i think i'm going to make some more of these today i am so sorry

more texts for you bitches

ANGSTY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] You should have told me you wanted me out of your life.
[text] I should have never let you back into my life.
[text] Okay [muse’s name] what’s the deal, pretty sure this is you…listen if you want me to leave you alone, please just tell that.
[text] Please don’t walk away.
[text] Please don’t do this.
[text] When are you going to realize I want nothing to do with you?
[text] You want nothing to do with me, I get it.
[text] I’m an idiot. You fooled me again.
[text] When I think things are about to change … I’m always proven wrong.
[text] I just want you to be happy. And you’ll be happier without me.
[text] I just hate that someone could make me trust [him/her/them] the way that I did
[text] The truth is I’m not over you.
[text] The truth is I never really wanted to be with you.
[text] I’m seeing someone else.
[text] How the hell did you get my number, stalker?
[text] You’re so selfish.
[text] I just saw you leave with [her/him/them].
[text] FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMB CUTE FACE

LOVING TEXTS, BITCH

[text] Did I tell you today that you’re the most adorable? Cause, yeah.
[text] Be careful.
[text] I’m only saying it because I love you.
[text] I’m only saying it because I care about you.
[text] Okay, I’m bringing coffee.
[text] I’m thinking dinner and a movie later this week?
[text] Let me take you out, please?
[text] Let me make you dinner tonight.
[text] I want you to be happy.
[text] You’re always safe with me.
[text] I can’t stop thinking about you.
[text] I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.
[text] I know you may not feel like you are, but you are loved. And important. Please don’t forget that.
[text] It was so good seeing you.
[text] You don’t need this shit.
[text] I’ll be there in five minutes.
[text] Let me help, please?
[text] You’re important to me.
[text] Stop falling asleep in the bathtub. You’re going to drown and die and leave me and I’m not having that.
[text] I would gladly watch Netflix and eat Thai with you any day.
[text] I’d give up my phone charger AND the last piece of gum for you. That’s love.
[text] Hey beautiful no judgment but why is there a bucket of KFC chicken in the bathtub??

ANGRY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] If you don’t want me to bust your window, I suggest you answer the phone. Now.
[text] To quote Mean Girls, you’re a fugly slut.
[text] Are you SERIOUSLY bringing that up right now!?
[text] Lose my number, asshole.
[text] You’re so predictable and obnoxious. And it’s not only me who thinks so.
[text] …The least you could do is answer, wtf.
[text] You’re a piece of shit human being and an even worse friend.
[text] This is YOUR FAULT. And you can’t even pretend like it isn’t, because you know it is.
[text] Why couldn’t you just stay out of it?
[text] Holy fucking shit, take a hint, asshole.
[text] Go fuck yourself.
[text] What the fucking hell is wrong with you?
[text] You can take your stuff back as long as I don’t light it on fire first.
[text] I have cramps and a migraine so you do NOT want to mess with me right now
[text] Bye and have a very fuck you day

SEXY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] Just let me suck your dick and be happy. Let me have this.
[text] Why are you so hot…like honestly, it’s not fair.
[text] Yeah, you looked good in your [dress/shirt/pants] last night but really, they looked way better on my floor.
[text] Come over. With condoms.
[text] You should come over, clothing optional.
[text] I feel like a nasty slut and I LOVE IT
[text] Sorry I got drunk and texted you about my sex life
[text] Sex on a rooftop - trashy or adventurous?
[text] If you’re not at my apartment, shirtless, in five minutes, I will be personally offended.
[text] I don’t think he likes that I’m always sending him pictures of me in my bra but he needs to get it together
[text] It’ll be like The Notebook, except with way more of my penis.
[text] I didn’t know that all of his brothers would be hot and musically inclined, too. That’s a dick move on behalf of biology.
[text] I DON’T WANT YOUR DICK. I WANT BRUNCH.
[text] So is it your turn now to pretend like dating someone else would stop us from fucking?
[text] I just need some of your time and all of your body.
[text] I am available for nakedness
[text] I think about [him/her/them] when I masturbate so I guess you could call it love

DRUNK TEXTS, BITCH

[drunk text] So wat are you really over me no w
[drunk text] AND I UNFOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM TOO, BITCH
[drunk text] You are my queen and my savior and I love you forever
[drunk text] You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known
[drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like
[drunk text] Listen up slut, you’re one hot piece of ass and if [he/she/they] doesn’t realize it, it’s their loss
[drunk text] but what’s the point of a Disney sing off party if you’re not here. You have to be be the Pumbaa to my Timon
[drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight
[drunk text] FUCK YOU YOU’RE GORGEOUS
[drunk text] I think maybe you and me should like go out and eat pizza or something check yes or no
[drunk text] Please don’t hate me I’m too tired and too dizzy to be hated
[drunk text] I hate (him/her) but less when I’m drinking. Thanks, alcohol.
[drunk text] Omf g you need to get over here now I think I’m dyin
[drunk text] SWEEEEEEEET CAROLINE

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

Keep reading

an open letter to my body:

dear eyes,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry for thinking that the deep brown curious hue of your essence was every anything less than magical.
i’m sorry that my entire life your every cell has worked to let me see the beauty in the world, and all I’ve ever done is put you down.
and they say that you never know how beautiful brown eyes are until you’ve loved someone who has them,
but I should’ve loved myself first.
and for that I am sorry.

dear hair,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry for every time I resented the way you refuse to stay put, for believing that the best way to love you was to tame you.
i’m sorry for every time I drew hatred from your tangled tendencies, for every time I wanted to chop you down with an axe simply so that you were out of the way.
you are the part of me that dances in the wind, the part of me that grows fiercely and unapologetically.
and they say that if you love something you should leave it wild.
i’m sorry for not leaving you wild.

dear breasts,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry because you and I have fought a long, hard battle to get to where we are today.
i’m sorry for all the times I wished you were bigger, smaller, less saggy, more perky, more even, less loud.
you are the very essence of my womanhood, something that is fierce and tender and strong and brave and everything I take pride in.
i’m so sorry I ever treated you like anything less.

dear shoulders,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry that I hid you behind long sleeves and shame for all these years.
i’m sorry that something as small and insignificant as acne could make me forget your worth.
i’m sorry for every time i stood with you hunched over instead of standing tall with pride, because the scars that you carry are constellations,
and you are as big and ethereal as the sky.

dear thighs,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry for believing that you carried too much weight, that you were ever too large to be beautiful or sexy or wanted.
you are a mountain landscape,
protecting the valley inside with all your might and standing strong in the face of hurricanes.
you are so much more than I ever gave you credit for, and I should have wanted you all along.

dear feet,
i’m sorry.
i’m sorry for thinking you are anything less than resilient.
you have carried me to every point in my life, every up and down.
you have picked me up from every failure and the depths of hell itself.
you have never given up, even when I thought that I might.
you have stepped on glass and walked through fire to get me to where I am today, and I am forever grateful.

dear tummy,
I am so, so sorry.
i am sorry and ashamed for all the nights I cried myself to sleep because I thought you were not good enough,
I am sorry for every time I compared you, beat you down, sucked you in, tried to hide you.
I am sorry for every single time I even considered starving you.
you are where I felt the butterflies of my first love.
you expand when my voice needs to be heard.
you are the powerhouse that keeps me going, and I have treated you so, so, cruelly.
i’m sorry.

dear voice,
i am sorry.
i am sorry for all the times I let myself buy into the preconceived notion that you are not worth listening to.
i am sorry for every time i silenced you instead of letting you speak.
i am sorry for not singing more, speaking louder, yelling, screaming.
I am sorry that I ever thought I needed to hide you under my curtain of my fear of not being accepted.
you are powerful, and brave, and worth listening to.
you do not deserve to be caged, and I am sorry.

dear body,
i am sorry.
your every cell, every second of every minute of every day goes into keeping me alive.
you have loved me so well and so deeply, and I have been so blind to your worth.


I will never be able to repay you,

but I will start by choosing to love you.

sweeter than sugar (m)

Originally posted by life-ruiners

Words: 19,371.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Genre: Sugar daddy au + fluff, smut.

Summary: Jungkook comes to you with a proposition to give you money in return for your company and all you know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi so I absolutely adore the fics you've posted so far for bmc. It really brings to light the emotions of the characters and it's so well done. If it grabs your fancy, would you consider writing one where Jeremy becomes so delirious (from getting sick or a headache from the squip or something) that he spills all the self-deprecating things the squip told him to say to Michael? It would make my world if that existed, especially in your style of writing. <3

“Is Jeremy here today?” 

