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

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

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

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.

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

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

Movies that End in a Kiss

Relationship: Dean x Reader
Rating: Teens and up.
Warnings: None.
A/N: There is an author’s note at the end because I don’t want to spoil anything.

~3.5k words

Summary: You tell Dean you’re in love with him exactly three times.

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You tell Dean Winchester you love him three times.

Well no, you’ve said it more often than that growing up with him and Sam, taken in by John at a young enough age that the Winchesters are the only family you’ve ever really known. The only one you can remember, anyway. That’s what I love you has meant so far. It meant you’re my family, I’d die for you too and I’m here.

That’s the brothers’ way of saying it, to you, to each other. Never ones for ‘chick flick moments’ or at least that’s what Dean had decided. Jerk. Bitch. Loser.

That’s not the kind of ‘I love you’ being addressed here. You tell Dean you’re in love with him exactly three times.

The first, in true (honorary)Winchester fashion, happens while you’re dying. Of course, it takes a demon taking a bite out of your jugular to man up and fess up. You’re at the end of your rope, out of time. If you’re ever going to tell Dean, it’s now.

You open your mouth but he shushes you.

“Don’t talk,” he says.

I love you, you think as hard as you can, your eyes going wide as though that will help convey the message. Like you could communicate it telepathically or he could read the words in your irises.

Dean misunderstands. He presses the blue, now blood-black, bandana more firmly onto your fatal wound. “Don’t be scared. Sam’s breaking the angel warding right now and Cas is going to get his feathery ass in here and he’s going to heal you up and then we’ll go get burgers and that’ll be that.”

“Dean,” you rasp.

“Okay fine, we’ll go to a twenty-four-hour breakfast place.”

You chortle out a broken sound and wince immediately but the pain blurs along with everything else. You’ve lost a lot of blood, you know because you’re laying in it.

Dean taps your face and it isn’t gentle. “Hey, hey, stay with me, Loser. Don’t be a wimp, I bet it doesn’t even hurt.”

You chuckle again and say, “Only when I laugh.”

“Well then we’re screwed. I’m a very funny guy.” Dean lets out his own small laugh and grins down at you.

You think it doesn’t hurt at all when he’s the one laughing. That sound could erase all your pains and aches. It has many times before. Has made very bad situations, very dark times, just a little better, just a little easier. His smile isn’t half bad either.

The sunlight spills into the space from the open barn doors behind you, hitting Dean’s face in a way that’s making him hard to see, a little hard to look at. He’s lit up like a greek hero might be. Teary eyes shiny and twinkling in the light, hair more blond than brown as the rays filter through it, his skin goddamn glimmers like bronzed gold. Or maybe that’s just your vision that’s starting to go. Spots dance somewhere between your face and Dean’s so this must be it.

“I love you, Dean,” you say because you think it’s the last thing you’ll ever speak and there are no words more important.

You vaguely hear Dean laugh a broken sound, you think you hear him say Cas’ name, something touches you (other than Dean that has his arms around you), everything tingles and everything goes dark.

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Jaehyun - Pizza-girl & Dimple-boy

genre: fluff and other stuff idk some college!au thingy majingy
word count: 5,527
plot: Yo mama ineffable mark HAHHAHHHAHAHAHAH (as you know personally I love reading your fanfics) Im gonna request something. Can you write about a pizza deliverer (a girl) not knowing she is delivering to Jaehyun’s house during his break. okay I believe your creativity from here 💕 Please write more often I will support you forever💖💖
A/N: @jaelyeoh sorry for taking 103473475638324 years ily hope this won’t be a disappointment. the ending is so gross

Originally posted by jihansoul94

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anonymous asked:

I also live under the system that you claim is so horrible. Is your sister a US citizen? I'm American and my mother pays for the healthcare of all three of us and she's never had a problem. We are not rich. There's a lot of shit going on in the U.K. with the labor party and parliament right now that you should be focused on. There's a show called BBC question time in case you don't follow the politics of your own country. ☺️

Thank you for your concern, anon, but it’s unnecessary. I’m a law student—ergo, I am neck deep in British politics already, so your recommendation about Question Time while appreciated, is really redundant. Surprisingly, people have no problem being concerned about and discussing domestic and international politics. We have learned to juggle that, because even American domestic politics tend to have international consequences. Remember that time the Republican Party played chicken with the debt ceiling in an attempt to destroy funding for Obamacare and that jittered global financial markets? Yeah. I also happen to study public international law and human rights law, and the way economic and social rights like the right to healthcare are understood globally is part of my course, so pardon my interest in the ongoing attempt to repeal Obamacare.

1. Well, to answer your question, my sister is not an American citizen; but all the same she’s lived under that system. She had to enrol onto a health plan as a university student studying in the US. When she needed medication and vaccinations, it was expensive as hell; she had to pay it out of pocket on top of the premium because for some reason or another that drug wasn’t covered. Both of us had prior to lived under some form of universal healthcare, and she never had to fork out so much money for health care and medication before. In short, she’s in the US on a student visa—it’s not a case where she failed to purchase insurance. Obamacare has tried to improve the situation but healthcare costs are still seriously inflated compared to other systems she has lived under. Maybe you think that’s normal- my sister will tell you it’s not.

