i should do a tshirt for her


Originally posted by perfectfeelings

A/N: I tired a little something different with this one. I hope you enjoy!! and @petersjacket I really hope this helps a bit 💛💛

Word Count: 1533 total

Pairing: Sam Holland x Reader


You know I’d fall apart without you / I don’t know how you do what you do / ‘Cause everything that don’t make sense about me / Makes sense when I’m with you

“UGH! I missed it again!” Sam half yelled, sitting at the piano bench.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I wonder what it could mean when a true villian, shown as totally creepy and evil, says a line. And another character says the exact same line at a different time and place? (Maybe we should put the answer on a t-shirt.)

Hey Nonny,

Indeed, what could it mean???

^^^^^^^^^^ EVIL

I mean honestly, I don’t buy her piss poor “redemption” arch. Or her “sacrifice” of jumping in front of a bullet or how all she wanted was to be a mommy and Mrs. Watson. Fuck that shit.

I have no clue what Mofftiss were thinking OR their future plans. But what I do know is that Mary is an evil villain.

Speaking of tshirts I still want my Season 4 Was Bad tshirt that I dreamed about the other night.

Delphine Got Married Pt 12

Hello all. So it feels like it’s been forever and it kind of has been. Sorry about that. Enjoy the fluff… or whatever this is… 

Originally posted by cosimacormier

“This should fit.” Cosima offered Delphine a small stack of clothes. “I usually have to roll the jeans up so… some of us weren’t graced with such an awesome growth spurt.” It was a little bit of a sore spot for her. She’d stopped growing and so had Sarah. Unfortunately for them, they were now about the same height as their mother. “Some of us are doomed to live the life of garden gnomes.”

“I think your height is perfect.” Delphine took the clothes, the chill from her still wet clothes finally having gotten to her.

“Perfect for being the shortest person in class.”

Keep reading

Bad Habits, pt. 2.

“I just can’t keep doing this,” he said, pulling on the tshirt she’d bought him for his birthday last year. “It’s unhealthy for both of us.”

She stayed where she was in bed and took a moment to just stare at him. He was intoxicating. Perhaps that’s why she kept inviting him back into her life, even when she knew she should have left a long time ago. But the time for such wishes had past, and her mornings had become filled with the scent of stale coffee laced with regret.

“Go then,” she said, looking away as her heart splintered, its pieces trailing after him in his wake.

She laid staring at the ceiling later that night and wondered why she couldn’t just quit him like she had quit the nicotine.

But, then, she laughed to herself, bad habits never truly die, do they? They’re just recycled into new ones.

Some things are inevitable.

s. k. g.

anonymous asked:

u should write abt lexa having a bad day & o helping her

you hadn’t really been that surprised when lexa didn’t respond to your text earlier in the morning—some days she’s kind of terrible with her phone because she just doesn’t want to deal with more language than she has to, and so you show up at her door at exactly 10:00 am, when you’d agreed to meet to go to the smithsonian. you knock and after a few seconds the door swings open and you see lexa look at you and then kind of scramble back to the little space between her bookcase and bed frame. 

‘uh,’ you say, ‘hey?’

lexa clenches her jaw, tips her head back, takes both of her thin, delicate hands in fists and pounds them into her thighs. she’s in running shorts and her legs are red and maybe even a little swollen, you notice, for as much as you can see, because she’s folded herself up. 

you walk calmly but quickly over to her and kneel down, but you know not to touch her. you’re already in over your head, though, because her hands are in fists and you don’t know how long she’s been like this, or why — if there was something that happened, or if this was just a bad day — but clarke is out of town, getting to meet up with raven from university, at this nerd conference that abby had gotten them into, some panel and demonstration about developing surgical robotics, so they’re not going to answer their phones. there’s a metronome ticking away steadily in the background and lexa seems to try to be regulating her breaths or something to a certain count.

they’re hitching, though, and you think she’s trying not to cry, and you chest twists uncomfortably, because this is one of your best friends, usually so impeccably composed, harsh and terrifying and brilliant in class and playing hockey and at academic decathlon and model UN and mathletes, your friend who is always gentle to the other bodies she loves, your friend who is in love, completely, who has big, soft eyes and careful hands. lexa and clarke are a month away from graduation, a month away from lexa finishing at the top of her class, a summer and then they’re going to move to new york and start this big new part of their lives. lexa’s playing hockey and studying math at columbia and clarke gets to study biochemistry and make art at NYU, and you just want them to be happy. and safe.

and, you’re pretty sure right now, lexa’s not.

‘lexa?’ you say, and she swallows and scratches, hard, once, at the skin just above her knees. so, maybe talking isn’t the best thing, but you’re kind of out of your depth. you try to remember what clarke does on days where lexa’s brain is off, after haircuts or one time when snow got into her boot, if her food touches, twice after big hockey games where things were loud and once lexa’s adrenaline and focus from the matches faded, she was overwhelmed. but nothing has been this bad at all, because lexa’s hands are still in fists and she’s starting to knock the back her head — softly, but still — against the wall. 

‘hey,’ you try again, and she knocks it harder and you wince, but you barrel on. ‘can you help me some way know what you need right now?’

lexa takes a few breaths and then opens her eyes to look near yours. more like your nose, but close enough. ‘anya,’ she gets out, roughly, and you nod. you should’ve thought about that but you’re starting to get worried because that seems like it took a lot out of lexa, who starts to struggle out of the polis field hockey hoodie she has on. that’s soft, at least, so you take the opportunity to get your phone out as quickly as possible and start to type out a message to anya. you’d call her but lexa seems extremely unhappy when you talk, so a text is fine.

lexa gets her hoodie off just as you finish your text — hi so lexa’s really REALLY freaking out like a super bad day and clarke is outta town so what should i do?? help pls — and you grimace when you see the skin just blow her tattoo is scratched raw enough to bleed a little. she starts to scratch again and you know you’re supposed to do everything you can before touching her but she’s in one of clarke’s tshirts and barefoot and her hair is messy and long and a little wild right now, so you know it’s not her clothes or a haircut, and you have a big hockey game in two days but nothing has been too intense lately, so it’s not that, and she doesn’t like when you talk, and she’s hurting herself, so you take a deep breath to steel yourself and then scoot forward a little bit to put your hand gently but firmly around her wrist. she jolts and glares at you but then she softens and nods a little bit and curls her hands back into fists but puts them carefully by her sides. 

your phone buzzes in your other hand and you sigh with relief when you see anya has texted you back.

—what’s she like
—my seminar finishes in ten minutes i’ll drive down when i get out
—imma take my bike but thats still like maybe two hours r u good for that time?

you look at lexa who is mouthing something — numbers, you think, but not in english — and respond. 

she hates when i talk & she’s having trouble not scratching or hitting herself
—she put her metronome on btw i didnt even know she had one of those anyway i think shes counting to that
—im cool to stay w her thats fine w me

lexa’s still counting and you’re relieved the speech bubble on anya’s side of the conversation pops up.

—k imma leave now fuck it cognitive linguistics is childs play anyway
—im TAing rn do u think this will get me fired lmao
—whatever imma call u in a minute n put it on speaker she needs to speak in farsi

you nod to yourself and wait for a few seconds before your phone starts ringing, and you do as anya said. her voice is clear and not too loud, and you don’t know farsi but she says something gentle and a little funny, you’re sure, because lexa’s head snaps up and she looks pained but a little smile sneaks its way onto her face. she responds quietly with a few words in farsi, and anya talks for a while. lexa seems to listen without too much issue, even though you think she might start crying soon, and then anya says your name quietly, so you take the phone off speaker and put it to your ear.

lexa’s glaring a little now, which is never a good sign, and anya’s voice is gentle. ‘you can just say yes and no if you don’t want to go out of the room to talk,’ she says.

‘okay,’ you say, and then you both laugh a little. 

‘or okay, i guess,’ she says. ‘anyway,’ she continues, ‘lexa’s pretty fucked up right now, she’s not sure what happened but she didn’t sleep too long last night and she apparently almost fell off her bike yesterday? which i guess “dismantled her balance,” whatever that means.’

you want to laugh but lexa looks pained and is tapping her knuckles against the floor lightly. 

‘so yeah you need to get her onto her bed, preferably away from the floor and the wall so that if she hits stuff at least it’s soft. she’ll probably be fine with that, we talked about it.’

