i should let her run everything

“Let the hate go.” he said. “Let it all—go. The burdens that you’ve been keeping inside your heart. The darkness that surrounds it. Please do not keep that baggage with you forever. I know, it’s the hardest thing to do, but how will you be able to know if it’s worth it, if you wouldn’t even want to give it a try? This time, listen to your heart carefully. Close your eyes and let it flow. Let the feelings run through. Darling please remember, that we aren’t living in the past. You aren’t in the same position as you were ten years ago. This is the present. This is what you should be thinking of .” he held her hand tightly and said, “I am not him. And he was not me. And just because I am asking you to forgive him, that doesn’t mean that I am also asking you to forget everything he did. I am just asking you not to let him ruin everything we have right now. Because I love you. And I can never afford to lose you. Please darling, not you”.
—  ma.c.a // Past and Differences


Where you’re his ex-girlfriend and you see his new girlfriend wearing your t-shirt

Masterlist linked in bio

If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been getting ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never-ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her feel sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used—to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to somebody truly broken hearted.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering they live with an irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by the image of a woman whose heart failed to mend.

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with a very well rehearsed “I’ve been okay” didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved no reassurance.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to his home in London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too—much more beautiful than Y/n wanted her to be, as selfish and sadistic as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too—that with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be their overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. She should have never let her trust run that deep. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. 

Y/n never got over him. She didn’t know how to, especially after being with each other for so long. They were soulmates—they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found their way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand—a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comforting as it intended to be, however she couldn’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so.

It’s all pity. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks, a hint of worry in her eyes. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her lips as she shakes her head.

A part of her feels guilty for making her best friend go through all of this. The constant worrying, the tentativeness whenever she spoke, the constant need to somehow protect Y/n—it makes her feel like an unwanted obligation.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when we get back, but we’ll need to stop at the grocery store before we head off. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

Gabby smiles softly. “We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she doesn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went—mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more perfect in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.


It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heartfelt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.


My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.

He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, we gotta get goi—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there’s no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

good bmc bootleg bits I can't stop thinking about

• Jeremy’s fuckin Aveeno ™ bottle and tissue box
• just… the kids on the bus… how they’re all doing their own thing… and how they all sway from one side to another like they’re on an actual bus
• literally everything Christine does during More Than Survive I never expected her to be so extra
• Michael literally never sitting still for once in his life
• how during the second chorus everyone’s kinda bouncing in their seats but then at “my Mac book pro hard drive” they all just JAM OUT and honestly same
• Jer kinda bouncing along to Michael’s beat as he dances to Bob Marley
• Michael’s face at the Boyf riends backpacks
• the lil push he gives Jeremy when he walks toward the play poster
• also Jer’s voice crack during “I sign my name”
• how everyone nicely frames the play poster before Rich breaks formation just to yell “GAY”
• Mike gently papping Jer’s face right before he runs into play practice
• “I’m kidding!” “Well, I’m Jeremy!”
• Christine jumping over everything and Jeremy just sorta hunched over watching her like “holy fuck she’s so cute she should not be allowed to be this cute”
• MR REYES HUGGING CHRISTINE TO HIS CHEST AT “the man is dead, let it go”
• Jake’s little arm pump at “victory dance”
• every single fucking movement Richard Goranski makes during The Squip Song
• the people in the background singing the “ah"s…. spoopy
• Rich slapping himself after he accidentally lets his lisp slip out
• just. Rich’s hips.
• also his friendship with Brooke that u can see in the background in a few scenes
• how the cushions for Two Player Game just YEET out of nowhere
• the completely unnecessary amount of touching going on during Two Player Game
• how Jeremy and Michael just work so well together and keep switching controllers
• "will you be too cool for m – …… video games?”
• how the scary stock boy does the same spooky hand movements that Rich did
• Michael shrugging at “I don’t know why”
• Jeremy’s totally overexaggerated pill swallowing
• the lady with the hat who randomly walked thru the scene?? Who Was She
• Jeremy deliberately running into Jake what a shit
• his convulsions during The Squip Enters?? he’s in so much pain help him
• people recording Jeremy highkey dying on the floor and Christine getting all worried (and also hitting Jake for calling him a freak)
• how the Squip just ascends the stairs and you can kinda see him in the darkness before he starts speaking and he takes a power stance gripping the railing and speaking super authoritatively
• there’s so much more but fuck I can’t stop thinking bout these kids

anonymous asked:

Yandere Momo and her reaction to sleeping in the same bed as her female crush during a sleepover pretty please?

Momo is like,,, the best. Someone could literally request a very detailed description of her eyelashes and I would enthusiastically write every word.  

Momo’s house was, undoubtedly, the nicest thing any of you would ever see. The size of her room, fully stocked supplies of sweets and other junk foods, and her extensive collection of flat-screen TVs made it the perfect place for sleepovers, especially with the number of girls in 1-A. So, the moment Momo’s parents left town, a sleepover was planned and executed with admirable precision.

Although having time to bond with the other girls was nice, it wasn’t going to be the highlight of her night. Everyone knew you fell asleep easily, and with the help of some ‘specially ordered’ tea, you were soundly asleep and nuzzling into her chest by the end of the first horror movie. It was already late, so the other girl’s didn’t bat an eye. Eventually, their attention was drawn away by a marshmallow eating contest between Mina and Asui, so they reluctantly left you two alone in her room. Jiro offered to help move you, and it took most of Momo’s self-control not to growl. Instead, she smiled sweetly, saying she would stay so that you wouldn’t be confused when you woke up. She’s just that nice.

You two were left alone, your unconscious, vulnerable form holding on tightly to hers. She smiled down at you, twirling a strand on your hair around her finger. Seeing you like this was heaven for her. You were willingly in her arms, not out of necessity or panic. Everything was calm, with no one trying to take you away from her, no villains trying to separate your two. It was just you and her, as it should be.

She let out a sigh. When she was older and you realized how badly you needed her, it would be like this all the time! You would let her take care of you, and everything would be perfect. All she had to do was give it some time, make sure you stayed safe, and you two would come out of it all together.

