i was in a rush when i wrote this

Beanies and Negotiations (Part 2)

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

Part one here

Anon requests: Could you PLEASE do a second part for beanies and negotiations?! I loved it!!

Another part for beanies and negotiations! Puh-lease

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Archie observes Jughead and (Y/N)’s relationship, and realizes it’s not just his beanie that Jughead lets (Y/N) wear

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,033

A/N: ah you guys I’m so happy you’re enjoying my writing! I wasn’t planning on writing a second part for this piece, but since it was requested I wrote it for you guys. I was also gonna queue this and have it published later, but I’m so excited for you guys to read this! Enjoy!

Although he and Jughead had recently hit a rough patch in their relationship, Archie Andrews considered himself one of Jughead’s closest friends.  He also liked to believe that he knew his friend pretty well.  So when he saw (Y/N) roaming the halls wearing Jughead’s beanie, he was ecstatic.  He rushed through the school to find his friend.  In the lounge, Jughead stood with his arms crossed and raven hair exposed.

“Dude!” Archie exclaimed as he sauntered over to Jughead.  “Finally!”

“What are you talking about?” Jughead questioned, eyes narrowed.

“(Y/N), of course!” Archie answered.  “You asked her out, right?”  Jughead shifted and uncrossed his arms.

“No,” he scoffed, but his voice wavered a bit.  “Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s wearing your beanie,” Archie stated like it was obvious.  “The last time you took that thing off is when you proposed to her when we were six.”

“We were six,” Jughead emphasized, slightly leaning forward.

“But you like her,” Archie said.  Jughead opened his mouth to reply, but no smart remarks came out.  Instead, he closed his mouth and looked away from Archie, sighing.  “Ask her out, man.”  Pursing his lips, Jughead shook his head and walked away.  Archie sighed and turned around, spotting Veronica and Betty waving at him.

“Archie!” Veronica called, beckoning him over.  He moved to the couch they were sitting at and stood in front of the two girls.


“You’ve seen (Y/N) wearing Jughead’s hat, too, right?” she asked.  Archie nodded.

“I don’t get it though,” he said.  “He never takes that thing off.  I asked Jughead if he asked her out, but he said no.  I figured she’d be wearing it because of that, since last time she wore Jughead’s beanie-”

“He proposed to her,” Betty finished, and Archie nodded.  All three of them simultaneously sighed.

“God he looked so smitten yesterday,” Veronica groaned.  Archie sent her a questioning look.  “Betty and I were at Pop’s yesterday, and we saw Jughead and (Y/N) there.  She had stolen his beanie and he was trying to get it back, but he was enjoying it. I swear he could barely contain his smile.”

“Yeah,” Betty smiled in agreement.  “They’re both smitten.”

Archie, Betty, and Veronica thought that the beanie incident was a one-time thing.  However, they were proven wrong when they spotted (Y/N) sitting in Pop’s wearing Jughead’s jacket a week later.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Veronica greeted, sitting down next to her.  “Where’s Jughead?”

“Working at the drive-in tonight,” (Y/N) answered, smiling.  Betty and Archie slid into the booth seat across from them.  

“Is that Jughead’s jacket?” Archie bluntly asked.  (Y/N) looked down at what she was wearing.

“Oh crap!” she exclaimed. “I forgot to give this back to him!” Veronica smirked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you holding onto it for a bit,” she laughed, causing (Y/N) to smile and nod.

“Why’d he give it to you in the first place?” Betty inquired.  (Y/N) bit her lip.

“We were walking home from school, and I had forgotten my jacket at home.  I was shivering, and Jug insisted that I took his,” she explained. Archie affectionately rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Smitten,” he mumbled under his breath.

The next incident was two weeks later at a football game.  (Y/N) had promised her friends that she would come to the game to support them, and she managed to drag Jughead along with her.  Archie smirked when he saw them sitting together in the stands, knowing that it probably wasn’t too hard for (Y/N) to convince Jughead to come.

After the game, (Y/N) and Jughead got off the bleachers and walked over to the field where Archie, Betty, and Veronica were standing.

“You guys were all great tonight!” (Y/N) complimented, beaming at her friends.  They all smiled in gratitude, when suddenly Archie furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is that-” he paused for a moment, contemplating how to phrase his question.  “Is that a new flannel?”  Betty and Veronica shot him confused looks, whereas Jughead and (Y/N)’s fidgeted as their cheeks grew red.

“Uh, nope,” (Y/N) awkwardly laughed.  “It’s Jughead’s actually.”

“What?” Betty and Veronica exclaimed at the same time.  Archie suppressed a smirk.

“It was raining before,” (Y/N) stated, and Archie noticed Jughead refusing to make eye contact with him, “and we got drenched because neither of us had an umbrella.  Jughead had a dry flannel and let me wear it.” She shrugged at the end of her explanation, playing with the sleeves of Jughead’s flannel.  Archie was tempted to ask (Y/N) why she didn’t just change into some of her own clothes, but he decided not to for her and Jughead’s sakes. Betty and Veronica shared a knowing glance.  Finally, Archie managed to catch Jughead’s eye.  He smirked and Jughead rolled his eyes, but the small smile on his face didn’t go unnoticed by Archie.

Archie would have completely missed the last incident if it wasn’t for Veronica.  Some weeks later they were sitting at lunch with (Y/N), waiting for Betty and Jughead to arrive at their table.

“(Y/N), that sweater is really big on you,” Veronica noted, critiquing her outfit.  “Please tell me you didn’t just buy that.”  (Y/N) smiled bashfully.

“No,” she responded, “I’ve had it lying in my room for a while.  Figured I should put it to use.”  Veronica scrunched up her nose.

“You shouldn’t have. Not to be rude, girl, but green is not your color.”

“Oh well,” (Y/N) laughed. “I’ll remember that next ti-”

“That’s Jughead’s, isn’t it?” Archie interrupted.  (Y/N) bit her lip and pulled the sweater sleeves over her hands.