‘ok, yeah,’ you say, and lexa knocks her head back into the wall again.

‘also, you should restart the metronome. doesn’t really matter where, just gives her a new rhythm to focus on.’


‘yeah, and, well,’ anya hesitates for a second and you know you’re not really going to like this next part, ‘if she gets any worse she needs to take her meds. she has a few in the front pocket of her backpack as well as a few in her nightstand, and like, she hates, and she’s going to fight you on it. like, she won’t hit you, but she maybe won’t open her mouth and she’s going to try to hide the pill under her tongue, idiot.’

you hum a little — fear and agreement, probably.

‘it’s a whopping dose of an anti-anxiety so she hates it because it knocks her out for like a day and a half but it’s the only way her brain can reset when she gets like this. she told me she’s worried she’ll still be foggy for your hockey game on monday?’

‘yeah, semifinals.’

‘yeah,’ anya says, ‘so she wants to try to calm down before she takes anything. but give her half an hour, nothing more. she can’t —’ anya takes a deep breath, and she’s remarkably calm through all of this but you know it affects her greatly — ‘she can’t hurt herself, okay?’

you look at lexa, who has now closed her eyes and is clenching her fists so hard her knuckles are white.

‘okay,’ you say. ‘thirty minutes, got it.’

anya sighs. ‘thank you, o. really.’

‘of course.’

‘she’s might say some shit to you but she won’t mean it, just. in advance.’


‘hey, i’m going to get on my bike now but i’ll see you as soon as i can, yeah?’

‘cool,’ you say. ‘ride safe.’

‘not a chance, gorgeous,’ she says, and you laugh once before she disconnects. 

you take a deep breath and then say, ‘lexa, hey, we need to get you onto your bed.’

she kind of looks like your voice is the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, but you think that has more to do with english than it does you personally, so that’s fine. she takes a few moments to compose herself and then she stands and folds back up on her duvet quickly, hugging her knees to her chest and kind of thumping her forehead into them, but only once, and not that hard. 

so that’s good.

you go over to her metronome and restart it, like anya had said to, and lexa smiles at you gently for a second before she curls back up entirely. you think, for a few minutes, that it’s working, that she’s calming, but then all of a sudden lexa’s sitting up and, before you can really do anything from stopping her from your place at the foot of the bed, she’s hitting the wall with her right hand. not a punch, more like a slap, but you crawl over quickly and take both of her wrists in her hands because she’s going to do it again if you don’t. 

‘no,’ she says, and she’s kind of a tiny wisp of a human being but you don’t get to play hockey at a division I ivy without being strong as fuck either, and you’re muscular and athletic and in killer shape but she’s struggling and you can’t hold onto her that well.

‘lexa,’ you say, and you try to sound calm and not as desperate as you are, ‘please, come on.’

she just shakes her head and it’s been twenty-three minutes but she’s getting worse, not anywhere near better, so you wait for a bit for her to stop struggling as much, and you tell her, ‘please do not hit anything again,’ before you hurry to get her backpack from where it’s sitting at the bottom corner of her bookcase. you open the front pocket and, sure enough, there’s a small prescription bottle with five pills in it. they’re kind of huge and you take one out and hold it carefully in your palm and when you turn back to lexa she looks equal parts scared and angry

‘i am not taking that,’ she says, and you feel a little like you’re about to argue with a very ripped four year old. 

‘yeah, you have to,’ you say. ‘anya said.’

‘anya’s not my physician,’ lexa bites back, but with her bruised knuckles and raw wrist and sore-looking thighs, her wild, glassy eyes, it isn’t as mean as it could be.

‘but she knows what to do right now,’ you say, ‘and she’s your big sister and she loves you so she wouldn’t ever suggest something that’d hurt you.’

she looks at you, very intently, for a moment before she shakes her head. ‘no.’


no,’ she says again, a little frantically this time. ‘please no.’

‘hey, it’ll be —’

she’s starting to cry and this is stupidly terrible. ‘please, octavia, no.’

you move closer to her steadily, even when she tries to back up into the corner of her bed and the wall. which essentially traps her from running away, which is convenient at least. 

when you get close enough she gives you a litany of adamant refusals and you’re sad, that her brain is hurting her like this, because normally it’s pretty amazing and she’s so full of love and compassion and she’s also fearsome, formidable. 

‘you gotta,’ you say, and she clenches her jaw shut and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt worse, really, then when you touch her cheek and she turns away from you with tears to try to avoid the capsule you end up having to press against her lips.

‘lexa,’ you say, a little desperate even though you’re trying to stay calm, ‘please.’

she glares at you, hard, says, ‘i hate this,’ very pointedly before resignedly taking the pill into her mouth and swallowing. you hand her water she’d had on her nightstand and she gulps once before coughing. ‘that’s vodka,’ she says, and when you take the cup and sniff, sure enough. 

it makes things a little less terrible, because you can’t help but laugh, and lexa laughs for a second before she glares again. 

‘this was shitty of you,’ she says, flopping onto her side and turning away before curling up tightly again. ‘i’m angry.’

‘i’m sorry, lexa.’ you are, because you’d very much rather have not had to do that.

‘whatever,’ she says. it’s sleepy already, and she sounds a little stoned, which is kind of impressive, because that shit is working fast.

‘i’ll stay until anya gets here,’ you say, and she grunts, which you take as confirmation. 

she falls asleep right after that, and you sigh with relief and a little regret. you don’t bother texting anya, because she’s probably breaking a million and one traffic rules right now on the sickest motorcycle you’ve ever seen to get here as fast as she can, but you shoot a text to clarke to call you but that she shouldn’t worry. you want her to enjoy her time and you kind of, at least now, do have everything under control. 

you look through some of lexa’s books on her shelf and then anya’s there. you let her in and she sighs when she sees her little sister conked out on her bed. ‘shit,’ she says. ‘was she really terrible?’

you find yourself wanting to cry, which you really don’t want to in front of anya, who is, like, cooler now than ever, in her leather racing jacket with her helmet tucked under her arm, perfect hair and makeup and her sharp, pretty face as always. 

you shrug because you don’t entirely trust yourself to talk.

‘i’m sorry, o,’ she says, then tugs you to her in a gruff one-armed hug, which is such an anya gesture it helps you breathe a little better. 

she puts her helmet down on lexa’s desk and drapes her jacket and backpack over the chair before sitting down on lexa’s bed and gently turning lexa a little. she doesn’t stir at all and you raise your brows. ‘that really does knock her out.’

‘oh yeah,’ anya says, ‘it’ll take us like five minutes to wake her up enough to even try to do anything.’

you nod.

‘hey,’ she says, examining lexa’s hands and wrist. ‘she has a first aid kit in her bathroom, can you grab that for me?’


you bring it back after finding it easily, and anya sets about calmly cleaning and bandaging lexa’s wrist and one of her knuckles, then spreads some bruise cream over the rest. 

‘i’m going to order lunch,’ she says, and you nod. ‘she needs to eat and i’m also hungry. you can stay if you want but you don’t need to, if you want a breather or whatever.’

you nod. ‘can i come back in like, half an hour?’

‘of course,’ anya says, then looks at you very seriously. ‘and, o, thank you.’

‘yeah.’ you say, ‘well, i love her.’

anya’s smile is gentle. ‘i know you do. me too, even though she’s a pain in the ass,’ she says, looking pointedly at lexa who doesn’t stir at all.

‘pizza’s cool?’ anya asks.

‘absolutely,’ you say, and then head out with a little wave.


you talk to clarke for a few minutes, leave out the worst parts of this whole thing because you figure lexa’s going to be okay, and clarke doesn’t need to freak out, and once you’re done with that you just go lie down on the grass by the little creek that runs through campus, close your eyes and let the spring quiet, the warmth that edges out the slightly cool breeze, soothe you. after a few minutes, where you might cry a little, but no one sees so whatever, you head back to lexa’s dorm, where anya is working on getting a very sleepy lexa awake. it’s kind of cute and lexa mostly just grumbles and then falls back asleep for a few tries, and anya looks at you with an exasperated and amused smile, before one time finally sticks and lexa musters up enough energy to sit up and wearily take a bite of the piece of pizza anya had cut up for her. you know by now to wait to eat until she’s asleep again, because even on her best days, lexa cannot stand chewing noises.

she eats half the pizza before her head starts to droop and anya takes the plate and fork with a laugh and a kiss to lexa’s forehead, and lexa mumbles something in farsi which makes anya grin.

lexa’s asleep again in what seems like seconds, and you spend the afternoon talking with anya and working on some of your homework. you update clarke a few hours later, and lexa just sleeps. kind of unnervingly still, but anya tells you that it’s par for the course, so you don’t worry.

anya rummages around lexa’s minifridge in the evening and pulls out some beer, offers one to you. they’re IPAs, which lexa loves and you think are kind of terrible, but you take it and sip a bit, because your nerves are still a bit frayed.

