i remember someone posted this but this is my own scan so

Along The Boardwalk

Drabbles

Summary: They always said Kim Taehyung had a you-shaped hole in his heart.
Pairing: Taehyung | Reader
Genre: Fluff + light Smut, Skater Boy AU
Word Count: 12,819
Author’s Note: Inspired by those Taehyung left version concept photos and mainly sparked by a conversation I was having with @an-exotic-writer so naturally I drafted this as a token of my love and no I am definitely not writing this because talking to Missy certainly does not give me heart problems whatchu mean. I’m also tagging @kimvtae because we were screaming about the concept of a skater boy Tae together.

.

You’ve always had a very peculiar habit of being drawn towards the things you couldn’t even imagine yourself doing—although you could argue that’s exactly why you found yourself naturally gravitating towards them in the first place. Unlike most people, who might have been taken by an envious desire to take on certain challenges and obstacles that were most likely out of their league, you found a natural peace chasing after something you couldn’t quite obtain yourself.

Maybe it was your own self-awareness or the fact that you never felt confident enough to branch out towards something that was so clearly on the opposite end of the spectrum from what you were normally use to. You’ve always just been content watching other people take on their passions while you remained on the sidelines with your own hopes and dreams and aspirations. It always excited you to see people participating in their interests—so much so that friends would always humor you that it was always the people rather than the activity they were indulging in that drew you in towards them.

That’s probably why you accepted your best friend’s invitation to leave your apartment for once and drive down to the pier, taking refuge across one of the many skateparks that planted themselves across the oceanfront, beyond the cool sand and ocean breeze of spring. Jeon Jungkook always reprimanded you for rarely having the time to come out and see him perform his new spins and flips, which is probably why he seems much more animated than usual at the prospect of finally getting to show off these new skills to you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

86 and andreil??

86: “Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” (I combined this with a prompt from foxpaws10 from ages ago based on this post, and I kind of warped both of your prompts i hope this is still okaaay basically it’s doctor andrew and that’s all u need to know)

His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.

Andrew chose surgery almost entirely for the distance of it, the sterility of a room with a slab of meat, a tray of knives, and a sickness he can actually cut out.

He’s a doctor because he can be, and patients sometimes like that he doesn’t speak a word to them, like silence equals genius.

He likes that there are some patients that come into the ER unconscious and leave the OR unconscious, and all he has is a problem and a ticking clock. He always solves the problem. He thinks maybe it’s because he is one.

The sinking ship of his Sunday in the emergency room goes from slippery to debilitating with one patient.

Two showy ER doctors with their lab coats off and their sleeves rolled up go into the private room they’ve cordoned off, and they both come out looking pinched in the face with their stethoscopes clenched in their fists.

“He’s a fucking disaster,” one of them says, leaning up against the information desk with his eyes still pulling back to the closed door of the room.

“I know. I thought, I dunno. That the news was exaggerating.”

Andrew tilts his head and listens without making any move to leave his post, filling out inane charts as illegibly as he can.

One of the residents chances a look at him and Andrew makes a point of catching him. The guy startles, then juts his chin.

“Maybe you’ll get along with him, Minyard. He’s as crazy as you.”

“You’ve mistaken the hospital for a playground,” Andrew says mildly. “Give me his chart.”

“What?”

“His chart.”

He looks at his friend, mouth slack, and then the one holding the chart holds it out like a dirty rag.

“He’s Boston’s starting striker,” he stage whispers. Andrew takes the clipboard and ignores him, scanning the details. “We’re not supposed to let any patients know.”

“That Neil Josten is causing a scene ten feet away from them?” he says, and the men titter uncomfortably. “Why should he get the luxury of privacy?”

“How did you—“

“The news is available to everyone, Bryant, you fuck.” He rounds the desk and makes for the closed and shuttered room, dropping the chart in the receptacle outside.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to practice,” someone says behind him, and then someone else, softer, scornful: “surgeons”.

Andrew wrings the door knob and finds himself abruptly face to face with the singular most swollen person he’s ever seen. He’s obviously bolting for it, his gown gaping at the neck and someone’s stolen shoes jammed on. Andrew scans the defiant face, the shock of red hair, the near invisible trail of blood from an incorrectly removed IV.

“Sit down.”

“No.”

Andrew watches Neil Josten— and it is him, one of the handful of strikers on Boston’s team and certainly the most newsworthy — size him up. His eyes run the same circuit Andrew’s would if he were looking to fight his way out: door, threat, surreptitiously behind him for a weapon, back again.

“I’ll drug you,” Andrew says simply. Neil’s good eye, the one that isn’t purpling, goes narrow.

“Are you allowed to say that?”

Keep reading

Regarding Dean

Characters:  Dean, Reader, Sam

Summary:  Sam calls reader to babysit Dean after he’s cursed by a witch.

Warnings:  Angst-ish

Word Count:  1776

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Regarding Dean

The screen lights up on your phone, Sam Winchester’s name flashing on the screen.This can’t be good, otherwise Sam would never, ever call you. Not after everything that happened. Should you answer? You don’t really want to dredge all that shit up. But if he’s calling, it’s important. You’re thumb hovers over the green button. It’s on the third ring before you decide to answer.  

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? It’s me, Sam. Please, don’t hang up, just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thank…thank you. Listen, I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need help, you know that I wouldn’t. But I need you.”

———–

You can’t figure out how Sam knows you’re in the area. You haven’t had contact with Dean or Sam for over year. Is he still keeping tabs on you through the hunter network?  It’s touching in a way, you’ve always had a soft spot for Sammy. Truth is, you miss him.

Why the fuck are you driving to the motel right now? Why would you willingly put yourself in this position? Must be temporary insanity. It’s the only logical explanation. Maybe you should drive straight to the psych ward and check yourself in after this is over.

Keep reading

Uptown Girl

Summary: Y/N comes from one of the richest families in New York. Peter crushes hard on her but knows they could never happen.

AN: hi i’ve come back from the dead lol (this is also gonna be in peter’s POV)

Peter Parker x Reader 

// Masterlist //


Originally posted by spiderholland

“Are you coming over tonight?” My friend, Ned Leeds, said.

“I can’t. I have the Stark internship.” I opened my locker to avoid looking at him. He would see right through my lies.

“Again? Didn’t you go there yesterday too?” Ned leaned against the locker beside me.

“Well, Mr. Stark expects me to work hard. I don’t wanna let him down.”

“Don’t you think you’re working a little too hard?” Ned crossed his arms.

“No! I just want to-”

Keep reading

what happens in vegas pt. 1

*I had to re-upload as i accidentally the original post!*

◇ summary: It was supposed to be a weekend of mischief and fun, but when your ex-boyfriend tags along you soon realize that what happens in Vegas, doesn’t always stay in Vegas

◇ pairing: reader x Jungkook

◇ genre: angst, smut, childhood sweethearts

◇ word count: 6,508

◇ warnings: alcohol use, language, explicit sexual content

“Please tell me why we are going to the airport at 4 in the damn morning?” you groan, handing your suitcase over to your cab driver who is trying hard not to laugh at your current state of sweatpants wrapped in a denim jacket.

Wendy rolls her eyes, “Y/N, we are only going to be in Vegas for 2 nights. We need to make the most of it. Plus, the tickets were like $100 less than if we left later in the afternoon. Just sleep on the plane.”

She gets in the back of the cab, hoping to close the door before your sharp tongue can come with a witty remark. But you aren’t about to let her off the hook that easily. You throw open the door, sliding into the seat next to her.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hear it. You are not going to ruin this for me! It’s my bacholerette party. I only get one” Wendy snaps, holding her hand to your face as you buckle your seat belt.

“If you’re lucky,” you mutter under your breathe, making your best friend smack your thigh loudly.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence as both of you are too tired to try and make conversation, especially since you had been up almost the entire night watching Wendy pick out her clothes for the next 2 nights. Two of you spent almost an hour picking out a black dress that looked identical to every other black dress she owned, but swore was different. As the dark purple circles settled under your eyes this morning, the only thing on your mind was getting through security and popping a Nyquil so that you could spend the rest of the flight in peace.

“We’re here,” Wendy whispers, shaking your shoulder to wake you up after what felt like five minutes. Her eyes shift past you, focusing the on something behind you, “I should have probably told you sooner, but Jungkook is coming.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” pointing to the airport outside the window “You decide to inform me that my ex-boyfriend is coming on this trip right now? You told me two days ago that he wasn’t coming because of work.” you hiss, chasing your best friend out of the car and towards the trunk.

“And he wasn’t going to! But then he called Namjoon yesterday and told him that he had managed to get the time off.” Wendy all but pleads for forgiveness, hiding behind the cab driver.

“You should’ve told him he wasn’t invited! That the plane was completely booked! The hotel was completely booked! Anything!”

She shrugs, “He’s Namjoon’s best friend, Y/N. And he had already bought his ticket, what was I supposed to do?”

You take your suitcase from the driver and make a beeline for the airport entrance, “I’m not speaking to you until we get to the gate.”

Wendy knows better than to push you when you’re upset, that law school and your work had given you a short fuse. Your attitude worked in the courtroom, helping your clients leave feeling happy and content and divorced while they fill your pockets with the end of their marriage. But it didn’t always translate the same to your personal life and most of your loved ones knew to stay far away when you were upset, knowing that your emotional time bomb was slowly ticking away.