“Jeremy’s always Heere.” Michael says automatically without looking up from his phone. Where he is currently texting Jeremy. He’s almost forgotten that there are people actually around him when someone hits him across the back of his head. “Ow what the hell, Rich!

“Don’t even try, you brought that on yourself,” Rich says and the lisp does nothing to diminish the glare he’s got fixed on Michael. 

“If anything you brought that pun on yourself!” When Rich looks like he’s going to hit Michael again, or possibly punch him in the throat for better reach, Michael decides the safest thing is probably to just tell him what’s up. “Alright, yeah no, Jeremy stayed home today. I texted him this morning and apparently he’s sick. I’m gonna go see if he needs anything after school so if there’s anything you wanna tell him I can pass the message along.”

“Nah, I was just wondering since I hadn’t seen him even though I’d seen you.” When Michael only looks confused Rich continues, “Dude. You’re pretty much attached at the hip as much as two people who aren’t actually attached at the hip can be.” 

“You’re over exaggerating.”

“Oh yeah? Is that right?” 

“Yeah that’s right,” Michael says, looking down at his phone again. 

“Just out of curiosity,” Rich says with a suspicious air of innocence, “who’s that you’ve been texting?” 

“It’s-”

“This entire time since I came up to you-”

“I don’t appreciate-”

“and probably the entire day since you found out he won’t be he- at school?”

“Well I can’t just ignore him when he’s sick and miserable now can I?” 

Rich’s responding smirk tells him he definitely just rose to a very obvious bait and probably should have just kept his mouth shut. 


The thing is, Jeremy doesn’t do well when he’s sick. To start it off, he has no self-awareness or any clue at what warrants a sick day at home so it’s a miracle he actually didn’t come to school only to have Michael drag his sniffling and swaying ass home. Michael just assumes that Mr. Heere most likely was awake and forced Jeremy back to bed before taking off to his brand new job. 

Michael doesn’t bother with ringing the doorbell when he gets to Jeremy’s house. He knows the key is under the doormat out front, despite how many times he’s told Jeremy it’s the dumbest place in the world to put the house key (”Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you literally get murdered”, “Michael nobody even gets robbed this part of town!”, “Well there’s a first for everything!”). He unlocks the door, grumbling about safety and mostly lack thereof the entire time before he makes his way up the stairs to Jeremy’s bedroom. 

He hear the coughing before he’s even half-way up. He knocks on the door and shouts a quick “Don’t be naked,” purely out of curtesy, before barging in. 

“Hey Mich-” Jeremy’s raspy voice is cut-off by wet sounding coughs that tear through his body and forces him to turn over on his side so that he won’t choke. 

“Holy shit dude,” Michael says eloquently as he sits down on the bed next to Jeremy’s form. “I got you some cough drops,” he pauses as Jeremy’s cough takes over the conversation yet again, “but I honestly don’t think any cough drops in the world is gonna do shit for you right now.” 

“Ugh…” Jeremy looks up at Michael with wet eyes, “dad got me somethin’” he says and makes a gesture in the general direction of his bedside table where a bottle of something Michael presumes is medicine is residing. “It’s meant to like,” he makes a questionable gesture with his hand, “loosen up the crap in my throat, so that it doesn’t get stuck. Which is great and all but in turn means tha I’m coughing up slime every minute.” 

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.” Jeremy says with a sigh and rolls onto his back again. Michael reaches out and puts his hand on Jeremy’s sweaty forehead, just to check. He nearly snatches his hand back after half a second and the only thing that stops him is that Jeremy had closed his eyes the second Michael touched him and is now letting out a sigh as if he’s actually remembering to relax for the first time today. 

“Dude, you’re burning up.” He feel slightly concerned now. Jeremy had told him he was sick but this is… a lot more than he had let on while texting. 

“Mm-hm…” Jeremy says, his eyes are still closed and there’s no actual indication that he’s heard Michael at all. Michael strokes his hand across Jeremy’s forehead and ignores the disgusting feeling of sweat clinging to it. It must feel nice to get something cool touching his hot skin. 

“Hey Jeremy,” he says as he strokes his thumb up the bridge of Jeremy’s nose, “I’m gonna go get some damp towels so you can cool down a bit, yeah?” and so he can get rid of some of that gross-ass sweat currently covering Jeremy’s body as far as he can see. Jeremy seems to have tossed his blanket practically across the bedroom at some point to alleviate some of the heat but even in nothing but a tank-top and boxers he looks like he’s going to boil from the inside-out. When he comes back with four smaller towels and a bowl of cold water Jeremy hasn’t opened his eyes and Michael thinks he might’ve fallen asleep. He arranges one of the towels over Jeremy’s eyes and the latter lets out a sigh of immense relief. “Does your head hurt, Jer?”

“Why’re you being so nice…” Jeremy’s voice is weak and it sounds like it hurts to talk. Michael frowns at the words. 

“When am I ever mean to you?” He asks with a scoff.

“You’re just always nice even after what I did.” Michael has to swallow down an automatic feeling of dread. Any reminder of the Squip usually has that affect. 

“We’re past that, Jeremy.” He keeps his voice quiet so he still sounds calm and not at all like his heart is beating out of his chest.

“I still hear him sometimes.” The words are so simple, and said so softly but it still seems like Jeremy is screeching, as though he’s calling out for help. 

“What do you mean?” He desperately tries to keep his voice calm as he sits down next to Jeremy, he wishes he hadn’t put a towel over half of Jeremy’s face now, wishes he could see what’s going on with Jeremy’s facial expression.

“I keep trying to-” Jeremy has to pause for a second as his voice breaks, “I just want to be better than what he said I was.” 

“Jeremy whatever he said it-” Michael’s words are interrupted by Jeremy who seemingly isn’t done. 

“He would always tell me how terrible I was, how I was gross and how everyone else thought so too…” Michael grabs Jeremy’s hand and squeezes it, unsure what else to do. “Fuck he was right. He was always right.” 

“That’s not true…” Michael whispers shifting so that he’s sitting closer to Jeremy, still squeezing his hand tight. 

“I still hear him, and- and sometimes I forget I don’t have to listen anymore!” Jeremy’s voice is shaky and Michael knows he’s crying, “I keep forgetting I don’t have to say it too.”  

“What do you mean?” Michael doesn’t want to know, but if Jeremy needs to talk he’ll listen, he’ll always listen. 

“He’d make me say things-things about myself…” comes the delayed response and this time Michael listens to the urge that’s telling him to remove the towel from Jeremy’s eyes, his headache be damned. He won’t let Jeremy get so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t remember he isn’t alone. Jeremy blinks his eyes open, and Michael notices right away that he was right. Jeremy’s eyes are red and the second the towel is off his eyes start to water and he looks so frightened and so small that Michael wants nothing more than to take all of the bad, horrible things the Squip told him and make them disappear. He knows he can’t though, the best he can do is just sit there, and hold Jeremy’s hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly and brings Jeremy’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the sweaty palm, “but I’m here, okay? I’m right here, and I’m listening.” Michael can’t be sure if his words do any good as Jeremy only seems to cry harder, but Jeremy needs to know he’s not alone. It takes a few minutes but after a while Jeremy seems to calm down enough to continue.

“Everything about me makes me wanna die.” Jeremy sniffs and fresh tears spring to his eyes and all Michael can do is gather Jeremy up in his arms and hold him close. “He’d make me repeat that…” Jeremy continues, “and I didn’t- I felt it. He just took things I already thought and felt and made me- I want him gone!” Michael’s heart breaks as Jeremy’s ramble ends in a wail, “I want him gone I want him- he’s still- Michael!” Jeremy sobs and grabs at the front of Michael’s shirt. 

“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. He can’t do shit anymore. He-it’s just a voice and it’s awful and I hate it but that’s all it is. it can’t do shit to you anymore.” Even as he says it he isn’t sure if it’s true. With Jeremy still sobbing in his arms, he feels powerless and wonders silently if the Squip isn’t already doing shit, or if he’s just done enough damage to last Jeremy a lifetime. 

He pushes the thought away and squeezes Jeremy tighter. 

This is Shigeru Mizuki

He was born March 8 1922 and passed away November 30 2015 at age 93.

Mizuki-san was a manga-ka and historian, most famous for his Kitaro manga, Which he started publishing in 1960.

I could give a textbook account of him and everything he’s done and his influence on Japanese culture and revival of the interest in Yokai in Japan as a whole, but I just want to point out some very small things about him;

The first is, unlike a lot of Manga-ka of the 60s, Mizuki did not learn to draw Manga from Tezuka’s school…. or any school at all. He was one of those weird ‘natural talents’ you always hear about but actual examples of are hard to find. Mizuki was one such person. He just inately knew how to draw. And as a result, despite influences from other manga at the time, his characters generally don’t resemble what we think of when we think of ‘60s manga’

Not to mention that, despite his preferred art style, he was diverse in what he could do with how he drew, easily going from his more cartoony drawings to a more realistic style, sometimes doing both at once.