2. And if you noticed, in that post I wrote comparing health outcomes and spending between the US and other systems of universal healthcare—unlike you, I’m not under the illusion that anecdotal experiences alone are good rebuttals. I posted charts and links from data and studies which demonstrated time and again that you guys are spending far more on healthcare per capita than practically every other wealthy developed country without better life expectancy, health outcomes or the ability to guarantee access to those unable to pay. I didn’t merely rely on my own experience of the NHS’ single-payer system when responding to someone who was baldly asserting that healthcare in the EU & those other Asian countries with universal healthcare ‘paled’ in comparison to the US, and who was ludicrously claiming we were coming over in droves to enjoy this fantastic health care. It is curious that you think ‘I’m American, my mother pays for the healthcare for all three of us, and she’s never had a problem’ is an answer to that—hell, you don’t even have to listen to me. 

3. You are telling me all those criticisms levelled by your fellow Americans at your country’s healthcare system are all imaginary, merely because you personally have no problem with healthcare? Honestly, if you have no problems with your healthcare I’m glad. Healthcare is not something anybody should ever go bankrupt over. I’m aware that different states have different rules, and some have done a good job with making ACA work. I hope that is the case for you. But all the same- if there’s nothing wrong with your system, why is everyone continuing to rework it- including the Republicans? The ACA tried to improve it but it’s still unfinished. The US is a system where you can have the best healthcare in the world if you are wealthy because of how much medical R&D goes on- but the worst in the developed world if you are poor and unemployed. And that’s the measure that matters- how those who are the most vulnerable are treated. 

4. And I’ve to ask if you have ever seriously had your health coverage tested. You never quite know how much your health coverage is worth until there is a medical emergency. And that’s exactly what I mean. My family would be paying through the nose for cancer medication if we were American, because that particular drug costs over $100,000 per year in the United States even though it is years out of its patent thanks to the failure of the US government to take a sledgehammer to inflated drug prices and medical costs. And I haven’t even mentioned the long hospitalisation that family member had after 3 surgeries to remove a recurring tumour, not to mention all the follow up check-ups, blood tests and MRI scans to ensure it doesn’t come back. Universal healthcare saved his life, and also saved all of us a whole lot of stress because being sick is bad enough, let alone worrying about whether you can pay. Yeah, I am glad he is not American. Because he got sick way before the ACA banned rejecting people for pre-existing conditions and tried to better regulate abuse of the market. Maybe people will call this ‘free-loading’, but you know what? Prior to his illness, when he was younger and healthier—he had been a taxpayer contributing his bit to the social safety net with the understanding that everyone contributes to the system that we all need to use someday.

5. This is what happens when pharmaceutical companies can donate to candidates because there aren’t campaign spending limits or prohibitions on corporate donations. These things are either outright illegal or heavily regulated in other developed countries for good reason that you don’t want these corporations writing our healthcare laws. Additionally, practically every other developed country has aggressively acted to combat price inflation in the health industry, often by having governments use their massive bargaining power representing millions of healthcare users bargain down the price of drugs, or government regulations requiring publication of procedure costs across the board to identify price gouging. You should do a comparison of the cost of US medical procedures—they are frequently multiple times that of other wealthy countries offering the same quality. Can you look at this chart and tell me it’s acceptable? There’s more where it came from!

6. With single-payer healthcare in the UK, nobody has to go bankrupt because of a health emergency, nobody has to have their kids’ lives disrupted to make ends meet because the risk is spread out amongst millions of people. Healthcare coverage is also completely detached from employment, so coverage doesn’t depend on having a job, employers don’t have to expend money figuring out coverage and employees are mobile. Sounds like a good thing for the economy, no? Is our system perfect? Hell no! Healthcare is always a complex issue. But we have achieved all of this at a lower cost than the US healthcare system. And single-payer isn’t even the only system out there- Germany and Singapore are two examples of countries that have a mixed system of public and private insurance to cover everybody. Every other wealthy country has figured this out for decades. If the GOP can’t come up with a solution, it’s not because there aren’t dozens of real-life models running for decades to choose from. 

So, maybe take your own advice. Do your fellow Americans a favour and follow the politics of your own country more closely. Especially when the latest GOP bill would magnify the worst problems of the ACA and probably even destroy health insurance markets and creates a perverse incentive not to buy healthcare if you unfortunately lapsed for 2 months. It might even affect your present health insurance. Maybe even read up more on how other countries do it and realise the inflated costs still plaguing the system are unacceptable, inasmuch as ACA tried to help. And yeah, I stand by what I said. It’s terrible the most powerful country in the world and engine of the global economy doesn’t guarantee its citizens the healthcare they deserve. 

(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.

you know, we’re gonna be alright {s.m}

authors note: this wasn’t really a request and i really don’t even write imagines all that often and this is a really really old one that’s been sitting in the drafts of my personal blog for forever and a day now, so i thought why not post it while i work on finishing another imagine. english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry if i made any mistakes. this is a very short part one of a (probably) two part story with a cliffhanger at the end, so yeah, enjoy!!

triggers: mentions of a car accident.

word count: 819

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renaroo  asked:

So your DickBabs commentary is some of the best around, but I was wondering if you might be willing to explain what works about BatCat for you? : )

So, it’s taken me forever to answer this because my life has been ridiculous lately and also I’m terrible sometimes, but! I did not forget about you, dearest of Renas! (To those who don’t know, this post is to celebrate Rena reaching 1000 followers!) So, let’s get down to this:

(Also: Thank you for the compliment on my DickBabs commentary. <3 *hugs*)

So, I think a lot of people spend most of their time talking about why Selina is good for Bruce when they talk about this ship, and there’s definitely a lot to be said there and I’m going to get to that, but I want to start off talking about why I think Bruce is good for Selina, which is a side that I think often gets ignored. (Possibly because Bruce gets such a bad reputation that people can’t believe he could possibly contribute anything positive to a relationship - but that is only true when Bruce is written by terrible writers like Frank Miller, and I firmly ignore that characterization of Bruce.)

