i might do an up close of him

anonymous asked:

(Monii) About jikookthrowback ep4 part2&3: Imagine all the 'normal' things that they've done that we haven't witnessed. *dies* Yes, I also think that's Jeon's possessive face. Lol did you see his face when JM sat on his lap in that las Run ep? He looked like he was tryna figure out whether to smile, smirk or be neutral (he failed lol). There's also this other time when JK let JM back up into him but tumblr won't let me link it :/

yes, i’m sure so much more happens behind closed doors that we’ll never know about,or catch a glimpse on, but if we do, it’d be a huge deal for us we might actually die, but for them since it’d be “a casual thing they do regularly” they’d be so chill about it.

about the last run ep, jungkook literally cannot decide wether  to smile he was clearly enjoying it - to smirk (he slightly smirks at the end)- or to remain chill he can’t don’t blame him-

also look at the way he held jimin’s waist and slightly grabbed him(?)pinched him(?) for teasing him by seating on his lap?  or maybe because jimin was being all over jin and he was trying to say: please stop . then slowly dragging his hands down never moving them away from jimin

you aren’t allowed to put the link as it is , but you can do it if you put it without the dots,which you might as well replace by: *

  i’m looking forward to see that gif ^^

I Think I Wanna Marry You...

Pairing: Dean X Reader.

Warnings: none.

S/P/N- Sister’s Preferred Name.

Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?

A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))


Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.

“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.

Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand.  “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Ya’ sure?”

“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.

Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked,  and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.

To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.

“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.

“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”

“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.

A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.”  She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.

“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.

“What’s in Boston?”

“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.

“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”

Dean explains it like it’s so easy.  To him, it is.  Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.

But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.

“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”

“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.

“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.

Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.


“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.

Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.

As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to  he way she’s so awkward around big crowds,  or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.

Because he can’t.

Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.

“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.

Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”

“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”



Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.

Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,

“—I asked Sam?”  She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.

His eyes widen. “Sam?”

“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”

“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“

“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.

Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…


He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy? No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.

 Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?

“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”

“I do.”

Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.

“You think he’ll say no, huh?”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.

“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.

Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”

Another nod.

“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”

Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”

“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”

Y/N  then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.

“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.

“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.

“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”


“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.

She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.

Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.

This is gonna be a hell of a wedding.


I’ve been in my feelings for Dean for the past few weeks so bear with me pls. Also, I’m very excited for this story; more chapters to come, hopefully soon.

As always, likes, re blogs and general feedback is greatly appreciated; if you wanna get updated when I post Part 2 or even just check out some of my other one-shots, feel free to follow.

love how i never notice this...

the three of them lighting up the fireworks, both victor and yuri look like they are enjoying themselves while yurio seems like he doesn’t like the sound they make the dork (considering this might be his first time doing something like this)…

now we see yuri with a face as if he’s trying to say something, and if you look closely you’ll see that yurio is now holding two fireworks while yuri seems to have lost his… yup, yurio just took yuri’s firework and it’s definitely teasing him with it! i can imagine them yelling at each other… all this while victor’s just watching from the sidelines without being able to contain his laughter and joy because of these two…

the frames keep going and now yuri’s actually chasing yurio in order to get back what’s his or just to get revenge on the boy haha, but either way, yuri being 23-24 and yurio being 15-16, depending when this takes place, they are both acting like a pair of little kids, chasing one another, and it’s adorable… of course victor is the same, just enjoying the moment, BECAUSE LOOK AT HIM, seems like he is pretending to fly or just running around making airplane sounds something which wouldn’t surprise me in the least

AND FINALLY WE COULD SAY YURI’S GOT HIS FIREWORK BACK (or he just lighted up another the poor boy), but the point is that the three of them look… happy… letting go, fooling around, being silly or careless, ALL THIS IS GOOD ONCE IN A WHLE, because they may not get another chance.

Just dancing at night, with the sound of fireworks all around them, with sand covering their feet while getting their fancy clothes dirty (i really hope they are doing this at the beach), they don’t care whose watching, because they feel good, and for them that’s enough.

on a side note… yuri’s final dance sequence, i wonder if he’s actually putting a show for victor and yurio, or maybe he is so entranced with the moment he’s no longer conscious he’s being watched

This Will Do

For @ebbthegoatgirl

Merry Christmas, Sadie


I wake up to a mouthful of sweet, golden hair.

           I’m not expecting it and I’m shocked backwards. Impossible, it can’t be.

           And then I remember.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  I remember being so afraid of what I’d begun, of what kind of a door I might have opened – or closed.  I remember him begging me to look him in the eye, of being terrified to let him see exactly how much I need him.

           I remember him extinguishing my fear, kissing me over and over and over again, holding himself above me and making me reach up for him.

           And I did.  Long into the night, I did.

           I would again.

           We must have fallen asleep in each other’s arms, because here I am, gazing into his sleeping face, lightly touching the moles on his cheek next to his eye like I’ve always wanted to.

           Crowley, all the things that I’ve always wanted to do.

           Simon is an unbelievable kind of beautiful up close. He’s the kind of beautiful that is significant from a distance, but if you stare at his features too long, they begin to lose their meaning.  His eyes are just eyes, not Simon’s eyes, until you look away and back again.  It’s like the longer I take in his face, the more I realize I could never possibly get enough.

           Sunlight is drifting into the room, setting his curls aglow, and I remember another thing.

           “Simon,” I whisper, “it’s Christmas.”

           He doesn’t stir.

           I’ve just woken up with Simon Snow in my arms on Christmas morning.

           I grin.  What more could I possibly ask for?

           I press the lightest of kisses to his lips, and he sighs, starting to wake up.  When his eyes flutter open, they meet mine and there’s the slightest moment of confusion before I see that he remembers everything, too.

           And suddenly I’m afraid again.  I’m afraid he’ll have come to his senses.  I’m afraid he’ll push me away and regret everything that happened the night before, from the first kiss to the last.

           “Morning,” he mumbles, and I feel him stretch under the covers, his feet lightly brushing mine.

           “Hi,” is all I can say.

           For a long time, all we do is lie there, facing each other, inches away, searching each other’s eyes, thinking all the things we wish we could say.

           “What’s today?” he asks suddenly, his brow furrowing.

           “December twenty-fifth,” I murmur.

           His face lights up.  “Christmas Day,” he breathes.

           A pang of guilt hits me suddenly.  “I don’t have anything for you,” I admit.  

           I probably shouldn’t be guilty.  After all, he did sort of show up unexpectedly, I haven’t really had time to prepare, and anyway we were still enemies.  Reluctant allies.  Until… well…

           Simon snakes his hand out from under the blankets, and he touches my cheek, as gently as though I were a butterfly.

           “This will do,” he whispers, and there’s something in his eyes.  Certainty. A promise.

           I want to kiss him.  So badly.


