you, Sokka? You must have some good stories from your first time ice-dodging?
Katara: He never got to go. Dad left before he was old enough.
Bato: Oh, I forgot, you were too young.
Aang: What’s ice-dodging?
Bato: It’s a rite of passage for young water tribe members.

But while Katara was helping with the chores, keeping her family together and helping to deliver babies, Sokka was left adrift, without a paternal example to emulate for two of his teenage years. War never came to his doorstep, so he resorts to “training” the kindergarten crowed. And notice that Katara (and likely the other members of his tribe) don’t take this seriously:

Katara: Ugh, I’m embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I’ve been doing all the work around camp while you’ve been off playing soldier!

Playing soldier. Katara’s right: that’s exactly what Sokka has been doing, because the rigid gender expectations of being a man don’t allow him to do anything else. One Aang arrives and upends Sokka’s world, his identity as a would-be man collides with the reality of the war and the people around him.

The Four Parts of Being a Man (by Sokka)

1. Leader

Sokka : I know you all want to fly, but my instincts tell me we should play it safe this time and walk.
Katara: Who made you the boss?
Sokka: I’m not the boss—I’m the leader.
Katara : You’re the leader? But your voice still cracks!
Sokka: I’m the oldest and I’m a warrior. So…I’m the leader!

Katara: You’re hurt. Badly. You can’t fight anymore. 
Hakoda: Everyone’s counting on me to lead this mission, Katara. I won’t let them down. 
Sokka: Can’t you heal him any faster? 
Katara: I’m doing everything I can. 
Sokka: I’ll do it.
Katara: No offense Sokka but you’re not exactly Mr. Healing Hands.
Sokka: No.  I’ll lead the invasion force. 
Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.
Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start and we need to be up that volcano by the time it does.
Hakoda:  You can do this. I’m proud of you, son. 
Katara: I still think you’re crazy but I’m proud of you too. 

Sokka’s father is the chief, so it makes sense that being a man implies being a leader. But before his adventure, Sokka has only a nebulous idea of what that really means. Worse, he seems to think that being a man makes him a leader, instead of being a leader making him a man. When he first tries to assert his authority in “Jet”, he is met with ridicule:

Aang: Walking stinks! How do people go anywhere without a flying bison?
Katara: I don’t know Aang. Why don’t you ask Sokka’s instincts—they seem to know everything.
Sokka: Ha ha. Very funny.
Aang: I’m tired of carrying this pack.
Katara: You know who you should ask to carry it for a while? Sokka’s Instincts!
Aang: That’s a great idea! Hey, Sokka’s Instincts, would you mind—
Sokka: Okay, okay—I get it.

As so often happens, Sokka has to adapt to the situation. “Jet” is about a boy who, although a good leader in most senses, leads his team astray into murder and mayhem. Sokka, even though he is a novice, realizes innocent lives are on the line and warns the townspeople before the dam explodes. He didn’t expect to be a leader at the moment, but he didn’t fail when it really mattered. Throughout the series, his tactical and strategic successes accumulate until the entire GAang relies on him to plan their missions. And on “The Day of Black Sun”, despite his fumbling speech beforehand, Sokka takes the reins of the mission and performs admirably.

Aang: It’s over. The Fire Lord is probably long gone. Far away on some remote island where he’ll be safe during the eclipse.
Sokka: No. My instincts tell me he wouldn’t go too far. He would have a secret bunker. Somewhere he could go so it’ll be safe during a siege but still be close enough to lead his nation.
Toph: If it’s an underground secret bunker we’re looking for, I’m just the girl to find it. 

No one’s laughing at Sokka’s instincts now.

2. Protector

Katara : Sokka, you’re making a mistake. 
Sokka: No! I’m keeping my promise to Dad. I’m protecting you from threats like him! 

Illusion Yue: You didn’t protect me.

