i spent hours trying to colour this and i still failed

Studying with an invisible illness

Studying when you’re sick is one of worst things. Trying to study when you are always sick is even worse and having teachers or lecturers constantly debate your well-being or how sick you actually are, can be one of the most depressing situations. I have suffered with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome since I was 16, all through my A-Levels and through my first year of University. I passed everything! Perhaps I didn’t get the perfect grade, but for me that is not the most important thing anymore. Here I have listed some of the tips which help me study:

1.       Don’t overdo it! Set yourself a goal, maybe two or three pages of reading or a page of notes on reading. The worst thing you can try and do is bash on regardless. It is important you understand your body and your limits.

2.       Study in small bursts. I find that studying in small sets of 20 minutes with a 20 minute break are great for me. It allows me time to focus on what I need to do, but I don’t tire myself out studying for hours and hours on end. Naturally, these times can be managed to your own personal needs.

3.       Set up a nice space. I can’t stress how important it is that you are comfortable when you are studying, especially when you’re not feeling that great. If you know you are going to study in bed, make up you have everything you need in arms reach, including snacks and drinks. If you are going to study at a desk, the library, a café, the same rules apply! Make sure the chairs are comfy, that there is enough light and that you are comfortable leaving your stuff (in case of bathroom breaks or emergencies.) It is also worth noting that some pain medications can take up to 30 mins to work, so plan ahead and take them before!

4.       Certain classes will need prioritisation. This was super hard for me. In A-Levels, I studied what I wanted to study, despite certain teachers trying to persuade me otherwise. I chose three relatively hard subjects; English language, German and Psychology. Both my German classes were at 9am, a time which I super struggle to get up for. Therefore, I knew I had to prioritise my German studies over my English studies, classes which I attended regularly. It is important to note that keeping a healthy balance between all subjects is important too!

5.       Podcasts and audio books! Not feeling that great but still need to study? Find podcasts and audio books on relevant topics and listen to them while lying down or in bed. (I used to make my own recordings of my psychology book to listen to when I needed to take a day off.)

6.       Don’t be afraid to take a day off. When I was at the peak of my illness, I was still trying to force myself to get to all my classes or to study. Now I realise that I don’t have to feel guilty for taking a day or two to recover. I try not to let these become weeks, but sometimes it happens. And that is ok. If you are constantly punishing yourself, you will never feel good about the amount of work you do complete!

7.       Planning to go to University? This links in with my previous point. Don’t feel the need to rush into everything so quickly. You can take a year off. You can recover. You can do things you love to do in this time. I took a gap year, in which I mostly spent a lot of time with my Mum and sister before going to University. It helped me so much.

8.       Suffer from brain fog? Use memory techniques such as colour coding words, highlighting important information, mnemonics, reading aloud and quizzes. When I suffer from brain fog, I find colour-coding and visual aids the most helpful. Study groups which break down subjects into easier, more manageable bites of information are also super great!

9.       Stay away from caffeine! A lot of people I know depend on caffeine in order to get themselves started. While caffeine can help boost your energy levels for a small amount of time or focus your brain, too much caffeine can have negative effects on your sleep, which may make you feel worse the next day. Try and limit your caffeine to two or three cups a day if you absolutely need a cup of coffee!

10.   Don’t panic. You are doing the best that you can. If you fail, it is not the end of the world. I wish somebody had told me this sooner. If you fail an exam, you can do it again, at a later date. If you fail a year, you can do it again. This happens to people who aren’t sick all the time. So don’t worry. Just do your best.


Your eyes lock with each other, each look becoming more loving and longing every second that passes by. You rest your head on his chest, making him smile, thanking the gods above for this moment with you. He kisses the top of your head, holding you even tighter, closer, and safer.
“I think I’ve completely fallen for you.” He says.

Summary: In which you worked at the local diner in the city and found yourself to have fallen for Zach Dempsey.

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Reader (you)


ya’ll i hope u like this cos i do its my fave one so far PLS LMK

Thursday. It was the very first time you saw Zach Dempsey, along with his teammates, step in to the diner. It looked like as if they just got out of basketball practice, as you can tell by the duffel bags and red, leather basketballs they had in hand. Boy, were they rowdy. ­Zach’s tall frame always stood out to you. His attempt to make his floppy hair stay still was your amusement during your 5-hour weekday shifts.

It was every Thursday night that stolen glances, shy smiles, and failed attempts of conversations would happen.

Keep reading

continued from yesterday’s request.


Click for: [Part 1]

MC Breaks Something Important to RFA [2]


—AU where MC is his assistant.

  • You strolled Saeran’s office lazily, bored of having nothing to do while he typed away on his computers. A framed photo sitting on top of a drawer caught your eye, and you walked towards it curiously.
  • It was… a photo of himself?
  • You furrowed your eyebrows, only to quickly realize it was actually Luciel Choi in the picture.
  • “Saeran,” you called, waving the photo in your hands, “Why do you have a picture of your bro-“
  • Before you could finish your sentence, the frame slipped out of your hands, crashing onto the floor.
  • Saeran’s eyes hardened at you, and he stomped over, grabbing you by the wrist. “What do you think you’re doing!?” he hissed. “Who gave you the right to snoop around my stuff, huh?”
  • You stumbled, slightly taken aback. “I’m sorry for breaking it, but… don’t you hate your brother? Why would you have a picture—”
  • He silenced you with a warning glare, and you knew to shut up.
  • Later, you found him huddled in the bathroom, despairing over how to fix the photo frame. You wondered what was so special about it—the photo inside was safe, but why was he fretting over the frame so much?
  • He noticed you in the mirror, and sighed. “Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
  • You shrugged, sauntering over to him. “So are you going to tell me anything?”
  • Saeran side-glanced at you, then pressed his lips into a line. “One question.”
  • “Well, what’s so special about the photo frame?”
  • “…Different question.”
  • “Why do you have a photo of Luciel Choi if you hate him so much?”
  • He averted his eyes, and you knew before he even answered you that it was a lie. But his voice was smooth and there wasn’t a stammer in his words. “So I can remember the face of the person I want dead, of course.”
  • Even his explanation sounded ridiculous—Luciel was his identical twin brother. What a lame excuse, you thought, shaking your head.
  • Saeran cast another glare at you, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed to have said anything. He shoved you aside as he walked away, and you couldn’t help but stare after him, wondering what secrets the mysterious man held…


  • Your arms were wrapped around his neck while his hands roamed all around your body, making you shiver with anticipation.
  • His lips were locked on yours in a heated kiss, and you were starting to have trouble in keeping up. You needed to breathe, but he wasn’t getting the hint, thinking that the hand you pressed against his chest was sexual… So you flailed your arms about, hoping to catch his attention, but you accidentally knocked over a glass trophy from the drawer.
  • He broke the kiss immediately, letting go of you as his eyes followed the falling trophy. His hand reached towards it, trying to catch it before it fell to the floor… but he was too late.
  • It shattered. Zen stared wide-eyed at the glass pieces—he felt like he was staring at his heart. Broken.
  • Your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped. It was the first trophy Zen had won, showing that he was the “Best Actor of the Year.” It was the symbol of not only his transition from theatre acting to movie acting but also all the hours of practice he’d put up with, all the criticism he’d moved on from, and all the effort he’d put into his performances as well.
  • ‘Sorry’ wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
  • All the colour had drained from his face. His lips were pressed in a thin line, and you could tell he was trying to hold back his disappointment and anger, even from behind.
  • “Just go. I’ll clean it up,” he muttered, managing to control the tone of his voice.
  • You began to protest, “No, I broke it, so I should-“
  • He spun around angrily, “I SAID-“
  • … but as he did so, his shoulder knocked into your head, the force of his spin making you pass out immediately.
  • Zen dropped to his knees immediately, kneeling beside you. His heart was hammering in his chest—shit, had he just…? No, no, no…
  • He hated the thought of hurting you, and even if you had broken something important to him, he would never want to hit you. Even if it hadn’t been intentional, Zen was already blaming himself and hating himself for doing this to you—to his princess.
  • With shaky hands, he dialled for an ambulance, his voice trembling as he explained the situation.
  • While you were taken to the hospital, the police confronted him, stating how he needed to be investigated. ‘There’s broken glass and a passed out woman… who knows if you physically abuse her? We’ve got to check,’ they explained with a shrug.
  • Although they hadn’t meant any harm, their words stung.  He would never hurt you on purpose.
  • Eventually, he did get through investigations, but now he could only stay beside you as you slept on the hospital bed. The doctors had said it was all okay, lest for a bruise that would remain on the side of your head for a while… but Zen still couldn’t stop himself from letting the guilt crush him.
  • Staring down at your motionless body was painful.
  • Even when you woke up and could finally go home, he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye.
  • “Zen… Zenny, it was my fault,” you tried, thinking he was still mad about the trophy.
  • He turned to you with a confused look, then shook his head. “No… The trophy doesn’t matter, jagi,” he said, “Please don’t worry about it. But your head… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
  • Now you understood why he was looking so ashamed and sad.
  • You walked in front of him, cradling his hands in your own as you forced him to look at you.
  • “If you can forgive me for something as important as breaking your trophy, then you can forgive yourself for accidentally hitting me, can’t you?” you reason with him.
  • His lips curl into a pout, and he stares into your eyes. “Can we just continue kissing and forget about everything that happened in the last 12 hours?”
  • You chuckle, “Alright. This time, let’s just start on the bed instead of trying to imitate the movies…”
  • He swung his arm around your waist as you continued walking home, a soft smile on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly to himself.