Feeling cold hands run over your skin, you stirred, immediately putting things together and forcing yourself to wake up. You were embarrassed, to say the least. How could someone just pass out on one of their friends?! You had to hold back your stutters as you rolled to the side, sitting up next to her. “Sorry about that…” You mumbled, grogginess clear in your voice. Something soft pressed against your forehead, a motherly gesture that instantly made you relax.

“It’s alright, the others are downstairs.” Her voice never failed to comfort you. Momo took your hand, starting to stand up. “Why don’t we join them?”

You nodded, smiling brightly back. “Of course.”

ohsotiny  asked:

Hi! For the Drabble challenge can I request 66 Itachi/Sakura or Shisui/Sakura "How could I ever forget about you?" If it's not too much trouble please?

fun fact, I thought the: “If it’s not too much trouble please” was part of the request. then I noticed it wasn’t, but I enjoyed the sass too much.

“Are you sure your family is alright with us coming?” Sakura asked, adjusting the collar of her dress.

“Sasuke said it’s fine!” Naruto replied, bowtie askew.

Sakura glanced out the window, taking in the multiple luxury vehicles. “He also said this was a small family event,” she said as she reached forward to adjust Naruto’s bowtie.

“It is a small family event,” Sasuke replied, running a hand through his hair.

Sakura snorted, shaking her head as she climbed out of the car. “I’m wearing Converse. They’re my nice Converse, but they’re Converse nonetheless.”

“Mom won’t mind,” Sasuke said, shoulders slouched. “She’ll be haranguing me about my hair.”

“I’m letting you know now,” Sakura said, “if any of your relatives comment on it, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “I already apologized for anything and everything Naruto does. You kicking someone in the shins should fly under the radar.”

Sakura sighed, following Sasuke up the immense staircase into the manor. “I warned you.”

They stepped into the swarm of socialites and Sakura immediately moved toward the outskirts as Uchiha flocked upon Sasuke. She smirked as Naruto was caught up in the midst. The last she saw of him was betrayed blue eyes as she turned her back and headed to the entire reason she was here:

The horderves.

She prowled the appetizer table, ignoring eye contact with the strangers around her as piled multiple plates with food.

“Ah, Sakura, it’s good to see you.”

Sakura bit her tongue to keep from cursing as she turned to the soft-spoken speaker, meeting Itachi’s warm gaze.

“Itachi, what a surprise,” she said drily. “I’m impressed, you found me in under five minutes. Must be a new record.”

“Naruto ratted you out,” he said, smiling.

“That bastard.” Her gaze went to his expectant companion. “Shisui. It’s been a while.” Shisui narrowed his eyes, trying to place her. “Seems you don’t remember me.”

“How could I ever forget about you?” Shisui asked, pasting on a friendly smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble, please do,” Sakura said.

He ducked his head, hiding his grin. His eyes brightened with glee as he took in her shoes. “Good taste.”

Everyone turned as Shisui released a high-pitched shriek. He jumped on one leg as Sakura crossed her arms, glaring over in Sasuke’s direction.

“I told you!” she shouted.

“You always manage to make these events interesting,” Itachi murmured with a mischievous grin, offering her a glass of champagne.

I was six and you were eight

Yes, I already know that Harry was already famous when he was seventeen. I purposely changed the real timeline.

I was six and you were eight. You were the new kid in town, my new next door neighbor. When we first met you took my toy and pushed me to the ground. 

I was six and you were eight, and I didn’t like you very much. 

I was ten and you were twelve. Our moms made you walk me to school every morning. It seemed like I annoyed you with everything I did. I thought you couldn’t stand me.

I was fourteen and you were sixteen. My first date didn’t show up. You arrived in your car to find me crying in my brand new dress. I expected you to make fun of me for being so stupid and naive, but instead you held me as I cried against your chest.

I was fifteen and you were seventeen. You started writing songs and I was always the first to hear them. You told me you were gonna be famous and promised me that you wouldn’t forget about me.

I was fifteen and you were seventeen. You were dating another girl and it bothered me more than it should have. You two did not last more than three months. But seeing you with her changed something inside of me. And I’ve never been the same since.

I was sixteen and you were eighteen. We got drunk in my room, hiding from our parents. Our little secret kingdom, just me and you. You kissed my face as we were both wasted. For the first time, I had enough courage to tell you I loved you. To my surprise, you said you did too. We kissed for the first time that night. Now I still can’t forget the taste of your lips.

I was eighteen and you were twenty. You were touring the world and we drifted apart. I only saw you on magazine covers. We were both seeing other people. The difference was I had to hear all about your relationships, from every media outlet there was. You seemed happier with your new life. I thought I had become a distant memory.

I was nineteen when you called me again. You just broke up and you were exhausted. Being famous had drained you dry. You said you missed me so much and you wanted to come home. It was the first time I heard you cry. We got back in touch.

I was nineteen and you were twenty one. We were cuddling in your bed when you told me you wanted to kiss me. I joked that you only kissed me when you were drunk. You told me it was not true and then kissed me on the lips. We made love that night. I remember thinking I could never love someone as much as I loved you.

I was twenty and you were twenty two. It was us against the world. People would try anything to tear us apart. They would try anything to break me, hurt me so I would leave you. Rumors about you with another girl were spread around. We had a big fight, and I watched you leave. But eventually, you came back. You kissed me and said you didn’t want to lose me.

I was twenty two and you were twenty four. Everything started to overwhelm us. Love should have been enough but it didn’t help me nor you. I loved you just as much as I did many years ago. I still had to let you go. We made love one last time. When I woke up you were already gone. This time you never came back.

I’m now twenty eight and you are thirty. We run into each other in a coffee shop. I’m on my way to work and you’re here with your wife, who’s waiting in the car for you to buy her favorite cappuccino. You say you’re so happy to see me and tell me you just got back from your honey moon, which I already know because I still read all the news about you. You ask about my life and I tell you I‘m doing well and that I’ve been seeing a guy for a couple of weeks now. 

