i never knew i had this feeling

“I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life. I’ve never even been on a date. I feel like I don’t know how to tell whether someone likes me or not, or how I could show someone that I like him without saying it out loud.
I thought that this one guy from school liked me. We became good friends, but I really thought he was into me because he was very sweet, very respectful, very open. Sometimes I would notice that he seemed a little more interested in me than in other friends in the classroom, so I thought that it might go somewhere.
But the next thing I knew, he had a girlfriend.
He had told me a lot about himself, so I felt like I knew a lot about his life.
On the last day of class, I actually said to him, ‘Hey, I’m happy for you, but I thought that you felt this way towards me.’ I asked him if girls ever confuse his politeness and respectfulness and openness for flirtation. He said, ‘Yeah, I get that a lot.’
I don’t even know if he understood that I liked him. I didn’t say it. I just told him that I was surprised to hear that he had a girlfriend.
We’re still friends, but I try to avoid physical contact. I’m a hugger, and before I learned how he felt, I would hug him very tightly. Obviously, my intentions were different than his.
And now this has triggered all these questions for myself that I’ve been trying to avoid.
I realize that a lot of the male figures in my life left when I was young, and I’ve never had a consistent male role model in my life.
My father wasn’t around. I’m from Venezuela, so when I was eight, my older brothers, who were older than me by ten and twelve years, left and came to this country. Then, when I was finally here too, I only lived with them for a short while before they moved out again. My mom found a boyfriend, married him, then got divorced, and he left, too.
So maybe that’s why it’s hard for me to open up to men. Maybe I think, ‘What’s the point of opening up if they’re going to leave?’
I finally met someone who I thought I could open up to. It was just so easy with him. I felt so comfortable. I felt like we were meant to be. And then…
Now I’m scared that I may never find someone like that again. Will I ever find love? It just seems so… beautiful.”

(Government Center)

skyler10fic  asked:

I am Skyler, my favorite color is purplish blue, my favorite ship is Tentoo x Rose (I would say don't hate me but I am pretty sure you already knew that. lol), chocolate ice cream, and I am pretty much the only person I know who doesn't have a cat, it seems. My whole instagram is just endless cat photos. xD

Hey, Skyler!  Purplish blue is very pretty.  And hey now, 1) I could never hate you and 2) I love Tentoo!  I mean, yes, Nine/Rose is my favorite, but I am a firm believer in every Doctor x Rose, and I do love Tentoo.  :)  I just had some chocolate ice cream, and it was delicious.  (Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy, my new fave!)  And yeah, I feel like the only person I know who doesn’t have a cat, either.  :/

Originally posted by buffyann23


happy friday!  come say hello. 

I knew there was so much beauty inside someone’s mind.” she said. “Something deeper. The things they thought when they love someone. The words they wanted to say, but they ended up hiding it underneath. The dreams they had when they were asleep. Sometimes, I honestly wanted to know what they were thinking when they weren’t talking. Sometimes I wanted to risk diving in. Sometimes I wanted to be engulfed and lose myself just by wandering.
—  ma.c.a // But not inside my own mind
Reunion

“You grew up.”

He laughs, rough and edging just slightly on bitter.

“Yeah, that happens when you disappear for two years.”

Derek’s eyes flit downward, and Stiles waits for him to comment on the FBI vest strapped to his chest but he doesn’t. His eyes only go so far as Stiles’ mouth, flicking back to his eyes and then down again, lingering, before sliding away. A warmth blooms out from Stiles’ chest, crawling up his neck and coiling downward, and this definitely isn’t the time for this but they haven’t seen each other in a year and a half, not even pictures because why the hell would Stiles have a picture of Derek (and he’s spent too long cursing not having pictures of Derek) and he finds his own eyes lingering.

“…You look exactly the same.” And that’s not true because Derek actually looks better, but there’s no real way to explain that Stiles hadn’t been able to hold all of the goddamn perfection of Derek’s face in his memory. He’d thought he had, but his eyes keep flitting around now and holding, catching on little details, little rushes of rediscovery in those eyes, that jaw, his teeth, his mouth, his…

Stiles wets his lips, and Derek’s looking again.

“We should––”

“I should have called,” Derek says at the same time, and Stiles blinks, breaking off, confusion pinching his brows because Derek hadn’t known Stiles was coming. He’d had no reason to call. Except… “After… Peter told me what happened, and I…”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t any less fine than anything else from that shit show. It wasn’t any worse than Derek leaving town and getting rid of his phone to begin with.

“I felt sick the whole time you were gone,” Derek presses on, quick and urgent, like the words had been fighting for months to bubble loose and are finally breaking free. “I felt… Cora said it seemed like I’d just… emptied out. On the full moon, I could barely––”

Stop it.” It stung, because he’d thought Derek would care. For the longest time he’d felt like Derek should care, and deciding he didn’t was the first stepping stone to pulling himself together after… after the Benefactor.

Or… fuck, maybe Derek had cared, but he hadn’t cared enough to stay, to keep in contact, to check in when Stiles had needed… needed someone.

No, fuck. Needed him.

“This isn’t the time,” he says, firmly, because a fucking FBI SWAT team is nearby somewhere and there’s still a target painted on Derek’s back, and the fact that Stiles wants to crawl onto his lap and beat the crap out of him at the same time doesn’t matter, because Stiles is here to save his life. Again.

Derek parts his lips, looks like he wants to argue… and ends up just nodding, looking away up the street.

Stiles makes it a whole three steps toward the next corner before swinging back on him, balled fist smacking his bicep.

“Why didn’t you call?”

Derek doesn’t flinch at the blow. Sighs softly. When he meets Stiles’ eyes, the look in them’s enough to send months of coiled anger scattering.

“I would have gone back.”

“…What?” Stiles feels breathless on the word. Derek looks away, hands lost in the depths of his pockets and stance set in the defeated posture of a man with no way to win.

“If I’d heard your voice. If you’d asked. If you’d even sounded anything less than happy––” He grits his teeth, sharp and sudden, head ducking against some ugly thought. “…And I didn’t want to hear you happy, either.” That falls out lower, tight and rough like a secret shame.

“You didn’t want to hear me happy,” Stiles echoes, numb, and then slowly: “Without you.”