| Warning: Angst, Mentions of Death

  • She stared at the cup that had just fallen from your hands and crashed onto the floor, shattering into pieces.
  • Your hands flew to your mouth in horror, too shocked for words to come out. You knew you had just dropped Jaehee’s favourite mug—it had been custom-made from her mother.
  • She lowered her eyes, knelt down and began to pick up the pieces without a word, not looking at you.
  • “I-I’m really sorry,” you squeaked out, guilt overwhelming you. You timidly shut the drawers that the cup had fallen from, not knowing what to do.
  • She only sighed in response. “It… was bound to break one day.”
  • A glass shard slipped through her fingers and cut her, and you flew to her side immediately, reaching to inspect her hand out of concern.
  • She suddenly hissed at you, “Don’t touch me, please.”
  • And you knew she was mad. She wasn’t blaming you, but she was evidently upset by your mistake. That only made you feel worse. Had she yelled at you instead, you would’ve felt a lot less guilty.
  • “I want to be alone for now,” she muttered, watching a drop of blood form on her cut and slide to the floor.
  • “I’ll clean it up,” you offered, trying to make it up to her. She didn’t reply, only standing up and walking away.
  • Although she had said she wanted to be alone, you couldn’t help but notice her social media filling with new photos everyday, all showing how she happy she was, hanging out with her friends. It wasn’t that she wanted to be alone, you realized, she just wanted to be away from you.
  • You did know how much the mug had mattered to her—it was Jaehee’s last memento of her mother, after all. Still, couldn’t Jaehee be more mature about this and talk with you instead of avoiding you???
  • It was lonely in the apartment. Jaehee worked all day and spent all her free time with her friends at the bar or partying—you didn’t even think she was the type to do that. You opened the drawer in your room where the shards of what had been Jaehee’s mug were placed. You had tried to find places that could somehow fix the broken mug, but the returned calls so far had said it was impossible.
  • Your phone rang, the noise startling you, but you picked it up without hesitation. “Hello?” you said, a bit breathlessly.
  • “Hi. This is Mori. You’re the customer with that broken mug, right? Well, I can’t fix it, but I can make a perfect replication of it, if you want. All you’d need to do is drop by, show me the material and photos of how it looked before it broke.”
  • That was better than nothing, you figured. “I’ll head over right away!”
  • In your excitement as you drove to your destination, you failed to notice a truck that sped towards you as you made a left turn on the road…
  • You remembered seeing everything turn upside down before all faded to black.
Drunk In Love

Request: Hello!! Please, write a Remusxreader where she goes to a Slytherin party from her friend and she drinks so much that she forgets that Remus is her boyfriend and she goes to his dorm to flirt with him and he has to take care of her (he is not mad)? Thank you!

Originally posted by marauderseraimagines

The silver and green colours started to became blurred soon after you arrived to the party into the cool dungeon. You weren’t the type who spent her free weekends with getting drunk, so you didn’t need much to feel yourself dizzy – and also, unusually confident.

But this was the first time when you ignored your promises to yourself and crossed your own borders; you had so much fun and just had a drink after drink, not really feeling how much it affected you until you stopped for a five minutes after hours.

You said goodbye to your friends and made them sure you can walk alone before left the Slytherin common room. The Gryffindor tower was a long way from there, and the moving staircases didn’t help your unbearable dizziness – you felt you could threw up in any moment.

But you didn’t, fortunately. You stopped in the seventh floor and glanced at your watch – it took you nearly forty minutes to arrive there. That was probably a new record. Only when you looked at the snoring Fat Lady, you realized you don’t remember the password. “Please let me in!” – You cried, causing her to open her eyes with a scared face.


You sighed and leaned against the wall. “I forget.”

“No password, no entry.”

“But I’m a Gryffindor!” – You shouted desperately. – “LET ME IN!”

The Fat Lady gasped loudly. “How dare you to shouting at me!”

You opened your mouth to continue to argue with her, but then you heard voices near to you; three boys just walked closer in the corridor. “What’s happening? Are you alright?” – James asked and you looked up at him with confused eyes, but the portrait kept telling her own.

“I bet she is! Just look at her! I won’t let anyone to talk to me like that!”

Sirius stepped closer. “Oh my Lady, I’m sure she didn’t meant to. Mandrake leaf.”

“Oh, she didn’t mean to! Now listen to me…”

“Mandrake leaf.” – He cut her off, repeating the password, so the Fad Lady grudgingly though, but opened the door for them. They boys helped her to climb through and they stopped in the empty, dimly lit common room where you looked around; your vision was still blurry. Your gaze stopped at Sirius, James, and Peter before your eyes widened. “I go up to Remus.”

All of them growled at the same time, but Sirius opened her mouth first. “Be quick, I’m really tired.”

You threw a last, confused glance at them before hurried up into their dormitory, finding it quickly and storming in without knocking. Remus shifted in his bed and you walked closer, plopped down on the ground and elbowed on the edge of the bed. You ran your fingers through his messy hair and let out a soft giggle, causing him to open his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I just, I wanted to see you, you know? I really wanted to see you.”

He sat up and took a hand of yours into his. “Why are you on the ground?”

“I don’t know.” – You hiccupped. “I was tired.”

“Then why didn’t you lied next to me?”

You looked at him, confused, but blushing. “Because that’d been strange. Right? Me? Sleeping with you?”

Remus furrowed his brows in confuse, but helped you to stand up and sit down on his bed before grabbed a glass of water and gave it to you. You eagerly drank all of it, suddenly realizing how thirsty you were. He looked at you carefully, and you looked back at him dreamy eyes. “You’re so cute, Remus. So adorable. I wish I could be your girlfriend.”

He let out a short laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.” – You said with an offended voice. – ‘M not. You’re really nice and cute and – so handsome.” – You cupped his cheek. – “Sooo handsome.”

“Okay.” – He said, taking your hand. – “I think you need some sleep.”

You jerked your hand away and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Can I sleep with you?”

“You can.” – He said, still smiling, his hands around your waist.

You grinned at him, but changed your tone into a serious one in the next moment. “But you promise me your pants will stay on. I’m not like this, you know.”

He dropped his head on your shoulder for a moment, laughing before looked back at you. “I know, Y/N. I promise I won’t do anything.”

“Good.” – You smiled. “You’re so cute. Now, would you help me to take these off? But you can’t watch! Or you can.” – You tried to wink, but failed miserably.

He ran his fingers through his hair and chuckled. “That will be hard, but alright.” – Slowly, he started to unbutton your shirt, keeping the eyecontant, but you could see he was trying really hard to hide his smiles. He leaned down and helped you out of your skirt while you clutched on his shoulder, trying not to fall over. You couldn’t help but blushing, standing in front of him only in your underwear while he grabbed a t-shirt from his trunk and helped to take it on.

He made some space and lied back on the sheets, and you followed, letting out a satisfied sigh after your head hit the soft pillow. Your eyes was closed, but you felt as Remus pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “You smell so good.”

Opening your eyes, you saw as he was leaning above you, looking at you with his kind, brown eyes. Cupping his cheek, you stroked it with your thumbs while he smiled. “You’re so silly.”

“Why are you saying that?” – You asked with a childish tone.

“You’ll see in the morning.”

You huffed, but didn’t have the energy for arguing. He wiped a loose strand of hair from your face. “Do you need anything?” – He asked in a low voice.

“A goodnight kiss.” – You said, hands falling off of his face. Remus smiled and leaned closer, pressing a short, soft kiss on your lips. Your eyes remained closed as he pulled back, so you couldn’t see, but he watched you until you fell asleep. 



Reader x Kol Mikaelson



Imagine: You had just been transformed into a vampire and commited your first kill, which induced you to turn off your emotions in order to help you cope. Yet, being so close to the Mikaelson family, they would not allow you to stay that way for long. However, despite how hard they try, the only one who manages to break down your walls is Kol Mikaelson.

Warnings: lights descriptions of torture, mostly fluff and swearing. no biggie. 

Word Count: 2503

I fell onto the cold, hard ground, finally realising what I had done. Blood was spilt across my face and my body, proving it was not just some twisted dream fabricated by my mind to punish me for becoming a vampire; no, I had actually killed all those people. Their limp forms were scattered throughout the dark room, their necks broken due to my brutally. A growing pain took over me, leading to a strangled, loud gasp to crawl out of my lips. The guilt was too much for me to overcome it so easily.

“Y/N?” A deep, somehow soft too, male voice cut through the devastating silence. “What happened here?”

“I murdered them.” I managed to blurt out, tears already streaming down my warm, red cheeks. “I was angry, scared, hungry. I-I couldn’t control myself, Kol. I just couldn’t.”

“Oh baby.” He whispered in a soothing tone, one I did not deserve. “I hate to see you like that! It was a mistake. You’re new, it happens.”

“No, no, no. I ripped these people from their lives. I shouldn't… I can’t!”

“Y/N, listen to me!” My eyes were screwed shut, yet, the salty teardrops kept descending, reaching my bottom lip. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Turn it off.” Someone else said, coming from behind Kol. “You don’t have to suffer because of this. Just turn it off.”