So, to get there I’m going to start off talking about this scene, which is one of the most essential Bruce/Selina scenes in my book:

This is from the first issue of Ed Brubaker’s Catwoman run, which I’m sure you already know, but I’m just stating it for the record so that if anyone is reading this post and hasn’t picked up Ed Brubaker’s Catwoman run, consider this my advertisement for it: Go pick up Ed Brubaker’s Catwoman run. You will not be disappointed. (Also… not to beat a dead horse, but… the above scene is the note Ed Brubaker chose to begin his Catwoman run on. Let’s just compare that to how Judd Winick chose to begin his. *moment of silence*)

Anyway, there are a handful of scenes that just define Bruce and Selina to me, that are the first to come to mind when I’m thinking about how I see their dynamic and why I ship them, and this is one of the major ones. Because here’s the thing I think so many people miss: The reason Bruce treats Selina differently than his other antagonists isn’t just because he thinks she looks hot in her costume. It’s because he knows she’s not a villain, at the core of who she is. He thinks she’s a good person, in spite of everything. And that is so, so important.

See, here’s the thing: Selina is someone who’s been underestimated and dismissed for most of her life. She’s been looked down on for her gender, her lower-class background, her history in sex work. And when she has been taken seriously, she’s been perversely appreciated for the bad side of who she is. The few people to really respect her have appreciated her intelligence and skills for how useful she could be to them as a thief. But no one really looked at her and saw her as someone with the potential to be more than a thief. (Not even Holly, although Holly’s relationship with Selina is positive and good for Selina in different ways.) Certainly no one saw her as someone with the potential to be a hero - until Bruce.

And if you’ll forgive me for going into Psychology Major mode for a minute: People will live up or down to expectations. If you’ve been treated all your life as if you can’t be anything but a thief and a troublemaker and someone with purely selfish interests, it’s really hard to believe that you can be anything else. It’s not impossible, and I’d certainly never suggest that Selina never did anything heroic or altruistic until she met Bruce. But it’s hard. Someone believing in you is a really, really powerful thing.

This is something that, for all its faults as a movie, The Dark Knight Rises did get very right about Bruce and Selina’s relationship:

Selina tries to present herself as someone driven purely by selfishness, but Bruce sees through that: “I think there’s more to you than that.” And I think what Selina says in response is so revealing. It’s clearly intended as a denial - saying that if he keeps expecting her to be better, he’ll only keep being let down in response. But it also clearly shows that he’s gotten to her - which is, of course, confirmed by the decisions she makes later in the movie. As much as she wants to pretend it doesn’t, Bruce’s faith in Selina has an effect on her.

The thing is, knowing you’ve let someone down isn’t a pleasant feeling. But it can sometimes be a positive thing. Knowing you’ve let someone down means knowing that they had high expectations for you in the first place. It means someone saw you as capable of making the right decisions, and that’s actually much healthier than knowing you didn’t let anyone down because they never expected anything better of you to begin with.

Bruce is good for Selina because he looks at her and says “I believe that deep down, you’re really a good person.“ Because he looks at her and says ”There’s more to you than that.” And that’s something Selina hasn’t had a lot of in her life, maybe something she’s never had until Bruce comes along. He sees past her bad side and sees her potential to be something better. And instead of letting her off the hook, he challenges her to be the person he knows she’s capable of being. He has faith in her. He believes she can be a hero, and eventually that leads to Selina believing it, too. 

(But it’s so, so important to note that Selina doesn’t start acting more heroic for Bruce. She’s not doing it because he wanted it or to make him happy. She does it because it’s right for her. At her heart, Selina is a hero - all Bruce did is see the heroic qualities that were in her all along.)

The second reason I ship them so hard together is: They help each other have fun.

(The comic this panel is from - Catwoman #32 - is basically my all-time Bruce/Selina issue ever, and you’ll definitely be seeing more scans from it in this post.) 

Bruce is the one who needs more help in this area, obviously, like he says here. It’s no secret that Bruce is serious and withdrawn even with the people he loves most, and has a tendency to focus on The Mission above everyone else. So it’s a huge deal that he’s playful and mischievous and flirtatious with Selina, because not many people get to see that side of him. And no one brings it out in exactly the way that Selina does. He lets himself relax around her in a way which is really good for him:

(See? I told you we weren’t done with that issue! I love this scene because you so rarely see Bruce - or Selina, for that matter - being so completely relaxed and happy and normal.)

But I think it’s worth noting that Selina always looks like she’s having just as much fun as Bruce is, and I think that’s really good for her, too. I think people tend to forget that as much as Selina is by nature a more playful and flirtatious person than Bruce, she isn’t really a much happier one. She’s had a really hard and lonely life over the years, and that’s why it’s so great to see how genuinely happy she seems with Bruce:

I always love how huge Selina’s smile is in the first panel of this sequence (drawn by the always awesome Cameron Stewart). She’s just having so much fun, and I think that’s really just as good for her as it is for Bruce.