You certainly look older than the last time I saw you in person, but time had done you well. You may have changed a lot but you still feel like you to me. Still the same boy who stole my toys when I was six, the same boy who let me cry on his shirt the first time I got my heart broken, the man who told me he would love me as long as he lived, the one and only love of my life. Before you leave we share a hug. And the moment we part away, I almost audibly beg you to stay, but I know I can’t, not anymore. I watch you walk back to the car to the woman you’ll spend the rest of your life with as I wonder to myself, if somewhere in your heart there’s still a place, a small drawer, for me, for us, for what we were and could’ve been. 

I’m twenty eight and you’re thirty. And I’m not sure if you’ll ever know this, but I still love you with every fiber of my heart.

Desperately, truly, hopelessly.


Part 2

Red Lyrium

Wait…. Guys…. We all know how distructive/corrosive/toxic red lyrium is, right? Well, I just kind of realized something…

in the boss fight vs Meredith there’s the part where Hawke gets impaled by her sword(just like the Arishok. Makes me think enemies have a kink for making Hawke a shishkabob) I think Hawke’s companions can get stabbed too? But as it happened for me, my curious mage ass hurried over to hear the dialogue better and to see if she was dying but then yeah, not my brightest idea. Anyways, has anyone ever thought about what that would do? Hawke (or a companion?) just got a load of raw powerful red lyrium INSIDE THEM. It’s in their bloodstream. The idol was affecting people just by them being remotely near it, and in Inquisition it’s obvious how deadly the stuff can be

can you imagine Hawke. Hawke, who escaped the Blight just barely. Hawke, who killed the Arishok. Hawke, who lost their family violently. Hawke, who rose up against the odds. Hawke, who became a Champion, only to fall and find themselves in a war, killing two major enemies and watching the city crumble and fall to ashes. Hawke, who (depending on your playthrough) helped the Inquisition but watched a dear friend perish in the Fade. Hawke, a person who has been through so much, suddenly falling sick, and falling to this agonizing corruption, their remaining family, their friends, their lover, watching as they slowly become worse and worse and worse, succumbing to the accursed red venom, fighting it until their very last breath

Try not to think about Varric’s worst nightmare come true. After watching Hawke almost die at Adamant, seeing them dying of the thing that plagues his nightmares. Don’t imagine him weeping upon seeing the sickly look of Hawke’s gaunt face and the pulsing red beneath their skin that’s sucking the very life from them, and their feeble, forced smile and rasped jokes as they try in vain to cheer him up.

Don’t imagine Carver, face scrunching up in anger. Anger at himself. Anger at Hawke. They weren’t allowed to die on him like this. Not now. Not ever. Don’t imagine the way he snaps at Hawke’s reassurances, the way he snarls at anyone who tries comforting him. Don’t imagine the way he runs away and cries in an isolated area, screaming at the skies and at the Maker for letting this happen.

Don’t think about Bethany falling apart and scouring through books and spells, trying everything in her power to fix this, to save her sibling. Don’t think about Hawke weakly attempting Carver’s jig to cheer her up, only to end up collapsing and coughing up blood as she cradles them in her arms and sobs.

some less discussed hdm moments/elements/plots i’m super pumped to see in the tv show:

  • lyra being a little shit in jordan - lyra getting drunk off her ass, lyra being a little shit to the scholars, lyra fucking around in the catacombs only to have headless ghosts haunt her at night. give me my little shit of a child lyra
  • will parry and his cat moxie straight up killing a man
  • marisa coulter letting lord boreal believe she’s charmed by him and totally into him, then straight up poisoning him and leaving him in a tent to die when he stops being useful to her
  • marisa coulter leading an army of spectres?? marisa coulter being terrifying as fuck????
  • but then: marisa coulter in the cave with lyra; marisa, despite all of asriel’s caution, charming him and deceiving him and then escaping asriel’s captivity to spy for him
  • everything that marisa does between escaping asriel and then him saving her from the exploding power station tbh
  • then marisa lying with all her being to motherfucking right hand of god, ruler of heaven metatron??? marisa playing him???
  • people talk a lot about marisa in the golden compass but seriously. marisa in the amber spyglass. she’s terrifying and spectacular and i love her
  • anyway
  • mary motherfucking malone
  • mary being dragged into this weird world of parallel universes and angels and shit and being all “fuck it, i’m too tired to try and doubt this shit, i’ll just go with it”
  • cynic mary having this childlike excitement and wonder for all the things she encounters, yet still being scientific and analytical about it
  • mary and the mulefa. mary and atal
  • the mulefa!!!!! give me my alien elephants on wheels children who are so pure and good!!!!!! the real angels of this story tbh
  • okay now this is really niche but: ama, the himalayan girl who helped will wake up lyra in the cave? she’s pure and fierce and brave, i love that little girl
  • gallivespians. all gallivespians. then also tialys and salamakia in particular. hand-sized people who ride giant dragonflies and can kill you with a stab of their ankle spurs and take no shit from no one. how fucking metal is that
  • the knife breaking, the reforging of the knife, that’s some good intense shit
  • the world of the dead. will and lyra in the world of the dead. it’s gonna be fucked up. just fuck me up i’m ready
  • i’m gonna stop but this is still just a partial list really
  • no but listen???
  • this whole trilogy, this whole (multi) universe, it’s so fucking reach and beautiful and detailed and poetic and overwhelming and flowing with iconic moments and things that i love so dearly
  • fuck the daemons hype i’m dying to see all the other details, literally everything else
  • and with the team being so keen to stick to the source material?? i’m gonna die and i’m gonna love it

anonymous asked:

32 + 86 let’s see what you make of that 😊

32. Pregnancy Fic

86. “I didn’t mean to turn you on.”

I re-worded the prompt just the teensiest bit anon! Hope that’s ok!!

