i put a shadow on the text and i think it looks better

❝  Is it true what you said? ❞

Plot: You and Taehyung are best friend but both have feelings for each other. You try to move on and he sees you on a date, becoming jealous and making a scene in front of everyone. 

Pairing: TaehyungxReader

Words count: 2,9k

Genre: Angst/Fluff in the end

For anon, I hope you like it! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! ♥

Your bed never seemed so soft. After days of grueling work, you were finally free to rest. To enjoy the tranquillity of your room, the silence caused by the absence of another human in the house, the lukewarm air that entered the window slightly open in that windy June’s night.  


Your best friend voice didn’t surprise you, but you simply slipped on the bed making him space and making a small but amused smile when you felt the mattress sinking next to you.  

The only person you could endure despite the fatigue was just Taehyung. So much so that he had his own keys to your house and could enter at any time. His presence relieved any pain, physical and emotional, from the day you were met.  

And when you realized that you started having feelings for him, you started to be even more tied to him. Despite the pain of not being more than his best friend, staying close to him was the only thing you wanted.  

“Heavy day?” He inquired, lifting your head and letting his arm pass under it, “I see it from your dark circles”  

“Being a nursing intern is quite stressful, Tae. Why are you here? No rehearsals or music awards to attend to..? ”  

“No, nothing. So I thought we could spend some time together.. What do you say? ” He asked and you were too tired to notice his hopeful tone.  

Or the way he looked at you; or the way he only smiled at you. The truth was that Taehyung loved you for more than a year, in the shadows and in total silence. And it had been the night of that violent storm, in which completely drenched you were presented in front of the door of his dorm, who had understood how much he really loved you and not just as a best friend.  

He began to caress your hair, letting the long tapered fingers slip through them and enjoying the murmur of appreciation that began to slip your lips; those lips which many times he had desired to capture with their own, from time to time.  

“I’d say it’s perfect Tae, I miss you.”  

In your words, there was something hidden, that “I miss you” was worth much more than what others could seem but every so often you felt the need to let you go, admit aloud that you really missed him, even though he had never been “yours.” Opening your eyes, you turned your face and watched him, his features still incredibly delicate and eyes softened by feelings that you couldn’t decipher.  

“Why are you blushing?” You wondered, noticing his slightly colored pink cheeks.  

“I’m hot,” he lied shamelessly, biting slowly his plumpy bottom lip without moving away from his gaze; “You are not hot..?”  

“If you’re hot why are you stuck to me..? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Tae. ”  

“Because it’s comfortable, believe me.”  

Smiling, despite being a tired smile, you turned completely towards him, laying on your side. You put your hand onto his side, just squeezing your fingers so that you had a better grip, slipping towards him and letting him turn on his side too.  

There was no need for a lot of words between you two and it was one of the things you loved most about your relationship. He understood you, but at least in one thing, he had many gaps. Understand how much you were totally and completely in love with him.  

He surrounded your side with his arm, then starting to slide his hand lightly up and down your back while you rested your forehead against his chest and indulged in the luxury of savoring his scent.  

“I wonder when Gucci will call you.. I think you’re financing the whole brand. ”  

He giggled, drawing you even more against his body and your legs collided, so he slipped one among yours letting them intertwine almost to perfection.  

“More or less.. Do you mind? In short, you are a Dolce and Gabbana trash. ”  

“Always Italian brands, dummy.”  

And without noticing, you both fell asleep. The one in the arms of the other.  

~ ~

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The Arrangement (Part 12)

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

Summary (story spoilers): someone delivers some unexpected and unpleasant news, sending you running. Sam and Benny confront Dean, and the three of them go looking for you.

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings (again, spoilers): lots of language, angst, cheating, feelings of betrayal and worthlessness

A/N: Thank you guys for all your patience! My show this weekend went really well! I came in 3rd out of 17 and qualified for Nationals in early May! Hope you enjoy this installment, though I think I’ll have a few upset messages…

Want to catch up? Check out the series masterlist!

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heartthrob (pt. 1)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

genre: fluff, angst, fuckboy!hoseok au, college au. 

note: this is the longest thing i’ve ever written pls have mercy on me.

part 2 | drabbles

“Heads up!” I hear an all too familiar voice call. I looked towards the origin of the voice and was hardly surprised to see Jung Hoseok, backwards snapback and all, with a football in his hand ready to throw it bluntly at the male I was currently speaking to. I narrowed my eyes at him, disapproving his typical overbearing behaviour. Hoseok simply winked at me, letting the ball fly from his hand directly at the male in front of me.

My hands immediately push the male away from danger, ready to receive the throw from the impossible man that I called my best friend. I recalled the endless hours I had practiced with Hoseok when his “bros” had dates to go on while he remained loyal to his bachelor, unholy ways. A smile formed on my lips as the ball landed in the cradle formed by my hands. I looked forward to see Hoseok smirking, but not at me, at the man currently on the ground because of the force of my unexpected shove.

“Taehyung, are you okay?” I asked, immediately helping the young man to his feet. The timid dark-haired boy brushed off the dirt and looked at me ready to reply but froze as his eyes locked on something behind me.

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prompt #34, #35 (Derek Hale)

34.“look at you sacrificing yourself for others, I was starting to think you didn’t have a heart.” 35.“that was a sad attempt at an apology.” “well I’ve never actually apologized to someone before.” “never?” “I guess you could say you changed me.” Requested @kristinag-1997

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

The music was so loud in the club I could barely hear myself think. We had to stop Jackson tonight, or else he was just going to keep killing people. He didn’t know he was doing it either which made the situation a thousand times worse. 

“anybody have eyes on him?” Scott asked.

He knew the werewolves in the room would hear him, I wasn’t one of them, but I was right near Isaac and he did. I was supposed to dance with Jackson to distract him and then Isaac would knock him out so we could catch him and hopefully find out who was controlling him. I caught Jackson making his way over to the DJ. I took a deep breathe. I wasn’t exactly the sexy type, I mean I only ever kissed one guy and it was Stiles on accident.

“you reek of anxiety, just relax you got this.” Isaac said squeezing my shoulder.

I took another deep breathe before feeling myself being pushed by Isaac. I landed straight on my face. I turned around glaring at Isaac, before getting up and brushing myself off. I ran over to Jackson pulling him over to me. I backed up and started swaying my hips against his body. He put his hands on my hips slowly putting them under my shirt. I tried my best not to freak out, waiting for Isaac. Jackson started moving his hands up higher so I quickly flipped around so I was facing Jackson. Isaac came over dancing with us too.  I never had two attractive guys grinding on me at once.

Originally posted by irresbonsible

This plan would’ve been better if it involved Derek, but unfortunately he had no idea what we were planning. Erica and Stiles were outside waiting for me and Isaac to bring out Jackson. I suggested Erica be the one to dance with him but she insisted that Jackson has a thing for me. Jackson had a thing for everyone, including my brothers girlfriend Allison. Isaac was about to inject him but he saw. He threw me to the ground knocking Isaac down, and causing the vile to roll away. I was trying to collect myself but there were so many people in the club. Isaac picked up the vile stabbing it in Jackson’s neck.

“you take him, I need to go find Scott.” I told Isaac scanning the crowd for Scott.

I didn’t see him anywhere. I stood by the DJ so I could get a good look at the whole club, but still no Scott. I pulled out my phone sending him a text message. I stood there for a few minutes scanning the crowd and waiting for a response. I saw the intended target of tonight’s murder. I watched her going backstage so I decided to follow just in case.

“I see you.” The girl snapped crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry. I was just making sure you're okay.” I said stepping out of the shadows.

“why wouldn’t I be okay?” She snapped again turning away from me.

It all happened so fast. The girl was there and then she wasn’t. I felt blood splatter all over my face and my shirt. I looked up as her body fell from the rafter, her throat slashed. Jackson lurked in the rafters in his kanima form, making eye contact with me. I could feel the panic settle in as he dropped down right in front of me. I screamed trying to warn the others in the club, but I have a feeling no one heard me over the loud music.

“Jackson wait don’t” I said backing away from him.

He lurched forward catching me off guard. He grabbed me by my leg pulling me to him. I tried to grab something but Jackson was too strong. He raised his claws ready to slash my throat as well. I let out one final scream hoping someone would hear me. Jackson was tackled off of me. I looked up at Derek’s alpha form fighting Jackson.

Originally posted by anysaz

Derek got one over on Jackson, knocking him to the ground. Derek picked up Jackson throwing him into the wall repeatedly. Jackson got up, retreating back up the rafter. Derek came over pulling me up from the floor.

“are you okay?” Derek asked using his hand to wipe some of the blood from my face.

“i’m fine, where’s Scott?” I asked worried for my brother.

“he’s fine, he had to go take care of something.” Derek said taking off his jacket and putting it over my blood covered shirt.

“so he left me here.” I said rolling my eyes and letting Derek lead me out.

“In his defense he thought you were with Stiles.” Derek said opening the door of his black mustang for me.