‘it was worse when she was little,’ anya says. ‘she split her head open once when she was six, stuff like that.’


‘yeah,’ anya says, then shrugs. ‘she does pretty amazingly though, with all her clubs and teams and friends and a girlfriend, you know? kid’s got a better social life than i do.’

you laugh. ‘she is weirdly popular.’

anya grins. ‘because she’s nice.’

‘she’d be abhorred if she heard you say that.’

‘nice SAT word.’

‘just took it.’

‘did you dethrone my sister?’

‘nah,’ you say, and you both know that would really never happen because lexa was twenty points short of a perfect score, which is just, like, insane. ‘but i did get plenty high enough to think of some really good schools.’

‘that’s awesome,’ anya says, and you know her family is like a pedigree of academics, and you’re the first kid in yours to even get a shot at university, and she’s just sincere. ‘if you ever want some princeton networking, or like, really, any of the ivies, let me know. i’d be happy to.’


‘absolutely,’ she says. 

‘thanks,’ you say, and she nods. you help her set up the air mattress a little later and then head back to sleep in your bed, which you do well, because that was exhausting, all things considered. 


lexa apologizes the next afternoon, when she’s able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. you wave it off — you’ve forgiven her already — and she sighs in relief when you say so. anya smiles and kisses lexa’s forehead and then gives you another gruff hug before flipping both of you off and heading out, and clarke gets in an hour later. she kisses lexa gently and then hugs you tight, and you’ve been reading a lot about queerness and community and found families. 

and, at least for these years, you think maybe — even though they’re weird and dramatic and a teeny bit dysfunctional — you think you’ve found yours.

anonymous asked:

Sorry but can I reply to that "That his jacket baby..go to nia tagged pics and u’ll see" anon too?! He's wearing his jacket! He's not in his tshirt. Cmon people

He’s wearing his jacket and hers is the newer version. Like when a brand re-releases a product as “better” quality or some ish, which drop dead has done and still does do, AND they usually test on their “models” first. Or should I call them “influencers”? Idk, I don’t really care. I just hate that I have to explain everything all the time 😑 exhausting.
You are right bb, tbh I wouldn’t be shocked if they all went together and she saw his jacket and was like “omg bro, we’re gonna be marchers, imma get mine”
Ya know, stuff that friends do pretty often.

anonymous asked:

How would the karusuno boys + oikawa, kuroo and kenma react if they switched bodies with their girlfriend?

After getting over the initial shock of it…

Hinata: “Waah! Shouyou - you’re really short!” She exclaimed, looking up at her own body. He blushed darkly and looked down on them, taking advantage to ruffle her/ his own hair. “Shut it- but I’ve got to say, it is easier to do this!” He wrapped an arm around her, pecked her cheek and grinned.

Kageyama: He tried to find a way to change back, though being in this form was interesting to say the least, he couldn’t fulfill his duties as a setter in this body as he wasn’t used to it at all. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit it was nice to see her face whenever he looked in a window or mirror.

Sawamura: Whist he was delighted to see the world through her eyes, he had to say it was an unsettling change. He didn’t like only being able to see her face in the mirror – not that he only dated her for her face of course. Hearing his voice, but her mannerisms was very strange too and he yearned to be able to hold her in his own arms again.

Tsukishima: It was strange how he could glare the same way even when he was in a different body. Though he seemed so oppposed to it at first, he gradually came to understand just how hard it was to not be tall. He had to have her hand him things from high-up shelves, but not having to pay attention to low hanging branches was nice, he supposed.

Tanaka: It was so cool to a. be experiencing such a mindboggling thing and b. be in her body! He wouldn’t admit to it, but he spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, and saying things he wanted to hear from her (usually videoing it on his phone as well to keep for later).

Azumane: “We have to find a way to reverse it!!” He screeched, wincing at the abnormal sound of his voice. He was dancing around in a panicked way, but stopped when she placed her hands on his shoulders. It was so strange to have his own body, but her comforting him nonetheless that he managed to calm down.

Nishinoya: “So this is how you see me!” He crowed, properly inspecting his hands, arms and legs. He made a show of whistling when he peeked down his tshirt, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning widely before sticking his thumb in his waistband and doing the same. The result was him getting a red hand-shaped print on both his cheeks.

Yamaguchi: He rubbed the back of his head, noting the odd sensation. Her hair was different from his after all. “I suppose we should do something about this, then.” He stated, hoping to see the same reassuring grin she’d always given him but instead he got a brilliant smile from himself.

Sugawara: He was very interested in seeing how he looked in her body, moving his arms this way and that and exclaiming happily each time. At the sight of her worried expression though, he smiled and wrapped his arms around her. It was strange to rest his cheek on what was his own chest, but he grinned reassuringly through this odd feeling. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we’ll change back!”

Oikawa: He was quite excited to see his own male body with his own eyes, noting just how tall and dashing he was. “Man, I wish I could stay being a girl!”

Kuroo: “Hey, you’re quite short, aren’t ya?” He exclaimed, plucking at the skirt he was wearing and stretching his sweater over his chest. As expected, he peeked down his top and cheered as he saw the bra-clad breasts he suddenly possessed.

Kenma: He was still startled naturally, but now he knew what it really was like to be a girl instead of just choosing a to be a female character in a video game.

Bad First Impressions

Can i have a scenario with yoongi where he introduces his gf to the boys
Sure! Honestly, I always laugh at this situation. Personally I’m a sucker for dumb, embarrassing BTS. I know it’s not exactly what you requested, but I hope you like it! -bb
“I’m serious guys!” Yoongi shouted, dashing from room to room with a trash bag and handfuls of garbage each time he emerged from another area. Bangtan lazed around still, laughing at their anxious pal, mocking his pleas.

“Suga hyung, I think you’re getting too worried! Relax!” Namjoon reassured him, lying on the couch. Yoongi appeared at his feet, clutching a can of aerosol lavender goodness. Weapon in hand, his eyes met Namjoon’s, and his eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Relax?” A long puff of sweet scented air freshener coated Namjoon’s bare feet. “How can I relax when she’s going to be here in ten minutes and this place smells as bad as your feet?” He continued rushing, pushing and pulling his bandmates from room to room, provoking them until they gave in. Gave in to picking up a dirty dish or two, putting some real clothes on, or, if he was lucky, even take a quick shower, just to help get the funk out of the air.

“If she can’t accept us for our true, raw selves, she isn’t the one anyway!” Jimin protested, being dragged by his ear in Yoongi’s clutch into the lounge. The panicked lover sat him down neatly next to the rest of the band, taking a step back to admire the half-decent setup he’d put together. He took a deep breath and silenced his friend’s, who were still groaning at the fact that they had to wear fancy clothes on their day off when they could be lounging around in old shorts and baggy tshirts, being as gross and free as they wanted.

“Guys, I really do appreciate you doing this for me. I really like her, a lot, and it means a lot that you guys are going to meet her!” He started. The smile on his face was sincere, and heartfelt. It was quickly frozen over by his cold glare and intense voice change. “So please, for the love of god, don’t be weird.”

“Weird? I don’t even know the meaning of the word!” Jin boasted, trying to portray the good older role model he should. Hoseok tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hyung, your shirt’s on backwards. Good try, though.” The room broken out into a rumble of groans and laughter again, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

“It’s her!” Yoongi shouted, booking it to he door. Down the hallway, he called out his final warning.

“If any of you embarrass me, I will end you. Clear?!” The door opened, and the smile went on.

“Hi Yoongi!” You grinned. He reached out and grabbed the tip of your hand, pulling you inside.