“Maybe,” she mumbled, looking down into her lap.  Archie and Veronica smirked.

“You know what, (Y/N)?” Veronica said.  “Never mind what I just said.  That does suit you.”  (Y/N)’s cheeks grew bright red.

“Oh god, guys,” she moaned, but they could hear the smile in her face.  Jughead and Betty soon walked over to the table and joined the group.  During their lunch, Archie would occasionally glance over at Jughead and (Y/N).  He frequently saw one staring at the other.  Smiling at his friends, Archie couldn’t fathom how neither of them realize how smitten they were with each other.  

It all started with that damn beanie.

Part 3 here   Part 4 here


real special ones @nianiaandrews and @kellyrowland
wanted it to feel like that feeling u get, when u warming up for the talent show in jr high school. nia and kelly are too good , so I played them the demo like two times so we would still have the learning spirit. we did 3 takes, then we all had to rush and pick up our sons. i appreciate them so much. when I first started writing junie and asked andre’ to jump on it….he pushed me to find some optimism and positivity in the narrative…to look forward and beyond with it. i wrote this right after, as kind of a joke. but i meant it. still thinking about junie. still thinking about the super spirit.

ink-stained apologies // reggie mantle soulmate au pt2

Ink-Stained Apologies (Part two to Ink-Stained Skin)

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Reggie thinks he’s found his soulmate. (Y/N) insists that it’s not her.


“It’s you!” he exclaimed, rushing over to her.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Reginald. I found my soulmate a long time ago.”

“Oh, really?” He smirked at the girl “Who is it? Don’t try to say that it’s Keller because we all know he’s Moose’s soulmate.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you, Reggie. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a lesson to get to.” (Y/N) forced a smile before walking off.

Almost as if it was instinct he followed her, quick on her heels. “Don’t bullshit me, (L/N). Prove to me that I’m not your soulmate.”

“Reggie, I really don’t want to disappoint you, I’m so sorry that I’m not her.”

“Then prove it to me. Write something, pinch yourself. Whatever, just prove it to me because God knows how long I’ve been looking for my soulmate.”

(Y/N) frowned, looking up at Reggie. He looked down at her, seeing the remorse in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Reginald, but you’ll find her soon.”

Reggie watched as (Y/N) walked off, feeling more determined to figure out who his soulmate was. He wasn’t going to give up that easy.

There were three moments of weakness that led to (Y/N) almost revealing herself to Reggie. The first was when he wrote to her on his birthday, claiming that his parents had argued and that his birthday wasn’t the same as when he was younger.

‘i know u dont reply but its my birthday :D’

‘my mom and dad argued in front of all my friends, soulmate. it was so embarrassing! i want it to be like my eighth birthday :(’

Looking down at her arm and the pen that she held in it, she fought her urge to reply to his message written on the back of her left forearm. She could feel the sadness that ran through his body. She could feel the pain in his chest as he wrote the words on his arm.

“Mom, he’s hurt” she frowned “He’s not allowed to be sad. It’s his birthday. Mom, it really hurts. I can’t breathe.”

“(Y/N), sweetheart, you’re worried for him. It’s what comes with soulmates.” Her mother paused for a while “You and your soulmate are not only soul-bound but you’re also physically bound to each other. You have a rare bond and never, ever take it for granted because it’ll, one day, be useful to you.”

The second time it happened was during freshman year, when Reggie had sprained his wrist so bad during training that the pain of it had woken (Y/N) up from her nap. She held her wrist as if it was on the brink of snapping off, fighting the tears back. Reggie had written multiple apologies, her arm was practically covered in his messy writing.

‘oh my god! im so sorry, soulmate.’

‘im so so SO sorry!’

’:( i hope i didnt hurt u too much :(’

She felt the pain that rushed up his arm with every apology he wrote. She picked up a pen that lay on top of the books that sat next to her on her bed, clicking it before dropping it and walking towards the bathroom to erase the proof of her soulmate.

The following day, she approached him, with all intentions of wishing him a speedy recovery, in the hallway as he stood leaning against his locker. She noticed and felt that his arm had been wrapped up tightly in a bandage or maybe it was just the pressure of the bandage on her own arm “Twinning?” he raised his eyebrow at her, as he noticed “What did you do?”

“Oh, I-I, kinda, fell down the stairs?”

Reggie let out a small laugh “Is that a question or is that what actually happened?”

“God, I cannot stand you, Reginald. Hope your arm gets better soon. Don’t want number fourteen off the team for too long.”

“Was that a compliment? You know what, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirked as she let out a scoff

The final time was on her birthday. No one had remembered it and she was sat in her room wallowing in self pity. There was no writing on her skin, nothing. Not even Reggie could feel the emotion running through her veins. She picked up a pen and pressed it against her skin, ready to write:

‘hi, can we talk???’

but instead she dropped it and crawled into her bed, pushing the space bar on her laptop so it would play her scratched DVD of ‘A Walk to Remember’.

(Y/N) frowned as she sat on the bleachers watching the bulldogs train for their upcoming game. Her eyes were locked on Reggie’s form, watching him as he caught the ball from afar. “God, (Y/N), you’re so two-faced. I love it.” Veronica exclaimed.

“One minute, you’re all ‘Reginald, don’t be so egotistical, I hate you.’ the next you’re drooling over him and can’t even take your eyes off him.” Betty added.

“Oh my God! I’m friends with a group of idiots!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “He’s my soulmate, I’m allowed to drool over him.”

“Who’s your soulmate?” Reggie asked, including himself in the conversation. “I’m pretty sure that’s me. Talk to you tonight, (L/N).” He winked as he made his way back towards the field.

“Don’t count on it, Reginald!” she shouted back, a grin spread across her face.

“God, just fuck already.” Kevin shouted after him.

The tickling sensation grew on her left forearm, meaning only one thing. Reggie was at it again.