And he only understands Derek’s meaning because it’s been echoing in his own chest for over a year–– that stupid, selfish war of wanting to know he’s happy, and not wanting to know he’s happy, not wanting to hear him making a life and finding bliss in a way Stiles couldn’t give him. He’d always wanted to know Derek was doing well, so much that he’d lain up at night sometimes picturing new, bright, sometimes ridiculously corny futures for him… but the thought had always been as agonizing as it was hopeful and Stiles had never slept well afterward. And then he’d spent other nights up hating himself for being selfish enough to half-hope Derek might not be happy.

Might fail out there in the world, and come home.

Derek’s eyes are on his again, wide and shock-soft in a way Stiles had only glimpsed on him once before: the rush of thinking you’re alone in the world and realizing for one beautiful instant that you’re understood

He can feel a matching expression lighting up his own eyes.

“We’re idiots,” he breathes, and Derek shakes his head, barely seeming to feel the movement.

“I couldn’t go back there.”

“But you could have known I fucking missed you as much as––” He breaks off, despite everything suddenly unsure. “…you missed me?”

“I missed you.” Derek promises, not missing a beat.

“You missed me,” Stiles echoes, and it’s everything he never knew he needed to hear. They watch each other for too long, stunned, awed stillness.

And then the slam of a car door in the distance pulls them back; reminds them where they are and what’s happening. Derek blinks away, looking out and alert toward the street, but Stiles can see a faint flush around his ears, a happy pull that won’t quite die on his lips.

“This isn’t the time,” Derek says, and Stiles nods. There are villains to stop. People to save.

“This isn’t the time,” he echoes, but he’s smiling as he turns to head up the street. “Later.”

It sounds like a promise worth keeping.

winter-and-little-brunettes  asked:

Oooo, for the prompt thing, what about Lance talking to Keith in a quiet moment where the BoM and Voltron are actually in the same room about why Keith really left... Like, what was the 'other' part of the reason Keith left? Lance probably thinks it has something to do with hiiimmmmmmm

Lance sits in the common room with Keith next to him. Their knees touch slightly. Lance sighs and listens to the sounds of Hunk hovering over something in the kitchen and Pidge entering some numbers into her laptop. Shiro confers quietly on the other side of the room with Allura, Kolivan, and a couple of other blades. The setting is familiar. It’s comfortable. Lance smiles to himself and turns to murmur something quietly to Keith when he pauses.

Ah. Of course. 

Where he eyes should meet shades of red he only sees purple. He sighs. Reality comes crushing back.

“Yes?” Keith waits expectantly. Lance shakes his head. His hand gently reaches out to lower Keith’s hood. His fingertips brush against his pale cheek. 

“God, pull this down when you’re in here. Your cool, mysterious act fools no one.” Lance smirks. Keith pulls his face away with a pout.

“Just hiding my mullet from you.”

“You gonna try to grow it into a sweet braid?” Lance sneers. He nods over to where Kolivan stands. “Get a super long one like Kolivan and whip your enemies with it?” He moves his head in slow arcs like he’s in a shampoo commercial. Keith frowns… then caves. He smiles shyly.

“No, that would be a huge disadvantage. Enemies could grab me by it.”

“You should tie your knife to the end of it and just SCHWING! SCHWIP!”

Keith laughs at Lance’s sound effects. He can’t remember the last time he laughed like this. 

“Keith! Are you paying attention?” Kolivan turns over his shoulder. Imposing and serious as always. 

“Yes sir!” Keith sits up. Kolivan nods, then resumes talking to Shiro. 

“Jeez,” Lance scoots close so that their sides are against each other. His breath fans against Keith’s ear.

“No fun allowed.”

“You don’t get to be leader by telling jokes.” Keith chuckles. He lets his head turn and he realises how incredibly close he is to Lance. Lance’s expression is relaxed and looks at Keith with lidded eyes and a lazy smile.

“Are you having fun?”

“W….what?” Keith’s pulse starts to hammer. Had he been caught staring.

“With the blades. Are you having fun there?” Lance’s eyes narrow curiously. Keith relaxes. He doesn’t pull away when Lance slides his arm behind him on the couch. 

“Fun is… not the word I’d use…”

“Come back then.”

“I can’t…”

“Keith…”

“Lance…” Keith sighs. “I’m needed there.”

“We need you here.”

“No you don’t, I’m superfluous. We have six paladins and only five lions. Shiro is a better leader than me so…”

“So I’ll sit out!”

“No!” Keith suddenly reaches for Lance’s arm. He grips it tightly. His eyes look panicked. “No I don’t want that.”

Lance scowls. His mouth forms a hard line and he pulls his arm away. 

“Is that what this is all about?” His voice is dangerously low. “You leaving just so I get a lion?”

“No! No!” Keith shakes his head aggressively. “Lance I…”

“Please, Keith please don’t be the reason you left.” This time it’s Lance that initiates the contact. He gently touches Keith’s thigh. It’s warm. Keith heaves out a long sigh.

“Lance… you are much more important to this team then you realise.” Keith picks up his gaze and forces a smile. “That day… when you came to me and told me about how we need our best paladins to make our strongest team?” He huffs a humourless laugh. 

“I never doubted that you would be in a lion. You are one of our best, Lance. I said to not worry about it, because I knew that you would always be in a lion. Maybe not blue, maybe not even Red but…” Keith smiles. He puts his hand on top of Lance’s. Lance stares dumbstruck.

“You’ll always be needed in Voltron.” Keith smiles wider. 

“We need you too.” Lance leans closer. Keith shakes his head.

“I’m just a pilot. And good at stabbing things, but you…” Keith leans forward. He dares to cup lance’s cheek with his hand. Lance blushes up to his ears.

“Lance you do things that I could never do. You lift the team up. You’re good with plans and knowing when to fight and when to run. You keep this team together.”

“Then why can’t I keep you?”

Keith’s hand drops. He feels floored. Air escapes his lungs in a rush. He blinks several times as he tries to compose himself. As he tries to build up his walls again in the face of Lance’s brutal honesty.

“I didn’t leave so you could stay.” He swallows. “But I knew I could leave, because the team still had you and Shiro.”

Lance pouts. He’s not satisfied but he knows this isn’t the place to argue. He falls forward until his head thumps against Keith’s shoulder.

“Come back in one piece, you hear?”

Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s middle. He tries to burn the feel of his jacket, the warmth, the weight against his chest into his memory. He isn’t sure when the next time he’ll be able to do this again. 

“I will.”

Lance chuckles. It surprises Keith.

“I can’t believe you’re not embarrassed hugging me in front of your new dad.”

“He’s not my new dad.”

“But do you think he’ll yell at you if he sees you getting sentimental?”