           He must see it on my face because he doesn’t wait for me to decide.  He kisses me with a softness that I didn’t think he was capable of.  I almost want to laugh because his mouth tastes sleepy, drowsy, and it’s not the fiery heat he kissed me with last night and it’s so new.

           Simon Snow, the Chosen One.

           You’re meant to kill me, not kiss me.

           He laughs and I realize that I’ve spoken aloud, whispering against his lips.  “Chosen One,” he scoffs quietly, “just this once, I’d like to choose for myself.”

           My heart nearly sinks because for some reason I think he’s going to change his mind, but to my relief he joins our mouths again, and I wonder if it will always be this way, if I’ll always doubt that my luck could turn, that a boy like him could ever love a boy like me.  I wonder if he’d keep kissing me if he knew how afraid I was.

           “What would you choose?” I dare to ask when we pause for breath.

           He grins at me like I’ve always wanted him to. “You, of course.”




           “That’s not very smart,” I tell him, “you might want to think about that.”

           “I don’t think,” he reminds me.

           “That’s for the best,” I mutter ruefully, “if you did, you’d run as far from me as you could.”

           His face goes solemn, and he takes my chin in his hand, not letting me look anywhere but into his eyes.

           “Baz,” he murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere, because it turns out I like you a lot and now you won’t be able to get rid of me.  I don’t care how crazy it is.”  He smirks. “Now shut up and let me give you your Christmas present.”

           I’m laughing against his lips at how ridiculous he is, how ridiculous all of this is, and I move my mouth to those three little moles by his eye, pressing my hands into the small of his back, peppering his face with kisses.

           Crowley, all the things I’ve wanted to do.

           And now I can.

AU where Andrew is an assassin sent to kill Neil and Neil keeps avoiding his attempts because of really stupid shit (he leans down to tie his shoelace when Andrew shoots at him, spills someone else’s coffee so he gives them his poisoned one as an apology, etc.) so finally Andrew decides he’s going to have to get close to him in order to kill him and ends up falling in love with him.

And when the inevitable, “I was sent to kill you” speech comes Neil’s just like… “Yeah, do you wanna go get something to eat?” and Andrew’s like… “I’ve been trying to kill you. Do you understand that? My god, I might kill you right now for being so fucking stupid.” And Neil just shrugs and says, “Everyone’s trying to kill me. It’s no big deal.”

Minho cheering you on even in the scorch
  • Y/n: Well great, we're all going to be running around this hell hole till we finally die of a heatstroke.
  • Minho: Keep close to me, my coolness might help.
  • Y/N: Shut up Min I'm not in the mood. I can't die yet, I've got so much left to do.
  • Minho: Like kissing Newt?
  • Y/n: *blushes* Keep it down!
  • Minho: Aah I understand, you're scared if you kiss him he'll comment about your chapped up lips.
  • Y/N: You're horrible.
  • Minho: Actually I have a plan, pretend to faint from dehydration. We'll make Newt give you water mouth to mouth. Then your dried lips will be acceptable.
  • Y/N: ....That's not really a kiss Minho.
  • Minho: Yea well, you could always wake up and go all 'You saved my life!' And give him a proper kiss.
  • Thomas: Does anyone have water? Newt fainted, I think he's dehydrated.
  • Minho: Well, the tables have turned! Pucker up shank!
It took Peter a long time to make up his mind. Chris tried to persuade him to stay. I knew it was a possibility that he’d leave because Doctors tend to do three years. I thought that he might want to opt out, rather than go through the trauma of a change in command and maybe leaving a year later anyway. But I think he came close to staying.
—  Steven Moffat on Peter leaving Doctor Who (Broadcast Now)

To the one who loves him next,

If he can’t stop cracking jokes, just laugh along with what he says. You don’t even have to know what he’s saying, it’s probably hilarious anyway.

If he keeps calling you at the ungodly hours at night, pick up the phone. He’s probably stressed but when he hears your voice, it will fade away.

He will make a bunch of childish innuendos about god knows what and you’ll get used to it eventually then you’ll find out ways to add on to them.

This boy might not make the best decisions, but I was one of them so who am I to judge.

He’ll want to go to countless parties and dance and drink; but just make sure to keep a close eye on him or he’ll do something that won’t be good for the both of you.

He has a birth mark on his hand that he absolutely hates, so hold that hand a little tighter.

Don’t get too mad at him if he forgets your birthday or anniversary, he isn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he is yours.

So treat him like a prince and you’ll be his princess; and if he treats you like a game, show him how it’s played.

—  The Girl You Won’t Know // a.a. // t.j.h.g.
I Love You - Cassian Andor
  • Anon asked: Happy belated (?) Birthday! I know this might be too soon but, I was wondering if u would like to write smth about Cassian? Smth like, realizing his feelings for the reader and him getting jealous as the reader gets really close w Bodhi. Thank u :3
  • Anon asked: happy birthday!!! sorry to bother you but can you do a cassian andor x reader where the reader and cassian are very close and secretly like each other. And when some guy is flirting with the reader, and cassian gets possessive and jealous and they ends up admitting his feelings. Female reader. sorry if it wasn’t clear! Hope your day was great!
  • I combined these, as they’re really similar. Enjoy!

“Are you okay?” you asked the pilot—Bodhi Rook, you thought—attempting to catch your breath as the ship took off from the ground. You had made it, barely, before the cloud of dust engulfed you, but you weren’t out of the water yet. But you let that part up to Cassian and K-2SO, who were more than capable pilots.

Bodhi nodded. “I… I think so, yes. Thank you.”

You reached out and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “You’re safe now.” The ship rocked as a piece of rubble hit the side of it. “Although I do suppose safe is a relative term.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is. You’re very kind.”

You fell into a quiet conversation with Bodhi the pilot as Cassian and Kay-Tu navigated out of Jedha airspace and into safety. He seemed like a nice enough guy—he had supported the Empire at first, but the more he had worked with them, the worse his opinion had gotten. Finally, when he was assigned to Galen Erso’s command, he found a way to keep himself safe and do the right thing, which was what landed him in a cell in Saw Garrera’s hideout.

You hadn’t noticed Cassian enter the compartment, but when he signed off from the transmitter with a firm “Understood,” you perked up. Cassian Andor had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You had joined the rebellion together, gone through training together, and even rose through the ranks together at the same pace. He was the only comforting presence in the entire galaxy for you, now, so when he glared at you before barking orders to Kay-Tu, you were taken aback.

“Is that where my father is?” Jyn questioned, looking at Cassian expectantly.

“I think so.” Cassian answered, his eyes still on you. They were dark and difficult to read. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

“So you’re Galen’s daughter,” Bodhi said, addressing Jyn for the first time.

Jyn looked shocked, but hopeful. “You know him?”

Bodhi nodded. “I’m Bodhi, the pilot.”