Mizuki-san was drafted into the Japanese Imperial Army during WWII, and during the war contracted malaria and lost his left arm during an explosion.

He was left-handed.

However, despite disease, losing his drawing-hand, being the only surviving member of his unit and literally being ‘ordered to die’ by his superiors, Mizuki survived the war and taught himself to draw with his right hand and just kept going.

His manga that he’s famous for were all done after he lost his dominant arm.

All his manga have a personal autobiographical touch to them. Whether it’s “Showa” which is literally a historical account of what Japan was like from the 20s to the 80s, to Kitaro, which is about the stories of Yokai told to him by his elderly neighbour, all his manga have something personal about them.

He is a cultural icon in Japan for keeping traditional ghost stories and creatures alive in the modern consciousness, as well as his contributions to Japanese history regarding WWII. He traveled the world, gathering ghost stories and traditional folklore from other countries as well.

He’s been awarded a string of awards I’m not even gonna attempt to list, although personally I feel most noteworthy is the ‘Personal of Cultural Merit’ award in 2010 and the ‘Order of the Rising Sun’ Award.

But again, that is his importance historically and culturally, whereas I find his personal struggles regarding the loss of his arm and just relearning how to draw something more personal to know as an artist.

With this in mind, He is also noteworthy for never really following the idea that most manga-ka of the time had that ‘you only need 3 hours sleep a night’ or to keep working without rest. Mizuki never really followed that belief. He got a full night’s sleep every night, and fully believed in actually LIVING life, and not just spending your entire life behind a desk, drawing.

He later joked offhandedly that at age 90 he was still around whereas everyone else of the same time period making manga had long since died.

I feel this is incredibly important to remember. Tezuka believed in working non-stop and barely sleeping. And he is undoubtedly the most important contributor to what we think of as manga today. But Mizuki-san, who is just as important to Japanese culture, believed in sleeping well, living life, and being happy. And he was ALSO important, created amazing work, and is recognized as a master.

You don’t need to work yourself to death to be an artist.

Mizuki-san had a list of ‘7 rules to happiness’, which I honestly feel is worth remembering. It may be things we’ve heard before, but this coming from a man, who went through active war, lost limbs, nearly died,retaught himself how to draw because he wasn’t able to give up, made an impact on Japanese culture, believed in living life, refused to overwork himself and lived to the age of 93, it feels like you can trust his advice. because he’s someone who’s seen some serious shit, but he was happy, and he’d learned how to be happy. And from what I’ve heard remained happy and content until he died of natural causes.

Number 1

‘Don’t try to win – Success is not the measure of life. Just do what you enjoy. Be happy.’

Number 2

‘Follow your curiosity – Do what you feel drawn towards, almost like a compulsion. What you would do without money or reward.’

Number 3

‘Pursue what you enjoy – Don’t worry if other people find you foolish. Look at all the people in the world who are eccentric—they are so happy! Follow your own path.’

Number 4

‘Believe in the power of love – Doing what you love, being with people you love. Nothing is more important.’

Number 5

‘Talent and income are unrelated – Money is not the reward of talent and hard work. Self-satisfaction is the goal. Your efforts are worthy if you do what you love.’

Number 6

‘Take it easy – Of course you need to work, but don’t overdo it! Without rest, you’ll burn yourself out.’

Number 7

‘Believe in what you cannot see – The things that mean the most are things you cannot hold in your hand.’

SCREAMS  (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

IT’S FINALLY HERE OMG OKOK ANYWAY I THINK THIS COUNTS AS ANGST?? (bolded as a warning ;3)

Thank you for your patience, nonnerson~~ nyahaha Anyway I recommend reading (or re-reading part 1)

–R.I.

Click Here for: [Part 1]


It had been a year.

The thought crossed your mind as you exhaled the smoke from a cigarette, watching as it disappeared with the wind. Just like you had, a year ago.

The sun’s rays peeked out from behind the familiar, tall building in front of you, spreading its light over the shadows where you hid. Rika’s old apartment building. The same place where he had brought you to, and the same place he had taken you away from.

Even now, you were unaware of their intentions for bringing you to the RFA and then stealing you away, but… it didn’t matter. No, nothing mattered anymore.

You crumpled the lit cigarette with your bare hands, tossing it to the ground to stamp out the flame, feeling satisfied by the small crunch! sound it made. You wouldn’t have started to smoke, had it not been for the influence of Mint Eye. Sure, you knew it’d kill you, but everything you’d learned at Mint Eye had opened your eyes to the world—that nothing was worth living for in the first place. What did it matter if you killed yourself a little more?

It didn’t.

“MC?” A familiar voice called out to you, making you snap out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened with recognition as you stared at the person before you, but you quickly narrowed them, pursing your lips as you gazed at them coolly.


Yoosung

  • He did a double take, as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the familiar features of your face that he hadn’t seen in a year…
  • “MC? Y-you’re MC, right?”
  • His voice was filled with hope and desperation, and he subconsciously reached out to you, as if he wanted to catch you before you slipped away.
  • But you didn’t reply, instead brushing past him, barely acknowledging his presence. As you passed him, he noticed the cold look in your eyes, and shuddered. That… that wasn’t the kind and warm MC he had grown to known. You wouldn’t look at him like that, no… not you.
  • Yoosung could only stare after you in disbelief, but he never gathered the courage to approach you again, not even to confirm your identity.
  • It couldn’t have been you. You wouldn’t look so… so… empty.
  • He’d lament about it to Zen later, drunkenly babbling that he’d seen someone just like you on the streets… admitting his fear that he was too much of a coward to find out if it had been you.
  • “I’m scared if it really was MC… Her eyes looked so distant… so empty… so cold… it can’t be her,” Yoosung would deny, shaking his head with a drunken grin on his face. “MC… our MC would never…”
  • He refused to believe it, avoiding the thought completely. A tear fell from his eye as he gazed at Zen through his glass of champagne. “You should’ve seen those scars on her body… god, no, they can’t… they just can’t belong to her,” he hiccupped, still shaking his head in denial.
  • Even as he fell asleep from the heavy amount of alcohol he’d consumed, he would continue to cry in his sleep, dreaming of the broken girl that he’d been too afraid to even talk to.
  • “Not MC…”

Zen

  • You didn’t bother sparing him a second glance as you met eyes with him, but he grabbed your arm before you could even turn the other way.
  • His eyes were shining almost too brightly, and you could practically see a tail wagging excitedly from behind him like a dog. “Jagiya!! Oh, I knew it was you. I would recognize your pretty face anywhere. I’m so glad you’re okay, jagi, I can’t wait to tell the others! I’ve missed…”
  • Zen trailed off as he noticed your unchanging expression, but he mustered up another smile to cover up the fact that your lack of reaction dampened his mood. After all, it had been a year since he last saw you. He didn’t want to waste any more time with you, and he didn’t want to be gloomy with you after so long.
  • “Come on, why don’t we sit down somewhere to catch up?” he smiled warmly, tugging at your arm gently. He didn’t miss the unusual way you winced a bit as he did.
  • Zen loosened his grip on you arm, worry building uncomfortably in his heart. “MC… is it okay if I roll up your sleeve? Please…” His eyes searched yours for an answer, not just to his spoken question but to the millions of questions bottled up.
  • You… you felt torn. Why was he acting so nice to you even though you weren’t even a part of the RFA? Even though it’d been a year? Even though… even though he had no reason to be nice to you? You felt a pain tugging at your heart, but you tried to ignore it instead.
  • Zen looked at you while rolling up the sleeve of your right arm, watching your expression carefully for any hint that he should stop.
  • But you let him.
  • You let him see the dark purple bruises lining up your arm, the faded scars that left scabs in their place… the pain. The pain you’d suffered the past year.
  • He felt sick. What had happened during the time you had gone missing…? Why… why couldn’t he be there for you? Why did this have to happen? Why weren’t you saying anything? Why aren’t there even tears in your eyes? Why wouldn’t you look at him in the eyes?
  • So many questions were spinning in his mind, but he couldn’t voice a single one. “I’m sorry,” he whispered instead, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
  • His hands were trembling as he held yours, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips as he kissed every one softly… treating you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.
  • “I’m so sorry I let them hurt you.”