Keith hums.

“Yeah, but I’ll fight him.” He chuckles and squeezes Lance tighter.

“My money’s on Kolivan.”

“Hey,”

“Dude, you’re tiny. Have you seen you with the other blades? It’s hilarious.” Lance laughs into Keith’s chest. It’s warm and rumbles pleasantly. Keith smiles and melts further into the couch. 

hello friends

a lot of people seem really upset right now and that’s completely understandable but it might help to keep in mind that it is genuinely not a personal affront if you are not invited to something like this. there are thousands and THOUSANDS of us and it is just physically impossible for us all to be noticed or on taylor’s radar in any meaningful way. the people who are invited to meet taylor are obviously all incredibly deserving but it really at the end of the day it all comes down to sheer dumb LUCK. luck about what posts taylor is able to see, when she’s online, when she’s looking for people to invite, etc. i know it can feel like the most personal thing in the world when someone you love so much just doesn’t see you but i promise it’s not because she isn’t looking or doesn’t care

and i hope this doesn’t come across as condescending because i don’t mean to be at all. the only reason i am even making this post is because i have had my moments of being upset about it too. taylor has lurked my blog before, has replied to a post saying she loved me and generally given other indications that she knew who i was but i was never invited to meet her and when i’m feeling bad about myself it’s easy to become convinced that it’s personal. but it’s really really REALLY not. it’s always valid to be sad about not getting to meet her and i don’t think anyone would begrudge us of that but trying to keep in mind about how much luck plays into it should hopefully make it a little easier to bear

love u all

I knew I was in love with her when I woke up in the mornings to a sea of her hazelnut hair spilled over the pillow and the smell of her sheets all over me. When I’d wake up before her and not move a muscle because I could watch the rise and fall of her chest for hours. I knew I was in love with her on car rides to get coffee or to the beach and I would just watch her. She’d sing every song and beat her hands on the steering wheel to every rhythm and get lost in the wind that carried the smell of her vanilla skin. I knew I was in love with her when her eyes would meet mine once in awhile and I’d stop breathing. Their color so blue, they put every ocean drenched in this earth, to shame. I knew I was in love with her when she’d smile against my lips and let her hands find their way to the small of my back and we’d just stay like that until one of us gave in. It felt like the sunset and home all at once. I knew I loved her when we spent the entire night on her roof and she let me in, let me see her inside and out. Until that night, I swear to god I had never seen anything more beautiful. I knew I loved her, but I never knew if she loved me. I never knew if I was enough. If I could have been what she needed. And the saddest part is, is that I don’t think I will ever know. But what I do know is this. She taught me what loving someone is; what it feels like. And for that, I will never regret loving her.

2

love is love is love // 6.14.16

We Knew It!

Harry Potter Finally Owning up to Dating Draco Malfoy?

                Harry rolled his eyes at the latest cover of the Daily Prophet. Yes, he and Draco were seen a lot together but that was because they were friends. Friends. Nothing more.

                For years the media has been telling the whole wizarding world that there just had to be something more going on between the two of them. Despite the fact that since they have left school, nearly five years ago, both of them have had different partners.

                Thinking about the blonde always brought a smile to his face, they had made an unlikely friendship during their eighth year and it held strong since. Draco was honestly one of his best friends. The man had seen him through depression, breakups and many self-doubts.

                A whoosh in the distance let him know that someone was coming through his floo. He already knew that it would be Draco. The blonde was the only one who never bothered with niceties and being polite enough to give notice.

                Harry checked the time as a very disheveled Draco came into his kitchen. “Either your blind date when very well or very bad.”

                Draco glared weakly as he threw himself into a chair. “It was bloody awful. Worst date I have ever been on in my life.”

                The exaggeration had Harry rolling his eyes as he peered at his friend in curiosity. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

                “Oh, it was.” Draco argued as he closed his eyes and wished to vanish into thin air. “It went so awful that I have decided to become celibate and adopt hundreds of animals to appease my lonely, bitter heart.”

                “You hate animals.”

                Draco opened one eye. “Don’t ruin this for me.” He smiled when Harry let out a heavy sigh.

                “Tell me what happened.”          

                Despite it being a blatant demand, Draco sat up and admitted defeat. “It’s horribly embarrassing.” He warned.

                Harry smirked widely. “Good. I am in need of something to cheer me up.”

                “Why am I friends with you?” The question was worded as if Draco himself had no idea.

                “Merlin, I have no clue. I wonder that myself sometimes.”

                Draco rolled his eyes as he chose to ignore this completely. “Pansy is never to be trusted again when it comes to picking out someone of interest.”

                This wasn’t news to Harry. He himself had gone on a blind date the woman set up for him and that hadn’t been a good idea. Not at all. He was beginning to wonder if she did it on purpose.

                “The guy was decent looking enough.” The reluctance was thick. “That is if one is to ignore the blindingly bright smile that never left his face and the overly happy eyes.”

                Harry bit his lip to stop from laughing. Figures Draco would find a happy person undesirable.

                “I wasn’t really feeling the date too much but I was still willing to give it a chance. Even after he took me Marquis.”

                That had Harry wincing slightly. He knew that Draco abhorred that place. The blonde said it was a knock off of true ambiance. Somewhere only desperate people went to.

                “The conversation left much to be desired but I knew he would probably be somewhat decent in bed.” Harry snorted loudly.

                “But this all went to shite when our waitress recognized me.”

                Draco watched concern flitter across Harry’s face and he smiled softly in response. “Oh, not because of being an ex-Death Eater, mind you.” He paused to shake his head. “She recognized me as the ‘true love partner of Harry Potter’, that was a direct quote, by the way.”

Keep reading

cancer

hey guys

so this fic is a sad one, but please READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. It has themes relating to cancer and death, big ones, so if that upsets you or could possibly be a trigger, please read at your own risk. 

also ive been very fortunate to never experience someone that has cancer close to me, but i have dealt with death close to me. so i apologize if its off or not right, let me know if it is so i can fix it

i did a bit of research so i hope that was enough

love u all also this is based off the mcr song

i hope u cry

summary: richie has cancer

words: 2735

pairing: richie and eddie


Richie knew something was wrong. He woke up every day this week with a headache, which usually got to be unbearable to the point where it made him feel sick. He had thrown up multiple times and he knew he had to get to the hospital. Richie approached the tall building on his bike, feeling his stomach becoming sour. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s not just sick.
   