“You brought the message?”

“Yes, your father…” Bodhi paused. You could tell it was difficult for him to speak of whatever it was he was trying to say. Gently, you squeezed his hand, silently saying that it was okay to go on. “He said I could get right by my self. He said I could make it right if I was brave enough and listened to what was in my heart. Do something about it.” He sighed, smiling sadly at you. “I guess it was too late.”

“It wasn’t too late!” you protested. Cassian’s brow furrowed and he turned away from you.

“Seems pretty late to me.”

“No!” Jyn looked around at the group in the hold. “We can beat the people who did this!”

When you landed on Eadu, Cassian suggested taking Bodhi and going scouting to see what was happening at the base. Just as they were about to leave, you stood up.

“I’m going with you,” you said matter-of-factly, throwing a blue coat over yourself and attempting to exit the U-Wing.

Cassian shook his head. “You should stay here with them.” He pushed you back into the ship. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I am coming with you, Captain,” you replied flatly, elbowing your way past him and into the rain. He rolled his eyes, but said nothing else.

The trek through the mountains was relatively silent. Only Bodhi would talk to you, and even then, Cassian would glare daggers at him, so after a few attempts, even that stopped.

Eventually, after it seemed like Bodhi was leading you on a wild goose chase, you got into what he said was a decent enough position. The three of you knelt behind a large rock outcropping that hopefully hid you from the sightlines of the Empire. The station sprawled out in front of you, shiny because of the rain and all lit up like they were expecting someone important. Several men were lined up on the landing pad in a neat line.

“You see Erso out there?” Cassian asked Bodhi, handing him a pair of binoculars.

Bodhi was silent as he scanned the area. You could tell Cassian was getting ready to give up, when finally, the pilot whispered, “That’s him. That’s him, Galen, in the dark suit!”

Cassian nodded, taking the binoculars back. “Get down there and find us a ride out of here,” he commanded, nodding toward the station. At Bodhi’s protest, he shot him a cross look. “You heard me.”

“But you said we came up here just to have a look!” Bodhi looked quite confused and a little betrayed.

“I’m here. I’m looking. Now go! Hurry!” Cassian shooed him away. Confused, Bodhi looked to you and you shrugged, giving him a soft smile.

When the defected pilot was gone, you pulled Cassian’s shoulder around so that he was facing you. “What the hell was all that about?” you questioned, crossing your arms.

“I have orders to kill Erso,” Cassian said frankly, turning back around and peering through the scope of his rifle.

“Okay,” you stared at the back of his rain-soaked head as if it was going to give you more answers. “Not what I was talking about, but good to know.”

“What were you talking about, then?” Cassian’s tone was sharp and dry. It stung a little to hear the man you considered to be your best friend, who you looked up to and respected more than anyone else, talking to you as if you were garbage.

“I…” you faltered, unsure if you even wanted to broach the subject, if it was even worth it. Finally, you decided that yes, it was worth it, if only to figure out why Cassian was being such an asshole to both you and Bodhi. “I meant in the ship. You being an asshole.”

“I am not being an asshole.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, Captain Andor. Looking at me like I have eight heads. Not talking to me except when you’re bitter. If it’s something I did, just tell me.” You sighed. “I hate when we’re fighting, and I hate it even worse when I have no idea why.” Cassian was silent and unmoving, and you weren’t sure if he was even paying attention to you any more. Offhandedly, you noted that his finger was nowhere near the trigger, but he still seemed to be looking through the scope. You sighed. “Look, Cassian, you know that you’re my best friend. And you know that you can tell me anything. No matter what. So, if you’re upset with me for whatever reason, I deserve to know so that I can fix it. I want to fix it. Please.”

Again, he was silent, but now his head was turned slightly in your direction. At least you knew he had heard you. But then again, that meant that he was making the conscious decision to not answer you, which frustrated you more than him being angry with you.

Deciding you had endured enough, you started to push yourself off the ground. “Fine,” you stated flatly. “If you aren’t going to talk to me, that’s fine. But I’m going back to the ship. It’s cold and damp and I really don’t want to sit here on a rock with you all night if you aren’t going to at least acknowledge the fact that I’m sitting beside you, so… Call Kay-Tu when you’re coming back, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”


“I’m sorry for treating you like that. I just… I was not thinking straight.”

You crouched back down beside him. “Cassian, what are you talking about?”

He sighed and moved so that he was lying on his side, facing you. “I saw you talking to the pilot and I got very upset. I’m sorry.”

You reached out, grabbing his hand. “I was just trying to be nice to him. He’s been through a lot these past few days.”

“I know. I know.” Gently, he ran his thumb across your knuckles. “I just… I cannot help it.” You raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “Oh, come on. You know what I’m trying to say. Don’t make me say it.”

“No, Cassian, I really don’t.” You did. Of course you did. You just wanted to hear him say it.

“We’ve been friends for so long,” Cassian began, looking just over your shoulder. “I haven’t wanted to say anything because I didn’t want it to change things between us, you know?” You nodded. “I think I love you.”

The left corner of your lips twitched up into a crooked smile. “Well, then. Good.” You nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way.” You squeezed his hand firmly, causing him to meet your eyes. “I love you, too. Now, shouldn’t you be watching what’s going on down there?”

Cassian grinned at you, bringing you hand up to his lips and kissing your knuckles before rolling over and bringing his focus back to what was happening on the landing pad. You smiled gently to yourself, gazing down at the station. You hadn’t even acknowledged that you loved Cassian until you said it to him, but you were glad. It felt right. And, best of all, he was still your best friend.

J/C as Exes Part 8: You Can Do Anything, But Not Everything

Hello, my darlings. Here’s the next chapter of the Exes AU. Claire’s got a bit of making up to do after what happened in Chapter 7 (which you can find HERE). I have to say a HUGE thank you to my Chief Editor @akb723 and to my beautiful rockstar ‘twin’ @thescarlettpeacock for both of their amazing help getting this chapter together and polished. Hope you like it!

I combed my fingers through his damp hair, watching while he slept. His head was on my lap, body curled tightly around mine. Just watching him, I wanted to weep. Now that I studied him closely, I could suddenly see what had been lost.

He might be asleep, but he was far from being at peace. A frown deepened the lines on his face, making him look a decade older than he was. There was a thin scar that followed the line of his left eyebrow, something I’d never noticed before. A near-forgotten habit had me brushing the hair from his cheek. It got no response, not like he had before.

The fire in the hearth at Lallybroch burned low, casting a warm light over the room. Jamie’s head was on my chest, his mouth slightly open. I brushed the hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear, and his lips pulled into a sweet smile.

“He used to do that as a bairn,” Jenny said.

“Did he?”

“Aye. Mam and I would take turns to see who could make him do it while he slept in his cot.”