“well I wasn’t! I was looking for him! He bailed on our plan! I can’t believe him!” I screamed letting out all my frustrations.

I was almost killed and Scott was nowhere to be found. I loved him, he was my brother, but lately I was wondering where his loyalties lie. He spent so much time fighting to be with Allison that he neglected his relationships with other people. Derek drove me to his loft. 

“are you going to be okay?” Derek asked opening the door for me.

I sat down on his bed looking at my shirt. Seeing the blood made me think about what just happened. I couldn’t get the image of the girl with her throat slashed out of my head. I’d seen dead bodies before, but none that up close, and I certainly hadn’t talked to them right before they were brutally murdered.

“y/n, I’m talking to you.” Derek said waving his hand in front of my face.

“yeah sorry i’m fine, no thanks to Scott.” I scoffed rolling my eyes again.

Derek sat down next to me. There was an awkward silence. His jacket around my arms was warm and smelled just like him.

“how did you find me?” I asked looking at him.

“I heard you scream, I came.” He said shrugging his shoulders.

look at you sacrificing yourself for others, I was starting to think you didn’t have a heart.” I smirked laughing at him.

“yeah well I almost didn’t.” He said standing up.

“uh okay? I mean you didn’t have to save my life.” I said confused and a little hurt.

“I’m sorry that isn’t what I meant you just took it the wrong way. ” Derek said running his hands through his hair.

that was a sad attempt at an apology.” I said laughing at him again.

well I’ve never actually apologized to someone before.” He admitted crossing his muscular arms over his toned chest.

never?” I questioned standing up now as well.

I guess you could say you’ve changed me.” Derek said not looking at me.

I was a little shocked hearing Derek admit that. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew Derek wasn’t the guy to just say that to anyone.

“I meant I was scared that I wasn’t going to make it to you in time.” He said grabbing my hands and looking me straight in the eyes.

I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“but you did, and i’m fine.” I said offering him a small smile.

“I know you’re not, and that’s okay, you were just almost killed.” Derek said getting interrupted by his phone ringing.

I didn’t know who was on the other line but they sounded panicked.

“Isaac needs me, you can stay here, this is probably the safest place for you right now. I’ll be right back.” Derek said kissing my cheek and walking out the door.

I held my cheek where he kissed me. I don’t think he even realized he did it. I sighed falling back on his bed. I entangled myself in his sheets that smelt like him. It wasn’t long until I felt myself drift off to sleep. I woke up to the sun shining in my face. I sat up looking at my surroundings. I realized I was still in Derek’s loft. I slept here last night. I looked down at my body, but my blood stained shirt was replaced with a black long sleeve shirt. I realized it was Derek’s. He must’ve put it on me while I was sleeping. I blushed at the thought of him seeing me in my bra.

“I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t want you to have to stay in the blood stained shirt.” He said bringing me a cup of coffee and sitting down beside me.

“no, thank you Derek.” I said offering him a smile.

I sipped the coffee feeling some tension in the air.

“did you uh sleep.” I started not knowing how to phrase my question.

“no I slept on the couch.” Derek said pointing to his sofa that had a blanket and a pillow on it.

I nodded my head feeling some of the tension ease.

“you could’ve, I wouldn’t have minded.” I said looking at him from the corner of my eye.

I could’ve swore I saw Derek smiling.

“next time.” He said grabbing my coffee and letting me stand up.

Derek’s shirt was like a dress on me, but somehow I’ve never been more comfortable.

“hey Derek, I never did say thank you for saving my life.” I said looking at my toes.

Derek walked over to me taking my chin in his hand. He leaned in softly placing his lips on mine. I was stunned at first but found myself kissing back as soon as I realized what was happening. Derek cupped my cheek pulling me closer to him. The best way to describe it was pure bliss, definitely better than my accidental kiss with Stiles.

“you saved my life too, you just don’t know it.” Derek said resting his forehead against mine.

I knew now that I was in love with the alpha Derek Hale.

prompt from: https://radwriting.tumblr.com/post/161065686187/teen-wolf-imagine-prompts

PROMPT REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED FOR BOTH PROMPTS. I am so excited because I literally have over 20 requests to do so unfortunately I have to close requests for a while. I don’t know if anyone actually reads these but you guys are awesome and I’m so thankful that you guys enjoy my writing!  

Here’s a long cute Derek requests for all you Derek fans!

Not Letting Go

Prompt: You believe that Sherlock is crazy for Irene so one day, you have to help Irene escape some guys that followed her and cornered her. You end up seriously injured. When Sherlock arrives, thinking that you were going to die, everything is laid out.

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

A/N: This was a request an anon sent in and I really enjoyed writing this one. A bit longer than usual but I had a cute story to tell and I really wanted to :P I hope you guys like this one! Remember! My requests are always open and I love writing for y’all so don’t be afraid to send one in!

Originally posted by bethereinagiphy

You’re sitting, writing your report on the case Sherlock and John are working on. Peaking up from the top of your laptop, you silently watch Sherlock move about the kitchen, grabbing all his evidence to test as John stands there making tea.

“Y/n, come here for a second, I need an extra pair of hands to help me.” Sherlock calls out. John lets out a scoff, “I’m standing right here! I can help Sherlock!”

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Sleeping Bags

Avengers x reader

Warnings: heavy mentions of sexual abuse. some fluff at the end.

Words: 1k

Disclaimer: I know many fic writers do not write things like this and I myself would not normally write something like this. However, this was written for me by me to help not only wrap my mind around what I have experienced in the relationship I was just in, but to also make me feel as if I’m not alone and I have people to lean on (which I do not in real life because my now ex-boyfriend made me give them all up.)

All credit goes to Marvel.

Originally posted by multi-fandom-imagines13

She sat on the edge of her bed, knees pressed to her chest as she stared out at the night sky from her window. The moonlight did little to illuminate her room, the darkness masking Steve’s shadow as he stood in her doorway. He watched her, waiting. He knew this was wrong, but he didn’t believe that she was keeping it together as well as she claimed to. Her shoulders raised in what looked like a sob, and as Steve was getting ready to rush into action and console her, she let out a long breath, dropping her head back and lolling it around in a stretch. Steve pressed his lips together in a firm line, before exiting the room, quietly closing the door on his way out.

Y/N bit her lip to remain as silent as possible until she was sure Steve was out of ear-shot.  That’s the thing about him- when he’s not on a mission, when their lives weren’t on the line, he wasn’t stealthy. At all. The dark might have masked the shadow, but his reflection in the window was still visible.

Sighing, which she seemed to be doing a lot of lately, she crawled into bed, Bucky’s sweatpants and a t-shirt he had brought home for her after a simple mission covered her body, but she still felt uncomfortably exposed, even after tucking the blankets as close to her body as possible. She checked her phone, hoping to see at least one text message from an old friend, but nothing. She shoved it off the bed and it hit the ground with a loud thud. Burying her head in her pillow, she tried a million different things to distract her of what he had done to her and her life, but no dice. He was all she could think about.

She felt betrayed. She felt violated. She felt hurt. But most of all, she felt dirty. It seemed like all she had been doing lately was taking showers, hoping that somehow it would wash away the mental scars she had been harboring.

While she was happy and proud of herself for getting out of the relationship, she wished she had gotten out of it before this happened. Or in this case, before the past 6 months happened. She itched at her skin when her skin crawled at the thought of him touching her again.

She nearly jumped out of bed at the overwhelming thoughts and began pacing around her room quickly, as if she was looking for something. Her hands went up to her ears and she could feel a scream coming on and she bit the insides of her cheeks to suppress it. She dropped to the floor, bent over with her face to the ground as she willed the memories to die off. Her whole body felt the pain of the thoughts radiating through her.

Sniffling, she pushed herself off the ground and onto her feet, wrapping her blanket tightly around her. She walked out into the hall where all of her team’s bedroom doors were. 10 doors, 5 on the left, 5 on the right. On the left was Bruce’s, yours, Nat’s, Clint’s, and Bucky’s. The right was Steve’s, Sam’s, Thor’s, Tony’s, and Wanda’s.

Y/N knew that her team had opened up an “open-door” policy where she could come in any time of any night if she couldn’t sleep. Usually, she’d sleep with Bucky or Wanda. But tonight, she felt so lost in her own thoughts that she couldn’t even decide that. She looked sadly at each door, tears forming in her eyes out of pure exhaustion. It was only one in the morning, an early night for the Avengers, but tonight, they were all snug in bed, sleeping blissfully, and Y/N envied them. Not being able to decide and certainly not wanting to go back to her room, she plopped onto the hallway floor in between Nat and Clint’s doors.

Using the fluffed up corner of her blanket as a pillow and the rest of it to keep her warm, she forced herself to close her eyes and slowly but surely drift off to sleep.