He approached the desk at the front of the room, practically falling against it. Richie was sweating and he could feel his energy draining. “I need… I need to see a doctor… It’s… It’s an emergency..” He barely managed to slur out. The room started to spin and his stomach cramped into knots. The nurse managed to catch the boy before he hit the floor, picking him up and taking him to an ER doctor. As soon as Richie’s head hit the gurney, he was out cold.
  

 Richie awoke with a start, breathing in sharply and sitting up quickly. His arm stung lightly and he realized he had tugged the IV poked into his arm. The room he was in was white all over, baby blue curtains surrounded the room and shielded him from seeing what was beyond them. A doctor pushed aside the paper curtain, holding a metal clipboard. The doctor looked up and saw Richie was awake, offering him a kind smile.
   

“Hello, Mr. Tozier, is it?”
   

Richie nodded slowly, a dull throbbing in his head.
  

 “We did a couple tests while you were out and… We seem to have some terrible news,” The doctor spoke slowly, solemnly. Richie could tell he wasn’t faking it, the guy was genuinely upset. A sigh left his lips as he made eye contact with Richie, sitting down in a chair opposite him. “Richie, I’m sorry, you have leukemia.”
  

 Richie couldn’t process what was happening anymore. The doctor’s lips were moving, presumably explaining his condition, but he couldn’t hear anything. The world around him blurred. He was crying.His hands were shaking, reaching up to cover his face. His glasses weren’t there anymore, he didn’t know where they went. His entire body was trembling violently with sobs. He was going to die and he knew it. There was no way to pay for the treatment, nor did his parents even care regardless, even if his condition was terminal. It was bound to be and Richie couldn’t do anything to save himself.
   

The doctor wrote a small note and laid it on the bedside table, leaving Richie alone. He didn’t know how long he sat there in a ball, crying. It could’ve been half an hour, or maybe even two hours. Richie didn’t know. He felt numb as he sat there, his cheeks stained with tears. He grabbed his glasses from off the blanket where they had fallen off. Reaching over, he grabbed the small note that the doctor had left there prior to him leaving. ‘I know your home and financial situation (as I used to be friends with your mother) and I’ll pay for as many chemo treatments as I can for you’ it read, signed ‘Doctor Bryson.’
   

Richie was thankful, truly he was. He sat there with the note in his shaky hands, debating internally on one subject. Do I tell the losers?
   

He eventually settled on a no. Richie wasn’t going to subject his friends to that kind of turmoil. He could handle it alone, he always did anyway. It’s what he did best, ever since he was 9 years old. He crumpled up the note, letting out a sharp breath. It really hit him then, in that moment, that he was going to die.


Richie was acting weird as of late. Everyone in the Loser’s club had acknowledged it, some more than others. Beverly noticed first, though. Bev always picked up on changes in her friends before anyone else’s. It was her secret talent, you could say.
   

Richie came in one day pale and frail looking. He had been for the past week. Beverly glanced at him, wondering what was wrong. Maybe he was really sick. She decided, sliding into the seat next to him. “Hey, Rich, are you feeling alright?” She asked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head in her hand.
   

Richie nodded his curls bouncing from the motion. “Yeah, just sick.” He said confidently, giving her a smile.
  

 Beverly didn’t buy it, narrowing her eyes to study him. “What going on, really?” She questioned, sitting up.
  

 Richie shook his head, leaning back in the hard plastic chair. “Nothing. My lack of dick is making me sick.” He chuckled, glancing over at his best friend (and possible crush) Eddie Kaspbrak. “Hey, Eds!” He sang, dragging out the ‘s’ sound. 

   “Don’t call me that!” Eddie yelled from across the room.


   Mike was the second to notice something was up with the Trashmouth. During one of their weekly movie night sleepovers, he noticed Richie had missed out on at least two dick joke opportunities. That never happened, ever, especially with Richie Tozier. That kid never lets a joke that could be made go by unsaid. It was odd, watching Richie stare off into space for minutes at a time before he snapped himself back into reality.

Mike didn’t say anything as he watched Richie lull off again, his brown eyes seemingly clouding over. Something was wrong.
He watched for a few more moments when Richie finally snapped back into reality. Richie shook his head a bit as if trying to get whatever was bothering him off of him. He settled back into the couch, his eyes trained on the television screen. Mike made a mental note of this behavior before doing the same as Richie.


Bill, Stan, Ben, and Eddie all noticed when Richie didn’t come to school for a week. He never missed school, even when he had the stomach flu. He puked on the history teacher when they were kids, but even so, he came to school with that sickness. No one knew where he was. The Loser’s went to the office to ask and they said no one had called or given an explanation to his whereabouts that week. All of them were confused and Bill even tried to go to Richie’s house but no one answered the door.


Richie came back to school the next week, even more, sick looking than he had the previous weeks. A black beanie atop his head, he still strode in with his usual confidence even if he didn’t look the part. Eddie practically pounced on him when he walked through the double doors that Monday. “Where were you?” He demanded, hitting Richie in the arm in an attempt to show his ‘anger.’
Richie chuckled. “I was sick. I was throwing up and everything, it was really gross. But I’m sure you’d love to hear every last detail about it, huh?”

Eddie made a face of disgust, nearly gagging at the thought of throw up. “I’m good.” He said, turning off the alarm on his watch that started to go off. He had abandoned his fanny pack years ago after he found out his mother had been making him take placebos ever since he was a kid. His mother had a serious case of Munchausen by proxy that he hoped would die down now that he had realized. Regardless of this, Eddie still hated germs. It was embedded in him since he was a child and he didn’t think it was ever going to change.

Eddie finally noticed the dark gray beanie sitting atop Richie’s head. This was odd. He never wore hats, he said it ‘fucked up his perfect hair.’

“What’s with the hat, Tozier?” Eddie asked, getting on his tiptoes to remove the beanie to inspect it closer. Richie flinched, taking two small steps backward. The smaller boy furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, silently asking what was wrong.

“You don’t wanna see my hair, toots, trust me.” Richie joked, seemingly regaining whatever it was he had lost a few seconds prior. “It is terrible.” He added, faking a Spanish accent on the last word.

Eddie scoffed. “Okay, whatever.” He blew it off, watching Richie walk up to Stan and start to annoy him as per usual. But Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.


“Eddie, is there something wrong?” Beverly asked, hoisting herself onto the hood of Richie’s beat-up car. They were waiting for him to come back from the gas station’s convenience store with snacks. Eddie glanced up at her, staring at her expression for a little before shaking his head slowly. “What’s up?” She responded, taking a long drag from the cigarette between her lips. 