Even when they’re fighting, it’s very often play-fighting more than anything else:

(This scene, which is from Batman: The Brave and the Bold, can be watched here. And it is awesome.)

Look at those smiles. Bruce and Selina just bring out the fun side in each other, and I really love that. You’d never see Bruce smiling like that if he was fighting, say, the Joker. (For good reason.)

This is something Gotham has also gotten very right in their depiction of baby!Bruce and Selina:

SO. FREAKING. CUTE.

AHEM. *is mature*

(By the way: Do you remember a while back when I sent you a message that was basically like “RENA RENA RENA YOU HAVE TO GO WATCH GOTHAM NOW”? It was right after this episode aired.)

I find this scene particularly poignant because this is not long after Bruce’s parents have died, and it’s the first time you really see him having fun, smiling and laughing like that. Frankly, it’s the first time in the show that you see Bruce or Selina acting like normal children. (Even Alfred notices and is forced to approve of Selina!) And even as adults, I think they still bring out that lighthearted side in each other:

Although as this scene shows, what Bruce and Selina consider “fun” might not be what most people consider fun, which bring me to my next point: They just get each other, on a very fundamental level. Partly that’s because they’re very alike, and partly because they’ve come to understand each other over the years. There’s this scene I really wish I could have found - I tried, believe me - where (if I’m remembering correctly) Selina is sneaking into Gotham during the No Man’s Land era, and Bruce knows exactly how she’ll do it - because it’s the same way he would. Bruce and Selina are also very different from each other in certain ways, obviously, but a lot of the time they’re just very in sync like that:

Despite their differences, Bruce and Selina have a lot in common. They’re both highly intelligent and skilled, they’ve both known a lot of tragedy in their lives, they’re both far lonelier than they care to admit. They’re both hesitant to trust people. They both follow a unique moral code that others don’t always understand - though those moral codes are not exactly the same. They’re both highly independent and can be too stubborn for their own good. At their heart, they’re both driven by a very real desire to help other people. And I think they’re similar in a more indefinable way, too. They’re just cut from the same cloth, somehow. They understand each other both instinctively and also, as the years go by, because of the true friendship they’ve formed:

I think that’s something that’s so often overlooked with Bruce and Selina: People look at them and only see the Cat-and-Bat game, the “lovers on opposite sides!” trope, and they overlook the fact that Bruce and Selina are genuinely friends. More than that, despite all the odds, they’ve come to really trust each other over the years. Even though they still disagree over plenty of things, they know they can always turn to each other in a time of need:

I think nothing says more about how much Bruce trusts Selina than the fact that he willingly told her his secret identity - something that I’m not only pretty sure was unheard of for Bruce to do, it’s pretty dang unheard of in the superhero world in general. For a point of comparison, Clark didn’t tell Lois his secret identity until after they were engaged, and whether you think that’s good writing of Clark or not (I don’t, necessarily), it still says something about what a big deal it was for Bruce to trust Selina that way. In the superhero world, telling someone your secret identity is basically the biggest statement of trust you can make.

Bruce telling Selina his secret identity (though I firmly headcanon that she’d figured it out anyway) is a huge statement - and, as he basically says himself here, tantamount to an admission that he wants a real relationship with her. For Bruce to willingly make that leap is huge.

Because of that trust, you see Bruce and Selina really open up to each other in a way that they really don’t with most people, especially other love interests. They’re willing to let themselves be vulnerable and emotionally open. And Bruce is actually vocal about his feelings in a way that you practically never see:

Now, obviously Heart of Hush as a storyline is not without its problematic elements, but I still love this scene. Because Bruce pouring his heart out like that? Bruce basically never does that. Getting an “I love you” out of Bruce is a big deal already, but an entire speech? That says a lot, again, about how much he’s willing to open up to Selina. (Granted, she was pretending to be asleep… but let’s be honest: he most likely knew she was pretending.) 

I think it’s also significant that pretty much any time either of them dreams about settling down, or there’s an alternate universe where they do, it shows them ending up married to each other:

I think for both Bruce and Selina, when they imagine living a normal life, they think about having a normal relationship with each other, ending up married. But they think that because they’re not “normal”, they can’t have that - which is a theme going back to the earliest days of their relationship:

(This scene is from Batman #3, which also happens to be the issue where Selina kissed Bruce for the first time.)

Bruce and Selina will never be “just another boy and girl”, and I think they both assume that means they can never have anything resembling an actual committed relationship. The fact that they were starting to take steps in that direction before the reboot was a huge deal for both of them. But I think it’s going to take a lot of character growth for both of them before they realize that they can have an actual relationship without either of them compromising who they are.

One more reason to ship them: Bruce moons over Selina like a little schoolboy. Enough said. ;-)

CONTROL YOUR FACE, BRUCE. You are supposed to be the terrifying personification of justice and the night and you’re acting like an absolute goober.

(And it’s amazing.)

Oh, and Dick approves:

Dick approves so much that Dick is actually the one who encouraged Bruce to tell Selina his secret identity, which, again: Huge frickin’ deal.