I tried it again and sure enough, he smiled in his sleep before nuzzling closer to my breast.

“What do you suppose it means?”

Jenny sighed.

“I think it means he’s happy.”

Was he happy now? Not at the moment, plagued as he was by his demons. Perhaps he was a little comforted,but it didn’t seem like much that I’d done for him; but maybe it was enough to start with.

The last several hours replayed in my mind, over and over as I lay silently beside him.

His hand slid into mine and he allowed me to help him to his feet. Surveying his bedroom, I began making a list in my mind of what needed to be done. It was too dark, I needed to let the sunshine in. And everything needed to be cleaned.

“Alright,” I said, coming to a conclusion. “First things first. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He nodded slowly, like he understood me but was unsure how to follow through with it. I got the feeling he didn’t want to be touched again, so I kept my hands at my sides. I was still drastically underprepared to help him with this, but I’d be damned if I left him to deal with it alone.

“Come with me, darling,” I said as gently as I could. “That’s it, one foot at a time.”

I lead him to the shower with my voice, pleased by his progress.

“Now we need to get you in the shower. Could you take your underpants off?”

Almost mechanically, he stripped off his soiled garment and stood shivering while I let the water warm. Then, without thinking, I too removed my clothes and watch. He hardly noticed.

“Come on,” I said gently. “In you go.”

He stood beneath the water as it washed the stench away, his body trembling though the water was warm. I lathered his soap in my hands and reached out to help clean his body. My fingertip had barely touched his chest when he flinched back into the wall. His eyes, wild with terror, rolled around the enclosed space.

“Easy, Jamie. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be alright. Look at me, Jamie. Don’t see anything else. Just see me.”

Slowly, his eyes moved back to my face and locked in place. His body was still rigid with his reaction, but the pulse in his neck had begun to slow.

“I’m going to touch you now, alright? Just to clean you up. That’s all.”

He clenched his jaw a few times before he nodded. This time when I touched his chest, he only flinched rather than jump away. With the cleaning of his body done, I began to wash his hair. I worked the knots out of it and massaged his scalp, trying to help him relax. Thankfully he’d finally stopped shaking. I didn’t stop speaking to him while I cleaned his hair, since he could no longer keep me in sight. It seemed to help - or at least I hoped it did.

My heart shattered at the sight of him like this. In all the time I’d known him he had been so strong and sure of himself, like nothing could shake his foundation. But now that I had seen beneath the surface of that, I saw that foundation was cracked; not broken altogether, but neither was it whole.

“I’m here, Jamie,” I said as he leaned into my hands.

I held his face as I rinsed his hair.

“I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Now that he was clean, he looked a little better. I put both of my hands flat on my chest. Again, his body flinched, but a little less than the time before. His heart was racing, but his breathing was beginning to slow.

“Is there something I can do, Jamie?”

He shook his head. After a while, I turned the water off and helped him out of the shower. I wrapped myself in a towel first, then wrapped him. I nudged him to sit down on the toilet seat while I combed his hair and helped him dry off. His color still wasn’t quite right, but he seemed to relax a little more. Though I had precious little experience with veterans suffering from PTSD, the healer in me took this to be a good sign.

“I need to get you clean clothes,” I said softly. “Stay here. I’ll just be a minute or two.”

I waited until he gave me a weak nod before I dressed hastily and went to fetch his own clothes. I grabbed what I hoped would be comfortable for him and went back to where he waited.

“Here we are. Can you dress yourself, Jamie?”

“Mmhm,” he muttered.

That was the first verbal response I’d gotten from him since helping him out of his flashback. It wasn’t much, but it was something and it made me hopeful. Once he was dressed in fresh clothes, which had to feel a little better, I lead him out to the couch. He sank onto the it, exhausted. I moved with a speed I only experienced when I was in surgery and began to clean his flat.

“I’m going to fix you a strong cup of tea and clean up a bit, ok? But I’m not going anywhere. I’m still here, love.”

He nodded distractedly as I moved to the kitchen, filling and setting the kettle to boil. While it warmed, my mind began to wander aimlessly. It settled on nothing in particular, it just went sort of blank. The kettle went off and the sound ripped me from my empty thoughts. I got his tea ready with two lumps of sugar, knowing his body needed the energy after an ordeal like that. While it cooled a little, I began scrubbing down the counters and rinsing out the sink before taking it over to him. I’d set everything to rights earlier, but I thought everything being truly clean would help.

“Drink your tea, darling. I’m going to go and put your sheets in the wash, alright? I’ll be away five minutes.”


I stripped the bed down hastily and threw everything into the wash. The mess on the floor would take some work, but I cleaned up as much as I could before returning to him. I was afraid to leave him alone too long.

Back in the front room, I watched him sip the tea. It seemed to bring a little color back to his cheeks, giving me some comfort.

“Okay, darling,” I said, easing onto the couch beside him. “Everything’s all cleaned up. How are you doing?”

“Better,” he said, voice cracking.

“That’s good. Would you like some more tea?”

He shook his head, taking one last gulp before setting the cup on the floor.

“Are you hungry, love? Cold? Is there anything I can get for you?”

Jamie took a deep breath then, his shoulders sagging.

“Just… Tired. So verra tired.”

“I don’t think your mattress is sanitary at the moment. This pulls out into a bed, doesn’t it?”


“Get up for a moment, I’ll get us sorted.”

He did, slowly and I thought I heard him groan. It took a little maneuvering, but I got the bed unfolded and the sheets set to right. It didn’t look terribly comfortable, but it was better than nothing. I eased myself onto it and motioned for him to join me, a moment’s hesitation, he did.

He lay stiffly beside me, as though he’d been carved from marble. Moment by moment, he relaxed and put his head in my lap.

“Come lay your head, man,” I whispered, carefully running my fingers through his hair.

He exhaled deeply and finally relaxed for the first time since I’d arrived.

It was quiet for several minutes while I tried to figure out what to do next. Talking had seemed to help him a bit, so I poured through my memories to find something to talk about.

“Perhaps you and I go back to Loch Ness again, stay at that little bed and breakfast right on the loch. Balacalditch, wasn’t it?”

“Balachladaich” he corrected.

“You know, I saw a young boy on the street just the other day and he reminded me of that lad we met at the Loch. Do you remember? He came and said hello to us every single morning, always laughing. Do you remember that morning he asked if we were going to have a baby like his mum and dad? I’ve never seen you turn so pink in all my life…” I laughed a little at the memory of Jamie’s embarrassed face. “I thought your ears would catch fire, they had turned so red. We had to explain that the stork hadn’t left us one yet.”

I took a long breath.