“Hey, (y/n)! How are you?” He made small talk as he walked you down the main hallway, giving you a small introduction to the place. He just prayed and prayed that when you made it to the lounge, all hell hadn’t broke loose in the short time he’d been gone.

“So, the guys are super excited to meet you! I kind of tamed them for today, so hopefully you aren’t too, well, scared off by them.” He laughed. You barely noticed the bead of sweat on his forehead. He tugged his hand, jerking you a little closer to his shoulder, which you nudged.

“I think it would take a lot more than a few friends of yours to scare me away from you.” You joked back. Before he could breathe easily, now knowing you were going into this with a pretty open mind, his panic mode switched right back on. A loud crash and a small yelp bellowed from the lounge area across the building.

The muffled voices of the boys froze you two in your tracks. You tried to hold back your laughter at whatever it was going on in there, while Yoongi placed one hand on his head, hung in shame.

“Taehyung did it!”
“Jungkook’s lying, he was the one who bumped into me!”
“How are we going to get this glass out of the carpet?”
“How are we going to get the glass out of Taehyung’s back?”
“Hyung calm dow-”
“YOU DID THIS TO ME! CALL AN AMBULANCE! Oh, I see a light, so bright… So welcoming…”
“It’s okay we don’t need a TV anymore. Taehyung is dramatic enough to replace 20 TV shows, apparently.”

You were about ready to burst at the seams with laughter, you could barely contain yourself. You looked at Yoongi, still hand in hand with you. You’d never seen him quite so defeated.

“You know what? I think they’ve got the situation under control. Maybe you can meet them another day. When I have more time to kick the stupidity out of them.” He sighed, unable to keep himself from cracking a smile when he looked at you. You finally let go, howling like a hyena.

“Shouldn’t you go see if he’s alright?” You asked between breaths. Yoongi just twirled around, spinning you with him. He started walking, headed for the same door you entered not 3 minutes ago.

“They’ll work it out.”


anonymous asked:

Dude I want ur girl!!!

Well first you should know some things.

She is a handful. No, she’s two handfuls. She is the most stubborn hard headed person you will ever know. She ALWAYS has to be right. Even when she knows she’s wrong she will still fight you to be right, so just let her be right all the time.

Some times she is going to push you away. She goes through things just like everyone else and she loves to push everyone away when she’s going through stuff. Don’t take it to heart just be patient and reassure her and be there for her. She just wants to know that you won’t leave no matter how difficult she is.

Treat her like a princess, because that’s what she is. Open every door for her! She loves that. Notice when she does something different with her hair or wears a new outfit and compliment her on it! And DO NOT forget to compliment her on her makeup, she loves getting compliments on it. Now I know she’s the most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world inside and out and everything about her is beyond perfect but she has her insecurities. She should never feel insecure about anything ever because I mean have you seen that girl? So tell her she’s gorgeous with or without makeup on, when she just wakes up, when she’s all dressed up or when she just has a tshirt and underwear on because no matter what she looks gorgeous and she’ll take your breath away.

She loves to be needed! If you need help with anything or even if you don’t, ask her. She loves to
help people. She can help you a lot with makeup, clothes, cooking, kids, your hair, well basically anything. She’s a life saver!

She is not a cuddling person! I know who doesn’t like to cuddle right?! But she doesn’t. She LOVES when you scratch her arm, it puts her to sleep in like 2 minutes. Ask for pickles at every restaurant you go to because she loves them! Don’t rush her because she hates that and she’ll just be in a bad mood if you do, so don’t! When she first wakes up she’s really grumpy so give her a couple minutes to wake up and be nice. Shes always wearing a robe, I know it sounds weird but once you see her in it your heart will melt. When you go to the movies she’ll want an icee that’s half blue and half red. She loves watching baseball and she gets really into games whenever she watches them, it’s so cute! Make sure you show her off everywhere you go! Say dumb stuff just to hear her laugh because that laugh will get you every time and make you fall more and more. Grab her face when you kiss her. And surprise her with little things just to see that perfect smile of hers.

Some of her favorite things are gum balls, peanut m&ms, slim jims, breadsticks from da boyz, cotton candy ice cream with gummy bears and gum balls and blue powerade, but it has to be from the fountain and have ice in it! She also loves country music. So if you don’t like it trust me you will shortly. You’ll fall in love when you two are in the car and she sings every country song that comes on the radio.

You’ll want to get jealous because everyone thinks she’s gorgeous and everyone wants her! But you need to remember that she’s yours and when she’s committed to something she’s committed and it’s only you. You will be the luckiest person in the whole entire world. This girl is unlike anyone you have ever known and you will fall in love with every single little thing that she does.

Another thing you should know is that she’s mine. I’m going to make her my wife and give her my last name and have a big nice house and beautiful kids with her, and im going to give her the world. So no you can’t have my girl because she’s mine and she always will be.

disney--girl  asked:

what about a percabeth based on the music video of that taylour swift song, you belong to me?

Love the music video for this song, btw.

  • Annabeth was doing homework, well finishing it. She looked up and she could see her neighbor, Percy Jackson, on the phone, pacing in his room. 
  • He was moving his hand down in frustration, something that she’s seen lately. He must have been on the phone with his girlfriend, Reyna. They’ve been fighting for a while.
  • She watched as his pacing slowed and hang up. She grabbed her sketch pad, knowing that he wanted to talk about it.
  • Percy looked through the window to see her writing on her pad. 
  • She lifted up the pad. It read: “You ok?” 
  • Percy smiled a tiny bit before he looked around his room and found his sketch, the one she bought him years ago when they were kids. 
  • They’ve been friends for so long but at the end of middle school into high school, things changed. Percy was the first ever eighth grader to make the JV football team. Then freshman year, he made the varsity team, making him instantly popular. And Annabeth, well she was mostly forgotten since she was the quiet nerd that no one seemed to notice, except Percy when they were at home. 
  • Percy sat on his bed and wrote, “Tired of drama.” before showing it to her. 
  • Annabeth flipped the page and wrote one word, “Sorry” with a frowny face on it. 
  • Percy shrugged, thinking that she wouldn’t understand. How could she? She wasn’t popular. She’s just Annabeth from next door, his best friend. 
  • Annabeth looked down at her pad and flipped the page.
  • Percy heard his mom call him for dinner. He got up and closed the blinds before he went downstairs to join her.
  • This is is. You can tell him how you feel. Annabeth thought as she started to write. He’s tired of drama and your feelings for him has built up for years and you can take him way from the drama.
  • She looked up and saw his blinds were closed. It was like an automatic response, but her arms held up the pad with “I love you”  
  • She sighed and put the pad down. She fell back on the bed. Why?
  • She got up to turn on her music. She needed to get this out of her mind. She let her favorite song play. 
  • But she couldn’t help it, she started to dance and sing into her hair brush like a stupid middle school girl. 
  • Percy came back up after having a couple slices of pizza with his mom and her boyfriend, Paul. He felt a little better after getting some food in him. 
  • He decided to see if Annabeth wanted to keep talking. He peeked through the blinds and he could see her dancing and singing around the room. 
  • Her moves weren’t like the ones he could see at the parties. They were old school dorky movies that he loved.
  • He chuckled before walking away, allowing her to get some privacy. 
  • When the song was over, Annabeth fell on the bed, tired but smiling like crazy.


  • It was a beautiful fall Saturday and Annabeth decided to sit outside and read the Great Gatsby on the bench in front of her house.
  • She heard a door open and then close. She looked up and saw Percy walking over to her. 
  • He was wearing a green tshirt and jeans. His normal outfit of choice.
  • Annabeth smiled. “Hey.”
  • “Hey.” Percy smiled. 
  • “Feeling better?” She asked.
  • “Yeah, a bit.” He replied. “Whatcha reading?”
  • “The Great Gatsby. The book we’re suppose to be reading for class.” 
  • He ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit…can you speed me up on what’s going on?”
  • “Percy, it’s an easy read. You might like it.” She smiled.
  • He sighed. “I always feel like I’m always behind in homework. Reyna’s always planning stuff for us.” 
  • “Then why do you keep agreeing? School should be your first priority. You can get kicked off the team if your grades drop.” Annabeth told him.
  • “I try to tell her, but I rather not get into a fight.” He sighed.
  • Annabeth swallowed a lump in her throat. “Maybe you can come over later and I’ll help you out.”
  • Percy smiled a bit. “That would be great.” 
  • A red convertible drove right up to them and Annabeth could feel Reyna throwing daggers at her. 
  • Percy smiled a tiny bit. “See you later.” He got up and went to the car.
  • When he got into the car, Reyna pulled him close and started to make out with him in front of Annabeth.
  • Annabeth got the message. Back off. He’s mine.