“I think something’s wrong with Richie.” He admitted, rubbing his arm gently.
Beverly hopped off the hood, instead leaning against it. “Me too. I noticed it a week or so ago, but I thought he was just sick.”


Eddie shrugged. “It’s making me nervous. I mean, since when did Richie wear hats?”


“He doesn’t,” Beverly stated, throwing the butt of the cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it with her boot. Richie approached them with a plastic bag filled with chips and soda, holding it up triumphantly. 


“Richie once again is the hero.” He smiled, setting the bag on the car’s hood. Beverly reached in, grabbing the sleeve of licorice and eating one.


Eddie watched Richie glance at his beat-up shoes and grimace, before looking up with a smile. “C’mon, Eds, I got your favorite. You know you love Reese’s.” Richie teased, throwing the small package at Eddie. It hit his chest and fell to the ground, Eddie not even bothering to attempt to catch it. “What the hell? Your arms made of spaghetti, Eddie Spaghetti?” He joked, reaching down and picking up the orange package. “Here.”


Richie placed it in Eddie’s hand, smiling a bit. Eddie gave him a smile back hoping neither of them saw his cheeks growing red.


Richie stopped showing up to school. A week turned into two weeks and two weeks turned into a month with still no sign of Richie. 


Eddie approached his house slowly, knocking on the wooden door. The door creaked open, his hand still raised in the air. He dropped his hand down and slowly stepped inside, quietly praying his parents weren’t home. Music was quietly playing from upstairs mixed with the sound of running water. Eddie slowly walked up the stairs, peeking through the crack in the door. Steam filled the room, coming from the bathroom attached to Richie’s room. 


Eddie felt like such a creep, but he was concerned. He glanced around the room before he noticed the water had turned off. Richie walked out of the bathroom wearing pajamas and Eddie nearly audibly gasped. Richie’s hair was missing in multiple places. He was nearly bald on the back of his head. He pushed the door open, stumbling into the room.


Richie turned on his heel. “What the fuck, Eddie? Why are you here?” He demanded, angrily.


Eddie was shocked into silence. He couldn’t process what was going through his mind. “Richie. What happened?” He asked softly, going to approach Richie. He stepped towards him, but Richie stepped backward. “Richie…” 


“You need to leave,” Richie said, looking down at the floor.


“No, you need to tell me what the hell is going on!” Eddie spat. “You don’t show up to school for a month and you expect me to leave?”


Richie let out a long sigh, kicking an old shoebox across the floor. “I have leukemia, Eds. I can’t… I can barely stand anymore… I have to…” He started to chuckle, tears welling up in his eyes. “I shower sitting down, Eddie! It’s like I’m a sad 80-year-old man.”


Eddie couldn’t breathe. “W-What? Richie- You- Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?”
Richie shook his head, sitting down on his bed. “You think I was gonna tell everyone I was dying? No way in hell.”


Eddie frowned. “You’re not dying-”


“Really?” Richie yelled, trying to stand but falling back down. “You really believe that? I can barely stand! My parents don’t give two shits! The only reason I’m not dead yet is that Dr. Bryson’s paid for two chemo treatments! This third one is the last he can pay for and after that, Eds, I’m gonna die.” His voice cracked, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie had been Richie’s friend since they were 13 and he’d never seen him cry. He knew Richie cried he just never thought he’d see him actually cry. 


“Richie, we can try and get you help.” Eddie offered.


Richie shook his head, taking off his glasses and covering his face. Eddie sat down next to him, wrapping his arm around Richie’s frame. He leaned into Eddie’s touch, tears still streaming down his face. Richie was broken and Eddie was breaking, he knew it.


Three months later, every Loser sat in the waiting room. Every Loser except Eddie, who they wanted to let say goodbye to Richie alone. They knew of their special bond. Eddie sat on a chair next to Richie’s hospital bed, holding his frail hand in his own. Eddie was on the verge of tears and his breaths were shaky.
Richie wasn’t breathing very well, but he still tried his best to talk to everyone who visited him, even his parents. The doctor informed him he had just about two months left and that was three months ago. Richie had pushed through an extra month but he lost his fight.

“I can’t believe I killed a… fucking clown and… cancer beat me…” He chuckled, starting to cough. Eddie let out a laugh, a tear falling down his face and landing on their intertwined hands.


“Eds…” Richie gasped, squeezing Eddie’s hand as tight as he could. “I want you… I want you to know… that… that… I love… love you… Eddie…”
As he finished his thought, Richie’s head fell back onto the pillow. Eddie sat up quickly. “Richie? Richie!” He tried to shake him but he wasn’t waking up. The monitor was beeping wildly. “Rich! Richie!” The beeping stopped and it was replaced by a constant whine. “Richie…” He sobbed, hot tears rolling down his red cheeks. He squeezed Richie’s still warm hand, bringing it up to his lips shakily, kissing it lightly. 


“Richie…” Eddie whispered, his voice cracking halfway through.
A doctor walked him out of the room, giving his condolences. Eddie walked out into the waiting room, all of the Loser’s standing upon his entry. “He’s..” He started, but in that moment it really hit Eddie that his best friend, his best friend that he loved, was truly gone. He started to sob again, falling to the tile floor. He curled up into a ball, feeling his friends surround him. Bill even wrapped his arms around Eddie tightly as he cried. Not one Loser’s eye was dry. Everyone in that room loved Richard Tozier, no matter how annoying he could get sometimes. In that instant, all of their world’s came crashing down. The Loser’s would never- could never- truly be the Losers without Richie.


“He’s gone…” Eddie cried, his eyes burning from tears. “Richie… He… I didn’t tell him.. I didn’t tell him I… I loved him back! I loved him back! I didn’t tell him!” Eddie became erratic, thrashing to get out of their arms. “I have to tell him I love him!”


“Eddie-” Bill grabbed him, holding him in place.


“Bill, I have to tell him! I love him! Bill, I love him! I didn’t say it back, I have to tell him!” Eddie was shaking violently, trying to escape Bill’s grasp. He was crying too.


“Eddie… Eddie, he’s gone… Please…” Bill was trying to get him to calm down but it wasn’t working. 