It isn’t until you’ve both winded your way around the security line that you turn your attention to your best friend and ask, “Is he on our flight?”

Wendy chews on her lip before answering, “He and Namjoon are already waiting at the gate.”

You take a deep breath, trying your best to mentally prepare yourself for seeing your childhood sweetheart for the first time in almost a year.

Keep reading

Well, Shit. (A Voltron Fanficiton)

You remember when I said I can’t write fanficiton for shit? Well here we go! My best attempt! If you like it please let me know! I’m working on Chapter 2! Takes place after season 2, after finding Shiro (because Shiro will come back I will not accept anything else omg). 

CHAPTER 2 IS NOW HERE: http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/156953215941/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficiton-chapter-2

AND SO IS CHAPTER 3:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157047198811/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-3

ALSO CHAPTER 4:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157157013206/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-4

AND CHAPTER 5:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157254073496/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-5

AND CHAPTER 6:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157296304031/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-6

AND CHAPTER 7!

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157378879001/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-7

CHAPTER 8:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157547824756/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-8

CHAPTER 9:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157710839871/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-9

CHAPTER 10:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157841715481/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficition-chapter-10

ALSO YOU CAN READ THE WHOLE SERIES ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10025633

Lance and the Voltron Team go on a mission that goes horribly wrong. Lance is left behind to be interrogated by the mysterious Galra Prince Lotor. The team must rush to get him back at all costs. 


Chapter 1: Well, Great.

Lance awoke to the same face he had been seeing for a while now. That’s the thing about space, it’s hard to tell the time. But this Prince Lotor guy was making it even harder since he didn’t let Lance sleep more than an hour at a time, well he hoped it was an hour.

Team Voltron had been floating across the galaxy and found a distress beacon from a nearby planet. When they landed Allura asked the people what was wrong since they seemed pretty peachy for apparently being under distress. They lead the Voltron team to these large trees, like huge, way bigger than Earth’s trees. They entered a kind of makeshift elevator and when they reached the top they saw the problem.

A huge Galra ship hanging in the sky above them. No movement, nothing firing, just sitting there in the atmosphere above the planet. Obviously the people had panicked, sounded the distress beacon but the ship hadn’t done anything for a full week. The ship was making the people nervous so they left the beacon on hoping someone would come help them.

It was weird. Really weird. So of course they had to check it out. Team Voltron. Wooh. Anyway so eventually they went back to the castle. Allura and Coran did every scan they thought of and well they found no signs of life. Also weird. But they couldn’t destroy the ship, not from the castle. The shields were still up and they had to be disabled. So someone, namely Pidge had to get on the ship, disable the shield and get out so the castle could blast it out of the sky. Simple.

First of all Lance was the only one to think that maybe this wasn’t a great idea. Everyone else was convinced the scans worked, that no one was on the ship. Of course they went in still on alert but you know, things never go well for the paladin in blue. So Pidge was escorted by Lance and Keith while Hunk and Shiro waited with the castle just in case.

They entered the ship no problem. Not a big deal. Even got to the control panel without a hitch. But as soon as Pidge so much as touched the console things went to shit, real quick. When Pidge touched the console it set off some sort of alarm, out of nowhere Lance heard guards gathering outside the control room door. He and Keith readied their bayards then the comms went nuts. Shiro, Hunk and the castle had been surrounded by a Galra fleet. There was no escape. It had been a trap.

So Lance made a decision and a dangerous one. Without thinking he grabbed Keith and Pidge by the back of their uniforms and threw them over the edge of the control board, down a long drop where a vent lead to the outside of the ship. Pidge made a surprise squeak with Keith yelling Lance’s name. Lance turned and began to fire on the Galra soldiers. He knew what he had to do.

“I’m gonna blow the ship. Get as far away as you can, wormhole out if you have to!” He shouted over the comms.

There was muffled sounds of protest from Shiro and Hunk before the comms went dead completely. Great now they couldn’t communicate. The guards were piling through the door like mice escaping a hole. He had to hope that by now Pidge and Keith had made it far enough away, he couldn’t hold them any longer. So he turned his back, taking what cover he could from the tons of fire. He aimed at the crystal in front of him. He needed to break it. So he looked where he could fire. Where the crystal attached, he’s sure he can hit it. He aims, a shot from one of the guards hits him in the shoulder. Doesn’t matter. He breathes and fires. The shot hit sure and true and the crystal began to crack, sparks coming from it. Lance jumped into the cavern, going down the shaft to the vent. The crystal explodes.


Lance can’t hear anything, the explosion must have blown an ear drum. His back feels hot, spinning out of control into open air, jet pack not functioning. Great. Blue isn’t near enough to get to him. He had no idea how the castle was if everyone was okay. But the g-forces were causing his head to spin and he began to lose consciousness. His last thought was, I hope everyone gets out okay. Lance’s vision goes black as he continues to tumble towards the planet’s surface.


Everyone sees it, they hear it too. Keith and Pidge managed to get back to the castle in one piece right before the whole ship goes up. The explosion would have been spectacular if it wasn’t so frightening. Hunk and Shiro stopped fight just of a moment in sheer horror as the whole ship explodes. Lance was on that ship.

But the explosion works. The fleet takes damage, the explosion bigger than usual since they were fighting in the atmosphere rather than space. It takes out several ships. They have a chance to escape.

But everyone is frozen. Until they see it. A tiny figure tail spinning out of control in a blue and white suit.

“Lance!” Shiro shouts, trying to get to him before he hits the surface. But enemies were replacing the destroyed ones and he couldn’t get there in time.

Suddenly the ship that had hung back for the entire battle did something none of them expected. It sent out a beam of purple light and shined it on Lance’s out of control form. Lance’s body went limp, still and then slowly began to drag him toward the Galra ship.

Keith yelled, “They’re taking him!”

“We have to get him!” Pidge insisted. She hated the way he was limp, was he unconscious or worse?

They rushed to go get their lions. But Allura’s voice stopped them.

“YOU CANNOT!” She shouted.

Everyone paused even Shiro and Hunk who were still fighting outside the castle but they heard it over the comms. They had never heard Allura scream like that.

“We must wormhole out, we cannot win this fight.” She said this time barely a whisper.

There was a stunned silence before Keith of all people shouted.

“That’s LANCE out there! He just risked his life to give us a chance! We can’t abandon him!” Keith said, outraged.

Allura took in a breath.

“That is exactly why we need to go. Now. Lance bought us time. We can’t waste it.” She turned to them, tears in her eyes. Keith’s rage quickly melted.

“We will come back for him. We will find him and bring him home. However we need to be alive to do that. I’m certain we would not survive an assault on that ship. We must leave. Now.” Allura said tears streaking down her cheeks.

She wiped them the best she could and went to the comms telling Hunk and Shiro to come back. They were going to wormhole out. Reluctantly they came back, looking pale and worried. The ship made the wormhole, leaving the Galra and Lance behind.


Lance’s head felt heavy. His back felt worse, dry and stinging. He was being suspended against a wall. Arms, legs and torso bound by heavy thick clamps on the walls. Everything hurt. He slowly raised his head, moving it seemed to make it worse but he needed to see where he was. He knew he wasn’t in the castle but where exactly was he?

He blinked his eyes. Realizing quickly that one was having trouble seeing, which is a great thing to add to his ever growing list of problems. The room was dark with metal floors, walls and ceiling. Purple lights lined the walls in a linear pattern. He recognized that purple anywhere. He was on a Galra ship. Great.

He spent time looking over his injuries. He took a shot to the shoulder, he remembered that. But the rest must have been from the explosion or the free fall. His back was burnt, realizing the sensation. His left eye couldn’t see very well, vision was dark and tinted red. He could feel a cut over his eyebrow pulsing and swollen. His jaw felt fat and burned. The clamps were holding him to the wall a bit too tight and it seemed hard to draw a good breath. What a mess.

Soon the door flew open, showering the room in purple light. A tall man stepped in, long white hair and purple skin. Yellow almost glowing eyes looked at Lance with an interest that made his skin crawl. He was wearing armor, fancy armor. This guy was definitely in charge. Lance smirked, confidence couldn’t fail him now.

“Who are you? Zarkon’s replacement?” Lance asked, smug

The man took a moment and smiled.

“Yes, something like that.” He confirmed.

Lance was a little stunned, he honestly hadn’t expected him to answer.

“What, really?!” Lance asked, shocked.

The man smiled.

“My name is Prince Lotor, I am Zarkon’s son.” He took a step forward, examining Lance a little closer.

Once satisfied with being a creep he backed off.

”I must inform you that your fellow paladins have abandoned you.” Lotor said.

Lance breathed a small breath of relief. So they did get out. Good. That’s good, Lance thought although he couldn’t help the lump forming in his throat.

“Oh don’t worry, they’ll be back.” Lance said confidently.

Well he hoped anyway. Lotor paused and smile kept on his face.

“If that’s the case, how about we get started?”

Lance swallowed the lump was getting bigger. Two guards from the hallway came through the door.

“Bring it big ears.” Lance smirked.

Lotor’s face didn’t change, not even a twitch of anger. Now that Lance could see him up close, for a Galra he was pretty handsome. Nice hair. Although he seemed not all Galra. Lance wasn’t sure how he knew that but something about him read a little more of something else.