“I remember when you took me to Lallybroch for the first time after that. We climbed the tower and watched that beautiful sunset right over the valley…”

I continued to speak for what felt like hours, talking of nothing and everything. He slept lightly, his features stiff with worry and pain, the opposite to the boy I’d found sleeping on his sister’s couch at Lallybroch, face angelic, soft and without care. He had lines now, around his eyes I’d never noticed before, making him look distinguished, mature. I didn’t want to think of the nights and worries that etched them into his skin. Looking down at his sleeping form, I realized once again just how much he had changed.

I hadn’t turned any of the lights off since we’d laid down, I didn’t think it would help banish the nightmares from his mind to remain in darkness.

I leaned against the back of the couch to give him as much room as I could. A pull out bed wasn’t really designed for a six-foot Scot, but we would make do. I’d pulled one of the small pillows onto my lap for him to rest his head on, keeping us both comfortable. He slept like a child, his legs pulled up tight against his chest, trying to be as small as possible. His arms were wrapped tight around my legs, his breathing had become heavy and even in his sleep.

I felt my own eyes falling heavy with sleep, but couldn’t tear myself away from watching over him. In an effort to wake myself, I messaged Ian.

I can’t say he’s okay, because he isn’t. But he’s sleeping and calm. You need to tell me about his other episodes, Ian. I can’t lose him again. Will update you more tomorrow. Claire x

As I pressed send, Jamie moved slightly and my heart leaped in fear at the thought of him falling into the abyss of another nightmare. Instead, he moved slightly and swiftly fell asleep once more.

I knew I should begin reading, trying to find out anything I could about PTSD based panic attacks. Message boards filled with soldiers home from war zones filled the pages, friends and family discussing methods and support options. Those that conquered their fear filled memories, and others that battled daily. This wasn’t an easy road, not for him and not for me. Ian had been right when he’d told me Jamie would depend on me if I stayed. I had become his pillar of strength, and I needed to be exactly that. No more running, no more fear. Randall had cast a darkness over his soul, leaving a shadow hanging over the man I had known so intimately before. We had brought light to one another before, I could do it again for us both. James Fraser was worth more to me than I could admit, and I had to prove it.

We Have Rules For A Reason [Chapter 11]

Chapter 11 of We Have Rules For a Reason

Ch1  Ch2  Ch3  Ch4  Ch5  Ch6  Ch7  Ch8  Ch9  Ch10

Series Genre: AU/Smut/Fluff/Angst at times

The car came to a screeching halt just inches from you as your limp body hit the pavement hard.

You heard Mark’s voice screaming for you as he wrapped you up in his arms, holding you closely to him.

Keep reading

I have a few questions.

You don’t bring a casual girlfriend all the way over from the States to be your date to something as big as this.  So if she’s more than that to him, then when has he had the time to build this relationship to this level.  And if he has managed to do just that bts, shouldn’t he be happy she’s there with him on this night of nights?  Wouldn’t he at least want to sit with her in the car?  I mean, it might be another three months before date #7.  You’d think they’d want to make the most of it.

Would Steven Cree be so insensitive to the feelings of MM and T to suggest that Cait wanted a Sam Heughan blow up doll for her birthday?

If Cait is his best friend and they’re so close and they have such trust, then shouldn’t he be smiling at her win?

I don’t know.  The whole thing smacks of Monte Carlo to me.  The question I’m wrestling with tonight is not ‘Are they really with these people?’, but ‘Am I really this delusional?’

Gather round me any of you who ship still.  It might be a rough few days.

anonymous asked:

Your writing is so cute!!! it makes my heart ache aha i'm so lonely anyways could you write a head cannon for the RFA react to MC that does aerial silks??

Oh thank you love ! And thank you for your request! I hope you’ll feel better, so i hope you like it! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧


  • He’s so scared
  • Like, really.
  • He’s scared that you might hurt yourself, he can’t even think about it…
  • But when he sees your performance, he’s so surprised by it
  • How can you do that?!
  • Maybe he’ll want to learn that!
  • Ok, he’ll give up in five minutes.
  • He’s still trembling, of fear because of that danger…But he’s smiling so much too!
  • He cries a little, this is so beautiful MC!
  • He clapped so loud, that he almost made the people that were close to him be deaf
  • He just loves you so much!


  • Ok, he’s excited by it, a little worried…But he knows that you’ll not get hurt.
  • Zen’s protective, but he trust on your talents.
  • And damn MC, you look good right now!
  • When he saw you performing, he was in shock.
  • That’s so beautiful, but hey…
  • Everybody is looking at you…
  • His girlfriend…
  • Ok, this time he’ll let this pass, but maybe you should wear pants next time.
  • When you finish he runs to you, with a bouquet, kissing your face, telling you how good you were.
  • He’ll keep hugging you, just to reassure people that he’s your boyfriend…BUT he wants to be close to you too!
  • Maybe you can teach him that? That was very artistic, and he’s good at everything!
  • And he’ll have the best teacher that he could ask for!


  • Ok, let’s see if this is art.
  • Like Zen’s performances, shows, everything!
  • When you started, she’s just too focused on you.
  • Her mouth is open.
  • Your moves, this is just too beautiful, you have such a passion!
  • This is so good! She’ll have to make a fan club for you!
  • She’ll film it all, so she can watch all this later!
  • When you finish, starts to talk so much about how great your performance was!
  • You can’t even understand, she’s talking so fast!
  • She’ll be so supportive now, your number 1 fan! And she’ll try to drag as many people she can do this fan club!
  • She even forgot Zen…!
  • Your number one fan is so devoted to you right now!


  • Ok, he’ll see your performance and not be looking at Elizabeth’s photos on his phone.
  • He did this in other people’s performances.
  • But when you’re there, he just can’t take his eye off you.
  • You have such a passion…This is just…
  • Pure perfection.
  • You’re pure perfection.
  • His heart is so, so fast.
  • He’s so worried that you fall or something like that, but he believes your potential.
  • But he has already people that will help you if something goes wrong…This is his secret.
  • When the performance end, he’ll clap, with a big smile on his face.
  • After that, he goes to you, kisses you with such passion that you’re surprised.
  • Jumin will want to support you and your talent as much as he can.
  • A performance so beautiful like that must be seen by other people!


  • He doesn’t even care, he’ll scream so much on the entire performance.
  • He’ll annoy people, yelling at them
  • He’ll keep commenting how good you were at this.
  • People just want him to shut up!
  • You almost lose your focus by it, and he notices it
  • So he’ll be quiet.
  • He doesn’t want anything bad to happen.
  • When you’re finished, he’ll clap so loud, and scream, and  whistle so loud too
  • He’ll run to you and hugs you so tightly and spins with you!
  • He’ll try to put a silk on his bunker because he’s sure that you wouldn’t invite him again LOL
  • And he’ll the video of your performance that he secretly filmed on youtube!
  • Yes, it’ll be a spam!
First Date

AN: A Rosie Story… with a wallop of Overprotective Parental Figures and a side of Sherlolly. :)

‘You’re on my foot!’