Eddie Kaspbrak was officially broken.


hello 

did you cry? cause i did

i hope you guys enjoyed, thank you so much for reading

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ask to be on permanent taglist/ask me stuff

PSA: i love richie and this hurt me a lot

perma taglist: 

Perma taglist: @richiewheeler @rose1828 @trashrichie @eddiekazpbraks @qxantxm @bloggerboy101 @losersclub101 @pancoon237 @strangerthoughts @peachycin @loverboykaspbrak @robinottoisgay @spookyskarsgard @that-1girl-with–hair @freecssu @mbates12 @trashmouthreddie @richie-tczier @summerxle @fxckthxpxlxce @joomtrash @acourtofbooks @trashmoutheds @hawkiye @aurordafni @strangerbeeps @reddieburnstheretoo @colorful-dodie @howellhxlic @somenates27 @reddie-to-rock @eddierichietozier @reddiebellarke @emo-trash-overlord @rhubarberous @eddie-kaspjack @thesingingreader@thalialightwood @trashmouthreddie @cryttalized

Pounding Heartbeats // The Color Of My World Part Three [A Stiles Stilinski Soulmate AU]

Series: Part One Part Two

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Reader/Stiles Stilinski x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Oral (Male on Female), Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Virginity Loss, Cheating, Stiles Being The Fucking Cutest, Abusive Boyfriend, and Swearing. 

Word Count: 6,373 

Song: Heart by Sleeping At Last (This song is so beautiful in Stiles’ POV, holy shit)

Putting his hands on my waist and pulling me up with his strong arms, Stiles sat me down on the surface of his kitchen counter. Once he made sure I was comfortable enough, Stiles let go of me to walk over to his refrigerator. Opening the door to the freezer, he pulled out a frozen bag of peas.

“Sorry, I don’t have any ice so…” He trailed off as he approached me again.

“It’s okay.” I smiled, allowed him to push my hair back and place the icy-cold bag of frozen food against my still stinging cheek. Stiles’ eyes stared at me with concern when I winced at the slight pain, but stayed to let him keep it there.

“I can’t believe he did this.” Stiles shook his head in disbelief, hurt evident in his voice. “He doesn’t deserve you, Margaret.”

“I-I’ve never seen him so angry before.” I stated, my own voice weak as I felt the tears continue to fall. “He’s always been so sweet, I just don’t understand what happened.”

“It’s all my fault.” Stiles whispered, unable to keep his face from faltering. “I know how much he hates me and I was way too mesmerized by you that I forgot I was trying to steal someone that belongs to him.”

“Stiles, I don’t belong to him.” I said, bringing my hand up to his chin and lifting his face to look at me again. His eyes were in pain and I desperately wanted to make that anguish go away. “Do you know the Greek myth of how soulmates were born?”

Stiles shook his head and, letting go of his chin, I grabbed his free hand with both of mine.

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with two heads, four arms, four legs, and two hearts. They were happy and extremely powerful. Zeus, fearing their power, decided to split them into two separate beings and condemn them to spend their entire lives searching for their other half.” I explained, my thumb brushing the back of his hand. “Stiles, you are my other half and I belong to you.”

My words sparked a small glimpse of light in his eyes and the beautiful sight made my heart fill with hope. After tonight, my story with Theo is over and now I can officially start a new one with the person I am supposed to be with all along. The small amount of time that we spent together made me realize that what we have isn’t exactly love at first sight — it’s soul recognition.

Stiles tugged me closer and my hand pressed against his warm chest, preparing myself for what was coming next. I felt his heartbeat underneath my touch, the thunderous, rapid pounding bringing a smile on my lips in amusement. Our breaths mingled together as we stared at each other, both of us a little unsteady. Hunger glowed in his golden eyes, his hand lowering the bag of peas and putting it on the counter beside me.

Looking down at his lips for the slightest second before closing my eyes all together, I slowly leaned in. I felt like I would regret kissing him so soon if I did, but I knew that I would regret it even more if I didn’t. With my heart pounding against my chest, much like his, I could feel Stiles’ breath pick up as our faces inched closer together. We took our time to just enjoy the drumroll of our upcoming kiss, allowing the sexual tension to take over the air.

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Rejection never really mattered to me at first. I never needed anyones approval and knew what I was doing. I had friends, not a lot, but enough to keep me happy. But when did everything start going wrong? When did I become a part of a character assassination by a few hateful and damaged souls? Damaged people damage people. They decided to pitch a tent and everyone is now under it. Why does rejection hurt so much now? When did the slightest wrong glance or being spoken over become so painful? Why do I feel so alone?
—  khuntybutok, Isolation
a night to remember ❦ roman godfrey

prompt: hey! i was wondering if you could do an imagine with roman where you’re the new girl in school and he’s trying to get you to sleep with him, but you keep turning him down and that just makes him more determined. then at a school dance he sees you standing all alone and he feels bad so he offers to be your date and you agree and you two have a wonderful time. then he brings you home and you invite him in and have rough, hard sex where he’s very dominant.

requested by: @darthnerd25

[a/n]: i made a few minor tweaks to the original request. 

warning(s): this imagine contains sexual themes and explicit language

word count: 1100

A quiet, quaint little town in Western Pennsylvania, Hemlock Grove seemed like maybe—just maybe— it wouldn’t be all that bad. But of course, nothing is ever as it seems—or perhaps you were just unlucky.

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anonymous asked:

Head cannons for Pennywise when the reader is horny beyond belief and looking for any relief from it? Like they have a period or something (cause I get hella horny around that time to the point I feel pathetic.)