Jaehee

  • Her eyes had dark circles under them, even larger than the ones you’d last seen on her face a year ago. You wondered, could it be that you’d caused that? But you quickly brushed aside the thought. ‘I don’t care,’ you told yourself.
  • It took her a moment to really look at you, her tired mind barely processing what was going on. “MC…?”
  • She just barely recognized you. Gosh… you looked so different. You were wearing dull, dark clothes, even gained a piercing… There were obvious scars at the base of your neck, travelling down toward your chest… But your eyes. Your eyes looked so dead.
  • Jaehee had always thought that she herself looked stressed and tired enough… but seeing you today made her think twice. You looked far worse than her, and she hadn’t even thought that was possible.
  • She swallowed her thoughts, choosing to make small talk with you instead. “You’ve… changed a lot, MC,” she commented softly, unsure what to say.
  • You cocked your head at her. How were you supposed to respond to that?
  • “Uhm, maybe we could grab some coffee?” she tried, still trying to get over her shock of seeing you after your disappearance a year ago. Jaehee had no idea what exactly had happened to you, and reality hadn’t quite hit her that you were standing in front of her just yet, but… she was so, so glad to see you.
  • Your heart swelled at the delighted expression Jaehee wore, and you flashed a small, sad, tired smile at her. You’d missed her. She’d been the only female in the RFA, so you’d put in a lot of effort to befriend her. Jaehee had been one of your closest female friends in your entire life, despite the fact that you had only known her for a short period of time…
  • But no matter how you felt, you couldn’t do anything about it.
  • “I’m sorry.” You pulled her into a tight embrace, closing your eyes briefly to savour the moment. But you quickly let go before she could even wrap her arms around you. “I… don’t want to put you in danger.”
  • With that, you turned on your heel, leaving a confused, sleep-deprived Jaehee behind to suffer from your absence yet again.

V

(Reminder: he’s unaware of Mint Eye in this.)

  • “MC!” His voice was urgent and desperate, very different from the gentle tone you remembered him by. “MC… I’m so glad you’re okay…”
  • His eyes were filling with tears, relieved to see you after so long. He noted your features… the bruises, the healing injuries, the broken look in your eyes as if you’d lost all meaning in life. Dread and guilt overwhelmed his relief, his body growing stiffer and stiffer the more details he noticed.
  • Because it was his fault.
  • He was the one who swore you’d be safe. And yet…
  • He almost choked on his tears as he managed to whisper, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, MC.”
  • Reality hit him. It was all his fault that this had happened to you. If only he hadn’t convinced Jumin… if only he’d ensured your security… if only it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have these scars.
  • “Leave me alone,” you muttered, brushing past him. He watched you walk away, your eyes downcast and lacking life. He could almost hear his own heart cracking more with every step you took.
  • Because he had no right to stop you. He had no right to interfere with your life and risk ruining it more than he already had.
  • Your brief meeting with him had started with a broken girl, and ended with a broken man.

Jumin

  • His heart was hammering as he stared at you with wide eyes. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He took quick, long strides to make his way toward you, but you broke into a sprint, running away from him.
  • No. No. Not him. Not Jumin. No.
  • You knew how he’d felt about you. Hell, you knew you’d felt something with him, too. If you looked at him any longer, all the feelings, all the memories, would come rushing back. You couldn’t let him see you.
  • But he chased you.
  • God, there was no way he’d let you go again.
  • He ran the fastest he’d ever run in his entire life, ignoring everyone and everything around him, only focusing on catching you. But then he tripped just as he got within an arm’s reach, and you halted in your steps on instinct. A pained smile crossed his face as Jumin grabbed at your ankle tightly, making sure you couldn’t run off again.
  • “I knew you would stop for me,” he murmured softly. He stood up slowly, his eyes trained on you. “I thought I’d never get the chance to see you again. That I’d never be able to tell you how sorry I am for letting you go that day… Even after a year, you’re still the same kind, gentle MC I know.”
  • You held back your tears, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not the same, Jumin,” you started, your voice coming out as an unintentional whimper. “I… You don’t know what they did to me, Jumin… They t-touched me, and drugged me, and hurt me and killed me in so, so many ways… I… I’m so disgusted with myself…”
  • You didn’t know why you were telling all this to him. But you couldn’t help it. He was the man you had loved… The man you probably still held feelings for. Even if a year had gone by, the way his mere presence made you feel safe and loved never changed.
  • He gently cradled you in his arms. “I promise you, MC. I will do anything and everything in my power to protect you. I will never let this happen again, I promise,” he murmured in your ears, his chin resting upon your shoulder. You felt dampness on your shoulder, and you realized… Jumin Han was crying.
  • “How? Seven couldn’t even protect me,” you muttered, holding yourself back from returning his warm embrace.
  • He didn’t answer you. Instead, he acted immediately on his words. Jumin exposed your identity to the world, requesting an international TV station to release the news. Everyone would know you. If Mint Eye attempted to take you again, they wouldn’t be able to do so without raising the public’s suspicions. Furthermore, he assigned you trustworthy guards and increased security around his apartment with Seven’s help.
  • They had let you go once. They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
  • It would take time to help you recover from your traumatic events, but.. They would never let anything happen to you, ever again.
  • Because they love you. They all do.

Seven

  • He would recognize you anywhere. Even worse, he recognized the glazed look in your eyes immediately, too.
  • Come with me right now,” he scowled, grabbing your hand roughly. You tried to pull back, but his grip was firm, and you couldn’t fight against his strength.
  • As he led you angrily through the streets, throwing you into his car and locking the two of you inside, a million thoughts were filling his mind.
  • “Who did this to you?” Seven demanded. He was seething, his golden eyes flashing with detest.
  • You only glared back at him, refusing to answer his question. What good would it do you? Mint Eye had overpowered him and his security once. Even if you went crawling back to the RFA, they would only get you again. It was hopeless. Everything was fucking hopeless.
  • Hurt flashed across his face as he realized what you were thinking, and he lowered his eyes, guilt clouding them. “You think I’m useless, huh. I know. You entrusted your life with me and I only let you down. I can’t promise you that I can help, but please, at the very least, let me try. Tell me what happened, MC,” he pleaded softly.
  • “Even if I told you, what could you do?” you replied in a quiet, tired voice. “It’s an entire organization, Seven. Mint Eye, if you must know. Look, I don’t expect you to do anything.” An empty laugh escaped your lips. “You claim to be this amazing hacker, but you couldn’t even find one girl. You… you have no idea what I went through.”
  • With that said, you left his car, slamming the door shut behind you.

  • That night, when you returned to Mint Eye Headquarters, you noticed that everyone was in a frenzy, running around like mad dogs. “What’s going on?” you asked someone passing by.
  • Their eyes reflected yours with fear. “We’ve been exposed. Revealed to the world. We have to get out, NOW. They’ve sent the government and news stations after us. Each man for himself, run for your life!”
  • You stood there, shocked as you realized that Seven had taken action immediately. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you noticed a distinctly familiar number texting you.
  • 707: It’s been a year, MC. I haven’t done nothing throughout this time. I always swore to myself that if I finally found you again one day, I would save you.
  • Your eyes welled up with tears as you read his messages.
  • 707: If you trust me, come to this address: [Address Here]
  • 707: We’re waiting for you, MC. Everyone’s waiting.
  • You started to run away from the building and towards your friends. Yoosung… Zen… Jaehee… Jumin… Seven… V…
  • The thought of their smiling faces, greeting you, was enough to bring a smile to your face. The first genuine smile since you’d been taken away from the RFA. 
  • It wouldn’t be the last.
Virginity

Requested - Hi! Could you write something with Aaliyah and Y/N. Like they get along pretty well and like Aaliyah asks Y/N about losing Virginity (Y/N lost it very soon) or something like that. Thanks!

Requested - Heyy, I have an imagine request 💕 so, you’re visiting Shawn in Canada and he’s busy, so you end up spending time with Aaliyah (like take her shopping or out for milkshakes or something) and Shawn finds out and he thinks it’s really sweet and fluff fluff fluff

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Shawn says for what seems like the hundredth time as he glances over at you briefly before refocusing his eyes on the road in front of him.

“Don’t be.” You respond with a cheeky smile. “I get to drive your jeep and hang out with your sister, so it’s a win-win for me.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best?” He asks.

“Maybe once or twice,” you tease, a smile on your face as you genuinely appreciate this time you’re getting to spend with your boyfriend, even if it isn’t a lot. You came to Canada to visit him, but he ended up having to rehearse at the last minute, which kind of ruined your original plans for the afternoon.

The drive to his rehearsal space goes by far too quickly, and before you know it you’re driving his jeep out of the parking lot on your way to pick up Aaliyah from school. Since Shawn ended up being busy, you offered to pick up his sister from school and take her to the mall. You’ve grown really close to Aaliyah over the past year that you’ve been dating Shawn, and since you don’t have a younger sister, you take full advantage of getting to spend time with Aaliyah and play an older sister role in her life.