‘so, ready to admit that ur my soulmate?’

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the ink on her arm and continued to solve the algebraic question in front of her.

'ur not writing back b'cos u know im right ;)’

Ignoring him once again, she picked up her makeup remover and rubbed the ink off.

Reggie groaned after seeing the ink disappear from his arm. “What if (Y/N) is telling the truth? She’s probably not my soulmate. I mean my soulmate hasn’t written back.”

Moose and Chuck looked at each other before smacking Reggie around the back of his head. “Don’t be such a dick, Mantle. D'ya know how unlikely it would be for your soulmate and (Y/N) to hit their hips at the same time, unless your soulmate is, maybe, I don’t know, (Y/N)?”

The trio sat in silence, for awhile as Reggie took in the words of his friends, until Chuck broke the silence with the words “Dude, she literally calls you Reginald.”

“And?” Reggie said, confusion laced in his voice.

“You’d punch me if I even attempted to call you Reginald.” Chuck frowned.

“I’d punch you because you’re a dick.”

The following day, (Y/N) tried her hardest to avoid Reggie, but with their clashing schedules it was practically impossible. She sighed as she once again caught him looking in her direction, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Need something, Reginald?”

He shook his head and turned back to face the front, before turning back to face her again “Actually, yes, I do need something from you, (L/N). I need you to prove to me that you’re not my soulmate.”

Just before she could reply the bell had rang, signalling that it was the end of the school day. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).” Reggie shouted after her.

She sat at her desk, tapping her pen against it, as she, yet again, procrastinated her biology questions. Her phone vibrated, signalling an incoming call from Kevin. As soon as she answered, she was met with her best friend screaming down the phone. “I’m on my way over to pick you up! We’re going to Moose’s party.”

He picked up a grape before throwing it in the air and attempting to catch it in his mouth, failing as his eyes locked with Archie, who was stood next to (Y/N), his arm around her shoulder. Reggie pushed himself from the couch and strode his way over to (Y/N) and her red-haired friend.

“Hey, Andrews. Mind if I borrow (Y/N) for a second?”

“Sure, dude. Just don’t do anything stupid!”

Reggie took (Y/N)’s hand in his, pulling his hand away from hers when he felt a spark at the skin to skin contact. He looked at (Y/N), instantly apologising. Her mind flickering over to the time he sprained his wrist and covered her arm in ink-stained apologies.

“What do you want, Reginald?” she said, sending a genuine smile at him for the first time in weeks. Reggie positioned himself in front of her so he could face her. He noted down everything about (Y/N). The way her eyes shone almost as if they were a spotlight and the way she would crinkle her nose every time she let out a laugh.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. She didn’t need to know what he wanted to ask, she already knew.

“I want,” He paused, inching closer to her “you to,” He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her cheek “prove it.” By now, there was no distance between them, everything around them seemed to disappear. The smell of alcohol and cologne on him intoxicated her, if she were to pull away now, she would’ve craved the scent. If she pulled away now, she would’ve craved him. Using his right arm he tilted her head up, their lips meeting. She was taken by surprise at the softness and warmth of his lips, she had expected it to be horrendous, something that she would forget in later life; how could she when everything he did was near-perfection? As they pulled away, they stood, their foreheads leaning against each other, eyes still closed.

(Y/N) smiled at the boy in front of her. She looked over at the coffee table, picking up the pen that lay underneath the pile of red solo cups, writing on her arm:

'It’s me. I’m your soulmate.’

The Evolution of a Relationship

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Note: I was bored and decided to write these, this is the story of a relationship told in five important events. This has not been proofread, I wrote it spontaneously so let’s hope it’s good. 

Warnings: nothing y’all it’s fluff

Word Count:1,964

Tagged: @tallish-hobbit @hamiltonsquills @rottwat @iamgrayfox @justanotherone2u @angesansnom @lupinschocolatefrog @butlinislin @eternallyademon @i0do0not0knoe @iamindeedapotato @tailored-shirt-tails @ordinaryornate @star-trek-supernatural @femilton@noluckmonday @haletotheking24 @hmltntrsh51

First Meeting

The first time you met Daveed, you walked right into his chest. 

You were running late to work, rushing through busy streets and trying to send your boss an email when suddenly you walked straight into a solid chest.

You almost fell on your ass, but a hand reached out and grabbed a hold of your arm.

“I am so sorry!” You exclaimed, looking up into the face of possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. “I-I’m running late and, and I was trying to send an email and I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you explain, trying your best to stop rambling.

“No it’s okay, I wasn’t paying attention either,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips.

You took a breath, admiring the way his smile seemed to light up his face.

“Thank you, for catching me.”

“It’s no problem,” He chuckled, a warm sound that caused a smile to grow on your own face. Until you realized that this pause made you even later to work.

“Oh my god! I have to go I’m gonna be late!” You exclaimed.

Keep reading

Because I love those hours before the sun comes up, when you wake up for a moment and you realize you can stay in bed just a little while longer. And you’re safe. And there’s no rush. And it’s quiet. For all my hub loves. xo Pre-pancakes, so it’s v smutty. Don’t get me wrong, it’s highly emotional and descriptive, but it’s still porn. To experience the full mood of this thing, I’d recommend listening to Max Richter’s “Three Worlds” as you read.  @captainwiley @dassala @the-reason-to-sail-home @thejollypirate @businesscasualprincess @shoedonym @katie-dub @abbadons-little-witch @swanandapirate @mahstatins

+ It’s dark when she opens her eyes. Not the dark of late evening, when the stars have begun to twinkle in the sky—when the only sound to be heard is the choral chirping of insects, the darkening of doorways. No, it’s a darkness that knows it will have to fade eventually, a grey dawn that casts their bedroom in a hazy, dreamlike glow.