30 minutes later found Sam and Bucky walking back from an evening sparring session, laughing quietly to each other as they entered the living hall. Sam was the first one to stop when he saw Y/N sleeping, her back pressed as close to the wall as possible and using a portion of her blanket as a pillow. Bucky stopped second and they looked at each other, knowing what this was about. He went to approach her, but Sam reached his hand out, putting it against Bucky’s chest to stop him from getting closer. “I think she’s saying something.” Bucky gave Sam a look and pushed his hand off, slowly getting closer until he was kneeling next to her. He leaned in closer and as soon as he heard the words rolling loosely off her lips, he sat back, looking at Sam with a look that said it all.

Sam followed Bucky, and he felt his heart break. She was repeating, “ruined” like a broken record. Bucky pursed his lips together and put his arms out, ready to grab her and take her back to bed with him, but Sam stopped him.

“I have a better idea.”

The next morning, Y/N quickly felt all the bones in her body hating her for sleeping on the floor before she had even opened her eyes. She turned to roll over and face the wall when she heard snoring coming from next to her head. She peeked one eye open, confused.

And that was when she saw it.

Each and every Avenger, including Vision, were positioned like a Tetris board beside her. Each in their own sleeping bag and pajamas.

Broken (1/?)

Genre: Angst
Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader
Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence
Word Count: 2.3k

Originally posted by minyoongiaesthetic

The air was cold as you waited by the boardwalk. Your nerves were on high as you anticipated his arrival. Since you have been seeing Manny, your boyfriend, Yoongi had been neglected. Your best friend of 8 years and you barely talked to him. This relationship with Manny was mentally draining. He neglected your feelings and treated you like shit. But, for some strange reason, you stuck by his side. He may be a little rough with you, but you believed the love was mutual.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

[5:34 PM]: Hey, I’ll be there in 5 mins – Sugarush

“Fuckhe’s actually coming.” you thought. 

Yoongi was one of your lazier friends. You were hoping he would just completely bail on you. Now that he was on his way, you were beginning to freak out. It was going to be awkward. You hadn’t spent more than ten minutes with him in over a month. Plus, you’d heard that he hated your boyfriend. Jimin had described it as a “fiery, burning passion” kind of hate.

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Oops, spoilers! (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

Requested by anon: “Hello there! Could you do a Phillip x reader? Maybe he could be flirting with some girls and you roll your eyes and all that and he tries to flirt with you? THANKS FRIEND”

Masterlist Requests

This was really fun to write! Thank you, and I hope you like it!

So this is a one shot I did. It takes place in an AU where the reader attends their freshman year at college. 

Warnings: None. I think. Yes, this is pretty much all fluff! 

Word count: 1,476

It was your freshman year at college, and you had barely started to unpack your dorm. After only three days of classes, you had realized that you’d have to do a lot more reading to pass this particular class than you initially thought. In High school, you pretty much aced all your classes without any bigger issues, and that is why you were a little bit chocked by the workload of reading you would have to do here to even begin to understand what the professor was talking about.

And that is why you were now sitting in the library at 8 p.m alone. You were closing in on your fifth hour of intense studying, and it had begun to take it’s toll on you. When you first arrived, the library had been filled with people, both studying alone and in groups, but as the hours passed they dropped of one by one.

All you wanted to do right now was to go back to your dorm, snuggle up in your bed with a cup of hot chocolate and your laptop and watch some netflix shows. You quietly cursed this old (and probably dead) writer whom, in the sixties, wrote this essay in the most academic, hardest-to-understand language he possibly could. With a big sigh, you let your forehead rest on the table for a second, only to be ripped from your state of despair by a few giggles.

You looked up, and saw a bunch of girls in a group looking at something. They were gathered in a c-formation, slightly blocking you from seeing what they were laughing at. Slightly annoyed, you began to fiddle with your headphones, but stopped as soon as you saw what they were laughing at.

Or rather WHOM.

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A Different Mask

Hi this is bad but I’m posting it anyway

The world of the Phantom Thieves was a hilly one. There were challenges and calm, dangers and warm moments. But all the Phantom Thieves had one thing in common: they went through their pain together. They had been there for each other when nobody else possibly could be. When one Thief couldn’t be there, there was always another to help with whatever pain one had. They were, as they say, thick as thieves. All the Phantom Thieves had reached one unconscious conclusion, as well: none of them had been through as much as their leader. They all agreed on it, even if they didn’t know it.

Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

The group would always be there for each other. Akira knew that fully well. Yet he never leaned on them when things got rough in his head. They all relied on each other, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to put his problems on their shoulders. Whenever his confidence wavered in a Palace, the team was always hyping him up. But that’s all they saw.

They didn’t see his emotions outside the Metaverse. Those were his only secret. They didn’t know about his nightmares. They didn’t know the reason he listened to all of their problems was so they didn’t end up like him. He wanted them to have someone to turn to. So he locked his feelings away to be the cool and collected leader he was. Supposedly.

He kept his trauma inside. He kept the anger he felt when his friends were taunted and teased contained. He tried to make the comments from the kids at Shujin go in one ear and out the other. Whenever someone looked at him with that look of disapproval, he oh so tried to shake it off. But it all made him have days where everything just felt… numb. Like nothing he did mattered. These days were the days he thought about betrayal. Where he thought about his friends leaving him behind. Abandoning him.

Akira Kurusu was scared.

Today was a day where his feelings slipped themselves into every crack of his thoughts they could find. They partially distracted him at school, made his comments to his friends sound half-hearted when he truly meant them, kept his responses to Sojiro short, and made him reluctantly obey Morgana when he told him to sleep.

“Hey, Akira, what’d you get on the third question of the test? I put B, but I’m not very confident in my answers,” Ann sighed, resting her head on her hand. She had her mouth in a pout with her genuine look of unconfidence.

“I got B, too,” Akira responded. He sounded uninterested, but he really wanted to boost Ann’s spirits.

“Oh, great!” Ann said with a smile. “That makes me feel better.”

She spun back around when the next teacher walked in the room. He didn’t miss her look of slight concern while she turned.

“Welcome back. How was school?” Sojiro asked when the bell rang above the door to LeBlanc.

“Good, as always,” Akira responded, it didn’t come out as he intended it to.

Sojiro just laughed softly, “An answer I’d expect from you.”

He frowned as Akira moved towards the stairs, absentmindedly wiping away at a glass.

“So, you ready to go to bed?” Morgana asked later.

“Yep,” Akira replied, sliding under the covers. “I’m tired.”

“For once,” Morgana said sarcastically. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Akira turned on his side and shut his eyes.

He didn’t see Morgana jump on the bed and give him a worried look. He just felt him curl up next to him and release a sigh.

Akira had a nightmare. He was back in Okumura’s Palace. A crowd of worker robots surrounded him and his friends. They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They fought and they fought to no avail. Akira had to watch as his friends fell around him, one by one.

Ann was bleeding from a wound on her head. Makoto’s arm was broken at the elbow, told by it’s odd angle. Yusuke was so beaten he couldn’t stand. Futaba was trapped outside the circle, not hurt but in danger. Morgana was struggling to stay conscious. Ryuji’s leg had given out on him due to the stress. Haru was standing mostly uninjured, but her father’s shadow was pestering her with “Okumura Daughter” duties. Akira was helpless he couldn’t do anything. He was exhausted. He fell to his knees.

“This is what brats like you get for meddling in the wrong business,” Okumura walked to Akira. “You get beat.”

There was a gun shot, but Akira missed it. He woke with a start. He was shaking. He felt lightheaded. He couldn’t focus. He pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed them tight. He didn’t notice Morgana stir next to him.

Morgana didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to risk Akira’s panic getting worse. Instead he just pretended to shift in his sleep.

Akira’s shaky hand reached for the windowsill. He grabbed his phone and checked the group chat. Nobody had said anything since their final goodnights. He wanted to talk with someone, anyone. But who would be awake at this time of night? He gave in.

Akira: Is anyone awake?

Ryuji: yeah

Ann: yep

Futaba: mhm

Yusuke: Yes.

Haru: I am.

Makoto: So we’re all awake at this ungodly hour?

Ryuji: i couldnt sleep

Ann: Me neither

Ann: I keep falling asleep and waking up again

Haru: I get how you feel, I was just thinking of texting you all myself.

Yusuke: I am only awake because Futaba is keeping me up with her constant messaging.

Futaba: this is important stuff im sending you!

Yusuke: You are sending me pictures of foxes in costumes.


Makoto: So in one way or another… We all are having a struggle with sleeping.

Ryuji: thats what it looks like

Ryuji: aww man i wish we could meet up

Ryuji: im not even sure if i feel tired anymore

Ann: I mean, it’s almost 5, we could meet up anyways?

Makoto: When did everyone go to bed?

Ryuji: 10

Ann: 9:45

Haru: Nine ‘o clock.

Yusuke: Eleven

Akira: 10:30

Futaba: ive taken naps throughout the day so im not really tired

Makoto: I see.

Makoto: Well, I guess we all got reasonable hours of sleep.

Makoto: I will permit this once, and only because we are all in the same boat here.

Ryuji: all right!

Ann: Yes! I’ve always dreamed of doing something like this!

Yusuke: Where should we meet?