“Are you insane, mate?” The tall, brown haired man yelled, obviously mad at the proposition. “She’s not going to do this!”

Damon smirked, tilting his head slightly, whilst graciously leaning against a covered with scarlet blood wall. Although it was a entirely crazy idea, my Salvatore friend had a point. Turning my emotions off could be really helpful, for it would rule out of the game all distractions. It would help me develop as a vampire. Plus, if I experience even one more ounce of this crushing pain I have inside now, I would surely break.  

For one second I felt everything rushing through me, every bit of feeling, like pure energy was flowing inside my veins, and then it was over. I did not feel a thing. Not guilt, not sadness. Absolutely nothing. Solely void was left behind.

“Y/N, please tell me you didn't…”

A bright, wide smile curled my lips, revealing there was nothing that the mighty Mikaelson could do, except enjoy this new side of me.

“I did, honey bunch.” I winked at him, getting back on my own feet. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a few business to solve.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Kol stated, grasping my wrist and forcing me to stay where I was. “And Damon, you better disappear before I have the chance to rip your heart out.”

Those words said, it took less than a split  second for the plain white room to get suddenly crowded. Stefan and Elena went to Damon’s side, gently clutching his arms, assuring he would stay in place; yet, they did not come alone, for Rebekah, Klaus and Elijah rapidly approached their reckless sibling as well. I sighed, starting to get utterly bored from this whole situation.

Klaus cleared his throat, moving one step ahead and shooting a fierce look towards the Salvatores. He was obviously not happy to be seeing this horrific scene.

“Alright, who is going to explain what has happened here​?”

“Why was Kol threatening Damon?” The brown haired doppelgänger quizzed, quirking an eyebrow. “I thought we had decided to call a truce. For Y/N’s sake.”

“He pushed Y/N into turning off her emotions.” The younger Mikaelson brother said, narrowing his eyes and still keeping me under his tight grip. However, even though this dialogue was annoying as hell, I could not care less about what was on the verge of happening. “Is it enough or you fellas need me to find another reason to be mad at the glorious Damon Salvatore?”

“You mean she…” Rebekah’s voice died out before she finished her sentence and her sibling replied with a weak nod. Man, those people were simply pathetic! “Let’s go home, then. We need to get Y/N back as soon as possible.”

Ultimately, I pushed Kol’s hand away from my upper arm and went to the centre of the room, staring each person standing in there. They had quickly formed a circle around me, perhaps thinking they could avoid my escape. Fools.

I chuckled, sustaining their strong glances at me and crossing my arms on my chest.

“Uh, if I may have a say on my own life, I don’t want to turn back on. I’m actually feeling pretty good the way I am.”

“I’m sorry, love, but you have no idea what you want right now.”

“Out of everyone, Klaus, I really thought you would appreciate this new version of me.” Licking my lips, I walked smoothly to where the Hybrid was whilst hearing everyone’s breathing hitch on their respective throats. “I was obviously wrong.”

“No, darling, you were wrong to get closer enough for me to this.”

Then Klaus, piecing his blue eyes on my own, got hold of my neck, his hands soft on the skin he grasped; sharing one last look, he swiftly twisted it, killing me where I stood. Yet, even though darkness engulfed me pretty quickly, I still formed one last thought: the blond Hybrid was totally right.

The room I woke up to was bright. And amazingly beautiful. Like it belong to a king. Or a queen. Its walls had a miscellaneous set of colours while the expensive furniture was perfectly positioned, like it had been made to that exact spot. The whole thing was simply perfect. However, whatever amazingness I should have been caught into, it was broken the second I realised I was chained up. Urgh, why couldn’t they just let me go? This is so boring!

“She’s awake.” Rebekah muttered, swinging the tall white doors open. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Oh, hello, munchkin.” An ironic smirk lied carelessly on my lips. “Such a nice day, isn’t it?”

“I definitely hate turned off Y/N.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed, yet, I could still see sadness playing on her gorgeous traits. “Come on. I want to try it first.”

“Poor Rebekah, always trying to save the ones she loves.” I said, staring at her emotionlessly. It was odd, though, for the memories of our friendship were still fresh in my mind.  I was not able to care, though. “Don’t you get tired?”

The blonde soaked a small blade in a transparent, thin liquid, right before she dug it into me. I could sense the stinging pain, yet, it was not enough. I smiled faintly at her failed attempt to flip the switch back on.

“Try harder, Bekah!” It was teasing. Oldest trick in the world to get people mad. The ones who cared, anyway. “Come on! Fight for me.”

“God, you are such a spoilt brat!” The original snarled, burying the knife deep within my flesh. “Why don’t you obey, for once, the elders?”

“Enough, sister.” Klaus put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her to go any further. “Let me handle it. I might have a better chance.”

“Uh, I feel so especial! The mighty Hybrid caring for me.” A maniac smile changed my traits, giving it a crazy gleam, as he took his sister’s place, removing the blade afterwards. “Well, I should, shouldn’t I? I don’t. I feel nothing. Or does boredom count?”

“Look at me, Y/N.” I raised my chin, defying him by fixating my eyesight on his. “Now pay attention: you are loved. By everyone in this family. We would risk everything for you. Do anything. You’re a Mikaelson just as much as I am. Why don’t you try for us? Me, Rebekah, Elijah, Kol…”

“Really, Niklaus? That’s the trick you are using? Trying to make me feel like I belong?”

“You do belong, Y/N.” He stroke my cheek, his slim fingers tracing my cheekbones. “You are family. Come back to your family.”

“Nah, I don’t think that’ll break me.”

Klaus allowed a tired exhale to slip, shaking his head. I could bet he thought this was going to be easy: just appeal to her loyalty towards her family and she’ll be right back on track. Not exactly, Nik. I bit my bottom lip to avoid a sneer laugh. .

“Don’t make it so difficult, sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t if you just let me go.”

“You see, darling, that’s not happening. You either flip back on or flip back on. There’s no other possibility.”

“Now what is it? Rage? Or is it pity? Doesn’t matter. It won’t do the trick, Niklaus.”

My last remark had done it for the Hybrid, because the anger within his irises announced what he was going to do next: snap my neck. For the second time. It must be my lucky day.

Simply marvellous!

“Are you awake now, love?” Someone questioned, tenderly massaging my arms, bringing me to a rather spinning reality. I blinked quickly, adjusting to the new found darkness. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine. Perfectly fine.” My voice sounded hoarse, probably due to the hours I spent “asleep”.”I imagined you would be their last resource. The reckless Mikaelson. My boyfriend, or is it ex? I don’t quite know.”

“Oh dear, it’s going to take a lot more than a humanity switch off for you to get rid of me.” He chuckled, bitterly. “I didn’t come here to convince you that this is wrong. I’m afraid you already are aware of it.”

“Then what?” I whispered, fighting against the tiredness. It was getting harder and harder to not feel anything. The emotions were scraping the walls of my head, crawling back to where they belonged. Nevertheless, I would not allow them to surface it. No. Never. “What do you want, mighty Mikaelson? Torture me some more? See if you, out of everyone, can make me flip back on?”  

“Nah, I just want to talk to you.”

“Care to be more specific, sweetheart?”

“I want to tell you a story.” He clarified in a smooth tone, his lips dangerously close to mine. His mint scented breath fanning all over my face, making me want to kiss him, to taste that mouth. Urgh. “About a relationship I had in the past.”

“Oh, I see. You do want to bore to death.”

“Quit being a brat and listen!”

“Fine.” A soft sigh escaped as I nodded, agreeing. “Go on.”

“Before I met you, I was madly in love with this girl called Davina Claire. Damn,  she was perfect! In every way.” Kol paused, swallowing thickly; perhaps he was struggling with the memories of his old ex girlfriend. “However, when she brought me back to life, it came with a price. I was cursed with an unbearable thirst. I tried to resist! It was worthless, for in the end, she died by my hand. And, God, it hurt like hell! I mean, I had lost the only thing that had ever made me feel something. I killed the only person that had ever touched my soul.”

“Is this supposed to be touching?”

“Oh come on, I’m not finished.”

“Proceed, then. At least it keeps me distracted from this knife buried in my skin.”

“I beg your pardon.” The brown haired Mikaelson smiled, gently, and pulled the blade off, winning a relieved gasp from me. Klaus must have put in back on to keep my blood flowing. “Now, as I was saying, I had lost everything. My magic. My Davina. Then I was bitten by Marcel and put into a slumber.”

“Didn’t you ever live? All your stories end with you in boxes.” The statement slipped and I widened my eyes, surprised. I did not care, why should I be asking stuff?

“I blame Nik for that, but you are right. My life kind of sucked and with Davina gone, it all became pointless again. That was when you, my tiny witty human, showed up.”

“I’m not tiny. Nor witty. Not even human.”

He laughed, clearly amused.  

“Yes, you’re still tiny and witty. For me anyway. And I love you. So much.”

“Can’t do anything about it.” I shrugged clumsily, still restrained by the chains soaked in vervain. “This is ridiculous, don’t you see? All of you? I won’t get my feelings back.”