Lotor took a step closer, the guards following him closely as a flood of more people came into the room. Druids, that’s what their called. Cloaked with masks but the creepy witch lady wasn’t there which was a relief. But they shuffled in with metal floating boxes and began to take out what Lance had to guess was torture devices which wasn’t so great.

Lotor began to talk.

“You are the blue paladin of Voltron, riding the blue lion which also is a leg of Voltron. You were injured due to the explosion on the false ship over the planet of Neva. You escaped through a vent but the explosion was rather close to you. You were sent into the atmosphere were the gravity forced you unconscious. Our ship rescued you before you hit the planet. Once on board we treated some of your wounds so you did not die. But we left the majority that were not life threatening. Once you were brought aboard our ship the rest of the paladins used the explosion to escape us via wormhole.” Lotor smiled.

“This is the information we know. You see Zarkon was not one to share information with others. He unfortunately did not leave me any information about Voltron or its paladins. So I must gather the information myself.” He paused as a druid handed him something small and metallic.

The lump in Lance’s throat was growing bigger. He wanted to go home. He was scared. Terrified. But somewhere in the back of his mind which was flooded with terror rose something else. He remembered he protected the team. They were fine and were going to live for another day. Something in Lance clicked in place like a gear in his body was replaced with something stronger.

It didn’t matter. What happened to him didn’t matter. He must do everything he can to keep everyone safe. His emotions became steel and the breath that had been coming too quickly slowed. The fear was still there but that was natural the rest was made of unmoving steel.

Lance looked at Lotor his eyes narrowing and smirk plastered all over his face. He was not afraid.

“Why don’t you just get started then? Quit the chatter.” Lance snarled.

Lotor paused and blinked momentarily surprised. But then his smile grew across his face.

“Oh. I will have fun breaking you.”

So quick. Lance didn’t even register as Lotor took the small metal object and shoved it through Lance’s hand. Lance screamed.

Waving Through a Window

A/N Here’s this… thingie that I wrote for @analogically-prinxiety as a part of the fic exchange. Also huge thanks to @princeyandanxiety for putting up with my constant questions and helping me edit this.

Chosen Prompt: 1 - Soulmate AU

Pairing: Analogical (Anxiety/Logic), side Royality (Prince/Morality)

Genre: Soulmate AU, High School AU, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: many 8.6k (the k stands for kill me)

Warnings: panic attack, like a paragraph dedicated to this One Shove, heaps of swearing (courtesy of Anx) and uh… I think that’s it?

Summary:

Soulmates share an emotional bond where they can feel what the other is feeling. That has always been just an unimportant  fact that Virge has lived by. It was the same as someone saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘the sky is blue’. When Virgil’s old neighbour moves away and Logan’s family moves in, things start changing.

Keep reading

The List (Part 1)

I tried writing a fic for the first time so I’m sorry if it sucks. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors as English isn’t my first language. Feel free to correct me.

~

“Virge! Ro! Lo! Time for dinner!”

Patton counted exactly three seconds in his head before the sound of 2 doors simultaneously being opened was heard; followed by the familiar sound of running. He had barely set down the tray of meatloaf when Virgil already seated himself with Roman seating across him.

Yup, he sure did love dinner time.

“Thank goodness, I’m starving. ” Virgil was about to get himself a serving of meatloaf when someone swatted his hand away.

“Hey!”

“Virgil, we have to wait for Logan.”

Only then did Virgil and Roman notice the empty seat.

“Well, can someone call him already? The meatloaf’s growing cold!” Roman whined as he propped his chin on his elbow and eyed the dinner. Virgil had to stifle a snicker at the prince’s hungry stare at the food in front of them.

“Virgil, why don’t you call him? He must’ve been too busy again to notice the time.”

“Can we just leave him some meatloaf? He always misses dinner anyway.”

“And that is exactly why we’re going to wait for him tonight Roman.”

“Ugh, fiiiiine. Virgil make it quick.”

With a small sigh, Virgil walked back into the hallway, passing through each of their rooms, then finally stopping at a navy blue door. He knocked three times; it was their signature knock. The other two’s knocks were always excited and excessive.

“Logan.”

Nothing.

“Logic.”

Nothing.

“Hey nerd, it’s time for dinner.”

He waited a few more seconds this time. Still nothing.

“Dude come on. We’re all hungry. I’m sure whatever that is can wait.”

Again, silence. The anxious trait couldn’t help but let out an exhausted huff.

“Fine, I’m coming in.” He knew it was wrong to enter without permission but he was really starting worry as well.

He turned the doorknob, surprised that it wasn’t locked, then pushed the door open.

The first thing he noticed was that the logical side was nowhere to be found. He felt his panic rise a bit at the absence of said trait. The next thing he noticed was how organized and tidy the room was. Before he knew it, he had fully entered the room and was inspecting every table, chart, and schedule posted on Logan’s wall. He still can’t grasp how he managed to keep it so orderly with all these papers stuck in the room.

In one section was Thomas’ schedule. Virgil can’t say he wasn’t impressed when he saw that the spaces alotted for all three weeks from now were already filled in. He had even started filling in the fourth week.

Just beside that was a list of important dates that Thomas should remember; and it was filled with dates until the next two years.

He continued looking through a chart of what Thomas should eat, a list of video suggestions (he should really tell Roman about some of those), a to do list and a bunch of other papers.

He was about to leave and try to find Logan in other rooms when he noticed one more list near the door. Virgil scanned it and couldn’t help but wonder what the heck it was for. He started reading through each item on the list.

1. Talkative

Solution: Lessen amount of words and only speak when necessary. Failure to execute solution may lead to an increase of being associated to item #2.


2. Boring

Solution: Avoid giving facts that are not of others’ interests and excessive blabbering about topics the others might deem ‘boring". Try looking for trivias that they will find entertaining. Preferably about bands, puppies, and theater.


Virgil’s eyes widened when he realized it was referring to them. He also felt a part of him crack as he let the implications of this list sink in. He kept reading.


3. Killjoy

Solution: From time to time join in the others’ activities and try not to ruin it for them. If it seems like they are not enjoying due to your presence, make an excuse and leave. This way they can continue their fun.


‘Is this why he doesn’t show up at movie nights?’ Virgil’s chest started to ache as he read the rest of the paper.


4. Least favorite

Solution: Use vocab words more often (and appropriately) to gain attention of the viewers. This is not a guaranteed solution to create a respectable image but it may help to at least change the audience’s view on you. This may also catch the others’ attention which can lead to them listening to any future input. With luck, they might even consider it.


Virgil eyes started to leak when he read that one. He knew he was the who said it. He didn’t know Logan took it heavily.


5. Robot/Emotionless

Solution: Sadly, although you have feelings, emotions must remain supressed as to not affect any decisions or own logical mindset in any way. Set a reminder to explain this to the others someday.


Virgil’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore at this point but it was the last item that really left a hole in his chest.


6. Useless/Insignificant

Solution: It has long been established that the others can take over your duty and do it just as efficiently as you do. Thomas will be able to function normally without you. Given this, still make an effort to contribute in any way. Work harder to compensate for lack of importance. It is the least you can do.


He didn’t know that Logan felt this way. He felt so… horrible. His friend was hurting and no one saw it. The worst thing about it was how Logan treated it like those were facts; flaws that he must change. He took all of those as if it was his own fault.

He had to let the others know about this.

He wiped his eyes dry as much as he could and headed for the door but stopped in his tracks when he was blocked by a certain logical side.

“Virgil? Is something the matter?”

Neighbour | Jimin, You

Part One | Part Two | Part Three 


Father!Jimin AU with you as his daughter’s teacher. And in the beginning you didn’t know how important they would become to you

If I know what love is, it is because of you.

You sighed as you folded the newspaper shut. The ‘wanted jobs’ section was just as full as it was unachievable. At this point, a simple part time job would suffice. But you couldn’t find anything attainable. Despite being a qualified teacher, you couldn’t seem to find any places hiring, making your degree completely useless.

Your phone alarm rang and your eyes flickered over it, seeing that it was time for you to get to your part time job. Putting the paper on the table and placing your coffee mug in the sink, you tied your hair up in a ponytail and left for the café down the street.

“Morning Y/N!” your friend exclaimed when you entered.

Keep reading

Yotsuba Koiwai - Where Did She Come From? (Updated)

Hey guys I’ve updated this so check up on the revised version at the bottom half of this post!

There’s theories that she’s from North Korea because she’s afraid of targets and whenever she hears something loud she goes ‘we’re under attack’ and everytime she sees a huge building she goes the government built it.


Koiwai found her in another country which apparently is “to the left” (Korea is to the left of Japan on most maps). Her real parents raised her to be suspicious in fear of being made political prisoners. This explains why she always asks if someone is an enemy or a friend when first meeting them.