Her body looks like….it’s melting. Like wax running from a candle flame. Everything is warped and sagging— pear shaped. Her breasts, her belly, she can swear she’s grown an extra chin..or two. 38 weeks and she thinks, ‘I should be grateful’. Blessed art thou… but right now the bathroom mirror is just making her feel panicked and out of control. She’s giving herself over to the process. But it’s a long, terrifying, exhausting process. She hears a choked snort muffled behind the door, and is instantly livid, envious of the deep, unencumbered sleep the man on the couch is experiencing. When was the last time her belly hadn’t needed its own pillow? What would it feel like to slide into blue jeans with no elastic over her hips again? Will she ever see her hips again? What she wouldn’t give to see a B cup. She’s way more than a handful now, and she doesn’t just mean her cup size. Her thoughts and emotions are all in extreme. Laughter is manic, tears are uninvited. Speaking of which, a splash of cold water had better shock her back into stasis and tame this blotchy skin. Christ he’s clingy when he thinks she’s been crying. Knows she’s been crying. Fuck, how does he always know. And God it’s good, but it’s excessive. She’s constantly over stimulated and undertouched all at the same time. It’s maddening. The running tap muffles the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. When she looks up from her towel, he’s there, positivity ogling her naked form and…absently? Intentionally? Grazing his crotch or maybe scratching his balls or whatever it is men seem to do upon waking. He blinks sleepily, a lecherous smile spreading across his handsome face. “Damn you look good.”

Fuck you, Asshole. Fuck your still-flat stomach and your inverted belly button and your body hair that grows exactly where it’s supposed to. Don’t patronize me.

“I’m not here to turn you on, Mulder.” And that shocks him a bit, from dopey admiration to full on damage control mode.

“Hey,” he holds up both hands in surrender, “Hey. I’m sorry—Hey— Look at me.” And she realizes she’s been burning a hole into the tile floor with murderous intent. When she does look up, he’s behind her in the mirror, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “I misspoke. Ok? Look at you. You’re a miracle Scully. And you do look good. You look beautiful. You are beautiful,” That voice. That reverent, sleep addled voice, the one that would slip into her ear, warm and humid, patiently coaxing an illusive orgasm from deep within her prefrontal cortex to sharp completion between her legs. God she misses sex. She can physically feel the tension leave her shoulders when he lowers his lips to kiss her collarbone. The sensation spreads down her arms and through her torso, blanketing her frustration. She finds herself leaning into his solid presence.

*I need Something to put my back up against.*

He’s gone quiet and still, save his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her upper arms, being careful, internally weighing and choosing the right words to say. She begins to feel bratty and foolish, then remorseful. “Listen to me,” He tells the woman in the mirror, now stern, “my monkey brain looks at you right now and wants to piss on a tree and pound my chest and maybe pound…well…other things…” She grins at his reflection despite herself, he grins back and then nips at her neck promisingly, “But thankfully… hopefully, I’ve evolved a bit. You’re body, your mind is doing this thing. This thing that I can’t do and this weight, “ she shoots him a warning glance, “Sorry—this burden that I cant bear for you and I’m just grateful and humbled, and—it’s always been that way with you, for me, Scully. You outmatch me at every turn and I’m unabashedly turned on by it.” He shrugs, exposed by his rambling but resolute, and then burrows his face in the side of her neck, worshipful. And suddenly her reflection changes from helpless to sovereign, full to bursting, literally, with capability, and the kind of pride that only comes from great sacrifice. He leaves her momentarily to fetch her robe from the bathroom door and eases her into it. It’s too stuffy and steamy and sticky in this room to want it right now but he’s trying. “Hey Mulder?”


He’s smoothing the sleeves down her arms and they need to relocate because she’s starting to sweat. She decides to throw him a bone, “What did you do with the rest of your chicken Parmesan from Maggianos?”

He grins, delighted. “Funny you should ask,” and proceeds to usher her into the hallway. The relief of the air conditioning is next to nirvana, so she’s tolerant as he pats her bottom, “go slap on some of that sexy maternity underwear Scully, I’ll pop it in the microwave.” She catches him by the front of his T-shirt and sucks his bottom lip between her teeth for a nibble.

“Pushing it there, Casanova, you’re pushing it.”

Hands to yourself. | MYG.

Originally posted by breadgenie


Dad!Yoongi. That’s about it.

Yoongi and yourself find that most of your alone time happens when your four— almost five, year old daughter is taking her daily nap. Especially after practically long day at preschool. Luckily, she’s just as sleepy as her father, so you two never have to worry about her naps interfering with her sleep at night, but that’s beside the point.

You’re currently situated on top of Yoongi’s slender thighs, while his deft fingers tickle your sides so quickly you can barely breathe. While you’re happy that he’s as smitten with you as ever, you’re not sure how much more you can take. You place a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back against the squishy coushions of the couch.

“Stop it!” You squeal as he advances again, praying that you don’t wake up your daughter and shoving him once more.

His digits finally stop moving and his hands get a good grip on you, right under your ribs. He leans forward, pressing delicate kisses along your jawline with pouty lips, “You never let me have my fun.”

“Because it’s always at my expense.” You hum in response before tilting your head downwards to give him a gentle peck.

“That’s what makes it fun.” Yoongi drawls against your lips, at that you pull away. Giving him a solid eye roll. He opens his mouth again, “Anyway, lately I’ve been thinking—“

“That’s never good.”

“Let me finish,” He whines, squeezing your sides, “I think we should have another baby.”

You nearly choke on your saliva, “Yoongi. We can barely handle Yoori!”

“I know, but I miss when she was tiny. When I could hold her with just one arm, and I had to do everything and anything for her.” Your husband mumbles, hiding his face in your shoulder, “She filled her sippy-cup on her own the other day and I almost cried, babe. That’s supposed to be my job.”

“You’re such a softie.” You run a hand through his hair, delicately playing with with the auburn strands. You sigh, “If that’s really what you want… I guess we can try.”

Yoongi lifts his head. Giving you a huge smile, gums and all, with wonder in his eyes, “Really?”

You hum, nodding before placing a sweet kiss on his forehead. He seems to have other plans, though; he tilts his head so you capture his lips, wrapping his arms around your middle so you’re pressed against his chest. The once innocent kiss becomes more heated as the seconds blur by, and when you break it your lips are swollen in the most enticing way. Causing Yoongi to stare at them.