Ryuji: how about Akira’s place? is that ok? the place doesn’t open until 8, right?

Akira: Yeah, it should be fine.

Haru: What about Mona? Is he awake?

Akira poked the cat with his finger. His hand still felt slightly shaky, but he was calming. Morgana meowed in reply, but rolled onto his side to look up at Akira.

Akira: He’s up.

Futaba: Great! See you all there!

Akira sat his phone screen down on his bed. Morgana now laid on his stomach, his tail swishing around.

“What’s up?” he asked drowsily.

“Everyone’s coming over. No one could sleep except you,” Akira replied, semi-sarcastic.

“Ok, might wanna fix that bedhead of yours a bit, though,” Morgana replied.

Futaba was quick to hop onto Akira’s bed, sitting criss-cross for once. Ryuji sat on one end of the couch and Ann on the other, stretching her legs out across Ryuji’s lap. Makoto and Haru sat on the floor by the sofa. Yusuke simply took a chair.

“Man, I’m glad to be outta my house. There was no chance of me sleepin’ anymore,” Ryuji groaned.

“Every time I shut my eyes, they just wanted to open again,” Ann complained through a partial yawn.

“I would fall asleep for an hour at a time. It’s rare I sleep like that,” Haru shook her head.

“Do we all have something on our mind that’s keeping us up?” Makoto questioned why this was happening.

“Umm… not that I can think of,” Ann answered.

“There’s nothing that would keep me up at night except Futaba,” Yusuke commented.

“Shut it, Inari,” Futaba responded.

Akira fumbled for words. He ran a hand through his hair in thought. While the others maintained a steady conversation on sleep habits, Akira was lost in his thoughts. He wanted to tell them. He didn’t want to keep his emotions a secret anymore, they deserved to know. They cared about him and should know when he’s feeling down. But how could he start? He didn’t have to.

“Akira? You ok?” Morgana asked, tail swishing. “You look kind of out of it.”

“Now that he mentions it, ya do, dude. What’s up?” Ryuji is quick to follow up.

Akira hesitates, “There… There’s something I need to tell you all.”

Akira talked the most he had ever talked at once then. He told them about his nightmares of losing them and everything he’s ever known. He told them about his emotions building up and how he felt like crap on those certain days. He poured his heart out in a matter of minutes because he wanted to stop hiding this. He wanted to stop being scared. He talked about the trial and being sent to Tokyo by his parents and how it made him feel so… abandoned. Betrayed.

“Akira… You know you can talk to us, man,” Ryuji was frowning though he was definitely concerned.

“Yes, you will always be one of us,” Yusuke spoke, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Mhm, text me whenever and I’ll be sure to respond!” Futaba nodded encouragingly.

“We will always be there for you, Akira,” Makoto had slid closer and placed a hand on his knee. “Wherever we may be, we will always be willing to talk.”

Akira felt his hands get shaky again. But there was no fear or panic this time, just relief. They still saw him as Joker, their leader. Their tactician. Their friend.

“I never would have known this affected you so much if you hadn’t told us,” Ann frowned guiltily.

“Yeah, I feel bad,” Ryuji looked sad. He faced Akira seriously. “Just worry about yourself, man, before you worry about what others say.”

“They don’t know you like we do, anyways,” Futaba added.

Akira nodded. His face was hot. He was struggling to keep his shaky hands under control. He felt tears welling behind his eyes. Why was he still trying to keep his emotions in?

“I’m glad you told us about this,” Haru smiled at him warmly.

“You can surely rely on us as much as we have relied on you, leader,” Yusuke says assuringly.

Futaba quickly hugged Akira’s arm when he began to cry. It ended up with all of the Phantom Thieves on or around his bed. Ann was on his other side, head on his shoulder. Ryuji sat on the other side of Futaba, his hand lingering close to Akira. Makoto was kneeling in front of him, clasping a hand in both of hers. Yusuke and Haru sat in chairs on either side of her, leaning in close to fill the circle.

Akira’s free hand was on his face, wiping away tears that kept being replaced. Morgana squeezed in and curled up in his lap, nudging him with his nose.

“We’re a team, Akira. Teammates never leave another behind,” he said, closing his eyes.

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had always had one thing in common: they shared their pain together. And they all awakened to one more thing; Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

Shadows (1/?)

Title: Shadows (Part 1/?)

Fandom: Marvel

Word Count: 700

Characters: Peter Parker, Reader

Warnings: abusive father (a spoiler but it’s good for a warning to let ya’ll know)

Requested?: No

Notes: I’m alive!

Originally posted by axeken

The sound of shoes pounding the pavement echoed throughout the tunnel as the man tried to get away from whatever he was running from. As the man turned around to look over his shoulder to see if they were still following him, he tripped over his own feet, causing him to come tumbling down. Slowly, the man’s vision cleared, only for him to see a dark shape coming towards him. He then started to scoot away from the figure as he put his hands up to cover his face.

“Please. Please!”

Then he saw nothing.

“Hey psst. (Y/N), gotta wake up now.” You heard a soft voice whisper to you, although it was muffled by your sleepy mind. As hands then started to shake you, you groaned and opened your eyes, only to be met by big brown ones.

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Stalker {M}

(A/N): This is my first english smut y’all!! I’m not sure if it’s good as it looks like hehe I’d some help here ♥ I hope you guys like it! Enjoy xx - admin Mel

Rating: Mature
Pairing: Jimin x reader
Word Count: 2.3K
Warning: Demon!AU

It started a year ago. The feeling of someone watching me. My every movement followed by some unknown person. It grew stronger as the days passed, and I was never sure if I was crazy or just paranoid.

But then, the first incident happened. Preparing for sleep, freshly showered and warm, my feet padded across the floor, and I drew the curtains closed, hiding me from the streetlights outside. The dark was a comfort, usually. But when I turned, I saw it. Or him.

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Barnes’ Books - The End

After getting not exactly nice anon messages about what I’ve written (and I’m the first to admit it’s not great), I haven’t exactly felt like writing, and I feel like i should apologise that I have. I don’t exactlyhave great self-confidence anyway, so I’m sorry for being a loser.

This isn’t exactly brilliant, AND it’s too long, so I’m sorry. But here it is anyway.

And thank you people who’ve sent me nice messages, I’m going to try and reply to them all tonight, or as many as I can xxx

Barnes’ Books masterlist

Waking up with a hangover is never fun.  Waking up with a hangover on the couch, the morning sun burning your eyes, is less fun. Waking up hungover on a couch to the sound of the cat licking leftover takeaway from a plate, really not fun at all.  But waking up, hungover, sun in your eyes, neck stiff, to the memory that the person you’ve fallen for is marrying someone else – someone they don’t love – and that there’s nothing you can do about it? That’s the worst.

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anonymous asked:

If you do another Matty fic, could it maybe be based on Change of Heart? To sort of mirror the Robbers fic?

Matty Healy Fic

From the day you laid eyes on Matty, you were absolutely infatuated with him. It was the most unromantic way to meet ever, drunk and giggly and flirty in a club, exchanging numbers and sloppy kisses throughout the night. You were obsessed with the way his red-rimmed eyes twinkled in mischief, and the way his cheeks were so flushed, and the way his chapped lips looked so kissable, it had to be a sin.

Matty didn’t remember much of that night, he had drank far too much alcohol than he would’ve cared to admit, which wasn’t unusual. And even if he did remember, he wouldn’t be able to say that was the day he fell in love with you. In fact, if he was being completely honest, it was mostly your breasts that caught his attention from the start. No, the first time Matty felt himself fall for you was your first official date. Everything about you was positively endearing, from the way you said his name, to the way that if you could describe yourself with any two words, they’d be punk rock—even though you were admittedly not very punk rock at all.  You reminded him of someone straight out of a magazine.  Like somehow you just already were the person that you were meant to be. Matty loved the way you always texted him back as soon as you got home, and how you were already going on a second date before the week was up.

You’d been together for almost three years now, and had always considered yourself nothing less than soul mates. Your twenties had essentially revolved around him, spending every free moment you had talking, breathing, thinking Matty.

Lately, you had felt the effects of the honeymoon phase fading.  Whether it was the stress of college weighing down or the fact that you were just growing up, it felt as though Matty’s once endearing behaviors were becoming more of a nuisance on your life.  

You felt guilty for the how irritated Matty’s presence was making you, particularly this evening.

You knew the minute you woke up that it wasn’t morning yet.  Your eyelids felt heavy.  As you peeled them open, the darkness only further proved your point. Everything inside the house was silent.  But from outside, you heard a car alarm going off.  You could feel your heart starting to beat along to the rhythm of the alarm, and your tongue felt numb with the inevitability of who had set it off.  You flip the comforter off from you and let your feet touch the soft carpet before padding out of the bedroom and down the stairs.  

The alarm still hadn’t gone off by the time you reached the kitchen, so you grudgingly grabbed your set of keys from the bowl on the counter, and slipped on a pair of sneakers before going outside to check on the commotion.

Sure enough, Matty wondered around outside of the car, tugging on the handle and banging on the windows drunkenly, as if that would stop the alarm.  