Keep reading

Wedding in Hawaii || Part 2

hi. well i must say that part 1 went down pretty well, you all seemed to love it which makes me extremely happy! currently i’m working on part 3 and considering that harry styles just rocked up to the airport in a pair of glasses and a shirt that says “women are smarter” i am going to have to write about that too so get seated loves! i hope you’s will enjoy part 2, it’s really really fluffy and you will cry if you are sensitive. even if you aren’t you will shed a tear or two bc harry’s amazing. ok i shall stop rambling. hope you’s enjoy, don’t forget to like and follow and i think there’s an option to turn on my post notifications as well so if you don’t wanna miss out on cute harry stuff i suggest you turn it on 😘 lotta love, xoxo -b

Part 1 •  Part 3

It was around 12 pm when Harry and I finished our time in the gym that Harry desperately wanted to visit. He said it tends to help with his hangover and I knew about that because he’s done it before, I just didn’t think it helps. For me at least.

Once we got back from our work out session we both showered then got into something comfy to go and hang out in with the others.

Harry was wearing blue shorts with a grey shirt that had an eagle on the front, white sunglasses and a yellow snapback.

I think it was safe to say that he looked stunning. Gorgeous. Absolutely breath-taking. Beautiful.

You get the gist.

While he was literally shining I was looking like trash next to him but I didn’t mind because his beauty was enough for me too.

“I lost count on how many times I’ve caught you staring at me just since we got back from the gym,” Harry told me as he laughed.

We were sitting on the grass because we liked to make a show of ourselves in front of other people. It was chill as we were both having a glass of champagne, not minding one bit that we just got over our hangovers.

That’s how you roll when you’re a wedding guest, right?

“Can you blame me?” I asked him as I brought my glass up to my mouth and took a sip of my cold and bubbly drink. It felt good as it slid down my throat into my stomach, the coolness of it giving me a refreshing feeling for a little while. “You’re quite possibly the prettiest human being here.”

“You compliment me too much. It should be the other way round,” he shook his head which I saw from the corner of my eye. “Sometimes I feel like our roles are reversed.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. Wow, thanks for helping me. “I just do. But I don’t mind. It feels good to have someone like you beside me. Giving me compliments when I feel down and stuff, always making sure I’m grounded. I’m glad to have you.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, stop,” I laughed. As the words left his lips I just suck all of them in which totally messed with my emotions. He just had his own way of making me feel all these things and I will never be able to explain just what he does to me. “You deserve it all, honestly.”

“How much do you wanna bet that you’ll be the one to get down on one knee?”

“I’ll be getting down on two tonight,” I blurted out which caused him to just look at me with a smirk on his lovely features.

“Y’know what I meant you cheeky girl,” he squeezed my thigh, his hand eventually going more and more up. “I swear you got more confident ever since we got together.”

“Ever Since New York.”

“Huh?”

“Your song, silly boy.”

“Still don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You said I got more confident ever since we got together. But those are not the lyrics to your song.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh my godness, baby, really?”

“I’m a proud girlfriend. Did you know that by the way? I’m proud of you. Like, super-duper proud.”

“Thank you,” he smiled and leaned closer, his lips touching mine in a sweet, champagne flavoured kiss.

A small moan escaped from me as he massaged his soft and tender lips against mine, his tongue slightly tracing over my upper lip causing me to open my mouth. Soon enough our tongues were slapping together and tasting each other, the familiar taste of the champagne rolling off of his sweet lips and tongue made my head spin and body shake. 

Our kiss started off totally innocent then ended up quite heated. But I loved it. Every time Harry and I kissed I just fell in love with him more and more.

The heated moment was interrupted when a ball was thrown our way, our lips parting ways quickly with a smacking noise. My cheeks were turning slightly pink as I licked my lips and turned my head where Harry was looking.

“Harry, play with me!” the little girl asked him, well, more like demanded then soon enough she ran away.

She was basically in love with Harry. Her name was Lily one of the men’s daughters, only 5 years old if I remember correctly. She was the cutest little girl I have seen in a long time; her neediness for Harry’s attention reminded me a bit of myself.

I looked back to Harry who was laughing as he was already staring at me with his eyes, licking his lips which caught my attention straight away.

His lips were pink, shiny and kissable. Whenever he would talk I’d sometimes just zone out and admire his mouth, the way he forms each word is just absolutely mesmerising to me.

Well, everything he does is mesmerising to me.

“Guess I better go and play,” he laughed before pecking my lips softly. I put my hand on the side of his neck, biting into my lower lip as I scanned over his face not missing one bit before seeing his little side smirk appear alongside his dimples. “You’re literally obsessed with me, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“I just love you. I’m in love with you. Badly,” I told him what he probably already knew. Wow I loved him so much I would jump off a cliff for him if it meant he’ll be happy for the rest of his life and nothing bad will happen to him.

“I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to my forehead then got up to play with Lily.

And if I wasn’t an emotional mess before than I sure as hell turned into one the moment they started to play.

Harry had his phone in one hand while his champagne glass was in the other one and Lily was just chasing after him as he jogged in front of her. Their laughter added to the vibe of the people who were already talking and it made the atmosphere livelier and more welcoming to those who only just got to where we were.

Moments later Harry gave me his phone as he continued to play with the little girl. When he bopped her nose and she laughed then he joined in as well my whole heart melted like a big block of butter in the hot weather and I couldn’t stop the semi-loud “aw” rushing out of my mouth.

That was honestly the cutest fucking thing ever.

Lily was so small and Harry was so tall and gorgeous and the way he just messed around with the little girl was so adorable and all I wanted to do was get pregnant and give him a baby. I know I sound crazy but honestly.

He was so damn adorable I wanted to cry in happiness. He was just the man of my dreams. No, wait, scratch that.

Harry was better than any man in any of my dreams ever. Harry was something else.

He was better than anyone I have ever met, he raised my expectations and standards to an unhealthily high bar and I almost felt stuck up for it.

I loved him so much it was quite pathetic and indescribable; he made me so happy I sometimes wondered what my life was like before I got to know him.

“What are you thinking, pretty girl?” his voice was so close to me I almost jumped out of my skin. I wasn’t expecting him to be next to me but I guess my thoughts totally drowned me.

“Nothing much,” I answered finally as I looked up to him.

“Alright, if you say so,” he sat back down next to me, pushing his sunglasses up so that they were resting on his head on top of his snapback. “We have a dinner to attend tonight. Would you do me the honours of being my date for it?”

“I would absolutely love that,” I told him smiling which he returned. “You get tanned so easily I’ll have to get my game on.”

“You’re so fucking competitive,” he shook his head laughing.

“I am. Do you have a problem with that?” I asked back sassily.

“No just know that I will not let you win. I will be tanner than you are by the time we are going home.”

“Is that what you think?” I raised one of my eyebrows, challenging him. “Fifty quid when we get home?” I put my hand out, knowing full well he’s gonna have to pay.

We’ve done this before when we were in LA and I was twenty quid richer when we got back home. I had to raise the bar by thirty to make some profit.

“Alrighty, miss,” he took my hand and shook it. “Fifty quid right as we land at Heathrow.”

I winked at him, lifting up my new glass of champagne and taking a sip. I can’t wait to spend that fifty quid on shit that I don’t even need.

Constant | Part I

Vernon x Reader

2484 words

Synopsis: When Vernon puts up an ad online for finding a roommate for university, the last person he expects to answer it is you. When you reply, Vernon is conflicted about how to share a house with you when he can barely think straight around you.

A/N: I’m finally back with a series! Inspired by Seventeen’s comeback and the fact that I think being Vernon’s roommate would be super chill.

Keep reading

Frankly, Tim was having a terrible day. He’d broken his wrist a week ago, which meant no patrol, and he’d finished all the work he could do from home. He was going stir-crazy— wandering aimlessly around his apartment, checking and rechecking his equipment. In the end he’d driven to the manor, hoping for something to do, but the house had been empty all night. He’d clicked through Netflix episodes until the early hours of the morning, fallen asleep on the couch, and woken up exhausted.

At least Dick wasn’t doing any better. He called to check in while Tim was headed downstairs, complaining about a streak of murders in his neighborhood that he hadn’t been able to solve. Tim put him on speaker when he hit the kitchen, set his phone on the counter, and nodded to Damian, who was already at the table. Damian didn’t look up from his newspaper.

“Drake. You look half-dead.”

“You’ve looked worse.” Tim pulled the pancake mix from the shelf and turned around in time to see Damian slowly lower his paper, clearly scandalized. Tim decided he was too tired to care.

“We need to work on your sense of self preservation,” sighed Dick. “Hey, Damian. Try not to stab anyone.”

“No promises.” Damian glared pointedly in Tim’s direction and went back to his paper.

“Anyway, Tim, listen— I have to go. I’ve been awake for forty hours, and this isn’t getting any easier.”

“Have you considered taking a break?”

“This was my break.” Dick stifled a yawn. “I’ll be fine.”

Tim figured he probably would be, until he saw Damian’s eyes narrow. Uh oh. As Dick clicked off the line, Damian folded up his newspaper and made for the door. Tim followed him into the hallway, grinning. He was pretty sure he knew what was about to happen.

“So what are you going to do to him?”

“Go away, Drake.”

“Slip him sleep meds? Break into his apartment and badger him into submission?”

“Leave.”

“You’re not going to physically fight him, are you?”

“No.” Damian swept inside his bedroom, slamming the door in Tim’s face. “Mind your own business.”

“Damian, c’mon, I just want to know if I have enough time to make popcorn.” No answer. Tim leaned against the doorframe, listening to Damian clatter around inside. “If this is about what I said in the kitchen, I’m sorry about the dead joke.”