“Guess you wanted to get started right now?” You breathe. He only chuckles then ducks his head to sponge kisses along your neck, changing the way you’re positioned slightly.

Just as he shoves you down onto the couch with a playful amount of force, the padding of little feet running towards the two of you rings in your ears. When you look up, your daughter is staring at her father who has completely removed himself from you in record time and pulling a face. Your heart swells when she folds her arms over her chest; she’s the spitting image of Yoongi, with her puppy dog eyes and jutted bottom lip. Her dark hair is still mussed up from what must have been one hell of a nap.

“What’s wrong, bub?” You ask Yoori, scooting away from Yoongi a bit more and sitting up so she can climb into your lap like she always does, “Bad dream?”


The little one’s tone makes you jump, as well as furrow your eyesbrows. Yoongi’s hand reaches out to pinch one of Yoori’s squishy cheeks, but when a small, chubby hand wraps around not one, but two of his slender fingers, he stops.


“You shouldn’t push mommy!” Yoori belts, letting go of his hand to wrap her arms around your neck protectively, still sending him a disapproving glare, “You’re supposed to keep your hands to yourself.”

You can vividly remember Yoongi and yourself stressing that one, golden rule to Yoori the month before she entered pre-k. She can clearly have quite a temper at times, and the last thing you needed was her pushing around her peers. Now it’s come back to mock both of you.

You can’t blame her, though. She’s never seen Yoongi and yourself mess around in such a way. Speaking of Yoongi, he looks like he could cry. And now you actually believe his sippy-cup predicament from the other day. It seems he’s at a loss for words.

You shake your head, “Yoori, baby; daddy and I we’re only playing around, like when you and uncle Googie wrestle.”

Yoori’s expression goes from angered to confused in an instant. You and Yoongi both laugh, watching her in pure amazement. The question of how you two managed to create such a perfect human floating around in your minds. She finally allows him to take her little face in his hands, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I would never hurt mommy, ever.” He whispers softly.

The four year-old nods before clambering off of your lap to hop into her father’s instead, quickly clinging to him and loudly exclaiming, “I’m sorry, daddy!”

“It’s okay, babydoll.” He sighs, rubbing her back soothingly as she hides her face in his neck. His gaze fixates on you, a small smile pulling at his lips,

“I’m glad you’re just as protective over mommy as I am.”

Reine Ruse Part 1

Okie Dokie everybody. Here’s the first part of the written out Reine Ruse AU. I’m sorry that it took so long, but I still get really nervous about posting my writing so I ended up putting it off a bit. 

I do want to clarify that the way Marinette views herself at the beginning of this does not reflect the way that I view her. I know that the show forces her to apologize for almost everything even when it’s not her fault, so I’ve tried to reflect that mentality at the start of this by having her have this attitude.

I would also like to say that I’m sorry if this seems rushed or that it could be better. The fact of the matter is that I’m really nervous to post this, so I decided to just get the first part up when I was too sleepy to second guess myself… As a result, this hasn’t been betaed or edited, so I’m sorry for any errors that you might find. 

That’ s enough rambling from me! Without further ado, the first installment of my Reine Ruse AU. Please let me know how I’m doing and if you’d like to see more! 



It had happened again. She’d arrived at school late, in a mad rush. She hadn’t been able to find her sketchbook that morning, but she knew that she’d taken it with her the previous day. She’d been working non-stop for the past three weeks on a new set of designs – there was going to be another design competition at the collegé, conceptual designs this time rather than physical prototypes and the prize was a coveted junior internship at Agreste Fashions. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of and she’d poured her heart and soul into the designs she was going to submit.

Keep reading

Judas IV

RK900 x Reader

Words: +3.800

A/N: Hello my Beautiful Deviants!!! ♥ I have another Chapter for you this week hurray!
I´m really trying to keep up with the Requests and Judas ♥
Hope you like the chapter :)



My Ko-fi

Walking down the street, Y/N eyes were carefully examining the area. She had the feeling her heart would jump right out of her chest and the anxiety was killing her.

But nothing could be compared to the itchiness of the wig she was wearing and the black make up that was smeared around her eyes.

Entering a small grocery story, she picked up the essentials she would need. Y/N bit her lip when she saw the wanted posters of both of them.

And now she was especially thankful that she went alone into the city. Funny enough, she could hide herself better then the ex future Android Detective.

“Are you scared?” the cashier asked when he saw her staring at the posters.

“No, just thought how handsome he looked. I wouldn´t mind him kidnapping me.” she winked while giving the cashier the money.

“Well would you mind if I kidnapped you?” he asked suggestively and she smiled at him.

“Oh honey don´t even try.” grabbing her stuff she turned around and as soon as she was out of the store she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.

All she wanted now was to get back. Taking the next bus, she drove to the edge of town.

“Should a little lamb like you run around late at night?” she suddenly heard a deep voice coming from a few trees on the side of the road.

“Oh is the big bad wolf going to snatch me away?” she chuckled, while walking towards the dark figure who laid his arms around her waist.

“He just might…” he whispered against her lips.

“I think he really should.” letting her hands wander up his chest, she closed the last space between their lips.

Keep reading

Time flies | part 2

AU/Imagine series w/Shawn Mendes

Part 1

Word count: 1,5K

Original request:  Hello, I was thinking if you could do an imagine wherein reader has a son with Shawn, but he doesn’t know about him, cuz reader left Shawn few years ago without a words (when she found out she is pregnant)? And one day her little son (5 years old maybe?) accidentally bump into Shawn and he is shocked that reader has a son. Sorry if its complicated 

Short description: Shawn finds out that he has a four-year-old son when he accidently bumps into him and his ex-girlfriend Y/N.

Author’s note: I’m not sure why I keep stretching this story out but let me know if you want me to turn this intro proper series, or should I just end it with part 3?

    “And you haven’t even thought of telling me this whole time?” Shawn scoffed, running fingers through his curls.