  • Percy blew off their meeting to do homework, but she couldn’t blame him. If Reyna found out that they were hanging out, she would end her.
  • At the moment, she was at the football game, cheering him on. She sat in the way back of the stands so Reyna, who was captain of the cheer leading team, wouldn’t notice her.
  • There was only a minute left on the clock and they were down by three.
  • She watched as Percy snapped the ball back to his friend, Jason. 
  • He took off after that, and headed towards the end zone. Jason saw him open and threw the ball right to him. 
  • Percy caught it and ran into the end zone, scoring a touch down. 
  • Everyone in the stands went crazy as his teammates crowded around him. 
  • Percy took off his helmet and cheered with everyone else. He did it. He helped the team win the homecoming football game. 
  • He went over to Reyna to celebrate but she was clearly flirting with his friend, Leo. 
  • She saw him and dismissed Leo with a wave of her hand. 
  • “What the hell Reyna?” Percy asked.
  • Reyna smiled her sly smile that she put on when she was trying to prove what she just did wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t do anything.”
  • “I saw you flirting with Leo!”
  • “I was not. You’re going crazy, Percy.”
  • Percy glared at her. “You know what, I’m done. We’re done.”
  • “You’re breaking up with me?!”
  • Percy nodded. “Yeah, we’re through Reyna.”  He walked away towards the rest of the team cheering.
  • Up in the stands, Annabeth saw the whole thing. Percy Jackson was single for the first time in years.


  • Percy was getting ready for the homecoming dance. He already agreed to go with his friends. 
  • He looked across the way to see Annabeth in her pajamas and doing homework. 
  • Annabeth looked up and they made eye contact for a second before Percy grabbed his sketch pad.
  • Annabeth sat up and grabbed hers, waiting for him to write first.
  • He held up his pad. “You going tonight?”
  • Annabeth looked down and wrote, “No, studying.”
  • Percy looked down, disappointed. He wrote on his pad, “I wish you were.”
  • Annabeth smiled a bit. 
  • Percy grabbed his jacket and left his room, ready to face everyone without a girlfriend.
  • Annabeth looked down at her notes and noticed something different. She moved her notes and saw the page where she wrote, “I love you”.
  • He wanted her there. Maybe she should go. She knew everything by heart already…


  • Percy sighed as he watched all his friends dance with their girlfriends. No one came up to him and asked about Reyna, who he was trying to avoid.
  • His friend, Grover, came over to him. “You okay man?”
  • “Yeah, fine.” He forced a smile. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
  • He headed towards the table with all the drinks when he saw her. His heart stopped. 
  • Annabeth walked in a beautiful light pink gown that poof out at her waist. Her hair was down in perfect curls and her glasses, gone. Her eyes were wondering around the gym, looking for him. 
  • Percy headed towards her. He had to talk to her. Tell her something that he couldn’t even admit to himself until now. 
  • Reyna saw how he was looking at Annabeth and walked over to him. “Hey Percy.”
  • Percy looked at her. “Go away Reyna.”
  • “Percy, we can talk about this.”
  • He glared at her. “We’re done!”
  • He kept moving towards Annabeth. “Annabeth.”
  • Her eyes landed on him and she smiled. 
  • “You look beautiful.” Percy smiled.
  • “You look handsome yourself.” She smiled.
  • He chuckled.
  • Annabeth bit her lip. “Percy, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
  • “What?” He asked.
  • She put her hand into her bag and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. She opened it up and it was her page that read, “I love you”.
  • Percy smiled. “I love you too.” 
  • Annabeth smiled back as Percy got closer. 
  • Her heart was pounding. This is it. Percy Jackson, her long time crush and best friend, was kissing her.
Soma Week Day 2: Nosebleed

So, yeah. Part two of my zombie au of yesterday! Yay! I would link it but I am on mobile! Rated T, enjoy!




“Do you think it’s safe to leave yet?” Soul asked, carefully lifting the curtain from the widow, immediately spotting a few walkers and lowering it again.

“We don’t really have much of a choice,” Maka said peeking out of the fridge. Soul grunted.

“I guess we should go then…” He trailed off. This time Maka grunted before going to her room to get changed as Soul headed to his.

Soul got changed from him pyjamas to skinny jeans, bike boots and a tshirt quickly before slipping on his leather jacket in hopes that the undead would not be able to bite through it. He threw his door open, walking down the hallway and throwing open Maka’s.

While she was changing.


Her bra was pretty though, it was red and holy fucking shit, was that black lace?!? Where did she get that and could he take it off her?

“Soul!” Maka yelled scandalized at her room mate, who was blatantly staring at her.

Soul immediately snapped out if it at stepped out if the room. Closing the door behind him.

He felt the blood drip down his face and hit his shirt. Shit. Now if it was not obvious before that he liked her body it sure as fuck was now, he thought as he stuffed Kleenex in his nose and pinched it to stop the bleeding.


Maka was embarrassed. Soul had walked in on her while she was changing. Soul. Her roommate and crush. And he had been staring at her, like actually staring, not glancing or happening to see, staring. If this was not the zombie apocalypse and the phone lines weren’t down, she would phone Liz immediately. Liz would know what to do, but for all Maka knew Liz was dead and she would have to deal with this problem on her own.

She quickly finished getting dressed, hastily replacing her pyjama shorts with full length jeans (not her skinny jeans, she did not need Soul looking at her like that right now, especially when they would be surrounded by zombies, so bootcut it was). She fixed her shirt before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door. Somehow this was scarier than facing the zombie that was her father.

She swung the door open.

“Soul,” she called out. Her voice echoing in their small apartment causing his head to pop out if the bathroom, quickly followed by the rest of him.

She was sure her face was burning, he even had a light blush. Before he could open his mouth and say something uncool and embarrassing she saw the blood in his shirt.

“Oh, my god! Soul are you hurt!?” She asked panic ringing in her voice as she pointed at the front of his shirt.

“What?” Soul asked, confused before following her finger to the incriminating red spots on his chest. “Oh, this. I umm… Just, uh, got… You know, a nosebleed,” he rushed out, stuttering.

Maka looked surprised and at her surprised face Soul turned even more tomato like, his skin almost matching his bloody red eyes. Maka giggled. She gave Soul a nosebleed. She gave Soul a nosebleed!

He flushed darker.

It was adorable.

He was adorable.

Wait what?

Maka mentally hit her self.

“You should probably change your shirt,” Maka explained to Soul when she recived a questioning stare at her longer than acceptable ogling. “It’s covered in blood, they might smell it,”

Soul smirked. Well, that could not be good, Maka thought before he pulled his sweater off leaving him shirtless in the hallway.

He had nice abs Maka noted.

Very nice abs.

She mentally slapped herself again before turning away and walking down the hall. Soul’s smirk was much to wide.

As she stalked away she heard his laughter and him digging around in his drawer for a new shirt.

Later when they were all properly dressed and bloodstain free the opened the door. The door swung open slowly as Maka gripped her baseball bat, Soul standing weaponlessly behind her. He felt useless.

As Maka stepped in to the hallway, he followed and both breathed a sigh if relief when the hallway was clear of any movement. Their relied quickly turned to choking coughs as Spirit was dead in the hallway and it was disgusting. Maka pulled Soul by the arm around her fathers body and down to the stairs before giving him her bat, violently pulling off her bandana and throwing up. He almost joined her heaving on to the ground. Almost.

Instead he rested his hand in her back and rubbed soothing circles on her spine until he passed the clasp of her bra and he immediately removed his hand, the memory of her from earlier filling his mind as he pulled away.

She had stopped throwing up now, Soul noted. She was also shaking. He reluctantly shifted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The blonde leaned against him.

When she recovered, Soul gently kissed her on the forehead, causing said girl to blush cutely as he tied her bandana around her face once more. His own blocking his blush before he stood up and offered her a hand up, which she took.

Than they moved on farther down the stairs and out to the lobby.