You watched for a moment, assessing just how shit faced he truly was, before snapping the alarm off.  

He let out what looked like a sigh of relief, thinking he did something to shut it off, before turning towards the door and making eye contact with you.

“Babe—“ he says surprised.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you mutter, almost to yourself, before turning on your heels and strutting back inside.  You hear him stumbling after you, knocking into the door before successfully entering the house.

“I thought the house was locked,” he slurs, “so I was gon’ sleep in the car for the night- but then that was locked too.”

In the light you can see the red outline rimmed around Matty’s eyes.  It reminds you of the first day you met him.  His pupils are bulging like a wild animal’s.  Instead of entrancing you and pulling you in for more, they just look pathetic.  Like the eyes of a sad, lost boy.  He’s trying his best to focus on you standing still.  But you begin toeing off your sneakers and decide you’re just too tired to care.

“Where you going?” he asks innocently as you begin to climb the stairs.

“To bed,” you snap, not even bothering to turn back around.  The digital clock on your nightstand reads 2:47am and you lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, remembering the days when you and Matty would stay up well past 2:47pm together.  Matty was the one who introduced you to the concept of a night life.  Before him, you’d been content with going to bed at a normal hour.  You remember it being so exciting at first.  The parties, the alcohol, the drugs.  It was a foreign world that you delved head-first into, Matty by your side the entire time.  

You were twenty four when you met Matty.  You were young, excited, impressionable.  Now, three years later, the original glamor had worn off.  The health effects had caught up to you; things like huffing after climbing one flight of stairs, and building up an increasingly large tolerance for alcohol.  You’d cut back for your own good and you’d stopped attending so many parties with Matty.  The only problem was, you’d thought Matty would follow suit.  You’d thought that his late twenties and your sobriety would hit him with veracity and he’d grow up a bit.  You were wrong.

“You’re twenty seven,” you said to him, “Aren’t you a little old to be getting so stoned?”

Matty got defensive whenever you mentioned cutting back on all the dope he did or alcohol he drank.  So you left it alone.  It wasn’t worth the battle.  

A few moments later you heard Matty trudging up the stairs and into the bedroom.  His shadow moved around the room until he was on his side of the bed.  He collapsed onto the mattress beside you, his scent filling up the room.

You turned over on your side so you’d face him, hoping maybe you two might be able to talk  tonight.  You admitted to be a major contributor to the increasing distance between Matty and you, but you also wanted to make things better.  You felt like you were willing to put in an effort when the same wasn’t always said to be true on Matty’s end.  

He was already breathing steadily in and out by the time you rolled over.  His eyes were shut closed and his hand rested on his rising chest.  You let out a heavy sigh.  In earlier years, you would have rolled into his side, laying your head on his chest or nuzzling his neck, planting soft kisses over his exposed skin.  But tonight you looked at him and shook your head.  You were disgusted with the smell of vodka reeling off from him and instead, you curled as close to the edge as you could get and rolled over, your back facing him.

You’re woken by another alarm in just a few short hours.  This time the noise is coming from the phone charging on your nightstand.  You sigh before turning if off and sitting up.  You rub your eyes grudgingly before getting up to get ready.

You flip the light on as you hover outside your closet, starting the great debate of what to wear for the day.

Matty groans in the bed, pulling the sheets over his head and mumbling something incoherently.  

“What?” you ask.  

“I said shut the god damn light off,” he barks, his face makes a reappearance as he flashes the covers up briefly.

You roll your eyes.  “Just give me like fifteen minutes.”

“Jesus christ,” he snaps before flopping back down onto the mattress.

“Fuck off,” you mutter, “if you went to bed at a normal time, you wouldn’t be so pissy every morning.”

Matty shoots back up at that, “Don’t fucking start lecturing me.  I can’t take anymore of that shit.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” you explain, “I just wish you wouldn’t drink so much.”

“You sound like my fucking mum,” Matty says.  You gaze at his skinny figure hunched over in the bed.  He’s digging into his eyes with the heels of his palm, rubbing what you would assume is the itchiness, away.  

You think back to the first night you and Matty had slept together.  It wasn’t long after you met.  The third date.  He took you to a movie, and he had bought a popcorn for the two of you to share, but you ended up eating the entire thing yourself.  You remember dancing your way to the theater in parking lots and back streets, twirling under the lilac sky to nothing but each other’s laughter.  You knew then that you’d met your soulmate.  

He took you back to his apartment, nothing but a lumpy mattress on the floor and maroon sheets covered in lint.  He had no furniture or food or running water for all you knew.  But the way he cupped your cheek so softly and held you like the most delicate piece of art he’d ever seen, was enough.  It was enough for a lifetime.  

Or so you’d thought.  

You finally look down at your own hands in the mirror, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.  

You briefly contemplate shutting the light off and rushing back to bed.  You can imagine yourself tackling Matty down to the mattress and planting kisses all over his face and collarbones like you used to.  You’d blow off class and just stay in bed all day, limbs wrapped around limbs, breathing each other in.  Just like you used to.  

But Matty acts first.  His voice cuts through the air like a knife being thrown straight into your chest, “Are you ever gonna pick something out or am I gonna be blinding by the goddamn light all morning?”

You can feel the pressure of tears coming on, but you let the anger blink them back.  You glare at him through the mirror for a moment before grabbing a sweatshirt and pair of pants from your closet, and snapping the light off.  

Neither of you say ‘goodbye’ or ‘I love you’ like you used to.  The only noise of departure is the slamming door and your footsteps trudging down the hall.  

You walked through the door that evening after the busiest day of your college career to a bouquet of flowers sitting in the center of the counter.  The assortment of carnations and roses was intricately placed and woven between one another.  Your favorite.  

Matty was always buying you flowers as a way to apologize.  He knew how happy they made you feel.  But tonight, you stared at the beautiful red pedals and felt nothing.

You never considered the possibility of falling out of love with Matty.  You knew from the first time you met him, that he was your soulmate.  The one who made you feel most alive.  He was the light of your dark tunnel of a life.  The one who picked you up and spun you around.  Matty was everything.  

But you put extra emphasis on the past tense part of that statement.  

“Where do you wanna eat?” Matty asks.  He’s driving around downtown, one hand holding the steering wheel, the other a cigarette.  He knew how much you hated him smoking in the car.

You shook your head and continued to stare out into the dark night.  “I don’t care.”

“Helpful,” he muttered.

Instead of commenting back, you just leaned forward and turned up the music.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that all the time!”

“Don’t be like th- Don’t be be like that all the time? Excuse me? Who is being a pain in the ass all the time lately, huh?”

“Well it for sure isn’t me!”

“Oh yeah, true. Because you’re never around.”

“Don’t even go there!”

“Oh I will go there! When was the last time you didn’t go out drinking with George? Or shooting up with fucking who knows who?”

“If I remember correctly, you used to love going out with us.  Wasn’t so bad back then when you were the one getting high all the time!”

You took a deep breath as you turned away from Matty. You used to absolutely hate fighting with him, it’d make you cry and feel guilty and awful for hours.  But lately all they did was fight, and you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad about it. You had genuinely come to hate the time that you spent with him.  And if you were being honest with yourself, you had genuinely come to start to hate him.

“I think we should break up.”  You blurt the words out without processing them in your mind, but the minute you do, you feel a wave of relief washing over you.  You hadn’t been thinking about the specific phrase “break up”, but the concept of a life without him had become your reality.

If it had been years before, you would have broke down crying. You were never good at confrontation, but over the last few months of your life, you had learned to suck it up and compose yourself.

You realized immediately that you should have just walked out then and there without even looking at Matty. It would have been easier, and you’d already be packing the car up by now. But instead, you were facing him, and you knew it was going to be too hard.

His face had fallen.  And he was crying.


His small, tattooed chest was heaving with such force, that you thought his ribcage might burst open.


You shook your head, closing your eyes and breathing out deeply through his nose. You can do this. You can do this. No you couldn’t-

“Babe, I love you.”

You start shaking your head, sympathetically, your heart beating heavily in your chest. You stared at Matty, whose lips were quivering like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted, and you felt the sting in your eyes that had been missing earlier. And you became suddenly aware that you, yourself, were crying, and knew that you had to leave right now or you would never be able to.

“Matty.” you said, voice cracking from the emotion bubbling behind your throat. Your hands shook.

“I mean it. Please, for the love of God, don’t leave. I’ll change, I can be better, I-I can love you more than anything and take care of you..” Matty pleaded, fingers wringing around your wrists then, something you knew meant he was nervous. Your heart clenched then, as you realized how much that you knew about him.

“I can’t.” you said.

“Please don’t leave me..” Matty cried, eyes closing as more tears fell down his cheeks. “You’re the love of my life. I can’t live without you.”

You felt your entire body start to shake as Matty’s soft words washing over you.  This wasn’t how you wanted to hear all of this. You wanted to have the words said in a different environment, to know that they were real. You closed your eyes, and the first thing that popped into your mind was Matty wrapping his arms around you after your first date.  He planted a sloppy kiss on your lips and told you that he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life memorizing the color of your eyes and for the first time, you felt so, so loved.