    Y/N sighed, looking around the park, lost in her thoughts. After sitting down on one of the benches, she decided to explain him everything, and once in a while both her and Shawn were glad to have Aaliyah there to keep her eye on Thomas. The boy was happy to spend time with somebody new, and Aaliyah’s sweet-talking intrigued his curiosity. Everything she said seemed funny to him, and he started occupying her with silly questions, distracting Aaliyah from college and difficulties she was facing with her boyfriend.

    “I didn’t know how to tell you, Shawn. The news would either change your life and career forever or break my heart, and I wasn’t risking it,” Y/N sighed, as Shawn held his face in his hands.

    “It’s not your decision to make, Y/N. You had to tell me; I deserve to know the truth. You didn’t have the right to keep this from me,” Shawn groaned, looking up at her.

Keep reading

Legacy (Part 2)

Erik Black Panther Part AU

[Prologue] [Part 1]

Recommended Listening: It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World (Live at the Apollo 1967) by James Brown and California Dreamin’ by Bobby Womack

“Shoes,” Julia commanded as soon as Erik set foot into the foyer.

He watched her for a beat before he realized what she wanted him to do. She plopped down onto the small bench positioned just behind the door and removed her shoes, tucking them beneath the open space below it. He took a seat beside her and bent to unlace the heavy black boots encasing his feet. When he rose, his joints cracked. He caught the light laughter from beside him. It sounded like music.

“You think this is a gas, huh?” Erik chuckled back at her before bumping his shoulder against hers.

“Indeed, Brother Stevens. Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

Erik watched the sway of her hips in the black pencil skirt, something he’d never done before. He shook his head and focused.

“Living room, obviously,” she murmured while making her way over to a record player perched on a side table. An impressive collection of records was neatly lined in a small shelf beside it.

“Anything you’d like to hear?”

“You’re a pretty heavy chick, Jules.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Her arms crossed beneath her breasts.

“You’re real straight-laced, ya dig? Whatcha got? Classical? Maybe a little jazz?” he chided. Part of him wanted to see Attorney Johnson a bit ruffled.

She grunted in annoyance and brushed by him to the stereo. She bent and rustled around on the shelf a bit before straightening and placing an LP on the turntable. The pop and hiss of the needle finding the groove filled the space between their bodies. When the first strains of Bobby Womack’s voice filtered through the speakers, Erik nodded his head in approval.

“Good enough, N’Jadaka?”

“Right on, Jules.”

Julia raised an eyebrow before continuing the tour. Erik was impressed. Her home looked exactly as he’d expected. Well kept with obvious nods to her blackness. He wanted to spend a few hours looking through the books arranged on two tall bookcases braced on either side of a hallway entry. Everything around him looked inviting. Where his apartment looked like just a place to crash, Julia’s looked like home. There were pictures on the walls, photos that told the story of her family. Erik’s heart hitched. Family was what he made it these days.

“The powder room and bedrooms are down that hall. I figured you may want to freshen up before I take you back to the center.”

She reached into a nearby closet and produced a fresh set of towels and washcloths.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything for you to change into. But at least you can get the stench of that place off your skin.” There was anger in her words.

“You cool?”

Julia drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes..no…I suppose I’m just frustrated.”

She braced her hands on her hips and rolled her neck.

“I spend all day helping to defend white men and women who barely see me as a human being, let alone equal. I’m like a dog and pony show. A shining example of the upwardly mobile Negro.”


“No. I get paid to do just that, but then I spend my free time making sure those who really need defending have a voice. The bugged out thing is half the time I’m just running in circles. Protecting those who end up victimizing my own people.”

Erik took a step towards her. Her raised palm stopped him.

“Everything you need should be under the sink. I’ll make you lunch. Go on now.”

Erik would let her have a reprieve, but he wasn’t done with Julia’s frustration yet. This was the first time he’d seen her threads showing. It worried him, but also sparked something within him. Her passion was like a magnet. He wanted more time to pick her brain about her work at the school and what she really wanted to do with her career.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Erik’s stomach directed him to the kitchen. It hadn’t been on Julia’s tour, but whatever she’d made while he was meditating under the shower head smelled heavenly.

“Finally done using all my hot water?” The levity was back in her voice.

“That shower is a black man’s heaven!”

The peal of laughter that erupted from Julia warmed Erik.

“Have a seat,” she ordered, her back to him as she stirred and plated food at the stove.

“So, this is what my Jules look like when she’s not being a badass?”

He quickly memorized the way she filled out the pale blue pedal pushers and tank matched with a pair of bright white Converse sneakers. Her hair was held back from her face in a large puff atop her head. She looked relaxed and Erik was glad to be able to be privy to it. He was well aware Julia outside the confines of her home was cool, collected, and fierce. Here, or at least in the present moment, she looked vulnerable and very much like a woman a bit unsure of herself.

“Your Jules is a regular person, Mr. Stevens. Even I put down the world at times.”

Erik knew she was telling him he should do the same. He gave her a hearty thanks when the brimming plate slid in front of him. A glass of iced tea settled next to his arm.  Between bites, Erik peppered the room with questions.

“You said there’s some heavy shit coming?”

“Eat. We have plenty of time to discuss that. We’re putting down the world, remember?”

Erik was beginning to understand one thing very clearly. If Julia didn’t want to do it, she wasn’t going to do it. He’d save himself a world of aggravation if he remembered that.


“Tell me what you know about this neighborhood,” Julia questioned when she took her seat on the sofa next to Erik. She stretched her arms above her head until her body tightened like a bow. When she relaxed, it was as if her limbs became liquid. It made Erik’s tension melt in turn.  Her voice rose slightly and melded with the lyrics of the record spinning on the turntable.

This is a man’s world//But it wouldn’t be nothing, nothing, not one little thing, without a woman or a girl//He’s lost in the wilderness//He’s lost in bitterness, he’s lost lost…

Erik let his eyes close. The smooth alto of her melody washed over him. When he opened his eyes again, Julia’s brown ones bore into his. There was a beat of heat between them before Erik pulled himself together.