A nippy, quiet breeze smelling suspiciously of rain tiptoes through the open window and she catches the scent of him on the air. It’s a spicy mixture of cologne and sweat, a warm, enticing blend that clashes wonderfully with the fresh, tingling wetness of an impending storm. She can feel his rough, weathered fingers against the bare flesh of her waist. The tap, tap, tapping of his thumb against her belly. The smooth, hard metal of his ring against her stomach not unlike the steady ringing of a church bell, a far off song, a call to his side.

Keep reading


“Thank you.” works too Yaoyorozu-san.

When i wrote “A human sized bomb” I thought of Bakugou… is that bad to laugh at it?!

Shouto : “I’m back.”
Fuyumi : “Welcome b- What is this?!” ;
Shouto : “A gift from a classmate.”
Fuyumi : (You’re finally making friends Shouto, I’m so glad.) “But why did you freeze it?”
Shouto : “It’s a russian bomb. It would be dangerous if someone opened it”
Fuyumi : “HUH?!” ;

I just cleaned and colored a fan-comic I did for april fool. But I think i got lazy in the end and rush it or maybe it’s because it was 5AM… haha!

amoralamusement  asked:

Hello, I always enjoy the work on this Tumblr. It's informative, interesting, and satisfying. Anyway, being an Ne dom like yourself, do you have any tips to not be overwhelmed by Ne a.k.a. How to Train Your Ne? I admit there are times when the ideas are buzzing and I yearn for stimulation then I become drained to the point of being physically tired.

Good timing, since I was just reading about Si-grips last night and realizing I basically live in one six months out of the year. :P

I’m not sure exactly what you mean, so I’ll cover all the bases I can think of.

There’s pretty much four stages in my life:

Ne-dom Extraordinaire: this is when you are the unbeatable monarch in your field, when you are on such a roll that not only do you finish your project ahead of the damn deadline, you went ahead and did sixteen other magnificent things that day too, just because your brain was on such a rush of SO MANY IDEAS. For example: you felt good about finishing your essay, so you wrote six movie reviews, four e-mails, 26 blog posts, and worked on your book to boot. And then you went to bed with a smile on your face because damn, I’m so fine.

Ne-dom Uninspired: this is when you feel “meh.” Not awesomesauce, not the lowest of the low, just plain MEH. Meh for a Ne-dom equals: semi-bored, semi-uninspired, semi-annoyed about it. Now, a sane person on this day goes and watches 24 episodes of ALIAS in a row to chill. Me, I FORCE myself to be ‘creative.’ And because I’m generally good at what I do, it comes out fine. Not knock your socks off stupendous, not awful, not even average, just fine. But it feels like dragging my brain through a cheese grater and I go to bed mad that my Ne-brain was lazy as hell today. Like, it’s supposed to be AMAZING all the time!!! What’s up with this?!

Ne-dom Bored-as-Hell: generally, this happens when your life is stagnant, or you are stuck on the same god-awful project for weeks, or your friends have not spoken to you in days, and you are so bored you can hardly stand it, but NOTHING appeals to you. You crave something, but don’t know what it is. You drag yourself through the work / school day like a fish on dry land, you scope the depths of depression, you maybe force yourself to do stuff, but it’s a clear indication that your Ne is STARVING TO DEATH. You must feed it. How? That’s up to you. Get in the car and drive. Go hang out with someone. Start learning something new. Read a book that you know you’ll hate, and blow your own mind by loving it. Try something totally, radically different.

Don’t be like me, and dye your hair purple and cut into a punk rock style. Although, God knows I looked adorable.

Ne-dom Work-a-Holic: also known as tunnel vision, also known as inferior Si grip, also known as the perfect way to make yourself exhausted at the end of the day. Picture a nice normal Ne being a freight train barreling through a tunnel at 976 miles per hour. Now picture a peasant maiden (or peasant lad, if that’s you’re thing) running out onto the tracks, and holding it in place for about 15 hours. It grinds to a halt, its wheels start to smoke, and the peasant maiden/lad is inching forward at, oh, about 6 miles per hour. Fast by her standards, slow by yours. Now imagine that’s what happens to your Ne, when you develop tunnel vision. All that power, going nowhere fast. Imagine the tremendous energy that just ground to a halt. The creeping subconscious despair of the engineer. You are both the peasant maiden/lad and the freight train. See the problem? You are ripping yourself apart. How’s that peasant maiden/lad going to feel at the end of the day?

Yup. Exhausted.

Now, what if that peasant maiden does this day after day for about a week?

Exhausted. Mental exhaustion, from holding back the train, forcing Ne to stay on one topic, or focus on “boring” things for days on end. Where’s the fun? Where’s the zany? Where’s the sarcasm and jokes and random connections? Hello, inferior Si. Obsessive compulsive, aren’t you? Fixated. BAD.

How to Train Your Ne:

1) Give yourself permission to stick to one idea for awhile.

I get it. You will have thousands of great ideas in a single lifetime, or maybe even a week. If you follow all of them right now, you will never finish anything. Do what I do: think about them, ponder them, don’t let them get too developed, and write down the ones you want to hold onto, put them in a jar, and… walk away with the biggest, shiniest, most exciting idea you just had. The others will keep. Let them stew in their juices. Focus on THIS IDEA.

2) Reward yourself for finishing things.

If you want to accomplish something, give your Ne what it wants – a challenge, and a reward. I used to motivate myself through “boring” tasks by setting time deadlines and writing like a bat out of hell, or dividing the task up into separate shorter parts that I can cross off after I do them. That shows me I am making progress. Right now, I’m sitting next to a half-crossed-off list of chapters in my book, which I am proof-reading / editing. Each time a pink line goes through someone’s name, I know I’m THIS MUCH CLOSER to finishing. THIS MUCH CLOSER to starting a NEW project. THIS MUCH CLOSER TO THAT PIECE OF CHOCOLATE I PROMISED MYSELF.


3) Accept that you cannot be at 110% all the time.