It’s not just a “Ha ha, Dick ships it” thing, either. Dick knows Bruce better than pretty much anyone. So the fact that Dick looks at Bruce’s relationship with Selina and says “Yeah, this relationship is good for you”? That says a lot. Because Dick knows what he’s talking about when it comes to Bruce.

Also, they have almost 75 years of history, which is pretty dang cool:

I’m a sucker for history. And theirs is a 75-year-long multimedia history spanning comics, cartoons, live-action TV, movies, and videogames, which just makes it even more amazing. 

In conclusion: Have some of my miscellaneous favorite Bat/Cat scenes that I couldn’t find a way to include in this post.

(This is another scene that speaks to how well Selina understands Bruce… and also brings up a very important point about Bruce’s nature that far too many Batman adaptations forget.)

(I did warn you there’d be a lot of scenes from this issue.)

And last but not least:

Yeah. That seems a good note to end this post on.

Hope you enjoyed, sweetheart! (And same goes to anyone else reading this, too!)

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

Austin Nights Part 2

Pairing: Single!Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 3070

Summary: The reader lives in Austin and unknowingly runs into Jensen at a bonfire and sparks fly. Part 1 After abruptly leaving the party, the reader hopes to run into Jay again.

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.

———

Saturdays were your favorite days. No school, no kids, and you especially appreciated no alarm clocks. You woke up a bit later than usual considering you had not been able to fall asleep easily as you replayed the rush of last night over and over again in your head. The sun peaked through the blinds and you stretched in bed. You could hear Angie in the other room dealing with what sounded like a pretty awful hangover.

As your feet hit the floor, a sense of urgency hit you. You wanted to see him again and the only way to do that would be to scale the streets of Austin. No. You tried to repress the feeling. One, there is no way he would even remember you. Two, he probably found some other chick as there as probably a line of willing subjects after you ditched the fire. Three, even if he did remember you, there was no way you were just going to run into him by chance. But it would be nice to get out and do something anyways you compromised as an excuse.

After you got ready fairly quickly, you went to find Angie who seemed to be recovering just fine.

“Hey.” You chirped. “Up for bloody marys and brunch?”

“Um, yes! That’s the best idea you ever had.” She instantly jumped up and grabbed her purse.

At brunch, Angie gushed over Jared and how unbelievably nice he was. You tired to play it cool but threw in a question every now and then about how to find them or if she knew anything about how long they would be here. She was just as clueless as you. The two of you walked up and down SoCo window shopping and trying to get ideas of how to redecorate the apartment. You couldn’t help but feel you were only half involved in the process as you kept scanning the crowds for a glimpse of someone familiar.

Angie tired out quickly and abandoned you to take a nap in preparation for her plans tonight which you knew meant she wanted to do something but had no idea what. You headed downtown and picked up some records at Waterloo and settled down at BookPeople. You wasted a couple of hours browsing through books and worked a bit on creating a few therapy based activities for some of the children at the school.

When you finally made it back home you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed but tried to remind yourself of what you had concluded earlier. Angie was lounging about.

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Zelda’s Log #1: The Green Light

A/N: Lorde’s new single Green Light insprired me not only for this particular piece, but also for the whole concept of this story, which is basically about having a fresh start, feeling hope and moving on from the past.

I was going to post this during the Easter weekend, but I think it’s better to post it now as a thank you gift for the 300 followers milestone. 

Happy reading!

—–

Dawn. She always gets up at dawn. Or even before it, as if the hundred years containing the Calamity had been more than enough slumber for her.

Zelda is trying to absorb all: landscapes, names of plants and living beings, their characteristics and properties, rare natural phenomena, and types of stones.

Taking advantage of the freedom she has gained, she has dived head on into the vast sea of knowledge at her feet.

Ever since she heard about it from a traveler at the gate of Hateno Village, her efforts have been focused in seeing a phenomenon called green light, which occurs in a moment between the darkest hour of night and the very first light of the day. It can occur at dusk too.

It is said it is a sign of good omens, and brings good fortune to whoever sees it.

Some other people say you can ask for a wish, and it will surely come true.

4:45 a.m., clear skies. Last quarter of the fifth moon.

Already sitting on the hill, waiting for the sunrise. Atmospheric conditions are excellent at the moment. According to my observations, the sunrise should occur in about 30 to 45 minutes.

‘You’re not going to see it today’, a raspy, familiar voice said, throwing a blanket over her shoulders.

‘Link’. Her eyes followed him as he sat on the grass next to her.

'It’s too clear’, he pointed out, trying to contain a yawn, ‘and it’s not cold enough’.

'Not cold enough?’, she repeated, not believing his words. 'My hands are a little numb, for your information’.

As a man of few words, he just shrugged, and remained silently to her side.

5:36 a.m.

Link informed me that according to his experience, the existing weather conditions do not meet the criteria to produce the green light.

Despite my opposition to his affirmation, he was right.

Zelda spent the rest of the morning certainly frustrated, for she had been trying every morning and evening for days, without results.

After lunch, she went outside to water the planters with Silent Princess seedlings - to her surprise, she started succeeding at growing them. This sort of domesticity suited them just as it did to her.

The clopping and whinny of horses nearby made her turn to see who it was.

Epona and Storm were being carried by Link, who looked pretty much ready to go adventuring.

'Get ready quick, please’, he requested, trying his best not to sound imposing, 'we need to arrive near Lurlin Village before sunset if we want to find a good spot to see the sunrise’.