“Solid middle class black folks. City workers and the like.”

Julia hummed, her fingers pulling open the drawer on the coffee table. She gathered a beautifully carved ebony wood box and used a painted toe to close the drawer again before drawing her legs beneath her. Flipping open the box, she threw a sidelong glance at Erik.

“And how long ago was that?”

“A year. What’s the deal?”

“Quite a bit can change in a year, N’Jadaka. That’s what this block used to be. I’m one of the few black holdouts. You see how close we are to the water, right? This, and where the school is built, is prime real estate. Times are a changin’.”

Erik nodded curtly. Her deft fingers were breaking up a small cluster of herb. He cleared his throat and she looked up.

“What? I’m a lot looser than you think I am. Open your mind.”

He let the silence build between the pleading of James’ voice. Within a few moments, Julia pointed a perfectly rolled joint his way.

“Guests first,” she joked

Erik took the offering and scooped a heavy marble lighter from the table. The red ember of the tip glowed in the dimmed room. He let the smoke curl from between his lips a few times before passing it back to her. Julia mimicked his actions.

“Now, sweet cheeks, tell me what’s rattling around in that brain of yours.”

Julia took another puff and sat up a bit. “All day I sit around and shuffle papers for a group of attorneys I would destroy if ever given the chance to litigate. But you know what I do get to see?”

Erik pulled a drag and held it until his lungs burned a bit. “What’s that, doll?”

“The madness about to breakout all over this city. You have no idea just how unscrupulous the underbelly of this government is.”

Erik pointed to his mouth, and then lifted his shirt. Julia acknowledged his pain with a grimace.

“The cops are just the surface of it. Believe me, I have plans for them. I’ll make you commissioner by the time I’m done.”

Laughter broke out between them. The last pleas of James Brown echoed in the room. Julia tilted her head towards the record player.

“Again?” she asked, rising from her perch.

He nodded and reached for the box to roll another joint. Julia placed the needle to the wax again, swaying gently before the stereo. Something in Erik made him relinquish his hold on the freshly rolled grass and cross the room to Julia. He snaked his arms around her waist. He felt her jolt a bit, but soon her fingers intertwined with his against her belly. He found the rhythm of her body and fell in time with it. They moved in sync until the record ran its course a second time. At the last hiss echoing in the room, Julia moved from his arms.


“Don’t sweat it, Jules. We’ll revisit this later,” he said as he guided her back to the sofa and pulled her legs across his lap.

The flame of the lighter burned for a brief moment followed by sweet smoke. He puffed then passed to her. She inhaled, tilted her head back, and blew smoke rings towards the sky.

“They’re going to try to take the center, ‘Daka. All that hard work down the drain.”

Erik massaged her calves to keep his anger in check. “You got a line on that?”

She hummed in affirmation. “Been sneaking out bits and pieces of intel since I stumbled across it. Those raids aren’t just friendly hellos. They’re digging and sooner than later they’re going to find whatever they’re looking for.”


@msincognito67 @thedom223 @thotyana-in-this-hoe  @youreadthatright @someareblindtoitsbeauty @heyauntieeee @awkwardlyabstract @marvelpotterlove  @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @royallyprincesslilly @ljstraightnochaser @drsunshine97 @jellybean531 @wakanda-inspired @brownmuse @thekrazykeke @ursapharoh05  @jackburtonsays @magic-madness-heavensin   @aykanna @amour-quinn @theresnomoregoodones @eriknutinthispoosy @sweetpeachjones @simplyyamberr @tgigoldie @ashanti-notthesinger @therevolution-willbelive @coonflix @kimpossible1997 @meeeeeeeeeps  @k-michaelis @marvelpotterlove  @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @afraiddreamingandloving    @vanitykocaine @yaachtynoboat711 @youcantkillamutant @theunsweetenedtruth @thadelightfulone @panthergoddessbast @bidibidibombaclaat

Imagine #6- Prank War

Imagine you get to prank Colby back after he got you for your birthday. (imagine #1)

Imagine Colby brought you into the prank war.

You just finished setting up the prank for colby. Sam was in on it. He was so excited that he invited katrina over to see how everything unravelled. It was a remake of sam’s old prank on katrina. A fake robbery. You called him, and he answered.

“Hey baby! Where are you? I’m at Katrina’s right now. Are you back from japan yet?” You asked.

“Yeah, no i’m back. Brennan and I are taking an uber back to the mansion. Want to meet at kat’s instead?” he asked.

“Yeah. sure! We were all headed out but we can wait for you guys.” You said.

“All right. See you at Kat’s. Love you.” He said. You guys waited, and you sent sam to go park colby’s car down the road and then katrina left with him to her apartment. You finished setting up the cameras then you headed your way to katrina’s. You went to seven eleven to get a few things so you had an excuse for Colby if he got there before you.

“Kat! I’m back!” You raised your voice so she could hear you.”

“Babe! I’m here!” Colby screamed from the living room.

“Oh my gosh! Babe hi!” You gave him a huge kiss and hug.

“Hi sweetie! Are we all set to go?” I wanna see my home!” Colby complained.

“Okay! Okay. Let’s go. Kat, you got sam?” You asked kat.

“Yeah. he’s in the bathroom i’ll wait for him.” she said. You nodded and you left with colby.

“You want some food? There’s some chips in the back.”

“Thanks babe. So, how are you?” He asked.

“I’ve been okay. Just been missing you a lot.” You said as you blushed. You started the car. He turned the key back. “What are you doing?” You asked him.

“I just wanted to get one second of alone time with you. We are going to a mansion FLOWING with people. I love you, Y/N. Really. I’m glad to be home.” He said and he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You want to nap on the way home?” You asked.

“That would be nice. Love you.” He said and he drifted off to sleep.

When you got home you woke Colby up. “Babe, we’re here. Wake up!” You said.

“Oh my gosh. That was a really good nap.” He said. “Wait, where’s my car?” He asked. I got out and punched in the code to get into the driveway. I went inside and parked my car in the driveway. Colby got out and you guys walked to the door. Sam and Kat drove up and parked in the driveway too.