Sokka’s mother was murdered when he was very young, and there was nothing he could do about it. He knows from how devastated his father was and how driven he became to help the war effort that being a man must mean protecting people—especially the women in your life. Sokka protects Katara on multiple occasions from threats real (Jet, Mai) and imagined (Aang, Appa). Protecting Katara is his way of protecting the mother he couldn’t save as a boy. And his inability to protect Yue from sacrificing herself cuts him deeply. He overcompensates by trying to shield Suki from everything:

Suki:  Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but I can take care of myself. 
Sokka: I know you can. 
Suki: Then why are you acting so over protective?
Sokka: It’s so hard to lose someone you care about.  Something happened at the North Pole, and I couldn’t protect someone. I don’t want anything like that to ever happen again.

In the end, Sokka learns how to be protect the people he cares about without stifling them. His shielding of Toph in the finale is very similar to his protecting Katara in the pilot:

But there’s one key difference: in the pilot, Sokka thought of Katara as someone who is more in need of protection as a girl. In the finale, Sokka recognizes that Toph can’t see the falling shards of metal, but respects her fighting ability over and over:

Sokka: Did I mention how sweet it was that you invented metalbending?

Sokka: I am so glad we added you to the group!

3. Warrior

Even more than being a leader, being a warrior defines being a man in the Water Tribe. And no wonder; with decades of being raided by the ruthless Fire Nation, and waterbenders being increasingly scarce, the South would have had to rely more and more on brute strength to drive off the invaders. A warrior is also the one thing Sokka is most insecure about because it implies a certain skillset that he was too young to receive full training in. Not to mention, his sister is a waterbender and he is not. Witness this exchange from “The Warriors of Kyoshi”:

Sokka:  Who are you? Where are the men who ambushed us? 
Suki:  There were no men. We ambushed you. Now tell us, who are you and what are you doing here? 
Sokka:  Wait a second, there’s no way that a bunch of girls took us down. 

Although gender roles are fairly rigid in the Southern Water Tribe, the Sokka from the very beginning of the series feels the constant need to reinforce being a warrior as a “manly” pursuit and puts Katara down for being a girl. I am reminded of Iroh’s speech to Zuko:

Iroh: Prince Zuko, pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.

Iroh: True humility is the only antidote to shame.

Sokka’s status as a nonbender is often a source of shame for him. He is treated differently by bending masters:

Master Pakku: Sokka.  Take care, son. 

And even his own teammates:

Toph: We can take ‘em. Three on three.
Sokka: Actually, Toph, there’s four of us.
Toph: Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t count you. You know, no bending and all.
Sokka:  I can still fight!
Toph: Okay. Three on three plus Sokka.

This leads him to act proud of his manliness, an attribute that he needs no training or bending to have. He even tries to get Aang to act “manlier” and not answer to “Twinkletoes”. In the end, though, he confesses the truth about how he feels:

Sokka: Look, I appreciate the effort, but the fact is each of you is so amazing and so special, and I’m not. I’m just the guy in the group who’s regular. 

But Sokka is special, and as the series goes on, he proves his mettle with a balance of outlandish inventiveness and logical practicality:

Sokka: See, the problem with the old war balloon was you could get it airborne, but once you did, it just kept going.  You could put a hole in the top, but then all the hot air would escape. So the question became, how do you keep a lid on hot air? 
Katara: Ugh, if only we knew. 
Sokka: A lid is actually the answer. If you control the hot air, you control the war balloon. 
Katara: Hmm. That’s actually pretty smart. 


Sokka: I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find it’s weak points. 
Aang: Where are we gonna get something like that What are you doing! Someone’s gonna hear us! 
Sokka:  That’s the point. I figure a machine this big needs engineers to run it, and when something breaks…
Katara: They come to fix it. 

He overcomes his insecurities as a warrior by being true to himself.