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everyone in be more chill as out-of-context things ive said
  • Jeremy: "Give me ten minutes and I'll come up with something cool and funny and maybe you'll be proud of me like my parents aren't."
  • Michael: "I'm single, limp, and a notably homosexual tapeworm."
  • Christine: "Help, I think I stabbed the prop chicken too hard during my solo."
  • Jenna: "Yo, hey, dude, you have to hear this thing I heard from someone the other day! It's this cool thing called 'validation,' wild, am I right?"
  • Brooke: "I raise you a concept: ice cream is gay."
  • Chloe: *One pant leg of her jeans is missing* "Looking as passingly decent as I do today makes me believe I have my life together."
  • Rich: *raises hand* "So, hypothetically speaking, what if you've burned your textbook for this class?"
  • Jake: "I'm not saying I broke my leg on the second day. I'm saying I tore my ligament which is almost as bad."
  • SQUIP: "Algebra is not a creative colour."
  • bonus:
  • Mr Heere: "I only just remembered people are coming over today and they're going to be arriving in approximately five minutes, so hold up while I go and put on some clothes."
  • Mr Reyes: "The day the legalisation of the marriage of food arrives is the day I ascend with my forever beloved poptart and leave you sorry humans in this hellhole"

rogers’ swan (AO3)

G, 1900 words

“Maybe he’s a bit mad, finding more pleasure in speaking to a bird than with people. It’s not as if she speaks back to him. But she doesn’t walk away and that’s better than he can say for most humans he’s known in his life.”

(a.k.a the fic i wrote as follow-up to this post… IT’D BE CUTE RIGHT? anyway this isn’t spec, just wishful thinking on my part to explain Emma’s absence in the S7 curse)

Officer Rogers considers himself a kind enough person. He may not be good at socializing, and he certainly has no idea how to act around women, but it’s not as if there’s much he can do about it. It’s just not who he is; though, oftentimes he has to wonder if his true self is resting somewhere deep inside, waiting for some grand change in circumstances that might awaken him.

It’s a foolish thought. He knows well enough it’s just because he doesn’t try hard enough to be normal, to fit in. At least, that’s what his father would say if he were still around. But he also knows that despite his awkward nature, it’s really no excuse for how often his coworkers seem to talk about him behind his back.

This was the fifth time that he could remember hearing them planning an after-work trip to the pub down the street in the past month.

Don’t invite Rogers. He’ll just bring us all down.”

“Good idea. He’d just make a mess of things, clumsy bastard.”

“The guy doesn’t know the meaning of a good time.”

For whispering, they were all rather loud. He showed no outward signs he’d heard them, taking his outcast status with as much grace as he could. Suffice it to say, he’d never been invited. He’s certain he never will be.

But no matter, he forces himself to think. It’s not as if I’d enjoy their company, anyway.

Instead of lingering on the fantasy of what he’d do if he had been asked to join them ­– come out of his shell; be charming and sociable; make lifelong friends for his cheerful and upbeat attitude (what a joke) – he changes out of his poorly fitted uniform and into his jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie.

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Drawing in the Common Room

Summary: You’re trying to draw but Sirius really wants a kiss.

Word Count: 1,091

Pairing: Sirius x Reader

Requested by My Writer’s Block (ugh)


Sirius’s right hand rests on your hip, fingertips lightly digging into your skin as you hold the sketchbook in front of you. The two of you take up an entire couch in the Gryffindor common room, earning you the glare of more than one other student over the afternoon. Sirius’s cocked eyebrow and innate charm sent them all scurrying away.

Or maybe it was his implied threat of blackmailing them. You don’t really care. They’re gone, leaving the two of you alone in the common room. That’s all that matters.

The open window lets a lazy breeze in, one that leaves light goosebumps on your arms that Sirius chases away with a soft touch, running his hand up and down your arm.

“Have you almost finished?” He asks, letting his hand wander down the side of your thigh.

You bite your lip, squinting at the intricate swirls on the bookcase across the room. “Not yet, love. And quit moving your hand. It was fine where it was.”

“Come on,” He whines, but he moves his hand back onto your hip.

“Just a little bit more.” You say, words slow as you focus on the sketch.

Sirius sighs, head falling onto the pillow he’s clutching with his left hand.

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Every Bit of It: Part One

Soulmate AU: Everyone has a line that starts from their ring finger that goes to their heart, and in the line is spells out the very frst thoughts you have about your soulmate.


Tyrannus Basilton Pitch hates his line. It’s just like everyone else, but there is only one word repeated over and over and over again. “Wow.” Am I really not more creative than that? Whoever my soulmate is better be “wow” worthy otherwise I will be pissed off. Then again, I’m pissed off a lot.

I wonder what other people’s lines say. Some just say “They’re beautiful,” where others say “Those shoes are ugly as hell.” I think it’s funny, the variety of thoughts that people can have about someone they are truly destined for. Not that I believe all this shit. My friend Agatha doesn’t have a line. When she was younger she wanted to get a tattoo of one, just to make her look normal, but since then the tattooing of the lines have become illegal. I guess there have been too many people in Agatha’s position where they get lines and steal soulmates from other people. Agatha isn’t like that though. She just wanted a line, no words, to make her look normal.

Work today is slow as a bitch. Why does no one want coffee? Coffee is great. I am debating getting some when the door dings open. Two people walk in, but the sun from outside blocks my view of them.

“Honesty, Simon, do you really need to go to every single store in London to find these bloody scones? I want to go home,” a girl’s voice said.

“Yes, Penny. You know I am addicted to them.”

I rolled my eyes. Wow, I thought. Scones? Then I froze. I thought wow. Is that..?

Simon and Penny walked up to the counter. “Hi! Do you have scones?”

“Um, yeah, what kind do you want?” I asked him, movements slow in case he realized that maybe I was his soulmate.

“Sour cherry,” he said. And then he froze. “Give us a minute will you?”

He dragged the girl away and whispered to her. His hands were moved everywhere, he gestured to where his line is, and he blushed when he realized I was staring at him. I got the sour cherry scones for him, I didn’t know how much he wanted so I just gave him five since they are sold in bundles of five. I waited for them at the counter. Penny went and sat down and he walked back to the counter. Holy shit. He’s really cute.

He has bronze curls and blue eyes. His face is covered in freckles and little moles and it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen in a while.

“I have five scones for you, do you want more?” I ask him.

“Five is good, but I would like your number,” he replies. Damn, he’s good.

“Let me get that for you..?”

“Simon. My name is Simon “Your Soulmate” Snow.“ He actually used finger quotes around "Your Soulmate.” He smirked like hell when he did that. Why did I feel like he should never smirk?

“That’s smooth, Snow. That’s smooth,” I whispered as I was writing my number on his receipt. “Now, just because you are my soulmate doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay for these scones and my number. That’ll be 3.49.”

“Does that include or not include your phone number?” He asked, handing me the money.

“My number costs one date with you.” I answered, handing him the scones and my number. “I’m off in an hour.”

“I’ll wait for you here,” he winked and walked back to Penny, who was silently recording the entire encounter.

“Did you get it?” Snow whispered just a little too loud.

Penny smiled. “Every bit of it.”

I don’t think I hate my line anymore.

hello how are you? hope you’re fine and ready for me to spam your askbox! xD since we’re getting closer to summer B/ *makes success fist* i was wondering how would our baes react to seeing their crush’s very alluring figure in a swimsuit/bikini the first time? - maybe for ace, sabo, law, shanks ? idk if anyone else wants to add more into this request? headcanons are fine for me. thank you :3 *leaves a crepe here for you   

A/N: *eats the crepe happily* thank you! I’m great, I hope you’re fine too, also, I imagined all of them with no shirt………. yeah………. God bless. 💗