“Wait, babe. Why is the door open?” You stopped Colby in his tracks to the house.

“What’s wrong you guys?” Sam asked us. I pointed my finger to the door.

“Did you shut it before you left, Y/N?” Kat asked.

“Yeah! I made sure of it. It couldn’t have been me because Aaron goes to the gym for like one or two hours at 1 in the morning. Maybe Aaron left it open without realizing it. “ You tried to reason.

“What about Corey and Devyn?” Colby asked.

“Corey had a family emergency and had to go to Florida for a few days. He hasn’t been home since Sunday.” You explained.

“Weird.” Said Kat. “I guess we should just think Aaron left it open on accident.” We went to the door. We entered the house.

“Hello? Aaron? Buddy? Circa?” Colby asked. He pushed me behind them. Then, Devyn, Aaron and Corey in burglar outfits came out one by one. “Who the fuck are you? Why are you here?” He screamed.

“You should really learn to lock your doors, children!” Said Corey in a deeper voice. He had a knife that was covered in fake blood. Nice touch.

You tried to push Colby out the door, but in doing so the ‘robber’ Aaron grabbed you and put a knife to your throat.

“YN! LET HER GO YOU DOUCHEBAGS!” I saw a tear run down Colby’s cheek.

“Keep screaming and the blonde one’s next!” Said Devyn. Kat gasped.

“Let my girlfriend go, please. We will give you whatever you want.”

“We already stole everything. So, she’s irrelevant to us.” Aaron said as he cut my throat.

I dropped down on the floor and the ‘burglars’ left.

“No! My baby! What the fuck! I love you so much, Y/N! We’re going to get some help! Sam! Call 911!” Colby screamed. He ran over to you, and he put your head on his lap. As soon as you felt a tear fall onto your cheek, you started to laugh.

“Huh?” Colby was confused.

“I can’t believe you FELL for that! Oh baby! I love you too. It’s just a prank. The burglars were Devyn, Corey and Aaron in costume. We rehearsed it so that Aaron didn’t actually cut me.I’m fine, honey.” You exclaimed.

“I hate you.” He said. “But I love you. Don’t you ever do that to me again! I thought I lost you!” Colby said.

“Glad to know you actually care. Love you, baby.” You said as you pecked him on the cheek. The burglars entered the room and immediately started to apologize to Colby.

“Colby, one more thing.” You said.

“What?” He asked.

“Welcome to the MEGA PRANK WAR!” Everyone yelled. “Team Y/N and the house against Team Colby! Love you baby.” You said.

“Oh, I hate you. You’re so dead. But I love you, c’mere.” Colby said and he started to carry you to the pool.

“Colby! Put me DOWN!” You yelled. “My phone!” You exclaimed. He pulled your phone from out of your pocket, then tossed you into the pool.

“Oh, Brock. It’s on.” You said after you got a breath. He squealed and ran upstairs. You followed him.

Oh boy.

Should I report this?

So bit of a backstory: I work at a crafting store where they throw me anywhere they need me which, right now, is register or sales floor. There’s a lady who regularly comes in who is basically a giant bitch. She is one of those customers who wants you to do everything but wipe her ass. I stopped letting her treat me like shit by getting a little sarcastic and snippy back which apparently does it for her as she always singles me out to help her. Yes she goes running to the managers that I was being a little less than kind but they just tell me to behave since I still make sure she’s taken care of (appropriate items found, coupons in full use etc) so she can’t claim I’m neglecting her. Now. She recently started coming in less and less and then, surprise, I find her at the galaxybucks I frequent. She’s a barista there now. Before I proceed, I’ll admit I decided to be a bitch customer right back now that the roles were switched. And she seemed to know this as the first time she handed me a drink. I was that person who said it wasn’t X enough and made her redo it. Petty and I’m not proud but it was a little fuck you back to her. Plus the other workers started picking up that there was some sort of hostility between she and I so they seemed to steer clear. In retaliation, she got bitchier when she came into my job which I could deal with as it’s only fair. You can’t fight fire with fire and expect to not get burned back.

So the part that has me wondering if I should report her or not or say something is because today when I received my drink she grinned and told me, “I win.” I have no idea what she did to my drink or if this was some sort of psychological way to mess with me but I didn’t drink it. I ended up throwing it out. I already have enough health problems that I seriously did not trust it. Yes I am aware I am at fault too for being that person people hate but I don’t know. I guess I figured this would just be a petty contest with her not a “I’m gonna fuck you up” contest.

Tldr bitchy customer became a barista so I became her bitchy customer and now I’m convinced she did something to my drink.

Deepest Darkest Secret

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Chapter 15. Baz.


I hear his feet thundering down the stairs. They don’t pause when I call his name.

My hands are shaking. He hates me – I saw the look on his face, seconds before he went off – I don’t know if he’ll forgive me. I wouldn’t. Not after the things I said. Stupid git – strong and stubborn and courageous fuck that he is – couldn’t just go off when I picked a fight with him, he had to make me go and say all those things. I didn’t think I would have to go that far.

He has to forgive me. He has to understand why I did it. We’re running out of time.

I straighten up – fucking hurry up, Baz, no point in standing here shaking – and chase after him. I can’t stop seeing the look in his eyes, the way his magic blurred around him and slipped out of his control, and hearing the things I said. I was never supposed to make him feel like that again. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t.

He has to understand that I didn’t mean it.

Keep reading

What do you mean you can’t replace it?!… Yes I have a lot of money from my rich husband, but you should be giving me something here for even using your service. Ridiculous!

I let my maid borrow my phone ONCE and she drops it in the toilet! Can’t trust anyone anymore!! Everything that matters, they’ll take from you. That’s why I lock up my diamonds. She probably did it on purpose so I couldn’t text her my morning Starbucks run order before my Christian yoga class. (Booty challenge day 13, y'all!) Whatever, Jesus will come for her. He doesn’t like jealousy! ;) In the meantime, I have a nail appointment and casserole in the oven! Talk soon!! xoxo