Damian’s voice came out muffled behind the wood. “No you’re not.”

Okay, fine. He wasn’t. “Seriously, tell me what you’re planning to do.”

“I’m going to ask him politely to go to sleep.”

“That’s it?” Tim pulled away from the wall, disappointed— and maybe a little irritated. He knew from personal experience that if he went that long without sleeping, Damian started pulling out sedatives. As tired as he was of Damian’s over the top interventions, Tim had always assumed they were over the top because that’s how Damian did things. From the right angle, he was almost being nice. But if he wasn’t going to do it to Dick…

“How come you don’t—” Tim cut himself off as Damian’s door swung open. 

“Because Grayson values my opinion and me as a person, so if I ask him to take care of himself, he will. Because Grayson listens to to me.” Damian swung his laptop bag over his shoulder, shot Tim a look that said (very clearly) unlike some people, and marched back up the hall. 

“That’s not…” Tim stood for a few seconds, arms crossed, then hurried after Damian. “Okay, that’s not fair. I listen to you. Or at least I would if you ever asked me for anything.”

“I do,” said Damian. “You don’t.”

“Since when?” Tim couldn’t remember ignoring any requests— Damian didn’t talk to him that often, and most of what he did say was insulting. Tim could remember a few comments about his life habits, sure, but no questions. Damian never asked.

Alright, maybe that was Damian’s version of asking. 

“Fine.” Tim caught up with Damian at the front door, while he was fishing for his keys. “I’ll pay more attention next time.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m thrilled. Can you drive me to Grayson’s apartment?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Finally, something to do. He’d been lying around for days, and he was starting to feel like dead weight. Useless. Anyway, Tim wanted to see how this played out— Dick was stubborn, and Tim wasn’t sure that he would cooperate as easily as Damian predicted. He was as much of a workaholic as any of them.

“I’ll get my keys.” 

Keep reading

hi um i saw this beautiful post reblogged by @sqiderling and i couldn’t resist so have a drabble of the ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’

That goddamn alarm. 

For the 5th time in 3 days, the fire siren had blared loudly through out the building at some ungodly hour and forced all of the residents in your apartment block out onto the street. The first time, you had been home alone so: you panicked. Rushing around and grabbing whatever you thought to be valuable enough to save- (you found out after that you’d left your laptop and grabbed you toothbrush) you were the last out of the building. And in tiny avenger pajama shorts, that you had never hated more in that moment. 

You spent that early early morning, mourning the loss of your laptop & dozens of other important things inside your apartment. All whilst freezing your ass off in the cold night air. Sure, that might’ve not been so bad; if it was a one time thing. 

Except, when the alarm began blazing at 4am, again, you were fucking tired of it. Making sure to pull on some sweatpants and a large sweater this time, you gather the essentials in your apartment on the off chance it actually was a fire and calmly (though seething inside) wandered out to the front of the apartment block. Joining your neighbors, you peered up at the building, almost wishing for the sight of flames because then you’d at least have a reason to be out and about at 4am. Though, at least you were prepared this time. 

However, the next resident who stumbled out of the building, clearly wasn’t. 

Donned in only some ravishing Star Wars boxers, the undoubtedly hot teenage boy looked beyond uncomfortable as he awkwardly crossed his arms across his chest in attempt to cover up, searching through the crowd for someone. Shuffling through the people with muttered apologies, you watched with an amused smile playing on your lips as he obviously tried to locate someone in the crowd, all while in his boxers. But you couldn’t help but feel bad for him- it was clear he was caught very off guard and you knew it was a chilly night.

As he came closer, you could see him shivering in the biting cold and before you knew it you had opened your mouth. “Hey, Han Solo!– you want a sweater?” 

Jumping in surprise, the boy turned (this nerd turned at the name Han Solo) scanning the crowd for a moment before he locked eyes with you. Pointing to himself, he questioned wordlessly with an adorable confused frown and you smiled, nodding and waving him over. 

“Y-Yeah, actually, um, if you have– t-that’d be great.” 

Pulling off your own sweater, you missed the boy’s obvious blush at the notion but not his grateful smile as he took it & quickly pulled it on. He tried not to sigh at how warm it was or how nice it smelt. Instead, he just nodded at you, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’, awkwardly fidgeting with the end of your jumper.

Peter desperately wanted to strike up a conversation with you but he couldn’t think of a single interesting thing to say other than “hey, hope our apartment building doesn’t burn up!” and he was sure that wouldn’t be all too popular. It was bad enough that he was caught out in boxers (this was definitely in competition of the most mortifying moment of his life) but of course, this incredibly attractive person had to be there too. 

Though at the moment, you looked positively bitter & as if there was a thousand things you’d rather be doing (fair enough, it was 4am, so sleeping was at the top of that list.) 

“You haven’t been here for the past couple nights?” 

Peter paled momentarily, his mind whirling for a moment as he thought you knew his spidery secret before remembering you were a stranger. 

W-Wha– why’d you say that?” 

“I mean, this is the 5th time the alarm’s gone off. In the last 3 days.” 

You paused as Peter nodded in understanding, scrunching up the long sleeves of your sweater, giving himself sweater paws. You were silently aweing on the inside and also wondering holy when did we have such cute residents and why was i not informed???

“Though, I must say, this is the first time I’ve seen a cute boy in his wonderful Star Wars boxers on the streets at 4am.” 

Blushing furiously, Peter stammered as he tried to defend himself and his lack of clothing but you only found it highly amusing watching his pink cheeks glow. “I-! I-I was getting changed! And I thought there was a fire!” 

“Mmhm. So, you got a name or do I have to keep calling you Han Solo?” You asked, subconsciously taking a small step towards him, a light grin on your face. There was something about this short but oddly cute teenager that made you keep talking.  

“Park– P-Peter Parker. But, you’re welcome to continue calling me Han Solo if you want.” 

You grinned, holding in your laugh at his outstretched hand but took it in yours nonetheless.“The name’s y/n, Mr Solo.Though next time we meet, I hope you’re wearing slightly more clothing.” 

Not A Kid Anymore. (Mingyu Smut)

heeeyy guys, so i know, if you’ve seen my post then you’ll know that this is a re-post. so all my works on my original account will be reposted here. (even though i only got 2 posts lol) so yeah, this is not plagiarized guys, okay? :) okay. ily x i know there are a lot of you who are silent readers mehe 


It’s been 3 years since you’ve last seen the boys. You had to go to the states because of work, originally, you had been a trainee at PLEDIS with the boys, also wanting to debut in the future but you had obviously had found better opportunities as a stylist. You and the boys were quite well known back in the days because of your amazing friendship. You and the boys have been nothing but supportive towards each other, but considering you were older (24) they still had that respect towards you. You’ve been with them long enough to be able to talk informally, but of course, they are just really nice kids, you could say you’ve been with them through thick and thin, but never really lost contact.That was until a year and a half ago, when they finally (after years of training) had their own program, 17 Project. That was when their schedule was too busy, and eventually you lost contact with them. But you didn’t mind at all, you were still able to them on TV.

Keep reading

(Credence Barebone x Reader) A Safe Place [Pt.4] [SMUT]

Title : A Safe Place [Pt.4]

Request : No

Smut/Warnings : Yes/blowjobs, eating out, fucking, slightly rough, mentions of abuse

Word Count : 4,717 (HOLY SHIT IKR)

A/N : i present to you… CREDENCE BAREBONE SMUT!! God this fic took me forever. I kinda think he’s kinda OOC, sorry for that. There still will be the last part for this series. One or two, not sure. Anyway, enjoy this y’all sinners lmao. I might write some more Barebone smut because let’s face it HE DESERVED BETTER. Oh btw requests are open!

Tagging @moonlight53 @weasleywickedwarlock @ichooseyouprocrastination

First : http://frostyiceberg.tumblr.com/post/154409724774/credence-x-reader-a-safe-place-pt1

Previous : http://frostyiceberg.tumblr.com/post/154634234094/credence-barebone-x-reader-a-safe-place-pt3

———————–

The next day after the incident starts off as usual, but without Tina coming with the both of you. She’s still in bed, unlike her usual, workaholic self. “She’ll find something to do, let’s not worry about it too much,” Queenie says to you. Even though she says so, you can feel the worry in her tone.

You want to wake Tina, to say that it will be alright, but you’re not so sure yourself. What will she do in the future? Will she work with the No-Majs? Or will she remain like this? The thoughts about it shudders you. As you take the last bite of your toast, you raise the wand and the plates and silverware magically march to the sink to be washed.

Seeing everything is under control, you and Queenie bid your goodbye to Tina and head to work. You silently hope she will find a good way to cope with this soon.

***

You can’t concentrate on your work, not because you keep thinking about Tina, but because of something – someone – else. You keep thinking where did he go and if he is okay. You didn’t see him today, not in the corner of the streets you passed, nor in front of a public building. Usually he would be there, giving pamphlets while waiting for you.

As read the wand permit stacking on your desk, you notice Abernathy is being too kind to Queenie than usual. Sure, you know he’s head over heels with her, but that doesn’t mean he has the right to be that awfully close with your sister.

By close, he’s currently sitting on her desk, trying to take her to dinner which she ignores as she sends you a knowing look. You chuckle, and think to yourself so she can hear it.