Kol, suddenly, cupped my cheeks, his eyes filled with everything mine lacked. It was hard to sustain the intimate exchange of looks, for tears began to well up on that chocolate sea. If I kept staring, I knew I was not going to be able to resist any longer.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Y/N. You’re the only good thing in my life right now and I can’t afford it. I won’t let you destroy yourself because of a reckless mistake. Because I wasn’t around to teach you.”

I chewed my bottom lip, finally caving in and feeling the energy of my emotions flooding back in. All of it. Pain, guilt, rage, love. Love! I had hurt so many people I loved! How dared I say so many hurtful things to them?

Salty teardrops fell down my cheeks with the realisation of the evil I had performed in the time I spent off. No one should forgive me for what I did or said. I was not worthy of it. A cry rumbled in my chest as I absorbed, bit by bit, the enormous acheness from my previous actions.


“I’m so s-sorry, my love.” Those words came out mingled, stuttered, strangled. I closed my eyes, avoiding the silky, reassuring look I got from my boyfriend when I voiced a coward apology. What good have I done to have someone so sweet to look after me like him? “The pain… It took over me. Made me do things. I thought I was going to break!”

“Hush, sweetheart.” His warm digits silenced me, resting against my mouth delicately. “First let me get you out of these chains.”

“How can you trust me, Kol?”

“We’ve been together for a while now and I got to know your eyes, those sweet Y/E/C eyes, very well. I know when you’re lying.” He broke the iron that held me up, which lead to a clumsily stumble, for I was unable to stand on my feet properly. The brown eyed Mikaelson picked me up, carefully placing me on his toned arms as if I weighed nothing. “Thank you for coming back to me. I don’t what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, Kol.” A goofy sigh slipped. “I will always come back to you.”



Afterwards, a smirk still enlightening his traits, he stole a kiss from my lips. It was just a peck, yet, it made me feel warmer. Of course my guilt, self loathing, hate, the whole package, remained, nonetheless Kol managed to shake it all off, forcing me to concentrate on the present and, for now, that was all I needed.

anonymous asked:

Hiii! I'm the Anon who wrote that long message with the prompt request. Can I get 77 w/ Jungkook? Thx -Anon Gears (can I become a regular Anon??)

No Refunds (JungshOOK x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Um…somebody broke that.”

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he ruins a display you spent hours making. But he’s cute and adorably embarrassed, so you make the most out of the situation.

Word count: 1.3k words

Originally posted by a8ustd

You stared at the messy, unorganized space around you, wishing your shift would just end faster. The quaint art supply shop you worked in was rarely busy, let alone on a Wednesday afternoon. You took the job because you needed to fund your university career, plus you supported small businesses.

But your boss was scatterbrained and failed to inventory the store properly, leaving most of the mess to you. Plus, he always insisted on having beautiful window displays, so for the majority of your shift today, you slaved over creating a hanging paper sculpture.

A wave of origami pieces were suspended midair using fishing wire. The colours were pastel to match the spring weather outside. The whole thing was beautiful and terribly decorated, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the display was immediately destroyed.

Two boys around your age burst into the store, barely sparing you a glance from where you stood behind the cash register, as they chattered excitedly. You observed them openly, since you had nothing better to do. The one standing nearest to you was tall and well built, but had a babyish face–dramatically round eyes and pouty lips. His friend was even taller, and had surprisingly similar facial features.

“Dude, why are we even here? Can you even do art?” the taller one asked as he followed his friend through the tiny, messy aisles.

“The fuck, Yugyeom?” the other boy replied indignantly. “Haven’t you seen me draw before? I am the Art God.”

“Ok, buddy,” Yugyeom scoffed. “If you’re gonna buy something, hurry up. I have class in like, fifteen minutes.”

The two boys rounded the store, approaching the front once again. You held your breath as they neared the window display. The artist friend browsed through a marker display, testing a few on the sample pad below.

“Bro, these Copic markers cost more than me,” the boy sighed.

“There’s a pack here on sale,” his tall friend pointed out from a few feet away.

“No way!” he replied, spinning around excitedly.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as you watched the disaster unfold.

The boy whipped around, searching for the discounted pack of markers a few feet away from him. As he turned, he stepped back to get a better view of the aisle, completely disregarding the delicate display inches away from where he stood. His backpack got caught on several of the strings and origami sculptures. And as he turned quickly, he ripped them away, sending some of the paper sculptures flying across the store.

The pressure from the boy’s spin also caused the mount every single origami sculpture to collapse. You stared, oddly detached, as you watched your labour tumble to the ground with a loud crash.

The two boys froze, and the store was silent, save for the radio playing softly in the background.

Eventually, you stepped away from the cash register and approached the two boys, who both were staring wide-eyed at the broken display.

“Jungkook, you idiot,” Yugyeom hissed, his eyes darting in between you and the broken window display. “You fucker.”

“So, what happened here?” you asked pleasantly, trying to dispel the burning rage inside you.

“Um…somebody broke that,” Jungkook replied in a tight voice, a fiery blush blooming over his cheeks as he turned to look at you.

“I can see that,” you smiled.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jungkook blurted out, his eyes still comically wide. “Like I’m so sorry. I’ll pay–no I don’t have any money. I’ll help you fix it!”

You raised an eyebrow at this suggestion. “It took me five and a half hours to make that.”

“You made that!? Holy shit!” Jungkook explained, his expression worsening. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything. I’m not–I don’t–fuck! Just tell me what I can do.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “I still have a few hours left of my shift. I’ll just try to…repair what’s left.”

“I swear I can help!” Jungkook cried–although it sounded more like a wail. “I feel so bad about this!”

Normally, you wouldn’t really consider making a customer stay back and help clean up the mess they made. But this customer–Jungkook, apparently–seemed legitimately apologetic and inappropriately guilty. Plus, you just realized he was incredibly good looking and didn’t want to turn down the company.

“Well, if you insist,” you replied. “Let me grab the origami paper. Better prepare for an incredibly boring next two hours.”

“You two have fun,” Yugyeom said, slowly backing away from the mess. “I have class. Jungkook, don’t fuck up more than you already have.”

“Amen,” you muttered, as you walked down a few aisles to locate the cheapest origami paper pack you had.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry!” Jungkook cried, watching his friend who slipped out of the store as quickly as he could. Soon, the store was quiet again, the atmosphere tense. When you returned with your hands full, Jungkook was staring at the ground, his cheeks still flushed.

You tossed him a pack of origami paper, which he fumbled to catch. His eyes darted back up.

“Look,” he began, pausing to peer at your name tag. “Y/N. I’m really, really sorry. I feel really bad about destroying your art.”

“Honestly, I don’t really have any emotional attachment to a window display I made in two minutes’ notice,” you laughed. “Just help me make a few origami sculptures, and we’ll be even.”

So, for the rest of your shift, you and Jungkook hunched over the cash, deftly folding origami paper into pretty little shapes. Surprisingly, Jungkook was quite skilled and didn’t need any instructions. While you worked, you exchanged little tidbits of information about each other.

Turns out, you both attended the same university. Jungkook was a year under you–studying business–and roomed with a few friends nearby.

He sang along quietly to the radio while you worked (“You have a beautiful voice,” you had said to him. After spluttering and blushing terribly, he replied, “Thank you. I’m minoring in music, actually.”).

When the next employee came to take over, they eyed the impromptu workstation you had set up suspiciously.

“This kid destroyed the display, so he’s helping rebuild it,” you explained. “But I’m done here, and so is he. So I’ll leave the rest to you.”

And so you shed your smock and your name tag and promptly scurried out of the store with Jungkook on your heels.

“Is it okay to leave the display like that?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“It’s fine. Plus that guy was late to his shift last week, and I had to stay behind for an extra hour,” you said, feeling a little petty. “Thanks for your help, Jungkook. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah, see you,” he said, sending you an adorable smile that revealed his bunny teeth. And so you parted ways.

You were working the following Wednesday. And like every other Wednesday afternoon, the store was empty. But a few hours before your shift ended, the door chimed as a customer walked in. Your head shot up–you definitely weren’t dozing off–and your eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook waltzing into the store.

“Hi,” he said with a small smile. Jungkook walked right up the cash and leaned against the edge of the counter. The muscles of his arms bulged as he did so, and you were fairly certain that it was on purpose. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, your curiosity piquing.

“I was looking for something, and I think you have it. I want a date,” Jungkook said, blushing faintly, “with you. You and me–a date. Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” you smiled. “No refunds or exchanges. This is final sale.”

“I’ll take it,” Jungkook laughed, his face illuminated with a wide smile.

These days, Jungkook helped you make the window displays for fun. Turned out, he actually did have a knack for art. Your boss was seriously considering hiring Jungkook, but you dissuaded him from doing it. After all, you’d rather have Jungkook all to yourself.