This may be hard for you to hear, but you’re a normal human being. You need sleep. You need rest. You need food. You need days off, and dates, and to go places, and be with people, and do things other than your job or your school or writing or whatever it is that occupies 90% of your time. Those normal things that a sensor can do without much fuss, wear you out. Tedious details wear you out. Planning wears you out. Keeping track of things wears you out. The temptation when this happens is to under-estimate what you, as a low Si, needs – which is a break. You tend to way overestimate what you can do in a single week, and sometimes you get way too much on your plate… so, if you know about things in advance that are going to “drain” your Ne, because it requires other, lower functions to be heavily used in your stack, plan to limit your interaction with those functions in excess of your responsibilities.

In other words, if you (me) have to do a bunch of tedious line-editing at work, it is not a good idea for me to come home and do… a bunch of tedious line-editing on my novel at the same time. That’s all Te/Si stuff.

Ne-stuff is… new ideas, new people, new philosophies, reading things that excite your mind and imagination and help you see things in a different way, or watching something new, or going somewhere where you can just be yourself. Your Ne cannot run on full power all the time, especially when you’re trying to hold back the freight train – so give yourself permission to take time off.

4) Pace yourself.

This piggybacks on the above, but as a Ne-dom, you way over-estimate how much you can do physically. Things like going places, driving for hours, being in crowds, walking long distances, etc., are tiring to someone with minimal sensing. Ne-doms need down time, to process their experiences. You are an introverted extrovert. Remember that, and give yourself down time. Try not to be out and about 24/7. But don’t stay home all the time either. That’s a cesspool of Ne-draining boredom waiting to happen.

5) Either do it right now or write it down.

My usual pattern is: get a good thought about 10pm. Then springboard into another idea. Then zip over that way for more ideas. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, telling myself to go to sleep, while thinking about everything I should talk about, investigate, or do in the morning. By morning, of course, either the ideas are all gone or I have lost any motivation to do them. Some of my best work is from dropping everything and doing it RIGHT NOW. Strike while the iron is hot, my dander is up, whatever. Some of my best short stories or articles came from getting up at 5am and pounding the keyboard. So, do it NOW… or write it down. If you write it down, you won’t have to try and remember it (also a chore for Ne).

The best things you can do for your Ne are the following:

  • Accept that this is who I am, and it’s okay.
  • Realize that mundane or tedious tasks drain your Ne
  • Let your mind wander
  • Give yourself permission to fantasize
  • Reward periods of the mundane with fun activities
  • Never let a week go by without planning something ‘fun’
  • Stimulate yourself with constant NEW things (books, movies, music)
  • Read a wide variety of things on a continual basis
  • Give yourself challenges and deadlines to beat
  • Make sure they are SHORT-TERM (you cannot stay too long)
  • Always have something in the immediate future to look forward to

Hope that helps.

(This week on tumblr has been DULL. Is it just me or is it dead?! Thank God for a new Doctor Who tomorrow! I need me some NEW Capaldi + Bill Potts. I totally want to be her best friend and hang out in space and eat blue cubes together.)

- ENFP Mod

anonymous asked:

Since i wasn't feeling good today, I had a thought.. What IF one of the children gets sick ? Like imagine Aizawa trying to separete the sick one from the healty ones and then getting a panic attack when another gets ill. Jest imagine(And can i have a hug ? Please?)

Aaaah, I’m so sorry to hear that, anon! First of all, have the biggest hug I can offer!

Then, if you’re looking for “The-children-are-sick-and-Aizawa-cares-a-whole-lot”-fics, then there is this wonderful piece of fiction that izuqu wrote some time ago right here: 

Click the link

Just in case you need more of that cuteness.

And now, here we go!

(It’s slightly rushed, I only have a bit more than half an hour break, so I’m sorry if the quality lacks a bit! *bows*)


It had started off with a sneeze, loud and surprising.

Aizawa blinked one eye open almost instantly, shifting slightly where he was lying on the ground, wrapped in his sleeping bag, to gaze over at the living room couch. There, Uraraka was taking a tissue from Tsuyu with a sniffled “Thanks”, tooting into it.

“Uraraka-san, are you alright?” Iida asked, immediately at the girl’s side before Aizawa could even move to stand up.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Just my nose is a bit itchy!” The girl hurried to reassure, even though her voice was nasally and hoarse. Her face was slightly red and she sneezed again before she could even finish her sentence…

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Regret Filled Tears

Member: Jungkook

Genre: Pure Angst 

Word Count: 1.1k 

Summary: Things never go as planned and there is always bound to be regret. 

A/N: I admit that this probably isn’t my best writing as I wrote this on a whim and because I’m not feeling too great (when am I ever feeling good nowadays?) So instead of holding in all the pain, I just word vomited a little. 

Originally posted by jengkook

“We need to stop.”

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With You Tonight - Thomas Imagine (SMUT)

❁ (not my gif, cred to sweet owner) ❁

A/N: Okay so I haven’t written any Thomas imagines for so long or any at all since my fic so I decided to write a little something. Haha I don’t know where I was trying to go with this one… so my bad if it’s bad. Hopefully it isn’t too bad. And sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes etc. Also for any autocorrect mistakes since I wrote this one on my phone.


Pairing: Thomas x Reader
Warning: Smut!
Word count: 1675

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Little Bird - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

A/N: For my third fic, we bring you… STEVE!

Taglist: @courtneychicken

Summary: When he hears screaming in your bedroom, good ol’ Captain America rushes in to save the day. It’s a good thing it’s not the pleasured kind of screaming.

Warnings: Steve scares me sometimes. No language, overprotective fathers, and cutesy fluff.

Other Notes: If you’re also AFAB you can probably relate to period cramps - if not, that’s okay. I wrote this with them in mind but the cramps you can attribute to just about any condition… gender neutral! Okay, I think that’s all I have to say.

“Why did you scream like that?”