Ace

  • The whole Whitebeard crew had decided to just chill at the beach for today, the weather too good to waste it in other ways
  • Everyone was either having fun in the water, slurping on some drinks or if they couldn’t enjoy the waves, sitting on some towels and enjoying the sun
  • Ace was standing somewhere, searching for you with his eyes while he’s talking to someone, wondering why he hasn’t seen you yet
  • He’s about to ask Thatch where you are, when he sees you happily walking into their direction in a bikini, showing off your body just perfectly
  • Get ready for the nosebleeds
  • He forgets to breath for a few seconds and just stares at your body in pure amazement
  • His ears turn red and his eyes grow twice the size
  • “Ace, what are you staring at?- oh, oh my god…” Thatch would notice too and after a seconds he would glance back at his fellow member, only to see him practically drooling at your sight “Jeez, get a grip, what are you? 13?”
  • Let’s just say Ace wasn’t so sure about his age anymore, he wasn’t even sure about his own name, too focused on a certain someone
  • But then you walk up to both of them and smile in such a innocent way, the freckled man wants to cry and run away
  • “Hey guys!”, you happily say and Ace just… no
  • He can’t even bear to look at you so he just stares at the sky, sand- hell, he even stares into Thatch’s eyes in pure horror
  • You’re too close, but at the same time, someone in the back of his mind just whispers, you’re not close enough ;-)
  • You get confused at his reaction and ask him if he wants to drink something and he just…
  • “My favourite colour is red.”
  • He wants to smack himself in the face, but he just closes his eyes
  • Thatch starts to laugh and you just shake your head in amusement
  • After a few more failed conversation starters you decide to leave the poor man alone, so you turn around 
  • You’re about to walk away, when you turn around again and catch Ace staring right at your booty and… is he drooling?
  • Thatch is cracking up and smacks the back of his friends head and you can’t help but laugh too, all while Ace’s whole face turns bright red and apologies fly out of his mouth and he wants to cry and hide and hates thatch and oh my god
  • this kid is2g

Sabo

  • Okay, Sabo is such a cutie
  • When he first saw your body in a bikini/swimsuit, he couldn’t breath either
  • He was so amazed by your sight, he almost forgot to behave
  • But only almost, he knows how to handle this feeling, he’s a man
  • Instantly, he glances at the floor/sand and tries his best to get him under control again you interpret what I mean with that 
  • Turns out to be a bit harder then expected, because you just look too good  this sounds really wrong and I’m really sorry LMAO
  • You wouldn’t even notice his reaction and just go and talk to koala a few metres away from him 
  • Everything is fine for a while, but then you just feel like someone keeps staring at you
  • You turn around but never see someone and you’re just???
  • So you ask Koala if someone stares at you and she just glances behind you and then giggles uncontrollably
  • You get curious and ask what’s going on, so she comes closer and whispers into your ear:
  • “Sabo’s face is burning red! He keeps glancing at you, I’m sure his drink is already empty but he just doesn’t want- no wait, can’t get up!”
  • You turn around too and then you catch him
  • He starts to choke and turns his head around, suddenly getting panicked
  • You grin, walk up to him and sit down next to him, “Hi.”
  • ohmygod ohmygod what the- they noticed I stared I am so oh my god- 
  • “Hey.”
  • “It’s really hot today, don’t you think?”
  • “OH, yes, it sure is hot today, haha. So hot, so freaking… hot.”
  • He glances at your face and you just bite your lip at his face
  • He looks like he’s about to cry
  • “You look beautiful.” He whispers, even though he didn’t really wanted to say that out loud
  • You thank him laughing and playfully grab his arm and he just freezes
  • He feels it, it just got too hot and you’re too close and you look so beautiful and your smile is so adorable and oh, oh no-
  • He excuses himself and runs into the nearest hiding spot, blushing extremely
  • Koala is still laughing in the background

Law

  • Okay, now Law is different
  • He’s not reacting like Sabo or Ace, no
  • He actually doesn’t like to see you like this, because even though he has admitted that he likes you, no one else knows that he’s into you, so therefor others will stare at you in ways, he doesn’t want them to
  • He gets a bit pissy and his mood just drops a bit
  • And yet he can’t help but think how gorgeous your body looks in this light or how good your skin must feel under his fingertips
  • He notices you playing with Penguin in the water and gets so frustrated, because first, he can’t join you and second, Penguin is being too friendly for his taste
  • After a while you notice him being grumpy in the sand, so you turn to your friend and open your mouth, about to tell him that you’re leaving, when you suddenly feel a weird vibration around you and then everything is lighly blue?
  • “Room.”
  • A second later you’re next to Law in the sand and almost fall down from the sudden change of location
  • You stare at the dark haired man and just go ????
  • And he just glances at you, “I thought there was a shark.”
  • Yeah, no, there was no shark
  • “You should wear something else, Y/N.”, he then mumbles and you merely smirk
  • “Why? You don’t think I look good in this?”
  • And he just hides his face in his hat, but you know he turned red, you just know it 
  • “That’s not it.”
  • “Yeah,” You grin and then you say it, “I know. I saw the way you stared, Captain.”
  • He is speechless and you cover your mouth with your hand so you don’t start to laugh loudly
  • His brain works super fast, trying his best to find an excuse to why he was staring and then he just gulps,
  • “I wasn’t staring. I was just making sure you don’t get hurt.”
  • “Of course, how admirable.” you say and stand up, on your way to get something to drink, when you bend down and whisper:
  • “I don’t mind you staring, because I was staring at you too, Law.” and then you leave just like that
  • And he just swears, he will make sure everyone knows you belong to him, everyone 

Shanks

  • *laughs in shanks*
  • Okay, my beautiful, gorgeous, stupid, hilarious little daddy shanks
  • This man, oh my god
  • Secretly staring and drooling? Nah, he’s too old for this crap
  • The red haired man will simply walk up to you the second he sees you and flirt with you as much as he can
  • Get ready for a lot of compliments
  • “No wonder it suddenly got so hot, I mean look at you…” - “Everytime I look at you, you just seem to get more beautiful.” - “Y/N, Hancock has got nothing on you…”
  • If other people talked to you like this you’d probably smack them and leave, but it’s shanks and you’re crushing on him so you just thank him and giggle
  • Shanks just feels like you’re the perfect wifey for him; you’re smart, funny, strong minded, kind and so so beautiful
  • also he can’t help but wonder how your skin feels like against his ;-)
  • After a few more seconds of flirting talking to each other, someone calls for him, so he has to leave for a short while
  • You stand there in the sun and then, some random dude comes up to you and starts to flirt in such a weird way, you feel uncomfortable, you try to be polite and leave, but it’s not as easy as you thought and then, oh my god
  • Guess who notices
  • Yes, you know who
  • He is by your side in a few short heartbeats and suddenly, he’s not as playful as before anymore
  • “Is that how you talk to a woman?”, he asks and glares at the dude in such a scary way…
  • You actually feel a bit sorry for him, but then he sprints away and you don’t really care anymore
  • Shanks takes you to the other members and you all sit on the sand and have a nice chat
  • He doesn’t really care if other people stare at you, as long as you don’t feel uncomfortable or if they don’t get disrespectful, he feels like they’re complimenting you
  • He actually feels a bit proud, because yes, this beauty next to him is in his crew and yes, he knows you’re liking him as much as he likes you
  • Yeah, Shanks is just great I love him
  • also, shanks in no shirt *drools in ace- style*

Title: Lost in Translation
Character: Shaun Murphy
Previous Part: http://ofnifflersandkings.tumblr.com/post/166096152667/title-secondhand-memories-character-shaun-murphy

Your hand absentmindedly reached up to rub the remaining sleep from your eyes as you readjusted your bag strap on your shoulders. Glancing down at your phone for the time before you pushed open the door to the hospital, bidding a short good morning to the guard by the enterence.

When you looked back up from your phone, you saw Shaun standing right in the center of the lobby. He was dressed in his usual blue scrubs and coat, he was looking right at you until your gazes met. He gave you a stiff wave and then kept his eyes on his folded hands.

“Dr. Murphy?” You said as you walked up to him, hands in your pockets. “You’re early today.”

“Yes, I am,” Shaun reaffirmed, clearing his throat as he looked back at you. “You weren’t here yesterday.”

You shook your head. “No, I wasn’t. But I’m fine now, no need to worry.”

“I did though,” He said over you. “I was worried something had happened because you weren’t sleeping. Did you rest like you promised?”

You smiled. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry for making you worry. It was just a bug is all, Claire told me she’d give me a stern talking to if I didn’t stay home till I felt better.”

“Why don’t you take care of yourself?” Shaun asked after a short pause.

It took you a second to get back from the minor shock of being asked such a blunt question. “I do take care of myself.” You said with a short laugh.

“But you just said Claire was the one who made you take off work even though you were sick. And she told me you had a very long history of doing this kind of thing.”

You remained silent, and Shaun took it as a sign to elaborate further.

“I understand that as a doctor your schedule isn’t always the same, but you should try to make sure you’re healthy and-”

“Uhm, I should probably-” You broke to point aimlessly in some direction. “-I should go get my scrubs on. I’ll see you later.”

Shaun couldn’t even think of a response before you all but sprinted away from him to your locker.

Shaun didn’t see you for the rest of the day, even on the busiest of days; he’d always manage to at least catch a glance of you. But it was like you weren’t even in the hospital again.

After his shift was over, Shaun was quick to change into street clothes; practically shoving his coat on as he quickly walked to the main enterence lobby.

He looked around, seeing the usual receptionist and guard that covered the night shifts, and a couple people hanging around the sitting area as they read magazines or talked to one another while drinking out of cheap, plastic coffee cups.