- Girl in Luv

That’s it! Thanks for requesting!!!! And yes, be our regular anon, that’s so cute (and sorry this took us like 5 years to get to omg). If you’re wondering why my characters are always cashiers, it’s because I work part-time as one lmao. I was feeling some awkwardly cute JK. Hope you guys enjoyed. Thanks for reading 🤓

Whatever It Takes - Part One

so, after many jokes about Lin being pregnant and death wishes, @buckybarneshairpullingkink and i finally present part one :)

Summary: SingleDad!Lin x Reader

Length: 1,904 words

Warnings: None

Tagged: @masophistic @huffleheyguys @angerybisexual @consumed-by-musicals @aham-threw-his-shot-away @meyers-princess @fangirlwithasweettooth @alexis-the-zombie @linmanuclmiranda @hamilsnavi @nesthemonster @always-blame-jefferson @manuelmiranduh @hamilsquad-writings @yayhamletnonstop @theseedshamiltonplanted @the-and-peggy @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens @god-damn-it-miranda @auliicavralho @daintyhibiscus

apologies and please shoot me a message if i forgot to tag you!

prologue || reviews fuel us <3

The apartment looked strangely daunting with nothing in it. Where everything once had its place, there is now nothing: the coffee table - a moving-in gift from your mother - had been sold, alongside the couch and the bed, the fridge sold, and all your groceries that had once sat inside lined up on the kitchen counter. Even your dying house plant had been thrown away that very morning, despite your long-time love for the greenery. The entire place felt as though it had been gutted, hollowed out. This was your home for nine years. Now, you stood in a place you no longer recognised.

You sighed. On the counter, partially hidden beneath the insuperable mountain of groceries, your phone lit up with a series of new text messages. Since you’d called three months earlier to announce to your family that you’d be returning home, your mother hadn’t left you alone on the subject. You knew she only wanted to help, but endless phone calls and text messages offering you ideas of what to do with your leftover furniture and belongings were erring on the edge of annoying.

Still, no matter how lonesome the apartment felt, you couldn’t get over the idea of returning home. In a few weeks, someone new would find themselves settled between these walls, and you would be at home, telling tales of your adventures to all those you hadn’t seen in however-many-years.

Excitement bubbled and rose. You could almost forget about the dismissal of your house plant and the loss of your small, albeit comfortable, English home.

With one final scan over the place, you placed your suitcases by the door. Most of your heftier possessions had already been shipped back to America, where they would sit in the spare room of your parents’ house until you found a decent place to live. Tomorrow, when you flew out, you’d take with you only your clothes and bare necessities. Tonight would be a night slept on a borrowed air mattress.

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Title: Sleep With Me

Pairing: Sherlolly

Word Count: 1880

Rating: K/G

Summary: When Sherlock offered the sleepy pathologist his bed he really hadn’t intended on joining her…

[On Ao3] [On FF.Net]

An amused smirk twitched at one corner of Sherlock’s lips as he watched Molly fail in her attempt to stifle a yawn.

“Why don’t you just stop fighting it and go to sleep?”

“’m fine,” Molly mumbled around another uncontainable yawn.

“I’m not Rosie, you know,” Sherlock snapped mildly. “I’m not an infant. You do not have to keep an eye on me every second.”

Molly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, either in contemplation or to bite back a retort, Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure.

“Well, maybe… Maybe I will just kip here for a bit.” She put aside the book she had been reading and stretched out on the sofa, wriggling around for a moment to find a comfortable position.

“You can use my bed,” Sherlock offered, distractedly plucking at the strings of his violin. “You’ll be much more comfortable.”

Molly’s head popped up, her eyes slightly wide. “W-what about you?”

Sherlock huffed. “I highly doubt I will be doing any sleeping tonight.”

“Oh. Then maybe I should stay up and keep you company,” Molly purposed, looking unsure about leaving Sherlock on his own even if she would just be in the next room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sherlock dismissed. “There’s no need for the both of us to lose sleep. Especially when you’re tired and I’m not. I’ll be fine.”

Molly sighed. “Okay. If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Molly hauled herself up from the sofa and crossed the room. “Don’t hesitate to wake me if you feel any urges.”

Sherlock arched his brows at her.

“Oh you know what I mean,” Molly huffed, rolling her eyes, trying to appear exasperated, but the touch of pink tinting the tips of her ears gave away her embarrassment.

Sherlock smiled. “Yes. Will do, Molly. Goodnight.”

Molly sighed. “Night, Sherlock.”

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Coffee taste (m)

Characters: Min Yoongi & You

Genre: fluff, smut (just a prolonged foreplay though)

Summary:  As in what happens when you disturb your boyfriend late at night in his studio uninvited and try to lure him home.

Warnings: mild dirty talk and light sexual content

Words: 2963

I blame my late night conversation with @taetaeby about sweets, coffee and Yoongi.

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Consequence | Confession Part 2

Originally posted by dylanobrienbaby

A/N: Well… I tried. There’s not much to say except I really don’t love this. I re-wrote the whole thing six times over and this is the reincarnation I hate the least and I can’t write it again or I’ll go insane. So, here it is, and I hope you like it more than I do. (M’srry)

Summary: Everything has a consequence, it all depends on what you do that determines whether it will be worth while, or a mistake.

Word count: 3,881

Warnings: Nothing really, you’re safe.

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Come back... Be here

Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Originally posted by admireforever


A/N: I have been wanting to write this for an insane amount of time and yestereday the words just slipped, like it was truthfully meant to be written. I’m hoping you will like this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please give me some response, okay? I don’t kill me if you cry. I did too.

A huge thank you to my piggie @dylan-trash-tbh for reading this and telling me to post it. Love ya.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of sex, alcohol, cursing. that’s all. plus, it has been on Taylor Swift’s song “Come back… Be here”, so if you want to listen while reading… It would be nice. 

Word Count: 4760

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Blank Canvas

The grass is cold underneath me, and I can only imagine how much worse its going to become. There’s birds up above, high in the trees and looking down on Justin and I as we lay in the garden.

“Okay,” he mutters. It’s the first time either of us has spoken in a while so it causes me to jump in surprise. “Take off your shirt and lie on your stomach, please,” he grins.

“How romantic,” I say as my T-shirt is travelling over my stomach, my chest, my neck and finally, is released from my body completely. The harsh wind breathes heavily onto my skin and I can already see the goosebumps forming; creating mountains all over my body.

Laying down on my stomach, the cold only worsens but I don’t complain. My nipples are being attacked by the grass which is almost wet due to how frosty the early January air is, I have to hold back a gasp when it feels knives against me.

“Thank you for doing this,” Justin says as he rummages through his bag. “I’ve dreamed of doing this ever since I met you.”


“Mhm.” He’s not looking at me, but at the multiple paint brushes - all of them ranging from small to large - while, I’m assuming, trying to choose which would be best to put to use. “It’s like putting art upon art.”

I don’t say anything; I’m secretly touched deeply by his words that I’m sure any words that leave my lips won’t be comprehendible, or of any relevance. Because of this, I merely wait for his next move.

“I’m not too sure what I’m gonna do yet, I’ll just see how it goes.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s beautiful. I love your art.’

Looking at Justin, I could no longer see the full proportions of his face. Although, I could see a slight hint of pink creeping up his neck and I’m sure he was trying to hold back a big grin. I’m already aware Justin’s artwork means a lot to him, but seeing him getting so flustered over a compliment it receives makes it beautifully obvious. I smirk before turning back around.

“Okay, here we go,” he says and I feel him straddle my legs. I tangle my arms together and rest my head in the centre of them. It’s peaceful and I let myself appreciate the soft wind and the chirping birds.

I close my eyes when I feel the tip of Justin’s paintbrush grazing my shoulder blades. The sensation sends shivers down my spine and causes the hairs on my neck to stand to attention; as though a group of people have had their names called in unison and they all rise together. Following this, a feeling that resembles one of drops of water being released onto my back, and then it gliding through the dips and curves, sets through my skin. My eyes become heavy.

“Is that okay?” Justin whispers and it causes me to stir. I nod and hum in response. “Let me know if it gets uncomfortable or anything.”

“It’s relaxing,” I sigh and reposition my head in my arms. The movements the paintbrush is making seems a lot more confident now, meaning it’s pressing harder onto my skin, letting me feel every bristle that swipes across my skin.

I’m unaware how long it takes for Justin to complete the art he’s creating on back because I drift off ever so slightly; allowing the tingles and the cool of the paint to help me drift off into a light slumber. In fact, they’re helping me with so much triumph that I notice when they come to halt. The sudden feeling of nothing makes me stir.

“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” I hear Justin say, and a throaty chuckle follows directly behind. “Nice nap?”

“It was lovely, actually,” I grin but I know he can’t see it. I lean onto my elbows and rub my eyes with the palms of my hand; a burning sensation buzzes through them for a few seconds before I open them once more. “Are you done?”

He sighs. “I think so. I’m not sure how I feel about it right now, but I guess, yeah, it’s done.”

Justin climbs off of me and proceeds to help me stand by holding his hand out for me to take. I let my own slide into it with appreciation and I’m pulled to my feet in a matter of seconds; the grass is cold against the bottom of my feet.

I’m very aware of the fact that my chest is open to Justin’s eyes. I notice they burn bright as, for only a few seconds, they admire and relish in the sight, but out of, what I’m sure is politeness, Justin quickly averts his eyes to my face and gives me a warm smile.

“Let’s go inside, you must be freezing,” Justin says while resting his hand against my bare back, it does nothing but make shivers run over my body because they’re as cold as icicles. I try not to flinch away from his touch.

Walking through the back door and into the kitchen, I speed up once into the warmth of the house, partly because the cold was becoming too much to bare but also because I’m eager to see the final result of Justin’s idea.

“You wanna go upstairs and look at it?” Justin asks but by the time he’s finished his sentence, I’m already jogging towards the stairs. I can hear his laugh fading out as I move further up the stairs and closer to the bedroom. My anticipation is mixing with a dash of nervousness now.