Zelda’s answer to his instructions was a beaming smile, and a rushed stride to the house to pick her current most important belongings: her Sheikah slate and her log.

After their arrival, Link looked for a good spot to set camp and watch the sunrise. Once they settled, Zelda observed the wildlife while Link grabbed some​ fish and shellfish for dinner.

8:55 p.m.

Link and I settled camp on the beach to see the sunrise. I have to urge him to write a cookbook, or at least I could record the recipes for him. I could roll down the beach from all the food I’ve eaten, and not only today. Every day is a feast for him.

'Why do you want to see that so much?’, he asked her, while he poked the fire.

'It is mainly curiosity’, she confessed, resting her head on his shoulder, 'I’ve never seen anything like that!’

Link was not convinced by her answer. There was an underlying motivation for her to be so intrigued by something he saw more than once on his journey, which was, in fact, a mirage. Nothing else, nothing more.

Zelda dozed off, still resting by his side. Soon, the warmth from the fire, and her very own, dragged him to sleep too.

His eyes shot open quite some time later, realizing he had let his guard down. And Zelda was not at his side. It was about to be daybreak.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, and suddenly found her silhouette, walking barefoot down the beach, the small waves covering her feet. She was lost in her own thoughts: the true image of a Silent Princess.

He approached her discreetly, but keeping a distance,to avoid startling her - he loved these moments of introspection of hers, for her silence gave away so much more than she showed.

‘You found me’, she noticed, not turning to him, eyes fixated on the first rays of sunlight, ‘A long time ago I would have been so pissed off… Now I couldn’t get any happier that you did’.

He chuckled, remembering the images in his head from those times.

Suddenly, the sky went from a hazy blue to a bright pale green. The horizon was dyed in the same hues, making a rim around the rising sun. The sea reflected the light, turning the beach in a surreal landscape. Zelda audibly gasped in awe.

‘It’s happening’, she gleefully murmured.

She immediately changed her demeanor, as remembering something, and closed her eyes and joined her hands, putting herself in a very solemn mood. Link had only seen her like that during her trials.

Zelda opened her eyes as the green light faded into a golden flash of sunlight.

‘So what did you ask for?’, he asked her, coming closer.

‘You never bought it, didn’t you?’, she looked at him, kicking the water.

He just shook his head.

‘I wished for many things: closure, forgiveness, for the energy and patience that requires to rebuild a kingdom’ - she sighed - ‘and for you, to remember all your life before the Calamity. Your life is as in ruins as mine’.

Link gave her a timid smile.

‘I have a incomplete idea of who I was’, he recognized, ‘but I have someone who remembers me, and that’s all I need’ - he held her hand - ‘as long as I have you, everything will be alright’.

She held him tight at these words. Their embrace was warmer as the sun rose, bringing joy to her heart.

6:05 a.m. First day of waning crescent.

I saw the green light. It is amazing indeed, but it clearly depends on the position of the viewer. I still made my wish though. For although it may be a mirage, it is certainly magical.

We plan on returning home quickly, have some rest and then set course to Zora’s Domain. I think it must be our first destination. It has been on my head for several days.

Not Anything Special (Part 1)

Caspian x Reader

May 19, 2017

Word Count: 2383

Requested by: @coolcoolfantasy

Warnings: none

Note: GOSH I am so sorry this took so long! Thank you for being so patient! This prompt is amazing, and it got away from me so quickly, I’m going to have to split it up into parts! I hope you enjoy it!

I think it’s better if it’s a Caspian x  reader about how Caspian fall in love with a simple girl who came after Pevensies. Caspian forgets about Susan and fall in love with her even though she is not a warrior but just a normal girl.

^^^

The carriage jostles Y/N around for the umpteenth time and she inwardly groans. She hated coach rides, but her parents didn’t trust to send her across all of Narnia on a horse, but herself. An elderly lady, the only other person in the coach, glances up at her.

“Do you want something to help you sleep? I have some herbs in my pack,” she offers, motioning with knobby hand to the bag that sits between their feet.

“No, thank you, madam,” Y/N replies. She looks out the window. “I’ve just been on this coach for too long.”

The woman nods. “Are you going to Cair Paravel for the celebration of the Kings and Queens returning and helping to end the reign of the Telmarines?”

“No. My parents are sending me to the capital for a better life. My mother is friends with a servant in the castle and she has found me a position there,” Y/N tells the woman.  

The woman nods again, her hands returning to the weaving in her lap. “Opportunities are good when people are around the Kings and Queens.”

Y/N eyes the woman, whose hands were moving over the thread in her hands expertly, even though it was dark in the cabin. “You speak as if you knew them yourself.”

The woman chuckles. “I wish I had.”

“You might still,” Y/N offers, and the woman smiles sadly.

“Maybe so.”

 ~*~*~

When the carriage arrives in the city six hours later, the woman was asleep. Y/N leans forward to wake her, but her eye catches a bright flash of red and gold to the side and her hand falls instead around the edge of the window.

The walls of the Telmarine capital slowly grow taller as the coach travels deeper into the city. Y/N stares up in awe at the exquisite architecture, so much better than the small houses that littered her own village so many miles away. The carriage suddenly starts to slow and the old woman blinks awake.

“Oh, we’ve arrived,” she says, her voice raspier than before. “Why have we stopped?”

Y/N shrugs and leans her head out of the window to ask the driver the question.