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Imagine Chris freaking out about you. (Part A)

A/N: Part 5 is in two letter parts, why? ‘Cause I’m a monster. No shit, I was crying so hard when I wrote this. You can read the previous parts here: (‘Charlotte Rose’ - Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4) and (‘Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts’; ‘Baby Fever’; 'Memory Lane’; and 'Little Ones’ - Masterlist) Enjoy. X

June 23, 2019; you were thirty-two weeks and Chris was still experiencing the pregnancy with you. Alex was right when he said “they’re surprisingly understanding at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.” After signing a contract with them, they told both their writer and their director that they were in no rush to start production and could wait until their power couple had their second child before they cracked the hammer. Needless to say, you and Chris were both incredibly grateful to them. It also gave the two of you a chance to assure them that the movie was going to be amazing because it meant you had more time to plan, review, and refine.

At 1:48AM, Chris was still going strong with scene twenty-eight; you, however, had fallen victim to exhaustion and was now fast asleep. Chris looked over at you and chuckled softly, carefully taking your glasses from your face and putting your worn copy of your script aside. He reached for a cashmere throw and was about to cover you with it when you woke due to a sharp, stabbing pain in your abdomen.

“Oh my God,” your hand flew to your stomach as tears filled your eyes. “Chris,” you whimpered, grabbing his wrist with a tight squeeze. His entire body went numb when he saw how pale your lips were becoming from the pain you were experiencing from your sudden contractions; the pain was like your worst period cramps, but ten times more intense. “What’s happening?”

“Breathe,” he advised, trying to do the same himself as he didn’t want to start freaking out too. “We’re only thirty-two weeks, you can’t be-” He cut himself off when you whimpered again, squeezing your eyes shut as you grimaced. “We gotta go to the hospital, I’m going- I’m going to take you to the hospital.” He peeled your hand off his wrist then rose to his feet, scrambling a little as he was on the verge of a panic attack himself.

“No, wait,” you panted; Chris turned around with narrowed eyes. “It’s- um-” you managed a smile because you didn’t want to worry him. “It’s fine, it’s not pa-” A blinding pain shot through you and you cried, making Chris flinch. “Oh my God!” You felt the tears spill out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks. “No, stop,” you shook your head as you saw your husband reach for his phone. “I’m fine, Chris. I’m fin-” you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from crying out as you experienced another contraction.

“You are not fine,” he ignored you as he dialed for Scott; someone needed to look after Jack while he took you to the hospital and he was the closest being only half an hour away. “We’re going to the hospital, Y/N,” he asserted as he rejoined your side, taking your cold hand in his. “You’re freezing,” he muttered to himself.

You tried to sit up straight when you felt something warm flow out of you, you looked down and saw blood which sent you into a panic. “Chris,” you squeezed his hand and he turned to you. “I’m in trouble,” you told him and he frowned. “I’m bleeding,” you started to cry as you beckoned his gaze to your pants.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “Let’s go, let’s go now.” He helped you to your feet with his phone held up by his shoulder. “We’re- Scott! Scott, oh my God. We need you to meet us at Boston General, Y/N’s bleeding and we don’t- We need you to come get Jack. Please, hurry!” He hung up then supported you as you made your way to the front door.

“What’s happening, Chris?” You couldn’t stop crying and Chris’ eyes were starting to water too. “What’s going to happen to our- Oh, God!” You cried, hunching over as you stopped walking. “No no no,” you whimpered as you started to sob. “I can’t lose her, Chris!” You screamed when he tried to get you to continue walking.

“Hey hey,” he knelt down in front of you, taking both hands in his. “We’re not going to lose her, okay? Look at me, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine, you just have to let me get you to the hospital. Just breathe, baby. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you.” You turned away from him, choking on your tears. “Believe in me, I’m going to take care of you.”

“What’s going on?” Jack’s voice turned both your heads. He and Dodger were awoken by the commotion; he stood on the staircase rubbing his sleepy eyes, whereas Dodger had gone into alert mode and rushed to your side. “Mama, are you okay?”

“I’m-” You bit the inside of your cheek again, not wanting to scare Jack and Dodger more. You reached down and patted Dodger when he nudged his head into your leg, giving him a weak smile. “I’m fine,” you nodded at Chris who was clearly at wits end with worry.

“Bud, come here.” Chris rose to his feet and beckoned Jack over with his hand; Jack ran over and Chris scooped him into his arms. “We’re going to the hospital, okay? Uncle Scott’s going to pick you up from there while I check Mama in.” Jack nodded as he looked over at you, his small face filled with worry. “She’s going to be fine, I’m just going to need your help to keep her calm in the car. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Jack nodded. “I’ll walk,” he said as he got his dad to put him down, “you help Mama.”

Jack grabbed his jacket and put on his shoes himself while Chris helped you with yours, trying not to start crying every time you’d whimper or cry out with pain. He made Jack take your hand while he put on his own shoes and jacket, keeping an eye on you the entire time. He told Dodger to stay as he and Jack helped you out, locking the door behind the three of you. You heard Dodger bark a couple times before he quieted down; your heart ached for the pup. Chris helped you into the back seat then helped Jack with his car seat before he got in and drove out to the hospital.

“Mama, it’s going to be okay.” Jack squeezed your hand as you cried softly, breathing through the pain that you wanted to faint from. “You’re going to be okay.” He shared a glance with his dad through the rear view mirror, managing a smile when he saw his dad manage one.

Scott had reached the hospital before the three of you did, he was standing outside the entrance with a nurse and a wheelchair. They rushed over to help you into the chair, asking you questions that you were too panicked to answer so Chris did for you. Scott scooped Jack up and followed behind Chris who was wheeling you behind the nurse.

They took you up to Obstetrics ward and called your gynecologist from there while the resident doctor examined you. Chris stayed by your side the entire time, whereas Scott and Jack waited in the waiting room. The doctor and nurses hooked you up to several machines, checking your blood pressure, temperature, and pulse- which they also did for the baby, making sure her heart was still beating as you couldn’t feel her moving inside you anymore. After deliberating with your gynecologist on the phone, they decided it was best if she came in to help you deliver the baby immediately via c-section.