You usually left late, so he figured he’d wait around and catch you before you left. He didn’t fully understand what had made you so upset, but it felt like it was something he said.

Shaun looked down at his phone to look at the time, fifteen minutes had past and still nothing.

He continued to do the same thing, checking precisely every fifteen minutes for around two hours. Looking up everytime he heard footsteps; expecting to see you walking up to the doors or tying back your hair.

He took another look at the time, Shaun would have to leave now if he wanted to catch the bus home. He looked up one final time, glancing at the various enters into the lobby, but no one came by.

Shaun stood up, sliding his phone into his pocket as he started towards the exit. Maybe he could find you tomorrow.

Shaun stood in front of the mirror, ruffling around his hair as he looked down at his phone for the time. He was at least half an hour ahead of his normal schedule, wanting to get at the hospital so he was certain he’d catch you come into work.

But when he went into the hospital as usual, you were now the one standing in the middle of the room; waiting on him.

You weren’t dressed in your scrubs, but Shaun saw you rocking back and forth on your feet and you gave him a small smile when you two saw each other.

“Morning, Shuan,” You said when you walked up to him. “How was the bus ride here?”

“Normal, well not exactly, I was early so the usual people weren’t there.” Shaun explained.

You nodded. “I wanted to say sorry, for avoiding you yesterday.”

“I had planned on talking to you about it,” He looked down at you. “I was worried that you’d still be upset with me.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t upset with you. I think I was upset with myself because I knew you were right and I had to confront the issue; I wanted to ignore it for a little longer.”

“Well good,” Shaun said with a nod. “Are we still friends?”

“Course,” You affirmed with a laugh. “I would never be upset with someone for something so trivial. I know you had good intentions when you asked me about it.”

Shaun nodded again. “Good,” He repeated, not entirely sure how to carry on the conversation.

You inhaled, your shoulders rising slightly as you did so. “I should go get ready for work, I’m sure Claire’s trying to hunt me down as we speak.”

Shaun smiled. “I’ll see you around today then?”

You nodded. “Absolutely.”