‘Want me to do some tricks?’ you think.

She looks up, and raises both of her eyebrows in agreement. Drawing your wand from your purse, you sneakily swing it towards him, as you mutter a spell under your breath. Soon enough, Abernathy sneezes, and he does it in front of Queenie, without closing his mouth. You hold in your laugh and do it some more.

Abernathy keeps sneezing, and Queenie is absolutely disgusted. She slaps Abernathy and he excuses himself in mid sneezes. After he left the room, Queenie looks at you disapprovingly, yet happily. She mouths a thank you as she cleans herself. And she adds, ‘it’s disgusting’.

‘You’re very welcome. Even though it is disgusting, at least he will not have the balls to talk to you for some times,’ you think. Queenie replies to you with a smile across the room.

***

You finish work early, since there’s not much to do in the beginning, and you managed to get several hours head start of going home. Queenie had asked you to buy groceries, and you’re more than happy to help her with it. Who knows, you might see Credence on your way home.

As you bid goodbye to the doorman, you walk to the general store near the park on your way home. Seeing the park reminds you of Credence. No, everything, reminds you of Credence. You can’t help but worry about his whole being. And you still remember the kiss you shared with him. You crave more of him.

Entering the store, you are greeted with the sweet smell of flower; the storekeeper is restocking flowers near the cashier. You’ve known the storekeeper since the three of you moved here in New York, with him and his wife being a wizard too. It’s always packed with No-Majs though.

“Lighting up the mood with some flowers, Mr. Jones?” you greet the shopkeeper. He’s in his mid fifties, both of his sons is outside the city, travelling together.

“Ah, [Name]! I suppose I am, since it has been either snowing or raining here,” he replies.

“Where’s Mrs. Jones?” you ask him as you scan the shelves full of goods. You take a bag flour, a box of teabags, and some sugar. You continue to fulfill the list in your hands as you talk to Mr. Jones.

“Oh, she’s in the back, baking some pies. Do you want some [Name]?” he offers.

“Oh I shouldn’t, you’ve been very kind to us Mr. Jones,” you say as you walk up to the cashier.

“Now don’t be like that. The three of you are already like my own daughters. Abigail! Can I get some of those pies over here?!” he yells to the back.

As he packs your groceries to the paper bag, Mrs. Jones walks to the front with a fresh baked pie in hand. She’s content in seeing you, and immediately packs the pie too.

“Tell me my dear, are you a fan of blueberries?” Mrs. Jones asks you. You nod, and a smile breaks on her face. “Then you’ll love this blueberry pie I made!” she exclaims.

“Oh I love everything you make, Mrs. Jones,” you say to her.

After paying the lovely couple and say your goodbyes, you walk home with hands full of groceries, not to mention the pie and a bouquet of flower they also gave you. You’re having difficulties walking, for the groceries in your arms blocking your view.

Suddenly, you bump into someone, which sends you falling, and your groceries spilling everywhere. Thank heavens you still manage to keep the pie in your hands.

“Ouch…”

“[Name]…? I-I’m so sorry…”

Your heart races as you hear the voice you missed for so long. You look up, and see Credence kneeling in front of you, his hands held out towards you to help you stand to your feet. His clothes are slightly wet, hair disheveled, and face a bit dirty.

“Oh my God, Credence! Where have you been?! You look awful!” you exclaim as you take his hand, brushing your coat.

“I… I don’t know…” he answers. He seems lost, and you dare to guess he hasn’t eaten any food since morning. Probably since yesterday.

“Okay, you’re coming with me then!” you decide. You pick up the fallen groceries, and put it back into the paper bag. Then, when you’re settled, you start to walk again, only to be stopped by Credence who puts his hand on your arm.

“…Let me, um, help you,” he says. He hesitantly takes the paper bag in your arms, and the bouquet of flower too. You link your arm with his, and lead him to your apartment.

“Thank you Credence, you’re such a gentlemen,” you say.

***

When you reach the front door, you ask Credence to be as quiet as possible, afraid of Mrs. Esposito kicking the three of you out of the building. Lucky enough, once you enter the building, you hear a fairly loud snore coming from the first room. She’s having her usual afternoon nap.

Credence surveys the building, his eyes going everywhere as he silently follows you upstairs. With every step you take, you grow even more nervous. You’re bringing a man into you and your sisters’ apartment, and it’s not an ordinary man, it’s Credence. The man who you shared your first kiss with.

You unlock the door into your apartment and let Credence in first. The room is the same as you left it this morning, with an exception of there are Tina’s clothes drying near the fireplace, the thread of string which holds the garment floating magically. There are several dishes being washed, indicating someone – Tina – was here not long ago. She must have left.

“Well… Welcome to my humble abode. Let’s get you warm, shall we?” you say, putting the pie on the dining table.

Credence, amazed by the magic in the room, stares in awe. The warm lighting in the room gives him a tingling feeling in his chest. You take the groceries in his hand, your hand brushing against his. You don’t seem to notice though. You then proceed to place each one of them in their own places.

“Can you take off you jacket please? Or maybe your vest and too… I’ll wash and dry them, if you want,” you say.

He seems hesitant and scared at first, but he obliges. He takes off his jacket and vest, handing them to you. You take them both and take out your wand. With a swing of your wand, you send the clothes floating to wash themselves. Credence looks at you in amazement, still taking in the fact that you’re a witch.

You step into your room to change into something more comfortable, a simple dress hanging loosely down your body. Thin and loose, yet compliments your body. You walk out of your room and find him still standing near the door.

“Now… Would you like some tea? Or cocoa maybe?” you ask him. He nods, and you take his arm and guide him to the front of the fireplace. You cast aside Tina’s hanging clothes and let Credence sit by the fire. You guide his freezing hands to near the fire, and he cringes in the process.

“Credence…” you speak. He doesn’t answer and shows his hands to you, which is painted with newly crimson scars. You heal him again with your magic, and kiss his knuckles, to calm him down.

Then, you guide his hands again, warming him up. “Just relax, okay?”

As you’re about to stand to make him the promised warm drink, he stops you by holding onto your dress. He looks like he’s about to cry, and you immediately crouch down to his level.

“Love… Are you okay? Did she hurt you anywhere?’

Tears stream down his cheeks, and he starts sobbing. His sobbing is so heartbreaking, that you can’t help yourself but hug him. He cries to your dress, making it wet, but you can care less.

“I’m here Credence. I love you, I love you. I’m here, my love, I am here,” you calm him down. He grasps onto your dress tightly, not wanting you to leave, even though you know you’re not going anywhere.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, rubbing circles on his back as you gaze into his teary eye. He blinks, and even more tears stream down, but he nods. You kiss his forehead, as you scoots a little to lean onto the couch.

You caress his hair lovingly, constantly placing careful kisses on his face. His breathing slowly calms down, and you conjure a handkerchief to wipe his tears and snot. Once he’s fully calm, yet still puffy eyed, you lead him to sit onto the couch and make him the cocoa.

You hand the mug to him, and he holds it in his shaky hands.

“What… What’s wrong, Credence?” you hesitantly ask.

“I… I want to show you something…” he begins. “But… Please don’t leave me… And I know you will be afraid… But please…” he says desperately.

“I won’t leave you. And I will try not to be scared.” you say with certainty in your voice.

He looks around, looking for a secluded place to do it, and you notice his nervousness. You stand and guide him to your bedroom, locking it behind you. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously looking at him.

He stands and takes a step back, and a black smoke starts to emanate from him. You know it’s not some ordinary smoke, for it doesn’t have any smell, and there are red sparks of fire in it. Your heart races from fear, but you try not to look scared. You know that, whatever this thing is, is Credence.

The smoke keeps getting bigger as the vessel, his human body, disappears into the darkness of the smoke. The smoke may look terrifying, but it’s calm nonetheless. A mix of black dust and sparks of fire, swirling into a vortex. Slightly, you can hear a sobbing inside it. Credence’s broken sobs and cries for help.

Shakily, you stand to your feet, and walk towards the smoke. Your fear subsides, to be replaced by pity and sympathy. Hands reached out towards the core, the smoke stops moving, and envelopes you in it. You sense the smoke around your body, its dust swirling, touching, and floating around, all in a slow motion.

Your hand touches something solid, and the smoke slowly form the face the man you love. His eyes are shining white, but the light is dulled with his tears. It displays all of his fear, sorrow, and depression, all of them in his eyes. He is afraid. Afraid of rejection from you, someone who he trusts fully for the first time. He is showing you all of him.

You raise your other hand and cup his face in your hands, bringing his forehead to yours. The smoke disappears, and solidifies back to his body. “I’m here Credence. I’m here,” you tell him over and over, as if a it’s a spell, chanting it to calm him down.

“A-Aren’t you afraid…? O-Of me…?”

“I am, at first,” you start, as your hands travel to his own, gripping it with reassurance. “But I know it’s you, so I am not now,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“B-But I don’t even know what I am… And I-I destroy things, I almost kill people…”

“I know what you are,” you say, looking at him in the eyes. “You are Credence. I know that you know who you are, and you I know you don’t do all of them on purpose.”

You wrap your arms around him, hugging the slouched body. He hugs back, lean his head to your shoulder, cries onto it. “Ssshhh… It’s okay, I accept you for who you are. I love you. All of you.”