“There’s a festival going on, madam,” he replies. “We’ll be stalled here for a while.”

The woman starts to put her things together. “Wait, what are you doing?” Y/N asks, and the woman stops and looks up at her with wide, blue eyes.

“I’m getting out. I want to see the Kings and Queens as soon as possible.” Y/N watches, dumbfounded, as the woman gets her things together, opens the door, and starts to climb out of the cab without waiting for someone to stop and help her. Y/N quickly grabs her things and pays the driver, following the woman.

“Can you show me the direction to the castle?” Y/N asks, and the woman glances over her shoulder.

“Follow me, dearie, and you’ll see them soon enough!” the woman calls, and Y/N scurries to catch up. She wasn’t necessarily looking for the family of royals, but she went with the woman anyway. They reach the edge of the courtyard that most of the crowd was gathered in, just in time to see an enormous lion and a boy watch as four people, two boys and two girls, walk through a man-sized hole in a tree and disappear. Cries erupt from the crowd and the dark haired boy turns away from the tree. He looks over the crowd, his jaw set tight, and Y/N’s stomach churns when his eyes flit from her to someone else.

“That was them,” the woman sighs, folding her hands in front of her. “I missed them again.”

“Again?” Y/N asks, and the woman turns and starts to make her way back through the crowd. “Wait, madam!”

“Go to the castle, young one,” the woman says, turning. She puts an unexpectedly strong hand on Y/N’s arm. “Do something amazing with this opportunity you’ve been given.”

Y/N nods, speechless, and watches as the woman hobbles through the crowd, disappearing in the mass of people.

 ~*~*~

(Four and a half years later)

“Y/N!” Amelie, the servant’s boss, whispers, and Y/N jolts awake. “You’re on breakfast duty! Remember to brush your hair today, because you’re serving!” Amelie bustles away, disappearing amongst the bunks that lined the room, waking the others.

Y/N rubs her eyes and sits up. She’s yanked back onto her pillow, though, by her hair that was caught under her bottom. She sighs in agitation and pulls her hair out from under her and sits up again, swinging her legs over the side. Standing, she stretches her arms and reaches for her toes, letting her back pop. She goes to her trunk and pulls out her clothes for the day and then moves quietly through the servant’s quarters.

She takes a quick bath in the cold water that was sitting in one of the tubs, waiting for someone to use it. After she gets out, she refills the tub with water from a spout in the corner of the room and then changes into her day clothes. Just as she was leaving, she remembers Amelie’s order to brush her hair, and does so. She pulls it into a braid before leaving the bathroom to go back to her bunk. There, she puts away her nightgown and pulls out her socks and boots.

Finally exiting the servant’s quarters, she takes a deep breath of Narnian air, putting her hands on her hips as she walks along the short cobbled path to the kitchen. She could hear the clatter of pots and pans and the shout of the cook to his kitchen staff before she even opened the heavy door, stopping to pet the stray cat that hung around the bushes outside the kitchen.

Heaving the door open, Y/N slips around the edge of the kitchen to where the other servants on serving duty were chatting, putting on their aprons and little bonnets that were customary for servants that would be amongst the king and other members of the royal court. Y/N picks up her own apron and starts to tie it around her waist. She had been on serving duty for the past few months, and had always been treated with the civility that King Caspian gave them all; she was happy that it wasn’t anything like the horror stories she had heard of how the Telmarines treated the staff.

“Y/N, I want you to lead the group today,” Amelie says, and Y/N nods in response. She had been comfortable in the position of leadership that Amelie had put her in the last few weeks, and was happy that she was being placed with the responsibility.

The servants line up next to the counter that the cook’s staff put the plates that were ready to be served on, relaxed and chatting, the younger girls giggling behind Y/N. The cook shouts out, “Service!” The servants straighten their shoulders in unison and fall silent, taking plates as they came. Y/N pushes the door open with her back, hands laden with plates of fruits and grilled meat.

Y/N makes her way to the table that consisted of the king and his valued court members that were lucky enough to live in the castle. Y/N and the rest of the staff fan out gracefully, setting plates down in synchronized movements.

As Y/N places King Caspian’s plates before him, he smiles up at her. Y/N bows her head, curtseying a bit, and could swear that he was watching her leave as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Y/N takes her place on the wall with a pitcher of fruit juice in her hand for the rest of the meal, ready to serve when she was beckoned. She didn’t look at the table directly, but watched the members of the court eat out of the corner of her eye.

At the end of the meal, the court leaves, single file. When the last member was gone, the team of servants swoop in to clean the mess and start to help prepare for lunch, where all members of the court and some of their family members would be joining. As Y/N stacks dirty plates on top of one another, placing silver ware in a shallow bucket, Amelie enters the room, scanning her staff’s faces.

“Y/N,” she says, making her way across the room. Her face was red, but Y/N couldn’t tell if it was from work or anger. Y/N straightens and her eyes widen, ready to be chastised if it were the latter. “What did you do during the meal?”

“I- I served, madam,” Y/N stammers.

Who?” Amelie says forcefully.

“The king, madam,” Y/N squeaks. “And then I served juice when needed. I stood against the wall when I wasn’t doing so, madam.”

Amelie searches Y/N’s face, the woman’s dark, greying hair whisked across her wrinkled forehead. Her eyes look furiously across Y/N’s face, looking for signs of lies.