Piandao: Sokka, when you first arrived, you were so unsure. You even seemed down on yourself. But I saw something in you right away. I saw a heart as strong as a lion turtle, and twice as big. And as we trained, it wasn’t your skills that impressed me.  No, it certainly wasn’t your skills.  You showed something beyond that.  Creativity, versatility, intelligence… these are the traits that define a great swordsman. And these are the traits that define you.  You told me you didn’t know if you were worthy, but I believe that you are more worthy than any man I have ever trained. 

4. Father

Sokka can show how brave he is, how creative he is, and how much of a leader he’s become. But in the end, he measures his identity as a man by his father’s example:

Aang: Sokka, that speech wasn’t your moment of truth. That was just public speaking and nobody’s really good at that.
Sokka: My Dad is. He explained the plan perfectly and inspired everyone. Like a real leader should. 
Aang: Look, your moment of truth isn’t going to be in front of some map. It’s going to be out there, on the battlefield. 

Unlike with Zuko, Sokka’s confidence in his father is fully justified. As he grows and matures, he becomes, not a copy of his father, but his own person. He learns that he can be a warrior without putting others down, and he can assert authority without being pigheaded. He can trust in his own abilities, regardless of how skilled everyone else is around him. And Hakoda validates Sokka’s identity in every respect.

As a protector:

Hakoda: Sokka…
Sokka: I’m coming with you.
Hakoda: You’re not old enough to go to war, Sokka, you know that.
Sokka: I’m strong! I’m brave! I can fight! Please, Dad!
Hakoda: Being a man is knowing where you’re needed the most, and for you right now that’s here protecting your sister.
Sokka: I don’t understand.
Hakoda: Someday you will. I’m going to miss you so much.

As a warrior:

Hakoda: Ready to go knock some Fire Nation heads?
Sokka:  You don’t know how much this means to me dad. I’ll make you proud, and I’ll finally prove to you what a great warrior I am.
Hakoda:  Sokka, you don’t have to prove anything to me.  I’m already proud of you, and I’ve always known you were a great warrior.
Sokka
: Really?
Hakoda: Why do you think I trusted you to look after our tribe when I left?

As a leader:

Sokka: No. I’ll lead the invasion force. 
Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.
Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start and we need to be up that volcano by the time it does.
HakodaYou can do this. I’m proud of you, son. 

And as a man.

Hakoda: Bato, get these mines loaded up. The rest of you men, prepare for battle! 
Sokka: Uh, what should I do, Dad?
Hakoda: Aren’t you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle.

Sokka will be a fantastic father to his own children someday, no matter what LOK might imply.

Just Regular Stuff - (A Suho One shot)


“Oppa” you said in your sweetest voice, kicking your legs cutely as you sat up on his kitchen counter. He glanced at you before returning to his container of yogurt. You had just finished a run with Suho, your workout buddy who you met at the gym three months ago. You hit it off well and had been spending time exercising together now. You liked him. You really really liked him. But he was a total nerd. And a self control freak. You’d never met someone as in control of himself as Suho was. It was beginning to drive you crazy. How was he so repressed?

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Hiding But Not Really

Hiii ~Excu SE mua, I’m just like, dropping my whatever drabbles on the fandom. 

Two things; 1) Happy late bday Lya! Hope you like this small thing I put up together and 2) Background info of the fic: 

College au. Klance Ok Terms. Klance go party. Party go wild. Klance Drunk. Klance made out. Klance banged. Klance panicking over their now clear pining. 

Basically. Anyways, ON TO THE FIC.

Ps. yeah also, there is not smut whatsoever, just like, mentions of sex and the fact that it is KNOWN THAT THEY FUCKED - I mean, banged. They banged.

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 


Lance sighs as the hot water hits his skin but it does nothing to dim the ghost feeling of fingers caressing his naked body.

He can still feel them on him; on his cheeks, stroking gently and affectionate, before traveling down, passing his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs.

He remembers the soft pressure of lips over him, pressing themselves on his own lips, his neck, his jaw. He remembers the way they marked him, sudden but withholding a promise of the sorts in them.

Lance groans and leans forward, slamming his forehead against the bathroom’s stall gently.