“You’re just saying that.” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“No, no, no.” Matty tittered, and you sucked in a gasp as you felt Matty suddenly right in front of you.

“Baby, you’re my everything. I love you more than anything.” Matty’s breath was warm across your cheek as he spoke, it smelled of cigarettes and wine.

His calloused fingers ran over your cheeks, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to do this.

“Y/N..” Matty mumbled, face closer than it had been in so long.

A tear fell down your face just as Matty pressed his wet lips against your own.

More tears fell from your eyes as you closed them again, letting yourself fall back into the kiss and the vicious cycle of being in love with Matty Healy.

of written feelings and words with meaning

Summary: Recently, Dan’s become addicted to this writing blog. He’s so addicted to it in fact, that he might as well be in love with it. The writer seems to say exactly how it feels and he finds himself wishing he had someone who was so deeply in love with him to write for him like that. Little does he know that there is already someone doing that and he’s closer than he thought.

Phil, on the other hand, has his own feelings and secrets to keep.

Excerpt:  For he was more than happy to stand at the shore, watching the tide roll than to submerge himself into the water, get whisked away by the waves, and before he knew it, he’d be too lost to find his way back.

Words: 5k+

Genre: Fluff, Angst (??)

A/N: FOUR DAYS. THIS TOOK ME FOUR DAYS. Anyyas, this was a whole lot of fun to write and I guess this is my year-end gift as well as my HOLY SHIT GUYS THANKS FOR 1.4K YA’LL ARE AMAZING GIFT.

“his laugh was a work of magic
filling my lungs with fresh air
he brought colour to a life so tragic
and held a heart with utmost care

yet he was a hero who didn’t know he was one
a knight saving people he couldn’t see
i would gladly give him the sun
even if he wouldn’t know it was me

oh what a cruel god rules my life
i write for a man who doesn’t know
and despite it, i hold unto the knife
cause i’ve planted a seed that has grown

so, i sit back and watch him live
because many say we met through fate
and bit by bit my heart i give
although i won’t get it back, ‘till kingdom come i’ll wait”

Dan’s eyes were focused on the addicting blue of the screen (he could think of a blue that looked much better than that), scrolling mindlessly, occasionally breathing out through his nose as a desperate attempt of a laugh when he came across the poem. With text posts, he’d normally read it then just scroll on. However, this one managed to hold him captive, a whisper of his mind told him to pay it more attention.

And so he did.

The brunet clicked on the poem’s original poster. Immediately, he was greeted by a monochrome theme with the title Words Written with Feeling in Search of a Meaning and he must admit, it took a while for his sleep-deprived mind to understand it.

For hours, Dan read this writer’s words. From what he could gather, the writer was a man and most of what he’s written was so tragically beautiful. His way with words was astonishing. They made you feel as if you were the one who felt his emotions.

Granted, most of his writing was in first person but despite that, the way he described his thoughts danced on the line of vague and descriptive. It was symbolic. His words made you think of their meaning enough to get a grasp on the complications that were his feelings.

Besides, he found it ironic that the blog was monochrome for the words of the writer were so colourful. Iridescent hues lacing between the curves of every letter. Splashes of colour highlighting every word.

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anonymous asked:

"all I needed was a call"

Authors note: I am so sorry this has taken so long to do, I have just been trying to figure out what to write about and it didn’t just hit me until now. It is a cliche concept but oh well. Enjoy my lovelies. 
List of my other Prompts found HERE

One A.M; no call.
Two A.M; no call.
Three A.M; no call.
Four A.M; no call.

It is four-thirty in the morning, your patience is wearing thing, your emotions beginning to get the better of you as you begin to worry about where he is and if he is okay. It is unusual for him to not answer texts or calls, just as much as it is unusual for him not to let you know when he doesn’t intend on coming home until the early hours of the morning. 

He is the kind of boyfriend that tends to keep you updated, by no means are you acting as a motherly figure and forcing him to text you his every move, or giving him a curfew of when to be home— he does it voluntarily to keep you updated and aware of his whereabouts. 

You call his phone one last time, counting the each ring before you are again left with hearing his voicemail, “Damnit Styles.” you mutter as you hang up the phone call, looking around the dimly light living room, unaware of what you are meant to do. There is a good chance that he is perfectly fine and perhaps at the studio still, or he could be out with friends, or he could also be lying in a ditch somewhere unresponsive… You don’t know, and that is what fucking scares you. Not knowing. 

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Bruce Wayne/Batman X Reader- She Seems Interesting (Part 2)

Warning: Swearing, mentions of sexual assault and sexy times, alcohol consumption

Part 1

After you left Bruce and his son at the dock, you immediately headed towards Jason’s apartment.  Anger and hurt was all you could feel during the ride there, but not all of that rage was directed at Bruce.  Most of it was meant for Talia the psycho rapist who decided to have a kid behind Bruce’s back.  You knew it wasn’t the kid’s fault for being born into this, so he was off the hook for now.  Talia had admitted to doing all of this to Bruce, but for what reason?  Having Damian created didn’t seem like the whole story to you, and that meant you were going to have to dig deep into the League of Shadows to figure out what.  Bruce was labeled as the ‘Great Detective’ by everyone, but you were just as good as him, maybe even a bit better.  Along with your education and training, you became street-smart at a young age and learned how to take care of yourself as well as figure out who was messing with you or your father.  While you were doing this, Bruce was the one who had everything he needed to prepare for his later years as Batman, but his riches could never buy what you had developed as a kid.  That was the problem with Bruce, he never really experienced what living on the streets could do to you.  That’s why you and Jason bonded so quickly, and also why you’re his favorite.  You taught him to fight dirty while Bruce taught him the fancy stuff that you never really understood.  You looked after him during patrol and helped him out with homework.  Even if you didn’t have a degree in English, you were a damn good engineer.  

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a fluffy scenario whit kuroo, something realy really sweet please, thank you!! You are the best , i hope you can pass through everything easly

This was a pretty vague so I did my best with what I was given. Hopefully this was sweet enough! Also guys, please spread the word that I’m taking commissions as well as accepting donations to my gofundme account to make money for my classes so I can graduate. I’m no where near my goal and need help! :’(

-Admin Lana

Love was something breathtakingly beautiful in its own way, opening your eyes to new opportunities each moment you spent together. Kuroo only seemed to bring out the best in you and he became a better man because of you. It was only a matter of time before your long-standing relationship reached a head, both of you desiring something more permanent along the lines. You didn’t need to verbalize it, Kuroo was already two steps ahead. He knew you well enough by now to tell what you were thinking.

Phase one of his plan had long been completed seeing as he had found the perfect ring that was a representation of his love for you. The next part was simply to lure you out to the rendezvous point where he’d finally ask the question your ears have been longing to hear. With the help of Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Kenma, hopefully it’d prove to be successful. 

Kuroo waited anxiously at the edge of the pier where he waited, glancing at his phone every few moments in hopes of seeing a text from Tsukishima. “God, I hope Tsukishima doesn’t slip up and let her know what’s waiting for her down here.”

Kenma arched an eyebrow, pausing from stringing up the tea lights around the pillars to patio at the end of the pier which was meticulously decorated in delicate lights and your favourite flowers. He only hoped it was enough to make this moment memorable. “Do you really think Tsukishima would let such details slip? You know better than anyone how tight-lipped he can be.” He watched as Kuroo wrung his hands, a conflicted expression crossing his features. “You’re worrying to much.”

How could he not though? His life was about to change for the better because of four small words. It wasn’t that he doubted that you would agree to marry him, but rather if this would be good enough for you. There wasn’t enough words that could accurately describe the emotions he felt when he gazed at you in the early morning light or when your lips quirked up in the slightest fashion when he’d crack a corny joke. In short, you were everything to him.

The sound of his phone ringing was enough to shake him out of his stupor, looking at the screen showing a text from the blonde. They had just arrived. “They will be here any moment! Take your places!” 

Bokuto crossed the cobblestone to his best friend, offering him a soft smile. “You’re going to make _____ very happy. You deserve each other.” It was warming to hear those words, Kuroo falling into the male’s hug, grateful to have him at his side. The two moved to take their places, Kuroo moving to hide behind one of the pillars.

“Kei, please tell me this is the last stop. You’ve been dragging me around all day, and quite frankly I’m tired.” You whined, grasping at the tall male’s arm in a dramatic fashion. It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out considering you were good friends since childhood, but normally there was a point of destination in mind.

“Quit whining, you’ve been moping all day. Do you not like to hang out with me?” Tsukishima flashed you an incredulous look, striding down the boardwalk slowly, fingers discreetly moving across the screen of his phone.

You nearly snorted at that, surprised that he was even capable of looking incredulous. “I’ve think I’ve had enough of your snarky comments all day. Sometimes I can’t tell you and Kuroo apart.” At that he rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of your lover, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” The cryptic message didn’t slip past you as Kei fell behind you, urging you forward with a sweep of his hands.