As the smoke completely disappears, back to his body, you ask him to sit on your bed while you make the long forgotten promised mug of hot drink in the kitchen. He shakes his head, and hold onto your arms.

“I- I still want you to see every part of me, for wh-who I am,” he says. Vulnerability thick in his voice, with trembling hands, he unbuttons his shirt, one by one, revealing his bare, scarred chest. You gasp when you see his skin underneath, his scars showing a tragic beauty in it.

“Mother… When s-she’s not satisfied with my palms… She also does it here…” he claims, guiding your hand to his chest. As your soft skin comes in contact with his scars, you can feel his pain and suffering. Everything that monster he calls mother has done to him… Your hand carefully caress the scars, from his chest, to his shoulder, then to his back as you pull his shirt off and slowly get closer and closer to him.

“Does it… Still hurt…?” you ask, running your fingertips to his face. He tilts his face towards you and say, “No, but I still remember every single one… Like it was yesterday…” he says.

“Do you… Do you want me to heal you…?” you hesitantly ask.

“I… To be honest… Yes, but… I want you to see me, or… Maybe love me, like…” he pauses and motions to his body, “…this. This broken and ugly self…”

“Credence… Stop… Stop saying you’re ugly, because you’re not. You are beautiful. Especially your kind hearted soul and I don’t want anyone else but you,”

Hearing you say that, the uncertainty in his eyes and voice slowly fades away, and he takes your lips in his. The kiss wasn’t like the first one you shared, this time, he is more certain of what he wants, about how he feels, and about you.

You gave him the assurance he needs. And he needs nothing else. Just you.

As he kisses you, you swiftly slip your tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. His face is beet red, and his body is stiff as a statue. Still kissing, you guide him to lay down your bed. You break the kiss, a trail of saliva between yours and his mouth.

Breathless, he lays underneath you as you straddle his hips. You lean down and kiss him again, this time, his hands ___ going to the side of your face and neck. As your left hand holding your body from falling to his, your right one goes between your heated bodies, to his abdomen, and lowers to his crotch. He gasps sharply when your hand palms him through his trousers, the garment getting tighter by the second.

“I-I-“he stutters, lost for words.

“Can I do it Credence…?” you ask. “Can I give it to you? Will you let me?”

Panting, he nods and you palm him harder, giving pressure to the hardening manhood. He grits his teeth, and his hands go from holding your face to grasping the sheets. You kiss his face to make him relax, taking your right hand from his crotch. He sighs and whines in the lost of contact, and you seductively smile at him.

“Be patient, Credence. I want you to see me for who I am too,”

You take out your wand, and you swing it to your dress. You place your wand on your bedside, and as you do so, your dress takes itself off your body. It goes floating to the inside of your closet, and hung neatly.

You’re left with your underwear – a bra, a loose corset, and a pair of panties.

His hands twitch at his sides, and you chuckle.

“You can undress me, if you want,” you say.

“W-Well… I- Uh, do you want me to…?”

“I do, Credence.”

You sit on his lap, feeling his hard manhood underneath your folds. You bite your lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Credence sits up, and his hands go behind your back.

You lean your head against his shoulder as he attempts on unclasping your bra. After a few attempts, he looks flustered; embarrassed that he cannot do such a simple task.

“Here, here, let me help you,” you say as your hands go to your back, and unclasp it in one swift motion. “It’s okay Credence,” you say, pecking his lips. “I usually can’t do it too.”

You slide off the straps from your shoulder, and Credence holds his breath when he sees you do it. He darts his face to the side, obviously embarrassed at the sight, yet curious of you.

“Don’t be shy Credence,” you say. You take his hand and bring it to your breasts, and when you do so, you feel his cock twitching inside of his trousers. His breath hitches on his throat, and he looks at you with a bright, red face.

“It’s okay, I will not be angry. You can touch the other if you want to.”

He realizes the fact that if his mother knows, the amount of punishment he will receive might kill him. Lust is one of forbidden things in the house of Barebone. But with you, someone he loves and trusts, he can’t help it.

Credence shakily raise his hands to the other breast, and you sigh when his cold hands comes in contact with your breast. Your nipple gets hard, and he fiddles it between his fingers, curiosity plastered on his face. You whimper when he does so, and Credence, satisfied with the sound you made, does it harder to the other one.

“A-Ah! Credence! I- Ah!”

He remains silent and experimentally licks your nipples, and begins sucking it with his mouth. You gasp again at his newfound confidence, and tangle your fingers in his hair. He keeps sucking, licking, and biting, while playing with your other one, playing it like a toy.

You pull his head back, tearing his mouth from your nipple, and kiss the base of his neck. You leave butterfly kisses from the base of his neck, up to his earlobe. You also constantly licks his neck, and he moans when you do so.

He lifts you briefly, and puts you down beneath him, as his hand goes to the back of your waist, pulling the string of the corset. He takes it off carefully, releasing you from the tightness of the corset. Credence then looks at you, unsure what to do.

“T-Take my panties off,” you say breathily.

He obeys, and he pulls down your panties slowly, with both of his hands. You shudder when your wet folds meet the cold air, and Credence seems to be in awe seeing your naked body.

“Now… Y-You can try anything you want…”

He looks up, surprised. “A-Are you sure…? What if I hurt you…?”

“I will speak if it hurts… For now… I want you to do what you want,” you answer.

Credence breathes in, and he begins his exploration of your body, slowly. He moves backwards, to the edge of the bed, and starts from your feet. He kisses your ankle, and then trails more kisses to your knees, all the while worshipping your body. Not to mention his long, slender fingers who caress your skin softly.

“You’re so beautiful… Like a goddess… My savior…”

He moves higher, to the insides of your thigh. You’re extremely sensitive in the area, and with every kisses he gives, your breathing turns into pants.

“Oh my God, ah!”

“A light in the darkness…” You cover your face with your hands, ashamed of the expression you make.

“My sweet, my love… Please…” he says, uncovering your face by taking your hands in his, and he kisses your knuckles the way you did. “There’s no need to be ashamed of…” Even though his words are thick with adoration and honey, you still feel the fear and the nervousness in his voice. You make no comment on this though.

He hesitantly spreads your legs, and dips his head in between. He licks the wet folds, and your hands immediately grasp the sheets. You thrust your hips upwards, and he takes the pleasure to another level. Credence, with less nervousness, starts lapping your cunt, licking and dipping his tongue inside you.

“H-Holy shit, Credence! I- I-“

He keeps doing so as he notices the small bud near your cunt, and he touches the bud with his finger. You gasp again when he does so, and he replaces his finger with his thumb, and makes a circling motion.

As he picks up the pace, you can feel the tension building in your lower abdomen. You’re getting close. You just need that push.

“C-Credence- P-put your finger inside of me-“you say shakily.

He conforms and inserts his index and middle finger deeply inside you. You arch your back and let out a moan. “N-Now, pump it in a-and out.”

He does what you asked him to do, and begin pumping his fingers in and out of you. Just then, he hits the right spot, and you let out the building tension. You cum onto his fingers, and he watches in shock.

“Credence… Have- Have you ever done t-this before…?” you ask him as you hastily pull his face to you. He shakes his head and he welcomes your lips to his. “Because you’re such a professional in doing that,” you mumble between the kisses. You wipe his hands with your sheets, and he looks in wonder.

“Now,” you begin, switching places with him, where he’s beneath you this time. “Your turn.”

You pull down his trousers and his briefs forcefully, letting his cock spring free. He hisses when you do so, the sensitive head wet with precum.

“Getting really excited, aren’t we?” you say as you take his cock in your hands. You slowly pump his manhood from the base, and he throws his head back, moaning your name as well as enjoying the feeling.

You take the cock into your mouth, and begin licking his head feverishly. The salty taste fills your mouth, and you hollow your mouth and suck it harder. Then, you take all of him inside of your mouth, only to be able to take 2/3 of it because of the length of his member. You bob your head up and down, and he keeps groaning and grunting your name.

Once you feel you’ve built enough tension, you suck his head hardly, while you pump his base with your hands.

“[N-Name], I- I- Aaah!!”

With a scream, he shots his cum into your mouth, and you take it generously. You gulp down the salty liquid, and wipe the spilled cum on your hands and mouth. Credence looks at you in disbelief, with lust and love shining from his eyes.

“Now… To the main course…” you say to him. Your hand goes to his now soft cock, giving it a few pumps. Slowly, Credence’s cock is getting hard again.

“Credence,” you call his name. He looks at you.

“I love you,” you smile. He smiles back, and says, “I love you too.”

“Oh, by the way, can you um… Take the small pink box there?” you ask him. He glances to your bedside, before digging into the cupboard, and take the requested box. He gives to you, and you take out a condom, and toss the box aside.

You rip the foil in your hand, and put on the condom on his cock. Then, you position yourself on his manhood, before easing yourself slowly. He groans when you envelope his dick in your cunt, your walls tightening around him.

You move sensually, feeling his dick inside of you, stretching your walls. You begin moving, thrusting your hips, and riding his cock at the same time. He thrusts up every time you thrust down, deepening the sensation, expanding the range of his cock inside of you.