The street was crawling with zombies. Maka could see five from were they where and knowing from the walking dead, her and Soul’s favourite tv show before this happened (even if they got power back, they would never watch that show again) that there could be several more just out of view.

She was reluctant to open the door.

Soul felt the same. He pulled her in for a quick hug (he wanted a kiss) before she yanked the door open and dived at a zombie. She angled her bat just right, snapping the zombie’s neck, causing it to crumble to the ground.

She felt sick but she kept moving. There was a small corner store two blocks away. They just had to raid that, they could run in fill their backpacks and run out. Simple.

There were only a few more zombies on the way there, however they did here screaming and gunshots in the distance, they were carefully silent. At that, Soul grabbed her hand and walked quicker. They made it to the store with little excitement. When they arrived they found a dead cashier and a couple of zombie customers who where quickly taken care of.

Soul immediately started stuffing his backpack with various canned items (as well as some junk food when Maka was not looking.

They wrapped up their business in the store quickly before barricading the doors shut and heading home.

As they jogged home, Soul found a crow bar lying on the ground. He took it, have it a test swing before noticing a zombie nearby, he crept up behind the dead and smacked it hard over the head. It crumbled to the ground and they kept moving, not stopping to see if it really was dead before rushing back to their apartment.

When they got their they rushed up the stairs and unlocked the door. Once safe inside, They both released breaths they did not know they were holding.

Soul laughed awkwardly. “I thought we were gonna die,” he got out between his laughs, untying his bandana.

“Me too,” Maka agreed, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. Soul hugged her back for a few minuets, all the while thinking, debating if he should kiss her or not. He was leaning towards kissing her, her lips where right there and she was hugging him very tightly for a very long time, that must mean something, right?! They also could be dead tomorrow, he thought moodily as he tightened his grip on her ever so slightly before pulling back and staring into her eyes.

Her bright green eyes where windows to her soul. It was a bright, happy, pure, innocent soul, the complete opposite to his. He reached his hand up to her face and cupped her check for a moment before reaching around her head and untying her red bandana as well before dropping it to the floor. Maka looked at him questioningly but before she could comment his lips where on hers, soft and gentle but tinted with desperation. She was frozen at first, stiffening in his arms but she quickly relaxed and she kissed him back, her arms wrapping around her neck and her fingers tangling in the fine hairs of his neck. She never wanted this to end, she thought as his tongue brushed her lips.


After what felt like hours, they pulled away, a small string of saliva still connecting then. Soul laughed once more and smiled but this time it was a hopeful laugh. His smile was returned by Maka, who held him tightly in her arms and stared into his eyes, hers displaying her soul and all her love for him. He knew his probably looked the same. He leaned down and chastely kissed her once more, this kiss was full of hope.

a heaven of abandoned stars (we can be ghosts now)

[the implications of eternity are never easy. carmilla x laura, angst, fluff. i still can’t figure out forever but this is close.]


a heaven of abandoned stars (we can be ghosts now)


meet me in the dust cloud/ as the towers tumble all around/ we can be ghosts now/ we don’t have to make a sound
—hiatus ft. shura, ‘we can be ghosts now’



You come home from Intro to Bio lecture one day in October to find Carmilla asleep, her back to the door, yellow pillow safely on your bed. You’re relieved, for a moment, because it’s becoming increasing harder to talk to her without noticing the set of her hands, the pout of her lips. 

Keep reading

A oneshot starring Lily Evans and James Potter in a modern day Muggle world. If it had a title it would be “i threw rocks at the wrong window but i’m a little drunk and my girlfriend just dumped me so hey do you want to hang out with me? au” as it was this post that inspired me. I hope you enjoy :)

She was standing on a patio built of stone, hard and cold under her bare feet, that seemed to extend itself as far as she could see. The air was chilly against her fair skin, a faint breeze causing her white summer dress to flow around her ever so slightly. She started walking - after all it was the only thing to do - but it seemed like no matter how many hours passed, how much distance from the starting point she accomplished, nothing around changed. It was like walking but standing still. Or it was until she saw it, all alone, not much further ahead. She started running towards it, curious. 

Keep reading

Love's a Triangle

Imagine confessing your feelings for Dean to you friend Sam, who in turn confesses that he feels that way about you.

Author’s Note: Reader requested Sam fic but it’s Sam POV which I don’t do too often. From the prompt you can tell it’s going to be pretty rough for Sam. There’s some cute fluff leading up to, but it was requested that the reader only like him as a friend, so it's mostly angst. Sam and the reader are old friends and she came to live at the bunker after she became a hunter. Warnings: angst, language, injury, generally sad stuff.

Song Inspiration: I’m Falling for You

First, read the Love’s a Triangle - Prologue here!

There was something extremely satisfying about being the first one up in the bunker. That sense of stillness and quiet wasn’t something I got to enjoy very often. When I passed Deans door I smiled at the soft snoring noise coming from inside. Yesterday’s hunt had been grueling. I tried not to think about the lives lost or the blood shed. At the end of it all, we did what needed to be done. It wasn’t a nine to five job but it had benefits. Besides, there wasn’t any other life for men like us, not any more. I continued down the hauntingly empty hallways of our makeshift ‘home’ till I reached the back door. While I was bent over to tie my shoe laces a hand on my back made my heart skip a beat.

“Someone’s up extra early.” I immediately recognized the voice and didn’t bother straitening up. Two female legs stood in my peripherals. It wasn’t like her to be up before Dean, and especially not me.

“Oh you’re one to talk.” I finished tightening my running shoes and turned around. Y/N was already dressed in tiny shorts and a nike tshirt, who’s sleeves had been cut off. Even in makeshift sportswear she didn’t look very athletic, just cute. At my statement she huffed and placed her hands on her hips in a failed attempt to seem taller.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Can I join you?” I knew she was referring to my morning jog but I was still surprised. She’d never shown any interest in running with me before.

“Since when do you run?” I raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall. “Or do anything athletic for that matter?” I should have expected the small fist that collided with my shoulder. I pretended to be wounded and scowled. Y/N was a good friend, one that I didn’t hesitate to tease. It wasn’t very often that I was the one poking fun, but Dean was still asleep.

“For your information, Sam, I was on the track team at Stanford. Don’t you remember?” It had been so long since Y/N had moved in with us, sometimes I forgot she wasn’t just another hunter. I nodded and got lost in my memories for a moment. She must have done the same because neither of us spoke.

After the pause I tossed a water bottle from behind me in her direction, which she caught in one swift movement. “Tag along, If you think you can keep up.”


I wasn’t used to having company in the mornings like this. Dean hated the idea of running unless something was hot on his heels, but I enjoyed it. After being cooped up in the Impala for hours and returning home to sit in a library, fresh air seemed like a precious commodity. Also, there was something 'normal’ about being able to just go outside and run around the block. I got to smile at other people I saw, them not even knowing that I would spend the rest of my day slicing the heads off vampires and exorcizing demons. It gave me a temporary sense that my life wasn’t completely unnatural. Y/N’s shorter legs meant that she was putting in twice the effort to stay by my side, but she didn’t let it show. She did a good job of pretending she wasn’t panting and sweating already. I grinned and slowed my pace a little, careful not to betray the act of sympathy.

“I can see why you do this, it’s gorgeous out here.” Her sentence was chopped into several sections and peppered with deep breaths. I looked out over the scenery she was referring to, but my eyes got stuck on her instead. I watched her lips fall into a little circle as she panted, the sheen of moisture on her skin reflecting the bright sunlight. She was so undeniably beautiful, even now. “What are you staring at Winchester? Are you surprised I haven’t dropped dead yet?” She smiled wide and wiped a hand across her forehead. She was always issuing a challenge, always pushing me to tease her back.

“Nah, just impressed that you still have it. You remember us running together sometimes at Stanford? That’s how I met you.” She let out a wheezy laugh and nodded.

“Of course. Every morning I saw you pass my dorm and I got this stupid idea that some day I was going to be able to run faster than you.” Our conversation was labored, but we both understood each other. I could tell that Y/N needed a break, although he’d never admit it. I slowed down to a walk and stopped to lean against a tree as if it was something I was used to doing. My partner didn’t argue with the chance to bend over and force oxygen into her lungs. By now her hair was damp with perspiration. “6 years later and you still have me beat.” She winked and took several needy gulps from the water bottle before extending it in my direction. I gladly accepted and tried not to stare at the way her lips glistened with stray droplets as she panted.