oooh girl I can relate…

  • you were always so ridiculously horny when that time of the month came around
  • you laid in your bed for hours just touching yourself and never getting tired, your female anatomy allowing you to orgasm over and over again
  • this time was a little different
  • you wanted to feel someone else’s touch so bad, you craved it
  • you didn’t let yourself orgasm, you edged closer and closer and kept putting it off because you knew it would be worth it when you had the most intense orgasm of your life
  • you wanted someone to fuck you
  • something big inside you
  • an idea occurred to you
  • you got up and wiped your bloody fingers on a baby wipe, walked around your room and scrambled to find anything you could put inside you
  • you found nothing
  • you scrolled through your phone, thought of calling someone to help you out
  • you quickly realized how stupid that was, how desperate you would seem, and who would want to fuck you on your period, all bloody and gross?
  • you just needed a cock inside you, fucking you the way you had been fantasizing about all day - rough and hard and deep
  • you sat on your bed with a huff, went back to touching yourself for a few moments before you stopped again and groaned
  • you need something inside you now and your fingers weren’t cutting it
  • at this point you’d fuck anyone that you could get your hands on, put anything you could find inside yourself
  • a cucumber from the fridge would suffice
  • but your mom would ask you where it went
  • you knew you had to find something…
  • “What’s the matter, darling?”
  • a voice startled you and caused you to jump back on your bed
  • “Pennywise,” you frowned.
  • this clown…
  • he was standing by your door
  • you had talked to him a bunch of times before and he was always so creepy
  • you found yourself so tense and uneasy around him
  • he had a smirk on his face and his eyes glowed
  • “Looking for something?”
  • You gulped
  • he knew
  • he had been watching you
  • something in your chest sank for a brief moment before reemerging as curiosity
  • did pennywise… want to do something with you?
  • or was he just trying to embarrass you? scare you? remind you that he was always watching?
  • “You should go,” you stammered out.
  • Pennywise shook his head very slowly
  • “I can’t leave you like this,” he glided towards you and you flinched
  • his intentions were becoming clearer
  • you blinked, having no clue what to say
  • suddenly he was directly in front of you and he pressed a firm hand to your chest and pushed you down flat on the bed
  • you gasped, too shocked to try and sit up again
  • you started to say something- multiple things - but no full words came out
  • he giggled softly, amused at your helplessness
  • his hands reached for your pants and you found yourself not wanting to push him away just out of pure curiosity, but you still smacked his hands away
  • this was all so wrong
  • could you really let this happen?
  • god, imagine the things he could do to you though
  • “No, I’m-”
  • “Bleeding,” he grinned wide.
  • you stared at him wide-eyed
  • “It would be my pleasure,” he crooned.
  • you were breathless as he yanked your pants down and threw them to the floor, your top too
  • it all happened in a matter of moments and he was so rough you had a hard time objecting
  • oh god oh god oh god your blood was going to get all over the blood
  • is that really the first thing you’re worrying about?
  • he groaned lowly, sitting on his knees and grasping your thighs to pull you forward, spreading your legs in the process
  • you reached your hand out in a last effort to stop him but his lips latched onto your swollen clit hungrily and there was no stopping him now
  • you whined and threw your head back in the initial shock of finally being touched
  • you decided to stay there because how could you watch him do this to you?
  • he proceeded for a minute or so, sucking and licking and eating your clit
  • then you felt his tongue slip out of his mouth and lap at your pussy, teasing your entrance and you felt compelled to look
  • you gasped as you saw his extremely long and fat tongue licking you all over and then thrusting past your lips and nestling inside of you
  • he used his tongue to thrust in and out of your pussy, sending warmth and electricity through you
  • this is exactly what you needed
  • you arched your back and guiltily thrust your hips forward
  • his hands reached up to grab your breasts
  • you squeezed his hand and squirmed, his tongue still working inside of you
  • this was pure ecstasy
  • it was becoming too much to take
  • you had been edging all day, your orgasm came quick and you clenched hard around his tongue, your orgasm rolling out of you in a beautiful warm wave
  • you panted as you tried to collect your breath, exhausted from what just happened
  • you glanced down at him only to see his white complexion smeared with blood, and a wicked grin on his face
  • he stood and towered over you, in between your legs that were still spread
  • “That’s my girl,” he purred.
  • you shook your head, wanting to object to what he was saying
  • his?
  • you tried to sit up but he only pushed you down again
  • “You make a delicious snack.”
  • something inside you fumed, but something else felt immensely satisfied and turned on still
  • somewhere in the back of your mind you knew that this would probably happen again, maybe very soon
  • periods don’t last just one day, after all…
BTS Imagine: Jimin Confessing to Cheating | Part 1

Thank you for the request! I hope I did this justice.^^

word count: 1.6k

part one | two | three *coming soon*

requests: open

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Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, his laptop on his thighs and his hands in his hair. He had to do it now, he told himself. He had to call you now and confess what had happened. There was no way to hide it anymore. No way to pretend that everything was the same as it used to be. No more having to hide the guilt that had plagued him constantly these past 3 months. He finally pulled his head up to look at your smiling face on his screen. His fingers hovered over the trackpad as he willed himself to hit the call button. He took a deep, shaky breath and tapped on your name. It was time for him to tell you the worst secret of his life.

You were laying in your bed that evening, staring at your BTS poster taped to your closet door. The few people very close to you knew that you weren’t just an ARMY fangirling over the boys in the picture. You were always only looking at one boy. You were only ever looking at your ChimChim.

The chronic times apart hadn’t been easy for either of you. When Jimin had gone to be a trainee, leaving your hometown of Busan, you’d hoped that things wouldn’t be over between you two. You’d hoped that your connection was strong enough to overcome the distance. And it had been. Sure, being limited to video chats or talking on the phone wasn’t nearly as good as having him there in person; but you’d both learned how to navigate the rough waters of him being an idol with a secret girlfriend.

At first it had really bothered you that you had to keep your relationship a secret. Every time that Jimin claimed to have never been in a relationship before used to feel like a stab to your heart. The precious few days you had together when he got to visit home was filled with disguises to prevent fans from recognizing him and therefore wondering about you. You had a strong love-hate relationship with the other ARMYs. You loved that he was being successful. You loved seeing others see all of the good inside him. Loved watching their clever edits that were made with so much care. But then there was the ugly side of being an idol. Having to watch other girls screaming his name and reaching for him constantly. Having to watch him doing his fanservice and smiling his shy smile at them and answering their sticky note questions flirtatiously. It was all part of his job—you knew that. You knew in your heart, even without his constant assurances, that Park Jimin loved you and only you. The girl of his hometown.

At least that’s what you had to keep reminding yourself of more and more often lately. Five months ago, BitHit had asked Jimin to publicly date an actress that had been in their newest music video to help promote their comeback. It bothered you that BigHit often put things on only Jimin’s shoulders like when they told him that only he had to show his abs in their debut song. It had been a tough conversation but you told Jimin you understood. He was doing it for his career and helping hers as well since Jimin was always thinking of others. None of it meant anything. They didn’t even talk outside of their public appearances that were always so carefully crafted even when they were just “going to the grocery store.” The public ate everything up so easily.

Suddenly your phone sounded with a video call. When you saw the familiar handsome face flash across your screen, your mood instantly picked up and you were ready for one of your long five hour conversations that Jimin always called “conversations with friends” when asked about it in interviews.

“Hey, my ChimChim,” you greeted him happily with your favorite nickname for him.

“Hey, jagiya,” he said, his voice noticeably subdued.