“M-may I ask why you’re inquiring, madam?” Y/N says hesitantly.

Amelie runs a hand down her face, wiping sweat off. “The king has requested your presence,” she says, finally. “And I know you. You’re good and kind, and wouldn’t make a mistake big enough that the king would punish you himself. So this has to be a good thing. Go, clean up. He requested for you to meet him immediately.”

Y/N gulps, surprised. “Yes, madam,” she says, picking up her skirts so she could move quicker. Y/N pushes to the sink in the corner of the kitchen, dunking her hands in the pot of clean water and scooping water to her face. She scrubs her hands and smooths her dress before turning out of the kitchen door.

Walking quickly, her mind swimming, Y/N feels terror growing in her chest. What did she do? Did she touch him on accident? Did she have a nasty look on her face unconsciously? Did she not bow low enough? None of these things sounded like something the king would normally be upset about, but Y/N just didn’t know what she did.

“Excuse me!” a voice comes from the doorway that Y/N had just hurried past. She stops for a second, turning and looking over her shoulder. She was required to stop if it was a member of the court stopping her, but she was ready to tell anyone else that she had to go. Her mouth already parted to snap, her words die in her throat as the king himself stepped out from around the archway. “You are Y/N, right?” he asks, his accent strong.

Gulping, Y/N curtseys, ducking deeper than she usually did, in case that was what she was in trouble for. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Please, walk with me,” he says, motioning to the doorway. He waits for her to be at his side for he starts into the large courtyard that laid in the center of the palace. King Caspian doesn’t talk at first, but walks next to her with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the greenery and statues that surrounded him. Finally, he stops in a small, secluded circle that was surrounded by hedges. A statue of a woman sits in the center, looking tall and regal.

“Do you know who this is a statue of?” the king asks her, looking down at her.

Y/N gazes at the statue. “Queen Susan? The Gentle?”

Caspian laughs. “No. This is her sister, Queen Lucy.” They both look up at the statue and he adds, “The Valiant.”

“Ah,” Y/N says, her voice shaking. “You knew them, right?”

“Yes, for a short time,” King Caspian replies. He looks down at Y/N again. “How long have you worked for the castle?”

“Four and a half years, Your Majesty,” Y/N replies.

“Please, call me Caspian. That means you were here when they left?”

“I arrived shortly after,” Y/N tells him. He sits on a stone bench and motions for her to join him. She sits as far as she could away from him, but it wasn’t much.

“And your accent and looks tell me you aren’t from this region,” Caspian continues.

Y/N touches her long, blonde braid. “No, Your Majesty- er, Caspian.”

Caspian nods, a soft smile on his face. They sit in silence for a few moments. A soft breeze flows through the small courtyard, and Caspian was quiet for so long that Y/N allowed herself a small second to enjoy the breeze. After almost five years, she still wasn’t used to how fresh the air was in the capital.

“I’m being advised by my court that I need to be married,” Caspian says, and Y/N snaps back to attention. “And…” he trails off, not looking at Y/N.

“And?” Y/N prompts, forgetting her manners for a moment.

“I’ve taken a liking to you,” Caspian says, turning to her. “I’d like to start courting you, if you would let me.”

Y/N stares at Caspian, her mind blank. “Excuse me?” she says, her mouth moving without her brain.

“I know this is sudden, but you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met,” Caspian says, his hands fidgeting. Y/N looks down at them. “And I’ve met with the women that the court has suggested for me, and none of them compare to you.”

Y/N looks back up at Caspian’s face. His wide, dark eyes stare back into hers. It wasn’t as if she could say no, right? He could have her banished, and it would be awkward to serve around him if he didn’t.

“Sure,” Y/N finally forces out, and Caspian’s face breaks out into a wide smile.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Y/N says, nodding.

“Fantastic!” Caspian says, standing and pulling her to her feet. Realizing that he had just touched her without her permission, he yanks his hands back and blushes. “Sorry. Okay. So, I’ll come and visit you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Y/N says, amused at his boyish glee. How could he be so happy to be building a relationship with her? She wasn’t anything special. Other girls that she had seen around the castle that were drooling over the king were skilled in reputable tasks, such as archery or sword fighting or extremely intricate weaving. They were all incredibly smart. She was a mediocre weaver, and didn’t take any interest in weaponry. While she could read and write, she didn’t practice often.

“I’ll meet with you soon,” Caspian says again, bowing a little. She gasps as he leaves. He had bowed to her.

passengers (2820)

one week before hyperion reaches habitat 7, the pathfinder team is brought out of cryogenic stasis. their first obstacle: shouldering the weight of what they’ve left behind.

scott ryder/liam kosta. 5886 words, sfw, falling in love over improper use of the tempest group chat. written for fun 15 days before andromeda’s launch so everything is Probably Very Wrong

DISCLAIMER: this fic is not based explicitly on the andromeda gameplay that’s been revealed so far, but there are still a few canon bits hidden here and there. if you don’t want to read spoilers then please don’t read.

The first thing Liam Kosta thinks after six-hundred years of cryogenic stasis is: Am I awake?

And then, when it’s apparent that he is: We made it, right? Did we make it?

And after that he isn’t thinking much of anything but thank God, thank God– are the others–? Oh my God, thank God, because no amount of experience in the field could really prepare anybody for something like this, and they’d known that going in.

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