“Chris,” you cried softly as they prepped you for surgery; your husband held your hand tightly, a little worried that things would turn out badly in the OR. “If anything happens-” You began because you had the same concerns, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“Don’t you even dare,” he managed a soft chuckle with very limited humor; it was his only way to stop himself from crying. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Y/N. I’m going to be right outside waiting for you to join me in becoming parents to two beautiful children, okay?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, squeezing his hand tightly. “I don’t want to do this alone.” You shook your head, your lower lip quivered as you tried to stop yourself from crying. “I can’t do this alone, I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes you are,” he brushed your hair back, smiling. “You are the strongest person I have ever met in my entire life, Y/N. Not even Captain America can live up to your level of strength and bravery.” You managed a smile through your fears and tears. “And you are not alone, I am with you always.” He placed his hand on your heart. “Always, Y/N.”

“We’re ready,” the nurse informed you and Chris; you both tensed immediately. “Dr. Vanderbilt is waiting in the OR.” You tightened your grip on Chris’ hand, shaking your head at him because you didn’t want to go in. “You’ll see each other in a few hours.” The nurse shot Chris a look because she was going to need him to let you go seeing as you weren’t going to let him go.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be fine.” He assured you. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?” You shook your head, tightening your grip as he tried to loosen it. “Baby, you’re going to be okay. I promise you, you’re going to be okay. Trust me, trust yourself, and trust our daughter. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” he promised as you felt your grip loosen. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He gently caressed your face and kissed your lips before taking a step back so they could wheel your gurney into the OR.

He held up his hand, giving you a small wave until you disappeared behind the doors. He let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned against the wall, feeling tears well his eyes. With his arms crossed over his chest and his head buried in his hand, he waited to see you again.

Tags: @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @chrisevans-imagines @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja @elizabeth-matsuoka @thegirlwiththeimpala @camerica96 @all-of-the-above11 Tags are open, inbox me if you want to be added.

Part 5B coming soon.

here’s my fragile heart (klangst) part 2

(thanks for all the support! this one skims the surface of Lance’s insecurities and also shows how much Keith cares :3 next part will feature galra Keith)

Of course Shiro assigns Lance and Keith (who are still extremely awkward after the whole one-sided confession thing) on a mission to answer a distress call, and of course it’s really just a bunch of galra on an empty planet. While all the other paladins are out on other missions. Because why the heck not.

“Keith, buddy, back me up here!” Lance shouts through the comm as he ducks behind a weird cactus-like plant that grows all over this barren, deserted planet. He visibly gulps as a galra soldier blasts a nearby plant to smithereens. “I sure hope Allura and Coran come soon,” Lance mutters under his breath.

“… coming,” Keith replies hesitantly, though he doesn’t hesitate to expertly slice through several soldiers launching themselves at him. He darts through the wave of soldiers, cleanly cutting most of them with his bayard; the ones he doesn’t get are handled by Lance, whose perfect shot takes them down efficiently. Keith thinks they’ve got the upper hand until he hears a loud, piercing cry of pain from behind him. His mind automatically registers Lance.

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Please Don’t

||| For @orangettetwins |||

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Heavy Angst

Word Count: 247

Originally posted by btssavemylife

“I’m sorry but there happened to be some sort of technical problems, we will start soon.” Namjoon explained.

“Why don’t we answer some questions while we wait?” Hoseok added.

Jungkook was about to say something when suddenly the screen behind them turned on. He looked at it and to his horror he saw you tied to chair in a dark room. There was a piece of cloth around your mouth that prevented you from speaking. Your eyes were looking around in horror.

“Is this some kind of joke? Turn this shit off!!” Jungkook shouted.

An unkown person with a mask approached you.

“You have two choices.” the voice spoke. It was a woman’s voice. “BTS disbands and never sings again or I kill your girlfriend.”

“Get the fans out of the hall!” Seokjin ordered but the panic had already started.

“We will do it, just please, please don’t hurt Y/N!!” Jungkook pleaded.

“Oh, I’m sorry you were too late.” the woman replied stabbing you in the back.

“Nooo!! Oh my god my baby!!” Jungkook shouted and ran to the screen. The other members just watched in disbelief.

“You! You! You fucking bitch!! I swear I will kill you!!” Jungkook was swearing all over the place when the broadcast ended as suddenlly as it began. Jungkook’s legs started to tremble and he slumped on the floor and started crying. The other members rushed to comfort him.

“Don’t touch me!!” he shouted. “She’s gone. She’s gone…” he whispered.

A/N: I don’t know what I just wrote… The things people request…

Isn’t it Ironic

Um, did someone said BROANGTS? ….What do you mean ‘no’?

As, always, I blame you @kaxpha this is on you. 100%. No doubt. I’m a writier, I hold no responsability whatsoever. 

Oh, btw, this is like a small small drabble in where Shiro catches Keith’s Galra form by accident and he kinda snaps and her’s having an episode from when he was a prisioner so he starts attacking Keith not knowing it’s Keith and well…..yah.

It’s not that long, so, I don’t see the point of putting a ‘Read More’. *shurgs*

Also, I wrote this like, in a rush, so, I hope it’s decent enough and bla bla bla, excuse any mistakes it may have. 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesnt belong to me, du la di lu da. 


It’s ironic how a single color you never paid attention to before can become part of your worst nightmare.

It fills his vision. There’s only purple and a flash of gold before Shiro’s attacking. He’s merciless, he’s being control by the past and he doesn’t hesitate before he’s launching himself to the Galra a few feet from him.

Because there’s a Galra, casually walking around in the training room, nonchalant with his shoulders at ease but then he turns and Shiro catches his golden eyes widen in surprise when he sees him and then everything goes black for Shiro.