“What’s wrong?” you asked instantly, sitting straight up in your bed. You took in his facial features that were filled with a mixture of anxiety and sadness.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” He gave a nervous laugh.

“Jiminie, I know you better than you know yourself….What’s wrong?”

“Ay, Jaigya,” he sighed, leaning back and running his hand roughly through his hair. “I—I really don’t want to tell you this,” he said quietly.

Your stomach started to sink and you felt your throat starting to close up. There was something very wrong. You’d seen Jimin when he was feeling down more times than you could count but this was something else. This wasn’t just him having doubts about himself. This was him holding back. He was always so caring; always thinking of everyone else first. This was something about you.

“Are you breaking up with me?” you managed to squeeze out through the tightness in your throat.

“Y/n, it’s not that. It’s um…it’s something else.”

“Please just tell me, ChimChim. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” you admitted.

You watched as his throat gulped on the screen. He ran his hand through his hair again, biting his lip as he did so. If you weren’t in such agonizing suspense, you’d be thinking some rather naughty thoughts right now. If only that’s what was happening you thought to yourself.

“You know h/n noona?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” you responded quickly. How could you forget the beautiful, talented actress fake dating your boyfriend?

“Something happened one night…with me and her,” he finally said. You stared at the image of your boyfriend on the screen, feeling like every inch of blood inside you was draining out.

“‘One night’?” you repeated softly. “What do you mean?” You had to hear him say the words. It wasn’t real until he said the words.

“Y/n, I was drunk,” he started. “I was drunk and lonely and missing you more than you could possibly know. And I—I slept with her,” he finally admitted. “I don’t even remember any of it. I just woke up next to her.”

You closed your eyes tightly to prevent the tears that had welled up in your eyes from falling down your face. You never in a dozen lifetimes thought Jimin would be that guy. Not your ChimChim. All of those pictures you would send him, all of those video and phone calls—they were all for nothing. You still couldn’t be there to satisfy him and he’d turned to someone else. You were so stupid to think that this would ever turn out any other way.

“Y/n, that’s not all of it,” Jimin’s voice broke in again.

You didn’t care anymore if he saw the tears. Let him see. Let him see how much he’d hurt you. “What else do you want to tell me?” you choked out. You hid the surprise from crossing your face when you saw that Jimin was crying on the other side of the screen.

“She’s pregnant.”

Anger streaked through you. “Are you kidding me?” you burst out. “You’ve always made sure we were careful! Even with you wearing condoms, you asked me to take birth control even though I get to see you only two weeks out of the year! And then you sleep with her without using anything?!” You couldn’t stop the accusing words from coming out of your mouth.

“Jagi, I was drunk. I didn’t plan for it to happen,” he replied.

“How far along is she?”

Jimin stared at you. “Twelve weeks,” he finally answered.

“You did this three months ago and didn’t tell me?” you whispered.

“It was one time. I knew it would never happen again. I couldn’t bear to see you hurt like this.”

You nodded mockingly at him through your tears. “How long have you had feelings for her?”

“What?” He looked like you’d put your hand through the screen and smacked him.

“How long, Jimin?” you demanded.

“I don’t, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that,” you protested immediately. “I know you, Park Jimin. Even drunk, you would never sleep with someone you didn’t feel anything for. What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know, y/n,” he admitted. “She told me she’s keeping the baby.”

You let out a small sarcastic laugh. “Of course she is. It’s your baby. No one could end a part of you…,” you trailed off, your heart squeezing even tighter as the realization that this was happening hit you. She was carrying your boyfriend’s child. She was always going to have a connection with him now. She was always going to have a piece of him that you would never have. And with that thought you realized what your next question needed to be. “Are you going to marry her?” He didn’t respond. “You will, won’t you?” you whispered. “You’ll keep her from scandal.”

“She doesn’t deserve it,” he said. “You don’t deserve this,” his voice broke. “I’m sorry, y/n. More sorry than you could ever know. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Oh, Jiminie,” you said slightly mockingly. “It’s way too late for that.” And with that Jimin broke down into a pile of sobs on the other side of the screen. You couldn’t watch this anymore. “Goodbye, Jimin,” you choked out and hung up the call.

Before you fell into your own mess of sobs, you sent a quick text to Jin. You need to go to Jiminie. He needs someone right now. Please don’t be too hard on him. Because even after all of this, you knew that you would always love that beautiful boy with the shy smile from Busan. 

The Feels of Yugioh

Okay so as a child why did I never realize that Yugi needed to give up his damn wish to get Atemu’s name!?!!? Like this was 12 years ago and I vaguely remember that episode of him saying that. I knew he cried saying that Joey, Tristan, and Tea were his wish.

So that meant he had to give up his wish of his friends, but as we see in that episode(Season 5, episode 214), he didn’t give them up.

They made it and did get Atemu’s name, so I guess that means his wish is saved, right? WRONG!!!! That was just his FIRST wish, we all do remember this right???

Yep that’s his second wish! To see Mou Hitori no Boku again, at least one more time(as said in the manga), but to be with him again was his wish. So he didn’t give up his first wish, which means he had to give up his second wish! Yes you hear me!! There was a price for Atemu getting his name, it wasn’t that he HAD to return to the afterlife…it was that Yugi had to give his wish in exchange, he didn’t give up his first wish, and so his second wish, had to be given back. In return we…Yugi….gave up his closest friend ever….in order to help his best friend, he had to give him up….such a sad sad anime behind all those cards games and friendship speeches! Now I am going to go cry my eyes out!

Originally posted by toqaahmed

Quiver: Part Four

Part One // Part Two // Part Three //

                                                 Summary:

You were hired on a new team Tony Stark put together as the Tech support. However, you weren’t expecting to crush on none other than Bucky Barnes.

Notes:

NSFW (18+) Explicit Smut, Cursing, & Fluff!! If this gets to 300, or if there is a large demand for it I’ll continue! Hope you enjoy and FEEDBACK! I love it!!! I promise. It helps me as a writer.

Word Count: 3,811 (whoops, got a little long!)

(added my previous tag list)

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Decline - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Originally posted by itsfuckingvampire

Summary: In which Bucky betrays his best friend (Y/N) and later begs for her forgiveness.
(Request by ANON - it’s a little tweaked sorry.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: None! Yay!

Word count: 1.8K

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A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:
(Request will be attended to shortly! I have a lot, but I refuse to close my requests because I hate the feeling of rejecting a request. Please be patient!)

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