My bedroom has closet with a mirror doing the job of the door of it, so as I walk in I’m instantly able to see my reflection, my next move is to turn around. I hesitate, but manage to do it eventually.

What I can see over my shoulder causes me to let out the tiniest puff of air. There’s a mix of reds, yellows, oranges and blues, all swirling together to create something breathtaking. It takes my eyes  a few seconds to adjust to the patterns Justin has created, but they’ve seen the art and now, they don’t want to look away.

“What do you think?” Justin’s voice echoes through the room, at least, it sounds like it does; I’m unsure. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Justin,” I breathe out, still looking at it as though it’s going to begin dancing for me, or something of the sort.

“I started by drawing little patterns across your shoulder blades; you can see them there,” he drew an invisible line that felt like a feather across my back because of his little pressure he put upon it, “but then I decided I wanted to draw a sunset, which you can see there,” and again, his pointer finger flutter across my lower back. “But then, I decided to paint this little otter; I don’t know why,” he muttered.

Even though there was multiple little pieces of art, they all seemed to blend and compliment each other; the blues - while contrasting prominently with the reds - somehow seemed to shift knowingly from a bright evening sky to a winding pattern that was almost snake-like, as though it knew the one job it must complete. The baby otter with its dark brown fur lay floating in a swirl of glittering blue water.

“You’re so talented. I love them,” I whisper, continuing to stare in awe. I almost don’t notice Justin coming up in front of me, so I jump when I feel his hands on my bare waist.
“You make my art even more beautiful. I want to use you as a blank canvas all the time.” His hands are warm, warmer than my own, and they create little patches of heat on my skin and attempts to fill the entire surface of my body.

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, Justin had laid me down onto the bed sitting quietly in the centre of the room, and began to leave hot kisses down my neck. We spent a long period of time there; sweating, panting, moaning and grunting like wild animals. We would stop every now and then to catch our breath and even when we’d insist on that being the last time we collapsed and fell apart, our hands would somehow find each other’s bodies once more and we’d fall back into a rhythm that became so familiar.

Justin loves to create art, his reasoning being that it acts as an escape and it fills him with a sense of being that almost nothing else can replicate, at least that’s what he told me when I asked. That night, Justin created two pieces of art - one being intentional, the other being totally unpredicted. As I writhed beneath him, throwing my legs around his torso while his hands gripped my hips, I failed to remember the paint covering my back.

As we rose from the bed, hours later with dishevelled hair and sweat-coated bodies, the bedsheets on which we laid became, just like I had, a blank canvas for yet another piece of artwork. The colours merged mercilessly, the blues and reds had blended into a deep purple and the reds and yellows; orange. Instead of the otter, there was a large smear of faded brown that looked out of place with all the bright colours.

Justin seemed satisfied with the outcome and I caught him staring at it for just a few moments longer than I had. I could see the familiar satisfaction in his eyes while a small smile matched the redness of his cheeks.

Ephemeral [1]

(adj.) - lasting a very short time; short lived 

Member: Namjoon 

Genre: Angst, some sort au that is tbd, romance(?) 

Words: 1.5k 

Summary: There is a man in your dreams. You don’t know what he looks like or what his name is - you only know the sound of his voice. His voice. His voice follows you where ever you go. These dreams are your only source to see him, yet these dreams feel so real. 

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is my new series, Ephemeral. I know I’ve kinda left things on a bad note with Fernweh as I took it down, but hopefully you will enjoy this series. I feel much better now and I have a good feeling about this story. I hope you guys enjoy Xx 

[ two ] [ three ] [ four ] [five] [ six ]

Originally posted by nelliel66

“Don’t be afraid Y/N—“

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Losing My Mind

Lance feels like he is losing his mind.  Everywhere he looks there are reminders of what once was and he can’t seem to get him out of his mind.

I really hurt myself when I wrote this story, the pain and suffering that I felt when I was listening to Jeremy Jordan’s version of Losing my mind from Follies inspired me to write this.  I just let the lyrics talk to me and help guide my hand as I wrote. 

On a bit of a sadistic note, I do hope I at least made one person cry as honestly I am trying to improve my writing style to make my readers really feel the emotions that the characters are feeling.  Hit me up with a comment with what you thought!

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One and The Same (a Jacksepticeye + egos AU) - Chapter 1

Inspired by this post: https://spiffanywolfe.tumblr.com/post/164268117693/i-made-up-a-backstory-for-jack-and-his-egos

The first chapter is here! And I finally came up with a decent name! I’m so determined to finish this I swear to god!

Oh, and thanks Jack for creating a new ego on the EXACT DAY I start writing this…Oh well, I got Zombie Jack (aka. Jack from the PUBG thumbnail) in here anyway. I don’t know if he’ll appear again since I don’t really know how to fit him in but…oh well. Enjoy!

I just found out the new ego’s name is apparently Robbie. No idea why but…ok? Still don’t know if I’ll include him in this. I’ll find a place to put him somewhere. *** p>

Chapter 1 - The Escape

Jacksepticeye awoke to the sound of screaming.

He opened his eyes slowly and was met with the harsh white lights that illuminated his cell. Turning his head groggily to the side to avoid blinding himself, he saw the white walls and white tiled floor that made up the room that had been his home for about a month now.

Suddenly, a large BANG echoed though the building, shaking the room and causing white specks of plaster to fall from the ceiling. Jack sat up in fright, all grogginess from the anesthetic forgotten.
“What the fuck-“ he stopped when he saw the door to his cell was wide open. He could see the corridor outside. Jack rubbed his eyes. The scientists always said the anesthetic they used on subjects was known to cause hallucinations. Maybe this was another one.

When he opened his eyes, there was a figure in the doorway. He wore a white doctor’s coat, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat thinking it was one of the scientists. But this scientist had a blue t-shirt on under the coat, glasses, a blue face mask and hat and the same bright green hair as Jack.
“Jack!” Dr. Schneeplestein cried, running into the room and hauling Jack out of the cot he had been sleeping in, “Ve need to get to of here! Come on!!”
“Wh-what?” Jack stammered as Schneeple carried him out of the room. The grogginess from the antithetic had made a comeback. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“After ze scientists knocked you out vith ze anesthetic, zer vas a massive system failure across all the computer systems,” Schneeple explained with his thick german accent as they staggered though the building. Red lights flashed, drowning the corridors and room in red and sirens pierced the silence. “Everyzing went down! Lights, computers, everyzing! Zhey put everyone in zheir cells as ze cell doors vere ze only thing zat vas not affected, and zhey managed to fix some of the lights, but zhen all cell doors failed allowing everyone to run free! So ve’re escaping!” Schneeple continued. Jack staggered after the doctor, stunned. They were…escaping? He had given up hope of being rescued or escaping ages ago. He’d tried to escape once before when he was first kidnapped by them, and all he’d got out of it was a broken nose. Could it really be second time lucky?

As they turned the corner, they were met with another man. He also looked exactly like Jack - green hair, blue eyes - but he was wearing a red spandex suit and was looking at them through a blue mask.
“Schneeale!” Jackaboy Man shouted over the sirens.
“I’ve got Jack! Go! Go!” Schneeple urged. The three of them ran through the building, Jack still trying to make sense of everything. Everything around him was moving too fast. He couldn’t keep up. He caught a glimpse of white coated bodies strewn all over the floor of the corridors they were running through. They didn’t appear to be dead though, just unconscious.
“Vhere are Chase and Marvin?!” Schneeple demanded.
“They’re waiting at the entrance for us!” Jackaboy replied. As they passed the main Lab, where Jack and the other clones the scientists had made of himself had spent multiple painful hours strapped to tables and tortured, Jack heard a voice cry out above all the noise.
Jack stopped dead, backtracking to look into the room. Panic settled in at a mere glance of the operating table, but he fought through it and went into the room.
“Jack, what are you doing?!” He heard Jackaboy shout from the corridor. Jack ignored it and looked round the room.
“Someone get me out of here!”
Jack looked towards the source of the voice and was met with a computer screen. Unlike the other computers scattered around the room, this one was on. On the screen was another Jack look-alike, although this one was glitching around the screen in panic and anger. He had pitch black eyes that seemed to burn with fury and a small red line across his neck that was oozing blood, despite it being impossible for a computer program to have blood.
“Anti!” Jack cried, leaning close to the screen.
“Jack!” Antisepticeye replied, “Get me out of this fucking computer program! I can’t stay here! Those assholes are going to pay for what they did to me! Get me out!”
The computer screen was struggling to handle Anti being inside it. It kept glitching to black, then coming back on, then glitching back to black again.
“Um…um…” Jack stammered, looking round the room for something to help, “Hang on…I-I can help! Hang on…”
“Vhat are you doing?!” Schneeple said, Jack noticing for the first time that he and Jackaboy were in the room.
“We need to get Anti out of there!” Jack shouted, the sirens piercing his ears.
“What?! No!” Jackaboy said, “He’s dangerous! We can’t set him free! He’s better off here!”
“I am not leaving him here!” Jack shouted, still frantically searching for something, even though he had no idea what he was looking for, “He’s one of us, whether you like it or not! He deserves to escape as much as the rest of us!”