“I have an advantage. Besides, you’re a sprinter not an endurance runner. Bet you’d blow me away in a short race.” She tilted her head in contemplation before straightening up and bouncing on her heels. “You know what, I’ll take you up on that bet.” She was the first one to take off, her legs pounding in the direction of the path we had been following.


It took me less than a second to register her action and throw myself into a full bore run after her. I could feel the space between us closing. I almost considered backing off to give her more of a head start when she suddenly faltered and almost tripped into my path. In what felt like slow motion I saw her catch her toe on a rock and overcorrect, sending her into an inevitable fall. I swerved and stopped as quickly as I could, but she was already on hands and knees in the dirt.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Y/N muttered curses under her breath and brushed the gravel from her palms.

“Dammit, I would have had that…” Something about the way her hair was tousled around her scowling face made me stifle a laugh. She frowned and tried to get up off the path, ignoring the hand I offered. “Yeah, real funny. Guess I shouldn’t have been so eager to-” As she rose up on her feet she yelped and one leg immediately went limp. I rushed forward to keep her from crumpling the the ground again.

“What’s wrong?” I hooked one of my arms under hers to support her weight and examine her leg. She grit her teeth and tried to wave me away.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just my ankle.” She passively pushed my chest back and stepped down with her foot again. This time she winced even harder and gripped the front of my shirt instinctively. “Shit!” She clearly wasn’t going to be walking on it anytime soon. I placed her arm around my shoulder as I bent to examine the sprain. I could tell that Y/N’s sighs were more frustration than pain. “Of course, all of the dangerous crap we do every day and this is how I break an ankle. Just my luck. Dean is going to laugh his ass off.” I ignored her ranting and returned to my position as her support. Because of our height difference I had to bend slightly to permit her leaning on my arm, and she had to grasp at my side for purchase. Her hands slid down my abdomen as she struggled to maintain balance.

“I don’t think it’s broken, just a bad sprain. You’re going to have to get on my back though.” Her eyes widened and she wrinkled her face in distain.

“Like a 7 year old? I’d probably get a nose bleed from the altitude.” I shook my head in a mute but wide smile. She was such a little brat. Without another word I placed one hand behind her back and the other swooped into the crook of her knees. The momentum and placement of my arms cause her body to fall limp into my embrace. “Sam!” She shrieked as I pulled her to my chest and began our trek back to the bunker. “Put me down!” Y/N’s voice was angry, but her mouth was stuck in a look of amused amazement. I chuckled when she looked down at the ground far beneath her and clutched at my shoulder.

“I don’t think so. This is the fastest way to get you back.” To be honest I didn’t need to hold her so close, but I wasn’t passing up an opportunity like this. She looked so small and delicate in my arms, like a bird that you long to touch but don’t dare startle. Behind all of my teasing there was this nagging desire to touch her hand, or brush the hair from her face when she was reading. There was an ever present magnetism that I found difficult to deny. Y/N wasn’t like other hunters. For me, she was a reminder of my old life. She was what little remainders from better days when I wasn’t fighting to survive or straining under the burdens of a never ending paranormal war. She understood me in ways that Dean never could. As much as I loved my brother, he had no idea what it was like to lose a normal career driven life. Y/N understood, hell she was even at the same college as I was before she became a hunter.

“This is so embarrassing…” The girl in my arms laid her head against my chest, partly in an attempt to hide the redness on her cheeks when other joggers passed us. “Dean’s going to make fun of me so much.” I tossed her a little bit, careful not to jostle the limp ankle hanging over my arm. She yelped and cling to my shirt even tighter. It felt good to have her embracing me with the strength I wished I could show her.

“Oh please, you don’t really care what he thinks do you? You two are always at each other’s throats. He’ll probably never let either one of us live this down.” As if my words flicked a switch in Y/N’s mind, she suddenly became sober-faced. She swallowed slowly and her eyes narrowed with apprehensive thought. “What is it? Does your ankle hurt more?” I stopped walking and searched her expression for any clue as to how I could help. If my hands weren’t busy holding her up I think I would have liked to run a finger across her tense jawline. She forced a smile and shook her head.

“No no, but I have to tell you something Sam. That’s why I came with you today."I felt a lump rising in my chest as I watched her wring her hands and stutter through an explanation. She was nervous about something, and that made me uneasy. She planned to come with me today for a reason other than just joining me? I wasn’t sure if I should be intrigued or disappointed.

"This is strange for me to say, because you’re my best friend and I know it’s weird to admit…” My mouth went completely dry. First my heart was beating faster at her calling me her best friend, and then it nearly stopped when I realized where this was going. She was anxious because she had to confess something about us? About how she felt for me? I was completely still now, the cradle of my arms completely ridged around her soft body. My mind raced with possibilities and I tried to block out the outlandish hopes that forced their way into my head. What if…

“And I don’t want you to think of me differently.” What if she felt the same way as I did for her? What if she liked being in my arms like this, and she’d like to do it again… when her ankle wasn’t sprained. I held my breath in anticipation of what she would say next. If she didn’t end this suspense soon I think I would have been unable to keep my arms from shaking. She didn’t want me to think of her differently, but I already was and had been for a long time. After a deafening pause I almost interjected with my own confession, but she opened her lips again and spoke softly, her hand picking gently at the material of my shirt.

“I think I’m falling for Dean.”


Just like that I was shot through the heart. I felt the desire to fall to my knees in complete and utter disappointment. How could she say that? Couldn’t she feel the way my skin absolutely buzzed with desire for hers? A wounded noise forced it’s way out my throat and nostrils in defeated exhalation. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the way I avoided her stare and clenched my jaw. She withdrew the hand from my shirt, leaving me missing her touch. I felt as though it was the only thing keeping my heart from spilling out of my chest. Her nervous attempts to recant were almost immediate.

“Is that too weird? Because I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if Dean and I ever…” I stopped her, not because I disagreed with her, but because I couldn’t physically bear to hear another word.

I tried to keep my voice as flat and emotionless as possible, since there was no way I could fake the joy it should have carried. “No no, if you feel that way you should definitely go for it. I think he’d be thrilled.” We continued towards the bunker in silence, her body swaying in step with my heavy footfalls. The pathway we walked along didn’t seem lively or beautiful anymore. I no longer felt the desire to smile at runners that we crossed paths with, and instead rested the urge to glare as they studied the spectacle the two of us made. I could feel Y/N’s eyes on me the whole time and knew that she wasn’t satisfied with my passive response.

“Are you sure its okay?”

I wanted to scream that none of this was okay. That the thought of Dean being with her made me feel physically Ill. I looked down at my partner and drank in the way she furrowed her eyebrows and nervously bit at her bottom lip. She looked adorable and it made it even harder to take each step. Her eyes were wide with anticipation of my words and I knew then, even more than before, that she was so much more than just a best friend to me. I replayed our entire friendship in my mind, reveling in the laughter and lightheartedness we shared. I craved the joy she brought me, hell I needed it. If telling her how I really felt would cost all of that, then I didn’t think I could bear to lose it. But how much worse would it be hiding it from her, letting my secret eat me alive day after day? How long could I see her with Dean, knowing that I never told her what was on my heart? If there was one thing that I had leaned these past years, it was that secrets kill everything they touch. My parents were a testament to that. You may bring your secrets to the grave, but more often than not, your secrets are what get you there.

Our friendship was based on honesty. She deserved to know the truth, even if it might change everything. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my steps and voice steady. “Y/N I need to tell you something too.” The girl in my arms tensed at my words.

“I would never say this if I didn’t respect you more than anyone. ” I marched onwards towards the bunker without slowing down, afraid that if I stopped I would loose my nerve. There was no turning back now, not in any sense of the situation. I could feel Y/N fidgeted as much as my rigid arms would allow. She swallowed nervously and studied my conflicted features.

“While you were falling for Dean, and well, just falling in general…” She laughed and rolled her eyes at my attempt to be humorous in the face of rejection. It didn’t take long for me to utter my next sentence, that instantly stopped her laughter and left her mouth frozen open in shock.

“I was falling for you.