‘Move it then!’

‘You move!’


‘Ow, did you seriously just elbow me out of the way?!’

‘Shut up, you’re too loud! They might hear you!’

I’m too loud?!’

‘Yes! Damn it, now they’re looking over here. Get back and shut up!’

John held his breath and closed his eyes, his heart thundering against his ribs. If they were found… Oh, he dreaded the thought. Praying desperately for deliverance (or maybe a nice black hole to be sucked into), he pressed his back against the tree.

Beside him, and hogging the majority of the tree, Sherlock was doing the same.

After counting to 50, John peeled one eye open, then the other. ‘Is it safe?’ He whispered.

Sherlock quirked one eyebrow. ‘We shall see.’

They both turned to cautiously peer around the tree. John frowned. ‘Where did they go?’

‘Right behind you.’

Both John and Sherlock jumped and whirled around.

With her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes, at this moment, Rosie Watson was the embodiment of furious. Beside her, Victor Holmes was glaring a hole into his father, his hands clenched at his sides.

‘We can explain!’ John exclaimed.

‘We can?’ Sherlock turned to him in disbelief. John elbowed him sharply and the detective grunted, suddenly catching on.

He nodded eagerly and rubbed his bruised ribs. ‘I mean, we can! Absolutely! We were-’

‘Shut it, dad,’ Victor snapped. ‘We know you were both spying on us. You trained us to be aware of our surroundings. Did you think we didn’t know you were following us all day?’

‘And after you promised not to,’ Rosie joined in, crossing her arms.

Realising there was no way out, Sherlock and John exchanged guilty looks.

‘We’ve already called Aunt Molly.’ The colour drained from Sherlock’s face. ‘She says to tell you there’s a nice surprise waiting for you at home.’

From the way she said ‘nice’ and smiled wickedly, John was inordinately glad he was not Sherlock. But then, Rosie turned her glare onto him. And suddenly, he wished he were anyone else.

To his growing unease, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she lifted her chin, grabbed Victor’s hand, and they marched away.

Well, he was in deep trouble.

Sherlock’s mobile buzzed and he hesitantly pulled it out.

‘It’s from Mycroft,’ he said, reading it quickly. He grimaced. ‘Apparently, Victor also noticed the CCTV cameras watching them.’

‘We’re all in deep shit, aren’t we?’ John groaned and rubbed his face.

Sherlock chuckled. ‘Oh, yes.’

John leaned back against the tree. ‘They’re too young to be on their own.’

‘John, Rosie is 17 and Victor is not that far behind her.’ Sherlock gripped his shoulder and smirked. ‘It was only their first date. And from what we saw, only a little hand holding happened.’

Hand holding?’ John repeated, incredulous. A deadly rage welled up inside him and he seethed, ‘When you have a daughter, then you can lecture me all you want. But when you’re the father of a hands-y, libidinous boy, you don’t get to have an opinion!’

Shoving away from the tree, he stomped out of the park.

‘Oi, that’s my son, your godson, you’re maligning!’ Sherlock barked and hurried to overtake him.


From their bench on the far side of the park, Rosie and Victor watched as their fathers bickered and disappeared back into the city.

Victor shook his head and wrapped an arm around Rosie, who was still tense and wound up. She slowly relaxed and leaned against him.

‘They’re never going to change, are they?’

Victor chuckled and kissed her head. ‘Nope. We might as well get used to it.’

Rosie pouted.

It was bad enough that her father was an overprotective, Army Doctor, with a glare that had scared off every single boy who had dared darken their doorstep. Add in an Uncle with a fascination for murder and an evil grin that had sent one potential suitor to a therapist and an Aunt whose adorable smile hid a stomach of steel - not to mention, the all-knowing Mycroft who made the idea of privacy absolutely laughable -  and Rosie had become the most undateable girl in all of London!

Only Victor had passed muster (because he had been born into this crazy family). And even then, they wouldn’t stop interfering!

Victor threaded his fingers with hers and brushed his thumb soothingly over her palm. He hummed a soft melody in her ear. Slowly, her scowl faded. Here, in her best friend’s arms, suddenly it all didn’t seem so overwhelming. She felt safe and protected, cherished, ready to face the world outside of them.

Was it really any wonder she’d fallen for him?

Turning her head, her nose brushed his chin. His breath fell on her cheek, warm, and he stopped humming. Suddenly, the air was thick between them. Heavy with anticipation.

She could feel his heartbeat accelerate against her fingertips and he licked his lips nervously. She did the same and looked into his eyes, his beautiful green and blue eyes. She felt as though she were drowning in them. Her own eyes fell closed and she held her breath in anticipation.

But then nothing happened.

She peeked one eye open.

Victor was staring at her, wearing his ‘processing’ face. Rolling her eyes, she took matters into her own hands and closed the distance between them, her free hand reaching up to curl around his neck and hold him close as her lips pressed against his.

He started in surprise. Then he sunk into the kiss, his eyes falling shut and his arm tugging her against him.

It may not have been the perfect first date.

But to Rosie and Victor, it was the perfect beginning.

Things Trump Might Not Know That I Want Him to Know

Most of his own party hates him and thinks he is absurd and dangerous.

Most of the congresspeople who defend him are doing so only because they are hoping he will hold up long enough to let them enact their own agenda.

Most of the people who work with him, closely, think he is an absurd buffoon, useful only as a blunt club-puppet to get their agenda passed. They do not respect him.

Nearly everyone in every branch of the government who nominally supports him would rather have Pence as the President.

New York will hate him forever. He will claim he doesn’t care, but he does, a lot, and it will hate him forever.

California will hate him forever. He will claim he doesn’t care, but he does, a lot, and it will hate him forever.

He will never have the respect of most of the people whose respect he craves.

All of the people whose respect he craves either hate him or are constantly rolling their eyes at him or are laughing at him or both.

He will never have the respect of a single other world leader. Even most other populist-nationalist-racist types all think he’s a goofball and a lightweight.

Putin is laughing at him, hard, all the time.

Hollywood will hate him forever. He will claim he doesn’t care, but he does, a lot, and it will hate him forever.

He is not very smart, and does not have the best words.

He cannot form a recognizable English sentence.

He is embarrassing.