He turned back to the screen and stared into Anti’s eyes for a moment, thinking. Eventually, he walked up to the screen.
“Anti, I think the only way to let you out is…um…to possess me,” Jack said.
“No! No, no, no!” Schneeple said, walking over to Jack and dragging him away from the screen, “I vill not let you do zhis! I refuse!”
“Well, do you have any better ideas?!” Jack snapped.
“If he possesses you, he’ll kill you!” Jackaboy said, “Don’t you remember what happened to the last clone he possessed?! He was reduced to nothing more than a pile of skin and bones!”
Jack remembered the incident well. There had once been a sixth clone created from Jack’s conscience, though Jack couldn’t quite remember what part of his conscience that clone was a personification of. Shortly after the clone was created, it went haywire, attacking the scientists and destroying practically everything. Its eyes had been completely white, and its skin turned a sickly grey colour with large black bags under its eyes. Once the scientists managed to hold the clone down, it had dropped dead. It was later discovered that Anti had possessed the clone and the strain of the possession had mutated the clone, eventually ending in its death. In a desperate attempt to stop Anti from causing any more damage, the scientists managed to lock Anti in a computer program. And now, he was here in the computer, staring back at Jack with black, menacing eyes.
“Wow…” Anti said in response to Jackaboy, “Do you really think that low of me? That time was just…a test. I know what I’m doing now. Jack will not be harmed, I promise.”

Suddenly, a scientist entered the room. Everyone froze for a moment, until the scientist bolted back out, screaming, “THEY’RE HERE! THE SUBJECTS ARE HERE!”
“Fuck…” Schneeple said, “Jack, we have to go. Now!!”
Jack looked back to the screen.
“Ready, Anti?”
Anti smiled.
“Of course.”
Jack placed his hand on the screen and almost immediately felt a shock run down his arm. He gasped as pain shot though his body. The computer screen flickered, trying to hold onto what little life it had left, before shutting down for the last time.

Jack staggered back, collapsing to the ground. His vision was blurring, Schneeple and Jackaboy becoming nothing but shapes and colours, their muffled cries swimming around him. He barely heard the sound of the scientists entering the room over another voice now speaking in his mind.

“Leave these guys to me, Jack…you just sleep…”

CHAPTER 2 - https://spiffanywolfe.tumblr.com/post/164367017463/one-and-the-same-a-jacksepticeye-and-egos-au

anonymous asked:

felix felicis and javid??? just thought it might be an interesting concept!!

Okay I know they cancelled the Triwizard Tournament after Cedric died so either pretend they didn’t or pretend this is the same Ball as that one, idk….

“It’s in two days, Davey, you gotta ask someone,” Sarah reasoned.

Davey childishly put his hands over his ears. He really, really didn’t want to hear about how he didn’t have a date to the Yule Ball yet. It was the talk of Hogwarts and he wasn’t allowed to forget it.

Sarah knew there was someone in particular he wanted to ask and she was determined for her little brother to have a great evening, which he definitely wouldn’t be doing if he was sat moping around for the duration of the ball. She wasn’t about to let him stare at Jack all evening without so much as asking him for a dance, and asking him would be far easier if they went together in the first place.

“Who are you going with then?” he asked, trying to make a point. As far as he was aware she didn’t have a date either.

Sarah just laughed. “Katherine Plumber.”
“You’re taking the head girl?!” Davey asked, surprised.

Shrugging it off like it wasn’t a big deal, Sarah forced the conversation back to her brother.

“Ask him, Davey. You know he hasn’t got anyone to go with yet – maybe he’s waiting for the right person…”

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Wander with Me | JUNMYEON

Genre: college!au | so fluffy i am decaying

Member: Junmyeon / Reader

Word Count: 1,300+

Warnings: too soft

NOTE: this college!exo series is heavily inspired by THIS amazing edit by @pcyults. i’m sorry if this doesn’t accurately represent junmyeon, i’ve written one fic for exo and that was yonks ago, so this is me trying to get into the swing of things again.

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How To Stop A Panic Attack

Summary: A Supernatural AU. Dean and the Reader are in the same first year mathematics class. The Reader, who is struggling in the class, is assigned a tutor, Dean. As the two spend a significant amount of time together in close quarters, the Reader begins to develop feelings for Dean. However, the Reader believes this is just another unrequited love. Could the Reader be proven wrong when she is trapped in an elevator cabin during a storm with none other than Dean?

Pairing: Student!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4,944

Warnings: Detailed description of a panic attack. Read at your own risk.

Gif Credit: [x]

A/N: This is probably poorly edited, so if I have any mistakes, feel free to tell me about them and I’ll try to correct them when I have the time. Requests are open, and so is my tag list. If you’d like to submit a request or want to be added to my tag list, please send me an ask. Thank you.

Please do not post any of my work on any other websites. Thank you.

Feedback of any kind is welcome and highly encouraged.

Thank you for taking the time to read my writing.


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A/N: Soooo, I did a thing. I just finished reading American Assassin(Dylan’s potential new movie) and I was inspired. I know this is a little different then the norm. But I promise it’ll be worth it. Also, I want to put in a

WARNING: (which I don’t do usually, but need to for this particular imagine): This implies gun use and blood, and also talks about terrorist and mistreatment of women. I wouldn’t recommend this if you are easily triggered. Again, this is based off the book American Assassin, and all that is what the book involves. And my usual warning, I have proof read this BUT it is late so it’s not perfectly perfect. I’m going to try to have workspace up by Tuesday, before anyone asks. (: So with that said, love ya babes.

He sat in the very back corner booth of the diner, holding his white porcelain coffee mug with one hand as he gazed out of the large window that over looked the bustling street outside. He’s been there most of the morning, just sitting, drinking, and gazing. Terry was attentive to him, refilling his coffee every so often without him asking. He acknowledged her with a polite nod of his head and perfunctory smile. It was obvious that he was American. Although he’d gone to great lengths to appear otherwise. His skin was tanned, not from a tanning bed but more from being somewhere that saw a lot of sun. Like Africa or here, in the Middle East. His hair was a faded black, revealing that it wasn’t his natural colour. He was handsome, very handsome now that I looked at him longer. His eyes stood out against his tawny complexion. Even from behind the bar style counter where I stood cleaning, I could see them. They were a warm yellowish brown, an unusual colour. One that I’ve definitely never seen before. He took another sip of coffee without looking away from the window. I watched him until he set the mug back down on the dark wood table. I stretched my neck across the counter to get a better view of the window. I couldn’t see anything worth looking at. There were merchants outside selling goods, and tiny cars driving along dirt ridden roads. But nothing else that warranted such attention.


“Order up!” Marvin sang from the kitchen as he slid a plate of eggs and bacon through the serving window.

“Where’s it going, Marv?” I asked, grabbing the plate and balancing on my hand.

“Uhh, table…three.” He read off the receipt he’d just pulled from the few others that hung on his side of the window.

Table three? That was the mystery man. I never saw Terry take his order.

“Table three?” I questioned looking over my shoulder at the man who still hadn’t moved.

Marv nodded absentmindedly as he flipped a burger on the flattop.

“But I don’t know if he-”

“Look girl, he’s been sittin’ there for five hours with nothin’ but coffee ta drink. The kid could use a meal.” His accent was thick as he spoke. It was a strange sound hearing a Turkish man feign a southern American accent.

I asked no more questions as I headed over to the mysterious stranger in his back corner. As I came closer to him, I noticed his slight muscular build. He was wearing a short sleeve olive green v-neck that accentuated his muscly arms and was tight around his pectorals. He couldn’t have been more than twenty two or twenty three, but he looked more aged then that. Especially with his facial hair. He had a landscaped scruff that didn’t quite qualify as a beard. Again, I admired how handsome he was: all tan, muscles, and peculiar.

I made it to the table and set down the plate the glass hitting the hard wood with a knock.

“Bacon and eggs.” I announced triumphantly with a smile.

“I didn’t order that.” He said curtly, his eyes never leaving the glass plane.

“Oh, I-I know. I, um, well Marv told me to-”

“Thanks.” He interrupted my stumbling with same shortness of his tone.

Jeez, what a jerk! I thought to myself.

“Okay?” I frowned and turned to walk away.

Americans! They’re so rude. Which is why I left the place. I hadn’t meant to end up in Turkey, more specifically Istanbul, it just happened. My father had spent most of his adult life in the military, so I was no stranger to packing up a leaving at a drop of a hat. We lived in Istanbul for about three weeks before we moved to England. But I never forgot this place. It was rustic and old, but rich with history. In school you learn about the wonders of Paris and Rome. Somehow, though, we are deprived of places like Budapest and Istanbul.

I rounded the corner of the bar reentering it and grabbed the towel I was once using to clean the counter. I ducked under to grab a bottle filled with soap and water. When I reemerged, I snuck a quick glance at the rude stranger. Terry was refilling his cup once again but as I exited the bar to clean empty tables, I noticed her lingering. I tried not to stare, failing miserably. She was there for a few seconds longer before leaving, stuffing two or three fifty dollar bills in her apron a smile adorning her face. She walked past me raising her eyebrows at me, and I knew that meant she’d tell me later.