"I think I love you Y/N.” A great weight fell from my chest just in time for me to realize the gravity of what I had done. My best friend'a face went completely blank and I could feel her shrink back from my touch, although it enveloped her.

“Sam…” I could tell from her voice that it was only pity she felt. Another streak of pain ripped through my insides. I never should have said what I did, now she was uncomfortable in my arms, struggling to find the right words to respond to my confession.

“I love you as a friend, no my best friend… As a brother.” I could have put her down right there and vomited in the bushes we were passing. The churning revolt in my stomach was just more proof that my feelings for her were far beyond friendship.

“I’m sorry…” A small hand cupped my jaw, fingers barely resting against my skin. I was torn between pulling away from the affection and leaning into it. My eyes fell shut for a moment, utterly exhausted by the emotions between the two of us. It killed me to hear her feel so apologetic, and I could tell from her face that she was truly sorry. She looked as though she might cry. I squeezed the shoulder my one arm was gripping in the only reassurance I could offer.

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy for you Y/N. Really.” I could see the bunker in the distance now, but I had no interest in going inside. I wished this entire morning hadn’t happened, that I would wake up and still be in my bed.

“Sam, I don’t want this to change us. What you told me… Feeling the way I do for Dean, that’s second to our friendship.” The word friendship felt like an insult, not a compliment. I looked down at Y/N and could see how hurt she felt, probably as much as I did. We were close enough that we shared in our sorrows. I had to be strong, if only so that she wouldn’t feel as guilty. I gathered up my last bit of my energy and gave her the warmest smile I could muster.

“Of course. You’re not getting out of being my friend that easily.”


Dean must have seen me in the distance because he was out of the house and walking towards us quickly as we neared the bunker. His face was the picture of concern and his eyes locked on Y/N.

“What’s wrong?! What happened?” He was standing over her in a moment, wasting no time examining the girl between us. It was hard to believe that he once protested her coming to live here. When he found no blood on her clothing he looked up at me in question.

“She sprained her ankle while we were running.” Y/N grinned sheepishly and I could see her cheeks turning red under Deans gaze. It was good to see her smile again, even though my entire body felt pained by what I could see unfolding before me. Dean laughed and shook his head. One of his fingers flicked her nose playfully.

“What a stupid kid. Haven’t I told you there’s nothing good about jogging?” I took my opportunity to lean forward and press Y/N into his arms. I passed her off to my brother without incident.

“Here, can you take her up to her bedroom? I’m going to go find the ace wrap and ice packs.” Dean knew as well as I did that he was just as equip to find them himself, but he shrugged off the request. Without another word I turned and headed towards the house. I could hear the two behind me laughing together as I neared the steps.

“Sam!” A voice calling out stopped me in my tracks. I think that she always have that complete power over me. I looked back one last time. Y/N was smiling at me, Deans arms gripping her tightly to his chest like I had to mine. It was what she wanted, so I resolved to want it as well. I had bourn the weight of more than most, what would one more heartbreak be? Her eyes looked sadder than they should have been as she searched mine and spoke loudly across the space between us.

“Thank you.”

anonymous asked:

what do you think bts would like their gf to dress like

Keep in mind that this is not always the best representation for what BTS would like. This is based on my own opinion and some things that the boys say. There are always exceptions to the rule so don’t ever change because of someone else! cr: gifs not mine!



He would enjoy the “lazy look.” The kind of girl that likes white tshirts, ripped jeans, Converse/Vans, etc. He would want his gf to always be comfortable and wear stuff that compliments her shape and makes her feel confident.


Since he is Bangtan’s resident Swag Leader his girlfriend should dress pretty cool as well. He is very passionate about music and a girl that shares that passion would be very attractive to him. She should wear A LOT OF BLACK, snapbacks, sunglasses, plaids, oversized band shirts, basically anything that screams “hiphop.” That way, you guys can match and look like the most bad ass couple out there.


Jin is a pretty clean cut, classic kind of guy and would appreciate a classic lady. Putting on clothes that show her figure without revealing it entirely would get his attention. She should wear feminine pieces like skirts, collared shirts, the occasional dress, simple statement jewelry, and things along that line.


He would definitely have his preferences but overall I don’t think he’d care that much. As long as his girlfriend looks and feels good, he wouldn’t care what you wore. BUT he would most prefer someone who dresses cute. However “cute” can be defined a number of ways. She could dress anything from girly or more boyish, classy or street, form fitting or oversized. Basically, as long as she is wearing it, he’d love it.


We all know Jimin prefers the cute type but (let’s not kid ourselves) he would also enjoy sexy. He would like his girl to dress cute and adorable with a hint of maturity. Showing off your natural curves—and showing some skin every once in a while— would do a number on him. Jimin’s girlfriend should wear plaid shirts, jean shorts, dresses, plain tshirts, beanies, and leggings.


Taehyung wouldn’t be too picky about looks. Any style that is entirely and uniquely her’s would satisfy him. Since he’s quite the character himself, he’d want his girlfriend to portray her own personality through her wardrobe. As long as what she wears makes her happy, he would be happy.


Out of all seven, I see Jungkook as being the most picky. He’s pretty well dressed himself and he would want his girlfriend to dress trendy and stylish while maintaining her own sense of design. Since he’s into the noonas, someone who can dress a bit more mature would suit him very well. Jungkook has also said before he likes a girl with nice legs so she should wear something like tight jeans, shorts, or leggings. She should also wear high tops, leather jackets, a lot of rings (edgy jewelry). She should have the “bad girl” vibe without looking too scary (because I’m pretty sure Jungkook is scared of females).


Admin Taeren

anonymous asked:

When do you know that you should marry to that person ? I mean yeah love.. But how can you know that she's the one ...

So there is this part in our wedding vows that I absolutely love, it says, “I ask you to be no other than yourself, loving what I know of you and trusting what I have yet to see.”

Of course if you love her, but also if your gut instinct drives you to her, if you’re just as awestruck seeing her in a tshirt as when she’s dressed up, if she intrigues you more with every passing day, if you would literally do anything just to make her smile, and if you sincerely would never do anything to hurt or disrespect her, if you plan on being loyal forever emotionally and physically, if the thought of seeing her makes you smile so big you almost laugh, if you want the best for her and plan on inspiring her and cheering her on to be the very best that she wants to be, if she makes you feel more intensely, and if you trust that whatever your life as one brings, whatever the two of you become both individually and together, that all of these things and more will only grow increasingly stronger…..then she just might be the one

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten Chapter 9

AKA the chapter that gave me such issues and I’m so happy to have it out of my life. Also the longest chapter yet!

Start from the beginning here.


“Henry!” Regina calls out, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes in frustration. “Henry, can you go and write down ‘nail polish remover’ on the grocery list for me please?”

The only response from her son is the clanking of swords and vaguely medieval music from whatever video game has captured his fancy today. “Henry!”

No answer. She sighs irritably, reaching for the nearly-empty bottle of nail polish remover and turning it upside down, desperate to get the last few drops out onto the tissue in her hand. Her nails are a smeared mess of red, half of them with the polish beginning to chip off and the other half having gotten a dose of what little remover she had to work with. The result is that her toes, which before had looked at least halfway acceptable for going out (was he even really going to notice her feet, anyway?) now resemble a Jackson Pollack done by a six-year-old running out of paint. The new bottle of deep purple nail polish that she’d purchased for the occasion—a perfect match to her dress, she had made sure of that—stands on the counter, waiting to be used, but at this point Regina isn’t sure if it’s going to be possible.

“Henry!” she called again, quickly losing her temper.

“Nail polish, got it!” he yelled back, sounding distracted.

“Nail polish remover.”

“Same thing.”

“No it’s not…” Regina mumbles, trying to wipe more red polish off her nails. She curses under her breath as she scrubs frantically, wondering how much of the red she’ll have to take off before she covers the rest up with the purple. At this point, she figures it might be a lost cause—the bottle is nearly empty now, but at the same time, she can’t go out looking like this. Her feet look ridiculous.

“He’s never even going to look at your feet anyway!” Henry hollers up to her from the living room, reading her mind.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s the entire look that matters. And I’ll know, Henry. How am I supposed to enjoy my date if all I can think about is that my toenails look like I let Roland paint them?”

She hears him pause the game. “Is that kind of thing really what girls think about?” He sounds incredulous.

Keep reading