“What do you mean? He’s not-” The air that lay captured indoor lungs rushed out in a flurry of your amazement. It was unlike anything you had seen before, something more along the lines of a romance movie. Beneath your feat were rose petals strewn across leading to the pillars of the patio, tea lights strung around the railings and the columns, illuminating the night. But that wasn’t what was most prevalent, but rather the man standing in front of you dressed to the nines. This must be why Tsukishima had urged you to ‘dress appropriately’. 

Kuroo said nothing, but offered out a hand. Your heart fluttered, having an inkling of what this could possibly be about, but still in awe nonetheless. “So this is what you’ve been up to when you said you were busy.”

“Do you like it?” He breathed, gently taking your hand into his own. 

You gazed around once more before a brilliant smile broke out across your face. “It’s gorgeous,Tetsu.  Did you do this all by yourself?”

“I had a little help.” At that a few shadows moved forward to reveal Bokuto and Kenma. Tsukishima stepped towards the sidelines to join them. He was taking a knee before you were processing the significance of this gesture, ears finely attuned to the words spilling from his lips.

“We’ve been together for years and you’ve put up with a lot from me. There isn’t a word that can accurately describe the emotions I feel towards you nor can I express them in a manner that suits you.” He reaches behind him to grasp the velvet box that has taken refuge in his nightstand prior to this evening. “I love you and I will continue to say this until you grow tired of it. I want to wake up next to you each morning and hold you in my arms at night. I want to see you cheering me on in stands at games not as my girlfriend, but as my wife. If you’ll have me, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” 

The breath hitched in your throat, eyes already beginning to gather tears. This was something you have been dreaming of for a while, and the fact that it was becoming a reality was far too much for you to handle. Finally you tore your eyes away from those golden hues to take a peek at the ring. 

“Tetsurou…?” You were still transfixed on the ‘ring’ as you spoke his name. Your boyfriend was a dork and had quirky tendencies, but this went beyond him. “Is this a joke?”

Kuroo froze, glancing down at the box in shock, not quite believing what  he was looking at. The diamond ring that was supposed to be nestled between the folds was replaced with a ring pop. “What the he-”

Laughter was not what he expected to grace his ears, peeking up at you as you giggled gleefully, wiping the tears from your eyes. “You know me too well. This is the perfect ring for me.” 

“So…is that a yes?”

“Of course I’ll marry you.” He slipped the candy onto your finger before he rose up to meet you in a tender kiss, the three clapping from the sidelines, although internally Kuroo was nearly at his wits end. Where did the real ring he was supposed to give you?

A boisterous laugh resounded from behind you, and you turned with a huge smile tugging at your lips. “Congratulations you two! I couldn’t be happier for the both of you.” Bokuto pulled you in a big before turning to Kuroo, squeezing him tight. “Thought you might want this back.” He slipped a small box into his hand before stepping away.

Kuroo couldn’t help but sigh in relief, rolling his eyes at his antics. “I swear, you almost made me have a heart attack! What was I going to tell her if I couldn’t find the ring?” He whispered before pulling away with an exhausted expression.

“As much as you like that ring pop, I think you’ll like this one even better.” He slipped the metal ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly against your skin as if it was meant to be there. 

A shriek of joy escaped your lips as you dove onto him in a firm embrace, meeting his lips over and over in a series of tender kisses. “I can’t wait until the day that I become Mrs. Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“That day is coming sooner than you think, baby.”

Perks, Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader (part two)

Prompt: Reader is a famous actress and gets shipped with Lin by the Internet.

Word-count: 1,643 (Ahahaha I’m a dork)

Warnings: Cursing (which isn’t new), but other than that we’re in the clear, fam. 

Note: *deep breath This was a mess, and pretty fucking bad, but I’m too trash to care. Also, the response to Perks has been a little overwhelming! Like, thank you guys so much for liking it and sharing it, y’all are legit the fucking bomb. Love you all so much. Anyway, enjoy the dumb! 

Part One

You had been in London for two weeks now.

You were there mostly for business reasons, working out where exactly you’ll be recording your next album (your third by now), filming a few scenes for the new Tarentino flick (you weren’t leading, but he was apparently insistent that he get you in somewhere), appearing, it seemed, on every single British late night show, talking about next career moves, (inevitably) your personal life, projects you may or may not have signed on to.

If asked, and if you answered honestly, it was all getting a bit exhausting. The work was a basic component of your life and you were, for the most part, used to it, but the back-to-back interviews and the constant appearances were going to run you to the ground if it didn’t let up.

“They want you on Graham Norton,” Nancy said, passing you your itinerary and a few other papers as your hair was spritzed with another coat of hair spray. “You don’t have to answer today, although it would be better if you did.”

You quickly scanned your rather full schedule, before looking up to allow the makeup artist assigned to you (you didn’t quite catch her name. It rolled off like something foreign and had a lot of R’s) to swipe a bit of eye shadow on your bottom lash-line. After a few more tweaks, it appeared she was done, passing you the mirror as she began packing up. The look was what you usually wore for evening appearances, so it passed your requirements quite easily.

The itinerary was, quite frankly, routine and therefore didn’t receive as much attention as the rest of the stack Nancy handed to you. There were a few scripts, and you cast them aside with care, knowing that at this point there was barely time to really check them over. There was a request to get on Ryan Seacrest’s radio show once you got back to the States (which you agreed to, since you already sorta owe the guy for trashing his house that one party). (A story that, while interesting and riveting, was for another time.) At the bottom of the stack lay the Graham Norton request, and as you read through it, a deep sense of dread began to brew in your stomach, and you didn’t understand why until you reached the planned guest list.

It was impossible to ignore.

Lin-Manuel Miranda.

The list seemed to swell around him, like even the mere presence of his name was enough to cast the rest in mere shadow.


Hold the fucking phone.

You took a second glance at the list. Your name and Lin’s name were the only ones on it. Eyes growing to the size of dish saucers, you turned to Nancy, who was looking rightfully sheepish.

“Apparently you’re both in town.” she said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Norton is adamant that you appear.”

“Norton is a crafty son-of-a-bitch, that’s what.” you practically seethed. You knew what he was up to; Nancy knew he was up to; and if Lin had received this list, he probably knew what Norton was trying to pull as well. You were at a moment of pure loss, looking from Nancy to the list and back. “What exactly do I do about this?”

“It’s completely up to you.” Nancy said, and you could trace the slightest hint of pity in her eyes. “If it’ll help, Lin already said yes. I was notified by the execs because they think you’ll need an extra bit of convincing.”

“And they think this is the way to do it?” you asked, although it kind of was. Already worn so thin from a tiring day, you were one step behind conceding entirely. “Did they tell you what kind of questions he was going to be asking?”

“I read over what he had planned. All general things!” she added hastily at your sharpening stare. “But I wouldn’t put it past Norton to pull a trick out of his sleeve in the heat of the moment.”

There wasn’t much time for anything else, as a runner knocked and poked his head through the door to tell you that you were on in a fifteen minutes.

“All right,” you sighed when the runner disappeared, sliding off your chair and slipping on your heels. “Tell them I’ll do it.”

At this point, you thought as you were lead to the stage, smiling at the applauding audience, what else do I have to lose?

The news broke out quicker than you would have liked, but, as Nancy patiently reminded you, the press did as it was wont to do. You didn’t give too many comments when the announcement was made, that Y/N Y/L/N and Lin-Manuel Miranda were indeed appearing together on The Graham Norton Show on Friday night, apart from openly poking fun of the coincidence (it wasn’t a coincidence, but you had to put up some sort of show right?) on Twitter.

You weren’t alone in that department; Lin had taken to Twitter as well when the commercial featuring the two of you aired, answering a fan question and essentially breaking the Internet.


Lin-Manuel Miranda:@ham4trash Yep! Fingers crossed I don’t fuck it up. Wish me luck kids!

Attached to the tweet was GIF of an overexcited cat, which you cracked a smile at. You scrolled further down his profile, virtually aw-ing at his good morning tweets and cackling at some of the more humorous ones.

Lin-Manuel Miranda: My dad just texted me. Told me not to do anything stupid. Not making any promises! #Elaine4Ham

You replied to him before you could think it through.

Y/N Y/L/N: @Lin_Manuel Oy US Navy, enough with the hyping me thing. Meeting me might ruin the image of perfection.

Within minutes he had tweeted back.


Of course, everyone jumped on the interaction, and by the time you opened your phone the next day, you had to scroll through piles and piles of notifications and emails, all asking about Lin and if you’d met or seen each other before. You ignored most of them and instead went straight to your business emails.

But even your business emails were full of the same questions, albeit with less screaming and emoticons and more pointed and gentle prodding.

You flinched, and opened Nancy’s message first. Best to get it over with.