Safe

Requested: Can you do one where like shawn says “i’ll do whatever it takes to make you safe again?” (i’m watching twilight and thought it would be cute lol)

~~~

You don’t want to live your life in fear.  You never thought that something like this would happen to you, but it has and can’t help but feel terrified. It started out seemingly innocent enough, nothing to be worried about at the time. Being an actress and dating a famous singer certainly comes with its fair share of hate, and you’ve been in the public eye long enough to learn how to ignore it for the most part. There has, however, been someone who has started stalking you in a way that has become far more than something harmless. It has been going on for about two weeks, and both your publicist and management know about it, but they’re doing their best to keep it all from becoming known to the public and they don’t want to make it into a big deal.

You’ve tried to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. You’ve tried to convince yourself that he’s harmless, but you’re terrified that he might really hurt you. You’ve seen him lurking a couple of times when you went to get coffee or sometimes you see him standing outside of your apartment building. Possibly the worst thing about this whole thing and the fact that he’s been showing up so much this last week is that Shawn is in the Philippines for work so you’re all alone in your apartment at night, and that terrifies you.

Keep reading

Amelia (Part 2 of 3)

MASTERLIST | Part 1

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: Meet Melissa.

Note: (I’m not sure what time it is for you guys but I need to go to class so I’m posting this early-ish? Sorry yo)

So..?? You guys have been crazy wonderful and supportive about part one and I’m stupid emotional about it?? I was low key terrified to post it bc I hadn’t posted any writing in so long but y’all are incredible and I don’t deserve you holy wow.

Anyway, here’s PART TWO uh oh here we go. I think it goes without saying that this wouldn’t exist without Taryn’s help but also like THIS WOULDN’T EXIST WITHOUT TARYN’S HELP.

enjoy the trash!

Word Count: about 12k whatever (I promise part 3 is less obnoxious)


Late nights working at the bar usually left you exhausted beyond belief, barely able to make it to your bed before you collapsed and passed out until the incessant buzzing of your alarm woke you up just a few hours later. You hated your job. You hated the low-cut uniform and the creepy men you had to serve with a smile. You hated the late hours and the shitty pay.

You hated it, and so you were trying to consistently sleep off the grimy film that shifts at the bar always left on your skin.

This night, however, was different. On this night, you barged back into your apartment after your shift ended at two in the morning with your mind already racing and fingers itching for a pen to start writing things down. You pulled out a crumpled wad of napkins that you’d started jotting ideas, facts and figures onto throughout the night and started transcribing them in more detail into a notebook on your desk– a notebook you hadn’t touched since the last time you had started planning a gallery display.

You stayed up all night, doing research and thinking through logistics and never tiring as you worked towards something for the first time in two years.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I hope you'll take pity on me in my pathetic state. I have my period and I'm in so much pain! Could you please write a little fluffy something where Mulder takes care of a hurt/grouchy Scully with her period? Extra points if it's whilst they are still platonic? 🤞🏼❤️

Oh anon! So sorry to hear this. I really hope you feel better soon. I hope I made this fluffy enough. Also read Prufrocks Love’s Cycles. It’s brilliant. This little thing here is set in season 1. 

Scully has been quiet all day. It’s not like she’s known for incessant chatter, no, but she usually indulges in a little intellectual chit chat while they’re on a case. Or while having lunch together, like they are right now. Mulder watches her as she pokes around in her food listlessly. She has barely eaten. He can’t blame her, really. Her salad looks almost as sad as she does. What he doesn’t understand though is why. He’s been hoping for a hint, anything, but Scully keeps silent, suffers all alone. Mulder, however, can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Are you coming down with something, Scully?” She lifts her head, stares at him. She looks dazed, tired. He hopes she doesn’t have the flu. They haven’t known each other that long, just about a year, but she’s never been sick. 

“No. I’m fine, Mulder.” He nods, chewing on his chicken, wondering if he should offer some of it to her. 

“Do you want some of my chicken?” Mulder puts a piece on a fork, holds it out towards her. Scully glances at it, her expression changing into one of disgust. 

“Please get that away from me.”

“It’s good chicken”, Mulder tells her; he knows she loves chicken. He’s seen her wolf it down before. “Come on, try it.”

“Mulder, I really don’t want any chicken. Excuse me.” Her words sound strangled as she pushes her chair away, almost toppling over, running to the bathroom. 

Something is definitely off, he decides, as he finishes his chicken alone.

Scully refuses to talk to him in the car. He tries a few topics, gets some monosyllabic answers, another I’m fine, Mulder and finally a please concentrate on the road, Mulder. So he shuts up. In his mind, though, the wheels are turning. Did she break up with a boyfriend? He looks over at her quickly. Her hands are on her stomach, resting there. Does she even have a boyfriend? No, she’s never mentioned one. His eyes are drawn to her hands again. They way she’s pressing them to her stomach looks peculiar. Could she be…

“Are you pregnant?” He blurts out, startles Scully and himself in the process. 

“What on earth gave you that idea?” She screeches. He shrugs, keeps his eyes on the road.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he starts, trails off when she huffs, “You didn’t eat at the diner. When I offered you some chicken, you looked positively green.”

“Maybe I just wasn’t hungry. I’m tired, Mulder. Not that it’s any of your business but no, I am not pregnant.” There is something in the way she says this that makes him wonder. The wheels turn, turn and finally it clicks.

“Oh!” He says, blushing slightly. “Oh. I get it.”

“Oh what, Mulder?“ 

"Do you need anything? Painkillers or… something?” He’s read somewhere that an orgasm is a great way to relieve menstrual pain. Mulder is not sure she wants to hear that right now. He is pretty sure, she is a medical doctor after all, that she knows anyway. Scully, he’s come to find, knows just about everything.

“I’m fine, Mulder.” It sounds more like shut up and leave me alone, Mulder, and so he does. For now.

He watches her like a hawk the rest of the day. When the town’s sheriff proposes Scully do an autopsy at 8 pm, Mulder puts his foot down. He ushers Scully out, who is protesting, albeit weakly, and promises they’ll be back in the morning. The sheriff is at a loss for words, simply nods and accepts.

“What was that, Mulder? Are you out of your mind?” Scully spews at him once they’re outside.

“It’s late, Scully. You can do the autopsy in the morning.”

“Since when do you get to decide how and when I do my job?”

“Scully, you’re tired, you’re…” She’s staring at him, waiting for an explanation that he doesn’t have, and he knows she’ll go off if he says the wrong thing now. Though he is not sure there is a right thing. 

“I’m angry is what I am!” She throws her hands up, looks comically for a moment, but Mulder is too scared to laugh or even smile. He watches her wander off, her heels scraping over the gravel angrily. He follows her once he feels it’s safe. 

They have adjoining rooms - usually an invitation for Mulder to come over to hers if it’s not too late. Tonight the door is closed though. He listens to her every movement, doesn’t even turn on the TV. He’s been working with her for a year. Shouldn’t this have happened before? He doesn’t recall her ever behaving like this. Mulder gets up, stops at the door. Knocking feels strange, stupid. He does it anyway. At first he thinks Scully is ignoring him, or maybe she is asleep already. Finally, she opens the door. Her face is clean, devoid of make-up. He wants to tell her how much he loves her freckles, but her expression stops him. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her face flushed.

“Did you cry?” She rolls her eyes; he really needs a filter, think about what he is saying before he says it.

“No, Mulder. I’m just… what do you want?”

“I uhm, wanted to check up on you." 

"I told you I was fine. Women go through this every month, Mulder. It’s no big deal.”

“Of course, Scully. I’m gonna… leave you alone. Good night.”

“Good night.” She closes the door, softly. Mulder knows he should give up, leave her alone in her misery. But then he has an idea. A brilliant one.

The next time he knocks, he is prepared. 

“Mulder, what- Mulder?" 

"I come bearing gifts, Scully.” He is holding up his small bag for inspection. With a sigh, Scully steps aside, letting him in. 

“What did you bring?” Her voice is tired, but curious.

“Oreos, Twinkies and Twizzlers. That’s all they had. Oh, and Hershey’s Kisses.” Her face lightens up at the mention of chocolate. “You want some kisses?” He grins, feeling proud of himself. Scully snatches the Hershey’s Kisses and the Oreos from him. She sits on the bed, digs in hungrily. He watches her, happy to see he’s done something right today.

“I uhm, also… I brought Aleve. The woman at the pharmacy said it works best. I got some ibuprofen just in case though.” He offers them to her.

“Mulder…” Her voice sounds teary and Mulder hopes he hasn’t made her cry. He doesn’t have anything for that. “Thank you.” She finally finishes, smiling up at him.

“You could have said something, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to be in pain. You could have told me at the diner. You could have told me all the other times.”

“It usually… isn’t this bad.” She admits, putting another Oreo into her mouth.

“Next time it is, please tell me.” Scully nods without looking at him. Mulder gently taps her chin, puts two fingers under it, lifts her head. Her eyes are swimming with angry tears; she doesn’t want him to see her like this. Tough luck, Scully, he thinks, we’re partners. Even in this. 

“I will. I promise, Mulder.”

“Thank you.” He steals an Oreo and grins at her, his teeth decorated in brown cookie crumbs, making Scully laugh. “That’s what I like to see!"  

She giggles, offering him another Oreo. He eats it right out of her hand, his lips brushing her fingers. 

"Want me to stay with you tonight?” He asks, chewing slowly.

“Mulder, the menstrual cycle is not known to cause nightmares or night terrors. There is no reason for you to stay here.”

“I could be your heating pad, though.” Just to give her an idea, he puts his large hand on her stomach. She sighs, deeply, before she puts her own, tiny hand over his. It feels nice, warm. He wants to do this for her, it occurs to him. All the time. The moment ends; she takes his hand, takes it off her stomach.

“Maybe next month.” She pushes a Hershey’s Kiss against his lips, a small thank you, then into his hand. He gets it: leave me alone now, Mulder. But he’s going to remember it now. Back in his own room, he jots down a small x into his diary. Next month he’ll be prepared. And maybe, just, maybe, one day he’ll really get to be her heating pad.

anonymous asked:

Could you do #107 please? Also I'm glad you are feeling better❤❤

Thank you so much sweet x

107 ~ “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.”

There’s violence in living and in dying, in loving and in abandoning, in praying and in sinning. There is no soft way to survive. She’d always found solace in him though, and him in her. They were homeless hearts lost under broken streetlights looking for a place to rest and seeking refuge in someone else’s chest. They were each others shelter from the storm but lately there’s been cracks in the ceiling and it’s letting the rain in.

They’d been falling apart rather than together for a while now. He’s been rendered colour blind to everything but blue and their kisses taste of pennies. Her heartbreak was different to his, he was snappy and short with her like instead of dropping her heart from his sleeve he’d just add a few more nails into it instead. No, her heartbreak was more like signs of rumination cryptically written on abandoned buildings, trains, subways, bridges. Hidden well yet still there. Still important. Maybe that’s why he keeps acting the way he does, because he can’t tell that it’s affecting her. Continuing on with the passing insults and the tone of voice that makes her chest tight. He knows they’re breaking though, can see the darkness seeping through the iridescent happiness they’d built around them, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Can’t figure out where they’d gone wrong. It still hurts when he sees her cry though, that much he knows.

He’d gotten home earlier than expected. The house was cold and quiet. The coldness he was growing used to but quietness, however, was new. She was always doing something to keep her mind off of the brokenness around her, but today? Today it was quiet and it’s got him looking for her. It wasn’t until he was outside of their bedroom door that he heard it. Heard her. The sound doesn’t go to his head or his heart, it goes to his stomach and he feels sick because he knows exactly why it’s happening. She’s sobbing and it’s because of him. He’s almost scared to open the door, scared to see the fragments of the girl he’d picked away at.

“Baby?” It feels so foreign on his tongue as he pushes the door open and she’s gasping when she hears it. Palming her eyes and brushing away fallen tears before he can see her in the state she’s in.

“Hi Harry, how was your day?” Her voice is soft yet scratchy and she’s turning to look are him, praying her eyes aren’t as puffy as they feel.

“Oh baby, no.” Taking in her exhausted appearance he’s all but running towards her to bring her into his arms and for the first time she doesn’t melt into his touch, instead she freezes. She’s stiff in his arms and he’s close to sobbing himself because of it. “What’s happened hm? What’s got you crying sweet?”

He knows what it is, he knows it’s because of the current state of their love but he’s hoping it’s something else. Wishing she’d tell him some asshole at work upset her. He just wants her to tell her it’s not because of him but he knows she won’t. He knows it is.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. it’s fine.”

“Hey, hey no, listen to me. If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.” He’s pulling away from her to look her in the eyes and she doesn’t know what to do. He’s being so gentle with her. He’s talking to her like he used to, like he cares. It’s so alien to her, she’s been missing his love for so long, she can’t react to it in any way other than to start crying again. She’s held it together for so long and she can’t love and be loved like this anymore.

“What happened to us H?” Her words are shaky, there’s silent tears still finding their way down her cheeks and she’s staring at him with tired eyes.

“What do you mean poppet?” He hates himself for asking, because he knows what she means, he just needs to hear her say it.

“I mean when did we become this? When did our love become tainted and grey? You don’t kiss me anymore H, you don’t tell me you love me and I miss you. I miss you so much and that doesn’t make sense because you’re right here! But you’re not here the way I want you to be. The way I need you to be. I need you to be here Harry. I need you to be here loving me again.”

She spoke of her sadness and he took her words like daggers to the heart. His eyes are full of tears and regret and he doesn’t know what to do or say because she’s right. She tells him she loves him every night before they fall asleep and he cant even remember the last time he said it back. He’s looking at her and he knows it’s his turn to talk but he just doesn’t know what to say. What he does know? He knows he needs her to know that he still loves her. That he’s never stopped.

“I- I am so sorry my love. I love you, I love you so much. You’ve gotta know that. I can’t- I just- I love you.” He can’t think of anything else to say, settles for kissing her and as he does his hands are holding her face and his eyes are squeezed shut and the coldness in the house seems to be lifted and left replaced by warmth. They pull apart to breathe and he’s kissing her face, leaving no trace of skin untouched, whispering coos of “I love you” and “I’m sorry” and she smiling. She’s genuinely smiling because they’re finding their way back to each other. Their love isn’t lost. The storm is over. Their hearts are home.

anonymous asked:

Today has been an awful day. Can you doodle something cute for me to help me feel better?

Dear sweet anon, I wanted to make you a really nice piece of art, but I’m so sleepy that I keep doing that silly lil head-bounce thing. You know the one.

So here is a sketch of a smol chibi Host to cheer you up. 

I think I’m gonna make an “honorable mentions” section on the Markiplier Positivity Pieces page, because this definitely doesn’t count as one, but it’s Mark related AND positive, so, y’know. If someone was like, “I just want to hecking see some Mark stuff that makes me happy,” it’s all in one place.

I’m sleepy babbling now. Sorry, lovely.

I do hope you have a better day, and if not, I hope you have the courage to believe that better days will come.


(I’m also going to tag @markired here, because I know they love this lil cinnamon bun. The more people I can maybe make smile, the better!)