Credence feels he’s losing control of the darkness over the sensation, and he’s gritting his teeth as he tries so hard not to. Black smoke starts to emanate from him, filling the room. You notice this, and encourage him to be in control. You lean to his ear.

“Let go, Credence. Be in control… Dominate me.”

Your words were like a switch to him. In an instant, he flipped you over without taking his dick out of you. With you now beneath him again, he pins your hand to the sides. He slowly let some of the black smoke out of him, but not completely that he loses his body. He suddenly thrusts forcefully into you, making you cry in pleasure.

He keeps thrusting hard, and with each thrust, the smoke seems to move on its own, matching Credence’s motions. Your moans and his grunts fill the room, mixing into one sinful symphony. He bites down onto the nape of your neck, and you cry out his name. He doesn’t seem to hear, for he has lost control.

“Credence! Ah! I-I’m going to cum again-“

He replies with a kiss, biting down your lip as he does one last thrust which sends you over the edge. You come onto his dick, and he comes into the condom, filling it fully.

As he regains his consciousness, the smoke disappears back into him, and his body collapses beside yours. You wipe the sweat on his face, kissing him on the cheek.

“[Name]… D-Did I…?”

“You did, and I thoroughly enjoyed it,” you pause, poking his nose. “Very much,” you giggle.

He gives you a warm smile, before his looks turn into horror as he notices the bite mark on the nape of your neck. He apologizes profusely, and you calm him down by saying it can be healed with magic. Still, he looks guilty, as if he just accidentally kicked a puppy.

You want to cuddle with him, very much so, but you know your sisters might come home soon. So with your magic, you clean yourself and Credemce, clean the room, and get dressed. He looks genuinely exhausted, but you have to send him home.

As you bid your goodbye to him in the dark alley beside the Second Salem church, with one last kiss on the lips, you Apparate back to the apartment, leaving Credence with a mixed feeling of happy and sad.

He will sure to be missing you. And he will definitely see you soon. For he is now certain that he has found a safe place.

This one’s for you.

Authors Note: Hey everyone, I am sorry it has taken me a while to finally post some sort of writing, things have been hectic for me, both good and bad. But, here is a small little something I managed to come up with. 

The song I used is ‘This one’s for you, by Luke Combs.' 

There is a bit of a funny story on how I found this artist. But, it is a really good song, in my opinion. (It is country).  Enjoy! Xx



He had heard all the excuses, all the lines, and had been through all the of the hardest goodbyes. All he wanted was to drown out all the noise, and the void in his heart, the void that had built a home in the most vulnerable part of him. She hurt him in the worst of ways, she was home to him, and now he is a lost somewhere in the distance of what could have been and what was — Dying inside.

He was in desperate need of a helping hand, someone who wasn’t his mother or one of his guy friends who allow him to find himself at the bottom of a bottle.

You push his hotel door open, not surprised when your eyes scan the mess of clothes on the floor, everything scattered everywhere like a tornado had ripped through the room.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, the sheets messily enveloping him, just covering his lower back.

“Shawn, Shawn get up,” you sigh, placing the two coffees and the breakfast you had gotten down on the table that is sporting a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Babe?” he mumbles drowsily, his voice rough, a pitiful indication that he is more than likely hung over.

The sound of him calling you babe, sends shivers down your back. You shake your head before breathing out and stepping closer to the bed.

“No, it is me. Remember me?” You challenge, drawing the coverings away from him, exposing him as he lies in just a pair of sweatpants. “I’m your best friend that you have failed to communicate with. Did you forget about me, or did you just want to be a dick?” you continue, casting the sheets to the floor, allowing them to waddle up in the corner.

“Oh ha, ha. I know your voice anywhere,” Shawn mumbles into his voice, unamused by being woken up.

“Mhm, whatever slacker, get your ass up,”

“No, sleepin’”

You raise a brow, shaking your head disapprovingly as he stays on the bed, not moving from his sprawled out position.

“It is almost twelve, get up. I have coffee and food to cure your hang over.” You insist, stepping away from the bed and walking to where you left the food and the coffees.

You turn back around with the coffees in your hand, your eyes observing his body as it sits up on the bed, his body tanned, and toned.

“Two sugars?” he queries, working his unsteady hand through his ruffled hair that is just as smooth resembling as it was when he left for tour four months ago.

You roll your eyes, handing him the coffee, “Yes, it is exactly how you like it. Want to tell me why the hell you have been neglecting me?” You question, sitting on the edge of the bed while he takes a few sips of the beverage.

He looks down, refusing to make eye contact with you for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts— thoughts that have been hung up on his now, ex-girlfriend, for the last seven months.  

“You could have called me, you know?” you whisper, handing him a paper bag with a Danish in it,

“And say what? That she fucking left me without warning, without reason? She got up and left one morning and nobody knows why.” He raises his voice slightly, “What am I meant to say to anyone? Everyone wants me to have explanations and I don’t. I don’t know why she left me, I don’t know why, okay. Didn’t think calling you would give me the damn answers… What would you have said? Huh? 'I told you so?’”

Keep reading

Smitten

Just a small thing, prompted by @brendaonao3′s (who I can’t seem to tag, so at least I don’t need to worry about whether doing so would be rude or not!) post here. Also @kiriei and @the lovely anonymous who sent me the incredibly sweet message (thank you, I hope you like this!).

I’d like to (will probably?) do something bigger, better, faster, more (*tips hat to the 4 Non Blondes*) with the idea but I’m currently drowning in something biggish–it kept eating at me, though, then the phones went down at work this arvo so… Modern AU, with strong skinny Steve and Winter Soldier Bucky (I know, shrinkyclinks from me, what a surprise).

________________________________________

Smitten

“Don’t they at least have, I don’t know, a mutated giant badger or something? I feel like these guys aren’t even trying.” Clint’s disgruntlement came through loud and clear over the comms.

Bucky didn’t reply, but he agreed. He understood why bad guys attacked New York. At least, why showy bad guys attacked New York. The ones who were trying to make a name for themselves, trying to be something instead of trying to get something. No one was gonna give you prime-time coverage for attacking some one horse town in the middle of nowhere. But he’d never understand why they didn’t put a little more time into preparing for the inevitability of ending up with the Avengers on their tails.

At least these guys had made an effort and dressed the part: black on black wasn’t exactly creative, but they’d tried to look menacing and every one of the swarm who’d descended on the formerly peaceful neighbourhood was built like a tank.

About as smart as tanks, too, from what Bucky, perched high above the action, could see through his scope, but they were fast and even dumbasses could brandish…whatever the hell their weapons were, green sparks erupting from the ends of short silver poles. They’d instantly zeroed in on Iron Man when he’d appeared, giving the rest of them time to clear out the bystanders and lock down the area, the cops throwing up cordons to keep everyone out. Now it was just blood-hounding and herd-dogging as they chased down the scattered swarm.

“No giant badgers, mutated or otherwise.” Tony sighed. “I think I’m insulted. Does anyone need backup?”

Variations on the theme of ‘I’m good’ came back, Bucky grunting his response as he shifted his weight. His left ass cheek was asleep and he didn’t know why he was here. Unless things were pretty damn dire they didn’t call him up for ops in heavily populated areas. Mostly because people didn’t, as a general rule, find the sudden appearance of the Winter Soldier (somehow the former never seemed to register when they came face to face with the metal arm) any more reassuring than whatever it was he was supposed to be saving them from.

Keep reading

Camera Shy (Part One)

AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him. - Bughead leading to eventual smut.

Read on AO3 here

A/N - I’m terrible with summaries but I hope you guys like this. This idea came to me a few days ago when the Cole photographer photoset was going around. Enjoy! 

Keep reading

Dark Amber Eyes (Jordan Fisher x Reader)

Word Count: 4705 (FUCK YEAH) Request/Summary: This one wasn’t requested, I just got the idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it. Tis College AU. Warnings: Cussing should be it. (:

A/N-  A special thanks to @hamilton-noodles for proofreading, remember I owe ya one. 

Okay, I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted any writing but hopefully this will bring me back into the swing of things. Also Jordan in glasses. You know it’s my weakness. I had to. Enjoy (:

Tagging- @lionhearte-d


1

Like most nights, tonight, sleep was… elusive. You let a short sigh slip from your lips before reaching over and turning on the lamp, shoving your glasses onto your face. You sighed again and slid out of bed, the cuffs of your over-sized pajama pants dragging on the carpet behind you as you shuffled to the door. With a sniffle, you grabbed your favorite mug from the cupboard and wandered out the door.

You turned on the faucet and tucked your mug under the flow until it was sufficiently filled. After sauntering over to the microwave, you reached for the handle, but your hand bumped into another. “Oh.” You spoke quietly, looking up at the young man next to you. This was a community kitchen for your floor but it wasn’t often you found someone here at three AM. He smiled politely, “You can- I’m not-” You told each other simultaneously before you both fell into nervous laughter. Your laughter soon turned into a fit of coughs. “Are you okay?” He asked, bumping the frame of his glasses to push them back up his nose. “Yeah-” You coughed again, “I’m just a little-” Cough. “Sick.” Cough. “I was going to make some tea.” You glanced down at the mug in your hands. “Hot cocoa.” He replied, gesturing to his own mug. You nodded as a few moments of awkward stillness passed by, the endless thrumming emanating from the lights above you becoming increasingly more annoying.

Keep reading