The rest of your morning wasn’t as eventful, if anything just louder, with your phone buzzing every two seconds, texts from friends and family and management alike; you went to work, talked your manager’s (Brian, who was lovely but also, quite sadly, not as there as Nancy was) ear off concerning the album details, and on your lunch break, you decided to walk around and see if there were any shops you could get decent food from.

Maybe it was because the gods had a deep perverse pleasure in fucking you over. Maybe it was because fate had other plans and some other spiritual bullshit. Maybe it was because you were quite honestly fucking useless with directions.

You had been trying to outrun a few stubborn paparazzi, and without thinking, without planning, you had managed to land in the arms of the very person you were somewhat dreading to face.

“Whoa there!” Lin said as he caught you around the waist, saving you from falling on your ass.

“Oy, Usnavi, help, SOS,” you said, in an attempt to save face. Lin released some sort of cross between a laugh and a cough as he pulled you into an empty alleyway. You heard the pound of footsteps pass and, pressing a hand hard to your chest, felt your pulse slip back into normality.

“What,” someone panted, “was that about?”

Oh. Right. Lin.

“Paps chasing me, I was near-about running and the assholes decided to run as well. Sorry for demolishing you and everything.” you said, grinning at him to at least get him to calm the fuck down. He wasn’t even the one being hunted and he was practically hyperventilating.

But then you saw Lin freeze, and you were beginning to worry about whether or not the hyperventilating caught up with him before he spoke.

“You’re Elaine,” he said, breathless.

You nodded, a slightly confused smile on your face. You cocked your head to the side, hands going to your waist. “I am. And you’re Usnavi.”

You took his petrification as an opportunity to look at him, really look at him. His hair was as short as it was on the Fallon interview on that dratted night of too much wine and too little comprehension; his eyes were bright, a dark swatch of coffee, and decidedly warm (no joke, it felt like a dunk in a cup hot cocoa, looking him straight in the eye); he was dressed in too many layers and had that delicately rumpled look that shouldn’t suit him as well as it did.

You cleared your throat (this was already getting too weird), held out your hand. “As much as I like Elaine, the name is actually Y/N.”

He took it, grip oxymoronically soft and firm at the same time. “Lin, but you can call me Usnavi if you like that better.”

You grinned at him, which he returned. You chanced a look at your watch. You had thirty minutes left before you were to head back to the film lot. You looked at him again. He was on his phone, but he clicked it shut and slipped it back into his pocket as he looked back at you.

“How about I make it up to you and maybe get you some coffee?”

He smiled, and you noticed passingly that it was too big for his face. “I’d like that.”



So, I have many ways of cutting out characters, and I pick which way to use depending on the scene. In this tutorial I will show you 3 ways to cut out characters for gifs. Let’s get started!

  • Program: Photoshop CS6 Portable
  • Difficulty: Easy (it’s just time consuming) 
  • Previous Knowledge: Basic knowledge on how to make gifs (any PS resource blog will have tutorials on how to make them)

put under a read more because it got quite long

Keep reading

BTS Scenario- Suga x Reader: Good Day

Requested by Anon and @senpoimei​: Can you do a scenario where, reader is looked down a lot by other people especially one girl and her friends. They like Suga a lot but Suga likes the reader because she’s unique please!

Author’s Note: I had fun writing this! The song I used to get some inspiration and the title of the story is Good Day by BTS a song I randomly came across one day and thought was perfect for this scenario! Two people requested similar scenarios so I mashed them together! I hope you all enjoy~<3

**Warnings: Some Swearing**

(Y/N) Your Name

(B/N) Bullies Name

It was yet another day at school, senior year just couldn’t finish fast enough. You stood out among the others at school and though your parents thought it was great that you didn’t conform and you were your own leader, it caused issues at school. Many of the other students weren’t fond of you, probably because they were jealous, or at least that’s what you told yourself. But there was one girl who especially didn’t like you, (B/N) was beautiful, smart, and most importantly had lots of money. She walked with purpose and attitude as she practically ran the place, everybody seemed to just follow her lead and since you never did, she’s never liked you.

You took a deep breath, straightened your posture, and lifted your head high before walking into the dull front doors of the school. Today was going to be  a good day. You tried your hardest to have good days and no matter the struggle the other students may put you through, you walked with grace and your chin up which seemed to make them even more frustrated. You had your backpack on and your sketchbook in hand as you walked through the halls smiling at a few of your friends and others who passed by,  while you made your way to homeroom. As you got closer to your destination you noticed (B/N) standing next to the door with a little posse who all noticed you right away and gave you a swift glance up and down with what seemed to be lazers darting from their eyes. You, being the sarcastic and sometimes not so smart person you are, smiled and nodded at the group walking passed them not the classroom. You sat down at your desk dropping your bag beside you and opened your sketchbook finding comfort and solitude in your art. You suddenly felt a presence creep up beside you as their shadow blocked the light from your book.

“Whatcha drawing?” The sing-songy voice ask, knowing the voice immediately a shy smile crept onto your face as you turned to face the kind-hearted boy who had your heart in his hands from the moment you met him.

“It’s kind of complicated…” You said, “I’m not sure where I’m going with it yet, it sort of resembles flowers but if you turn it this way it kind of looks dark and scary so I’m not sure what it is…” you explained and smiled wider when he chuckled.

“Well I like it!” He exclaimed, “you’re very good at drawing, your unique personality shows through, I really like your style.”

“Thanks Suga, I’m glad somebody enjoys it.” You smiled at hm and he nodded smiling back.

“So, (Y/N)…” His tone become low and serious, you heart immediately speeding up unsure of what was coming, “do you possibly have… The homework finished from last night?”

Your mouth was slightly open as you processed what he just did and tried to slow your pounding heart down.

“I, um, yeah-” You couldn’t respond, (B/N) stormed up to your desk and grabbed your sketchbook.

“OH SO, you think you can be this little sassy bitch and talk to Suga? I’m sorry Suga I should have come in earlier to save you from her weird, I hope you didn’t catch anything from her…” She exclaimed, she flipped through your drawings, and pouted as she rested her head on Suga’s shoulder, continuing to flip through the pages, “These are weird and don’t make any sense…” She grumbled tossing the sketchbook to one of her minions with disgust slather on her face. You stopped watching her and sat, stunned, as two of the girls opened the book and page by page started ripping the drawings out and tossing them to the floor. You were shocked and emotionally hurt you felt paralyzed and couldn’t help but watch as your drawings gracefully fell to the floor, some of them torn into pieces.

(B/N) turned to Suga, “Well, let’s go for walk and maybe go get a coffee or something!” she tried linking her arm with his. He quickly pulled away looking at her as if she had just vomited on him, “Don’t touch me, (Y/N) is kind and nice and has never done anything to any of your guys,” he shouted gesturing to the entire room, “She has a sweetheart, she’s different, and unique. She doesn’t need to follow you and your dumb-ass posse because she’s her own leader and does her own thing! Just leave her alone and grow the hell up! AND YOU TWO, DROP THE BOOK NOW!!” He shouted, shooing everyone out, and ripping the book from the two girls’ hands.

Still stunned you hadn’t realized tears had begun to escape from your eyes. You stared blanking ahead, your breathing irregular, and disbelief plastered on your face. You heard Suga shuffling the many papers on the ground and he let out a deep sigh as he stood up.

“(Y/N)… I’m so sorry..” He whispered as he took a step closer to you. You didn’t say anything you only nodded, your voice stuck in your throat.

“(Y/N)… I’ll fix these drawings. I’ll fix them, I promise.” He assured, trying to make you feel better, again, not confident in your voice you just nodded and looked down at your hands that fumbled with the hem of your skirt. He walked closer and set the papers and what was left of the book down on the desk in front of you. He kneeled down to match your height and gently grabbed one of your hands, softly caressing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

“Here, come on, I’ll walk you home, you should get some rest and calm down.” He decided and guided you to stand. He grabbed your sketched and put them in his bag before grabbing your bag and placing ti on his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers and walked you out of school. You could feel the hot glares and stares as everyone watched the two of you but you were so glad you going home, you just needed a break.

Throughout the day you got texts from Suga asking how you were feeling, reminding you to eat, and prompting you to take more naps. It was about 6:30 at night you had just finished eating dinner with your parents and explained today’s lovely outburst that occurred when your doorbell rang. You were confused but stood up to answer it, as you opened the door your eyes were met with a giant picture frame filled with your drawings. All of the ones that had been ripped up and ripped out of the notebook were taped back together and neatly placed together framed by a dark wooden frame. Slowly Suga emerged from behind the frame as he brought it down from in front of his face. Again you felt tears about to escape from your eyes but this times you were so touched from his incredibly sweet act of kindness.

“I promised I would fix them.” Was all he said as he chuckled and smile forming on his face so wide to reached his eyes. You smiled wide to grabbing the picture and resting it up again the door. You quickly turned back round and wrapped Suga into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!” You whispered burying your head in his shoulder, “I can’t believe you did this…”

“I made a promise and I kept it… I hope you had a good day today (Y/N). I want to make sure you have a good day every day…” He said, pulling away just enough to kiss your forehead before hugging you tight again.