Opposite Day (Carry On Countdown Nov 25)

So, this is an AU in which Simon gets kidnapped instead of Baz. Also, he comes back before Baz’s mom comes through the veil. I hope you enjoy! @carryon-countdown


Baz knew his friends were staring at him. He also knew they suspected he had completely lost his mind. Neither of those things really mattered to him at the moment however. Simon Snow, his roommate and permanent pain in his side, had been gone for weeks.
At first Baz had enjoyed the absence, finally sleeping with the windows closed and waking up at reasonable hours. After a while though it freaked him out. He began to suspect that Snow might be off doing secretive chosen one business with the Mage. Eventually however, Baz realized that he might not ever see Simon Snow again. For some reason this idea bothered him.
He looked up at Dev’s concerned face.
Dev pointed to Baz’s plate. “You haven’t eaten anything.”
Baz rolled his neck painfully. Lately he’d had trouble sleeping without Snow’s constant snoring. He attempted to feel the hunger he knew must be there but couldn’t.
“Not hungry, I just need to think.”
“About Simon Snow?” Niall sneered.
Baz frowned. “He could be a real threat if the Mage has him lurking about the old families.”
“Or he could have dropped out.” Dev supplied.
“Or he could be dead. Ever think of that?” Niall spat.
Baz’s hand froze around his water cup. He hadn’t considered the possibility of Snow being anywhere else except by the Mage’s side. But he supposed it was possible Snow was trapped somewhere or, like Niall had said, dead. He felt his stomach dip nervously.
Baz was surprised at his own reaction. What did he care if Snow had gotten himself killed? One less nuisance for Baz to worry about. Yet, he couldn’t get rid of the gnawing concern unfurling in his chest.
At that moment he heard a cup shatter across the room. Baz turned to see Penelope Bunce staring openmouthed at something at the front of the room.
Simon?” She whispered the name, but Baz’s sensitive hearing picked it up easily.
He swung around to see Simon Snow walking with his head down. His clothing was torn and stained in places. He looked much thinner than Baz had ever seen him and his curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Baz realized in disgust that Snow must have run directly here instead of cleaning up after returning from who knew where.
Snow rushed up to Bunce and crushed her into his arms. It was a strange sight as Snow usually shied away from Bunce’s maternal touches. Baz watched with a kind of nagging irritation as Snow cried into her shoulder.
“Penny…I had to see you…right away.”
“Simon where have you been?”
Snow’s eyes searched the room and landed on Baz. His expression was unreadable but his focus was unmistakable.
“I can’t talk about it right now.”
Baz was on his feet before he could even think about it. He strode over to the little reunion and pushed himself in front of Snow.
“Why not Snow?”
He looked around warily and leaned into Baz’s ear.
“Try to be discreet. Do you want them all to know?” He hissed.
Baz felt himself go cold as he realized what he had done. Without thinking, he’d entered a conversation from across the room. Nobody with normal hearing could have done it. A vampire could though. But why would Snow protect him?
He shook his head and sneered, backing away from Snow.
“Whatever happened to you…it wasn’t my fault.”
Snow looked down. “I didn’t say it was.”
Baz wanted to yell at him for being away so long. To demand to know why Snow couldn’t talk about where he’d been in front of Baz. He wanted tot do all of this and a whole lot of other things he couldn’t put his finger on.
Instead he did none of them.
“Well, welcome back Chosen One.”
He stormed off and threw the dining room doors open. Simon Snow might be the one to kill him some day, but he would never get the better of Basilton Pitch.


Simon walked into their room very late at night. He had spent most of the day debriefing Penny and Agatha. The rest he had spent actively avoiding his roommate. Quietly he settled on his mattress, still not having changed out of his raggedy summer clothes.
He hadn’t been able to tell Penny anything in front of Baz because it had been his Aunt that was responsible for his disappearance. For weeks he had been trapped in a basement and tortured by various Pitchs and Grimms. Fiona herself had only in kidnapping him from the train, she said she didn’t like the idea of torture but she wouldn’t stand in the way of the old families’ orders either.
So Simon had retreated into himself during all of the pain and darkness. They had used a dead spot so that Simon couldn’t go off. This had unfortunately meant that Normal torture methods were necessary.
When it had gotten really bad Snow had thought about Baz. Not because he blamed him or hated him. No, Simon had thought of Baz so he could try to keep himself together. To stay whole.
He thought about the way Baz walked confidently through the halls, how his black hair spread like ink spills on his pillow at night, and he thought of his cruel grey eyes.
Simon had thought he might be forced to endure beatings from Baz, that they might include the Pitch heir in their torture games. But they hadn’t. After a while Fiona had slipped in, grimaced at the work they had done, and set him free. He didn’t understand why but Fiona Pitch had given him a second chance.
And it had been clear earlier that Baz had no clue what had been going on. Simon was relieved by this. It wasn’t anything really, Baz would’ve probably been overjoyed if they had included him. But still, it meant that for a little while longer Simon could pretend.
Pretend Baz cared.
Pretend they had a chance to live through this.
Pretend that loving Baz would prove to be anything other than tragic.
Simon shut his eyes and felt the hope and pain rattle through him all at once. For some reason his tormenters had never caught on. If they had wanted to break him all they needed to do was tell him the truth.
You’re in love with Baz Pitch and he’d burn you for even thinking you had a chance.
But they hadn’t done that. So Simon looked once more at the snarky boy across the room and fell asleep for the first time in a long time feeling hopeful.

No Walls... Just Open Skies

(( Got the idea for this from @apocalypticangelimagines post about Daryl’s first night at hilltop))

They’re moving, closing in on me.. I-I can’t breath… I’m suffocating…

“I can’t do this!” Daryl growls as he sits up from his temporary bed. “Doesn’t matter if I am free to leave, it still feels like that fucking cell!” He throws off the blankets and stands up to grab some of the clothes Jesus had given him. They might have been a little tight but they were better then that burlap potato sack he was forced to wear. Once he was dressed he storms out of the small trailer and in to the night.

Breathing in the cool nights air he finely feels at ease. No walls to hold him and only an open sky to with countless stars to keep him company. Daryl throws his head back and takes a few deep breaths. “Looks like another sleepless night.” He thinks as he starts to walk.

He didn’t have where to go even if he knew where anything was. Every one he knew was at Alexandrea except Maggie and Sasha, but sneaking off to their trailer in the middle of the night would look bad. So Daryl just walks up to the small fire that is kept going for those on the night watch and sits down.

As he stares in to the flickering flames he wishes he could forget every thing that has happened over the last few weeks. Abe, Glenn, the cell, that fucking song, all of it gone. Even if it was for one night so he could sleep he would take it. He sighs deeply and rests his head on his knees. One nights sleep, that’s all he wanted.

When the sound of foot steps on gravel meets his ears and he springs to his feet ready to fight. “Whoa easy Daryl, just me..” Jesus says with hands raised to show he’s not a threat. “Just heard you yelling and came to check on you… You alright?” He does the same little head tilt that he did when they first ran in to each other.

Daryl relaxes some. “Can’t sleep. Still feels like I’m trapped in that cell.”

Jesus lets his hands fall back to his side. “Yeah I figured that’s what it was.. Any thing I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got some whiskey.”

Jesus chuckles. “No sorry, Gregory let Simon and his goons take the last bit we had.”

“Figures.” Daryl mumbles as he sits back down in front of the fire.