I shook my head and smiled at the older women. She always got the best tips, but never that much. Was this stranger some sort of millionaire? I dared another glance at the man. This time I could see him without hindrance, but strangely his eyes were fixed in my direction. It was surprising and unsettling. Meer minutes before that guy was dismissing me, now his eyes were trained on me. Assessing me. He was still too far to see exactly what he was looking at in regards to me, but before I could act his head whipped back to the window. He examined the outside for a whole second, leaned in closer, and finally seeing what he’d been looking for all morning. He scooted from his booth and exited the diner, the little bell above the door ringing as he did. I walked to the window quickly after him to see what he’d seen, but nothing looks different. Same street merchants, same little cars. I search for the mysterious man, but he was gone. I couldn’t help feel a pang of sadness in my gut. He was handsome and young, two things we didn’t get in this tiny diner very often. Hell, in Istanbul even. I sighed, scolding myself for not having more game or sense for that matter.

I moved from the window to his table clearing it of its remains, when I noticed a small piece of paper folded underneath his plate of untouched bacon and eggs. I unfolded it and read the scribbled handwriting:

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?

I reread the note a couple more times. I was familiar with the Edgar Allen Poe quote, but I couldn’t understand the significance of this particular quote. This man was mysterious. I turned the note over to the back. On it was an address,

Suada, Galatasaray Adası, Kuruçeşme

Suada was a popular night club in Istanbul. It was the Paris of night clubs. Very prominent people attended this club. The rich, the powerful, and the dangerous. I’d gone often here with friends but they usually left with some of said rich, powerful, dangerous men. I wasn’t as easy though. That lifestyle did not appeal to me. Suada did have the best music in the city it just so happens. Which is the only reason I’ve continued to go back.

I looked over my shoulder and out the window once again. Maybe he’d be there. Maybe I could have another chance at talking to him.

“Here.” Terry said making me jump. I whirled my head to her and she had a fifty dollar bill in her hand extended toward me. I met her eyes with confusion ridden on my face.

“That guy told me to give this to you.” She smirked with a shrug.

“But I barely helped him.”

She shook her head at me. “He told me specifically to give this to you. Said that you were very kind to him.”

What the fuck?

I took the bill from her, baffled.

Terry walked away, a noticeable spring in her step. I turned my attention back to the fifty crumbled in my hand. I had a friend once that used to have this saying, ‘Twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.“ That saying resonated with me.

1. Him staring
2.His note he left with the address
3. The fifty dollar bill

I might just be imagining it, but those seemed a lot like reasons to go tonight. It was a pattern directing me to him. I rolled my eyes at the thought. There’s no way this hot guy, who could have anyone mind you, would be so cryptic in asking me out on a date. But, as I thought more about it I decided it couldn’t hurt just to see, right?

And then my mind was made,

I would go to Suada tonight.

Per usual, the place was crowed. Along the walls were boothed seating areas where the rich and powerful set up for the night. They were mostly very big hairy Turkish and Islamic men with skinny desperate girls in too small dresses on either side of them. The middle of all that was the dance floor, where people like me populated. There was a large bar upstairs, that could be seen from down below. It was a dimly lit place with occasional wall lighting but mostly strobe lights and dancing coloured lights.

I spotted him upstairs from where I stood on the dance floor, leaning against railing surrounding the bar. He was wearing a leather jacket with a black shirt underneath and dark wash jeans. His hair was styled in a messy way, which actually made him look a lot more put together then he did earlier. I saw a drink in his hand with a clear liquid, but I had an inkling there wasn’t alcohol in the glass. I pushed my way through the hot and compact sea of bodies to the stairs just off the left. I climbed up my heels clanking against the metal incline. He was still in the same position as I approached him. I stood next to him, also leaning against the cool steel of the rails supporting myself on my forearms.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He said before taking another swig from his glass.

I smiled. “I found so many reasons to come.”

“You don’t say?” He replied sardonically.

I looked over at him and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips that he tried to hide with another tip of his drink. Like before in the diner, his eyes were trained on something. It looked as if he was looking at the dancers below but his expression told otherwise. He was focused and systematic, eyebrows furrowed.

“You look good.” He said still not looking at me.

I blushed knowing he wouldn’t really notice, but was determined to answer back wittily.

“Some hotshot tipped my fifty bucks today, so I thought I’d put it to good use.”

The mystery man laughed. A hearty genuine laugh, making me smile again.

“What’s your name?” I asked finally.

For some reason, this caught his attention and he turned his head to me, brows knitted together. He looked at me as if considering something then discarded the thought.

“Dan.” He said without hesitation, and I almost believed him. But something in the flatness of the tone and the obvious non-attachment to the name told me he was lying.

“Well Dan,” I started, my tone letting him know I did not for a second think that was actually his name. “Wanna dance?”

“I don’t really dance.” He said coolly, directing his attention back to the dance floor.

I was starting to get the impression I may have misinterpreted the so called messaged is thought he’d left for me. I mean the address told me he was most likely going to be here and the rest is just made up in my head. I took a long gaze at him wanting him to break the uncomfortable tension that was building up between us. When he didn’t, I took that as the signal to go. Embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how I felt at that moment and not want to bother ‘Dan’ any longer, I turned and headed for the bar to load up on the drinks I would undoubtedly need to drown how mortified I actually was.

I’m rocking my hips to the beat,





I can’t remember how I got here or for how long. I’m only aware of the thudding rhythm moving my body. My head feels heavy, and there’s only swirling faces around me twisting and meshing into each other. Suddenly though, I feel two big meaty hands on my waist. They move up and down, and then around to my backside. They seem to be one with my body at first, because I don’t notice them. They are an extension of myself. But I begin to remember where my own hands are and that the ones now gliding slowly to my breast, aren’t the ones connected to my wrists. I screw up my face in confusion watching the hands almost touch the underneath of my bosom, until I stop them. Clumsily, I turn around to see a man about my height with dark eyes and a crooked nose smiling at me. His long black beard matched his slick back hair, and he smelled of liquor, smoke, and obnoxious cologne. He says my name, but my drunken haze makes me unable to place him.

“It’s me,” he slurs. “Au Bu.”

I recall the name now. He’s a soldier with a Islamic terrorist ring. Something very common in here in Istanbul. He’s one of the higher ups. He’s always here at Suada, feeling up all the pretty girl. He waves money and expensive bottles of alcohol at them and they cave to his every whim. He’s tried on several accounts to sway me, but has always been unsuccessful.

Tonight is a very rare occasion where I’ve allowed myself, due to being an emotional girl, to become grossly inebriated. To my misfortune, it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Au Bu?” I copy, pretending not to recognise him. He’s stronger than me, and his hands have freed themselves from my grip and are wandering once again.

“Oh come now. You know who I am.” He says cockily.

I try but am unable to stop his hands.

“S-stop.” I stutter and my fear is sobering.

“Now now. You’ve denied me so many times. I think it’s time to change your mind.” One hand grazes my breasts before it races to my neck and clutches it tightly. My hands instantly reach up to claw at the hand around my throat. I’m coughing and gaging and my vision is darkening at the edges. You’d think in a crowded club, that someone might notice a girl being chocked unconscious by a big burly man. But in this town, woman that are not married are equal to dogs. Treated however, whomever sees fit. My lungs burn from lack of air, and I think I might pass out until suddenly I meet the ground, hitting it hard. My vision is just gradually becoming less cloudy. There’s a ringing in my ears that I hadn’t noticed before, but it’s fading. In my returning sight, I can see a swarm of people all heading for the door. A few people remain though all facing me. One of them is Au Bu, and he’s holding a long shiny object in his hands. I don’t understand what they’re doing or what they have pointed at me Then I squint, because I see a few steps in front of me are a set of legs. They are covered by dark jeans but I can see how lean they are despite being covered.

What happens next happens fast. Three bodies hit the floor, what I think is simultaneously but after a forethought I realize they were one right after the other. But they were hit quick, so quick it seemed to happening all at once. A dark liquid spills out from various points in each of their bodies. My head is screaming at me to move, to run. But I’m drunk and still recovering from being almost chocked out. I’m weak. My mind can not comprehend what’s happening or what it is I’m seeing. It yearns for rest and my eye lids are becoming heavy. The pair of legs in front of me are turning, now facing me. My stomach lurches, afraid I may receive the same fate as Au Bu and the other men. Warm hands curl under me and pull me up into strong arms. One is around my back and the other under my legs. I lazily wrap my arms around the neck of the stranger and nuzzle into their chest. It’s hard, but not uncomfortable. I inhale and smell cigarettes and mint. A tell tale sign of a smoker covering up the fact they smoke. I don’t recognise the smell, so I’m sure I don’t know this person. I can tell we’ve started walking because I can feel the slight bounce of my body with each step. I want to see my rescuer, to be sure he is in fact rescuing me. My sight is still blurry but some how through it, I can see a warm yellowish brown pair of eyes. It’s a very unusual colour. But one I’ve seen before.

I Love You, You Pay My Rent: Chapter Two

First Chapter (Prologue)

Previous Chapter (Chapter One)

Nico had been living with Will Solace for almost three days. In that time he’d broken Will’s washing machine, found out Will had an aversion to fortune cookies and, well not much else. Will spent a lot of time out of the apartment which kind of led Nico to question why Will even wanted anybody around unless Nico’s sole purpose was a live, moody burglar alarm. If that was Wil’s logic then he was going to be solely disappointed because Nico was pretty sure Nico would either manage to miss the burglary completely or be too busy hiding under the bed to fight the intruder off.

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