This is exactly why you shouldn’t have sex with your crush who is also one of your best friends, and for fucks sake’s Lance, you are taking the shower to clean yourself, not to have a lonely round three.

They had an interesting night, Lance had to admit.

He shakes his head, trying in vain to get rid of the memory of those dark blue eyes staring right into his own lighter ones. He tries, he really does, to remove the husky low voice that had whispered comfort and praise in his ear as his entire body trembled.

Lance is starting to realize that Keith Kogane might just as well be the death of him.

‘Are you sure?’ Lance remembers himself saying; hair disheveled, lips swollen, pupils dilated but eyes wide in concern, hesitation and maybe hope, ‘Keith, are you sure?’

The way Keith had stared right back at Lance steadily under half lidded eyes had made his heart beat wildly inside him, even now, as he stands under the shower alone.

It might as well had been a mistake, sure, but that was still yet to be discovered; if Lance had the enough courage to find out, that is.

Lance grunts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. No point of thinking about it now, not when he abruptly left a speechless Keith in his apartment’s bedroom when they realized what they have done.

His throat tightens at the thought of Keith. There’s no way for Lance to reassure himself that what happened had been as real for Keith as it was for him. He had no way to know if Keith was just outside the bathroom’s door, waiting.

No point on dwelling on it now.

Lance washes himself, muscles relaxing under the steaming water. He takes his time, despite his heart currently being on its own personal hurricane inside him.

Is he going to throw up?

Lance purses his lips and looks to the ceiling in thought before huffing.

Nope, not throwing up, just nerves.

Nerves.

Yeah, because you are totally justified to have nerves after having sex with your best friend who is also your -

That has been established. Moving on.

He turns the shower off, allowing himself a few seconds to breath before nodding. He steps out of the stall, dry himself up with his towel before pulling his pair of boxers on, followed by his pants.

Lance hums quietly to calm himself. It works to soothe him, somewhat, as best as it can in his current situation. He continues to hum under his breath as he uses his towel to wipe the mirror in front of him and his breath hitches at the sight of his own reflection.

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WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU Part 12 full translation

Marriage Registration

4

pages 129-137

6th Division Barracks - Lieutenant’s room.

After they finished submitting their documents to the Higher Order Spirit Rank Administration Bureau earlier than expected, they had quite some time left until the Noble Assembly reception counter was opened which they had to visit next, Renji who was accompanied by Rukia, came to pack things up at his private quarters.

“You haven’t tidied up at all!?”

As soon as she opened the (fusuma) sliding screen, Rukia was dumbfounded​ by the disastrous scene before her.

Surrounding the futon that was laid out at the centre of the room, clothes, books, a soccer ball to muscle training goods, every possible item was scattered about in utter chaos.

“It’s because I was occupied one way or another It couldn’t be helped you know!? There’s a box over there, so you can gradually pack everything in however you want”

“It’s okay to do it however we want? But shouldn’t we consider sorting it out……”

“Nah, right now speed is essential! We’ll sort everything out at our new home!”

Whilst wondering whether or not that would be the reality, Rukia began packing things up off of the floor and into the box.

Officially seated members who are 9th seat or above, are given private rooms within the squad barracks. Most people go to sleep and wake up there, however people wishing to live outside the squad barracks are given a class of housing appropriate to their station. No more than one room of a housing complex is rented out to those up to 3rd seat, but when it comes to captains and vice captains, they are provided with detached housing large enough to be called ‘mansions’.

Until now, Renji was living at the squad barracks, Rukia at the Kuchiki mansion, after the establishment of their marriage they will both utilise that system and move into a mansion together built in the central first sector.

“This looks okay! I’ll tidy up bit by bit later myself. Thanks, Rukia!”

“This is……enough? ……alright”

To Rukia, the place still seemed like it was cluttered, but she convinced herself it’s good enough if the person himself says it’s okay.

“There’s still a little time. Drink some tea or……”

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