Jesus stands there for a moment then has an idea. “What if you sleep out side.”

“What out here by the fire?” Daryl asks not looking back at him.

“No I got a better idea but I’ll need your help.” Jesus smiles.

Daryl turns around and stares at him doubtfully. “I ain’t sharin’ a bed with ya if that your idea.”

Jesus shakes his head and laughs. “Just come on. I think you’ll like it.” He turns around and starts walking back to the line of trailers. Daryl watches him for a moment before standing up and following him.

Jesus opens the door to Daryl’s trailer and starts to jerk the sheets off. Daryl walks in just in time to see him lift the bed on to its side. “What the hell you doing?” He ask looking around at the mess Jesus has just made.

“We’re gonna have our selves a camp out.” Jesus says as he starts to pull the bed. “Mind grabbing the other side?”

Daryl is confused but does as he’s asked. “What do you mean a camp out?”

“Well, we’re gonna put you bed on the roof.” They start to work the mattress out of the door. “Then I’ll go get my sleeping bag since you wont share, and together we will sleep on top of your trailer instead of in it. That way you don’t feel trapped.”

Daryl is still a little confused but not at the idea. It made sense, just not the part about him sleeping up there with him but he wasn’t going to say anything. If he was honest, the idea of some one being there helped put him at ease. He wouldn’t have to worry about any one messing with him or thinking him strange. And if that person was Jesus,… He thinks he might actually get some sleep.

The two have to do a bit of work but it doesn’t take long for them to get the bare mattress up on top of his trailer. The few people that were up had shot them some curious glances but didn’t ask. So when they climbed down Daryl went in to get his pillow and sheets while Jesus ran to get his sleeping bag.

When Daryl was finished putting his sheets pack on his bed, he see Jesus’ sleeping bag fly up. A second later Jesus is climbing up. “Had to hunt it down.” He smiles once he’s up there. Daryl sits on his bed and watches as he rolls out his sleeping bag a couple feet from him. He then sides inside with a relaxed sigh. “Well, good night Daryl.” He whispers before rolling on to his side.

Daryl chews on his lip for a moment then climbs under his sheets. “Yeah.. night.” He says back.

It’s calm,.. quite. Nothing but the sound of crickets in the distance and Jesus’ steady breathing a few feet away. No walls closing in on him or stupid song to keep him up. He can relax. A gentle breeze tussles his hair and Daryl closes his eyes to finely get some much needed sleep.

I have always said that while Erin might seem more closed off at first glance, Jay is actually the one struggling to let down his guard more. Yes she has a lot of trust issues but she has opened up to him multiple times, even back at her high school reunion. She still puts the walls up sometimes but she has been working towards letting him in more and more and it has shown a lot this season. So it’s so interesting and exciting to me that now they get to the point where she likely is frustrated with him for not sharing. He is confident and can be flirty and fun but behind that there are a lot of demons he has struggled to keep bottled up. He may seem like the one to offer more at times but in terms of sharing, he has been hiding behind this facade.
Can you tell how excited I am to see this story?

Unexpectedly... Oliver Queen/Reader

Imagine Oliver comforting you after losing your husband and you give him some more news…

Originally posted by feilcityqueen

“Y/N whatever you need… whenever you need it…” Oliver handed you a cup of coffee as he sat down on your couch, “I will be there. I will come running for you.”

You swallowed holding the cup letting your frigid fingers soak up the heat from the mug, “Do you really mean that?”

He sighed knowing that losing someone you loved wasn’t easy. It was hard letting anyone get close to you again because you felt like they might get ripped away. He put his mug down and turned looking at you, “Yes, we’ve been friends since diapers…we were there for each other for everything. When I got back from…well…you know…you held me up, now it’s my turn.”

You stared at him for a long time before tears just fell down your face, “Oli, I don’t know what to do…”

He frowned reaching for your hands, “You don’t have to…you just lost your husband.”

You pulled your hands away standing up, “It’s not that…well it is..I just…I can’t do this…I can’t…”

“Y/N…” He stood up watching you carefully.

You looked at him crossing your arms over your stomach, “I’m pregnant…”

His mouth fell open slightly as you went on, “Roger didn’t… know…I was going to tell him that night…but…then the..and I got that call… Oli, I can’t do this without him… I can’t do this alone.”

He stepped up to you wrapping his arms around you tightly protecting you from the world just for the moment, “You won’t have to…I won’t let you.”

He held you there for a long time letting you cry into his chest. His heart ached for you as small painful sobs escaped your shaking frame. Finally, with ease, he scooped you up carrying you to your room tucking you into bed.

You looked up at him taking his hand in yours, “Will you stay?”

He smiled a little, nodding as he sat on the edge of the bed. He took off his shoes before swinging his legs up. You were instantly curled up next to him. He sighed kissing the top of your head.

There were no words that could help you right now. Only his actions mattered.

Once you were asleep he slipped his phone out finding Diggle, quickly texting him, “Can we talk? I have some questions…”

NCT 127 reaction to you having a nightmare and waking up crying

Originally posted by honeyxxxmoon

Taeil: You can always count on Taeil to make you feel better when you’re down. He’s always there for you when ever you wake up from nightmares. |It’s okay.. I’m here with you.” He’d rub your back holding you tightly.

Originally posted by teeuai

Taeyong: Taeyong might be a little overly concerned. He’d comfort you closely. Whispering assurances in your ear. “It’ll be okay.. I’m right by your side.” The rest of the night he would keep you close in his arms until you were able to sleep again. Rubbing your cheek then finally kissing you on the forehead goodnight.

Originally posted by nakamotens

Yuta: Although he felt bad about you waking up he wouldn’t quite know what to do. A mix between flustered and worried. He wouldn’t give many words of assurance, but he would hold you close to him. Letting you bury your face in his chest until you’ve calmed down.

Originally posted by taeillls

Jaehyun: “Tell me what happened.” Jaehyun would stay up with you all night listening to you describe your nightmare. You’d both come up for explanations for the nightmare. “You see. This is why you need to cuddle with me at night.” He’d joke with you to see you smile again.

Originally posted by nctinfo

Winwin: Winwin would silently listen to you explain your dream to him. He’d mindlessly play with your hands while you spoke. Occasionally he’d rest his hand on your leg or arm to remind both you and himself that he was here for you. That nothing would hurt you.

Originally posted by renjunn

Mark: Mark would hold you tightly and calm you down with his touch. Gently rubbing his fingers on your skin. He’d tell you: “It was only a dream.. Things will get better, okay?” He’d listen to you speak. Nodding understandingly about your nightmare.

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

Haechan: Similar to Taeil, Donghyuck would let you know he was there for you. Letting you know that he was there and you didn’t have anything to be afraid of. He’d shed light on the situation and try to make you forget it even happened.