There’s a ringing sound in his ear but Shiro pays it no mind. His harsh pants and the choking noises the Galra are the only things filling his ears. There’s the faint sound of something dripping, like tap water that never got closed in the right way, and with a sharp realization, Shiro suddenly catches the sight of his own Garla arm glowing vividly while being buried deep inside a body.

He blinks groggily, as if coming back to from a dream, but then there’s a gagging noise and a soft sigh and as Shiro raises his eyes, he realizes that there are no dreams.

There are only nightmares.

“S-Shiro.” Keith whispers, a thin line of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as it makes its way to his chin slowly, “U-Ugh, S-Shiro?”

Shiro can only stare. He can only stare as his little brother’s hands pats weakly at his Galra arm that penetrates him in his stomach in a weak attempt to free himself. He can only stare as Keith’s soft purple skin fade and it leaves his pale skin behind with a new touch of grey on it, the sweat dripping from his forehead mixing itself with the stray tears that leave Keith’s eyes.

Keith gags once again and Shiro can only stare as Keith’s dark blue eyes lose their light at every passing tick.

“S-S-Shi –“

The ringing sound disappears and all that it’s left behind is pained screams coming from somewhere around them and Keith’s soft whisper.

“I-It’s okay.”

He doesn’t know how it happens but suddenly his arm leaves Keith’s body, his dark blue eyes rolling to the back of his head, then he’s falling and –

Before Shiro can even move to catch him, Lance’s pushing him back hard, tears falling down from his eyes as he gathers Keith’s limp body in his arms.

“K-Keith, Keith, baby, hold on, Keith, please, please, Corazon, Amor, please.” Lance sobs, brushing back Keith’s bangs out of his face as the black haired teen chokes on his own blood, “Sh, sh, baby, it’s okay, breath, please, you gotta – you gotta –“

Shiro can faintly hear Hunk’s sharp gasp and Pidge’s sobbing from behind but his eyes are solemnly on Lance and Keith as the brunet cries on the Red Paladin’s shoulder.

“P-Please, no.” Lance whimpers, “K-Keith.”

“Keith.” Shiro echoes, meek and small, voice cracking with fear, “K-Keith.”

He falls to his knees near the couple, raising a shaky hand towards them but suddenly Lance snarls at him, making Shiro to fall back on his ass as he stares wide at the brunet’s furious glare.

“G-Get away from him. Get –Get away from us. Get away. Get away.” Lance chants, shaking with sobs and tears, “Get away. Get away. GET AWAY!”

Shiro can only stare, jaw wide open as Lance continues to scream out of anger and grief, his heart breaking as the brunet nuzzles his face against Keith’s.

“P-Please, get away.” Lance whimpers, his tears falling harder as he feels Keith’s light touch on his cheek, “P-Please.”

Keith just hushes him gently, doing his best to push back the blood and breathe through his nose. He struggles, his breathing becoming slower by the second but as he keeps his hand caressing Lance’s cheek in comfort, Keith turns his face towards Shiro and meets his gaze.

Shiro’s heart stops when Keith stares at him in concern, love and forgiveness clear in his dark blue eyes and Shiro pushes down the lump in his throat as Keith’s mouth twitches in a ghost smile.


Keith’s hand falls limp from Lance’s cheek and as Keith breaths out his name, Shiro scream echoes down the Castle.

anonymous asked:

(Father's Comforting anon!) I loved what you wrote for it so much that I thought why not come back for some more! This time can I have Father!Bakugou and Father!Kirishima comforting their child after a nightmare and the S/O is still out for the time being. Thank you so much for this and for last time!

Sure thing lovely! I’m so very happy that you like what I wrote and I hope you’ll like this as well and that I could write it well enough! (adding to this post)


Bakugou is about to switch off the light in the living room and head to bed himself, when he notices that the door to his kid’s room opens. A moment later they sneak out, shoulders drawn tight and as soon as they see him, they rush over.

“Why are you up?” He asks, lifting his kid up and settling them on his arm, a frown appearing on his face. “It’s damn late, you should be sleeping.”

The kid swallows and small hands grab his shirt in tight fists. Bakugou subconsciously holds his child a little tighter. What is going on? His kid tugs their head into the crook of his neck as if to hide away.

“I had a nightmare.” They whisper, voice small and shaky.

Bakugou’s hand slips to their back and gives them a small squeeze, the frown deepening. “Shit, that sucks.” He murmurs and glances over to their room. If there is something he can fucking do about that, he damn well will. “Wanna talk about it?”

His kid quietly tells him about the dream, that something came and dragged them away and no one could hear them call for help. Bakugou’s heart clenches and he rubs his hand in small circles over his child’s back.

“No one will get you.” He says, still quietly but fiercely. “No damn one.” He kisses his kid on the crown of their head and carries them back to their room. “I’ll stay with you okay? The bad dream can’t get past me.”

His kid gives him a small, watery smile. “Because you’re stronger, right?”

Bakugou grins. “Hell yeah.” He lightly tickles their side to make them giggle. “I’ll keep you damn safe.”


Kirishima yawns and then stretches. He finished the last of the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. It’s later than he thought by now and he contemplates going to bed or watching a movie until his partner comes home, when he hears the sound of small feet.

Looking up, he sees his child glancing into the kitchen and as soon as they see him, they look relieved and walk over to him.

“Hey, everything okay?” Kirishima asks softly, crouching down to pick them up. When his kid shakes their head, he feels a sense of concern gnawing at his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare.” His child whispers, sounding upset and they cling to him as if he’s going to disappear. “There was a monster that wanted to eat me.”

Kirishima looks worried and gives their cheeks and forehead a couple of light, gentle kisses. “It’s okay now. It can’t hurt you.” He murmurs and wraps his arms securely around them, hugging them close. “Nothing can hurt you, you’re safe.”

He’s standing like that a while longer, hugging his child and letting them rest their head against his shoulder, whispering comforting words and rubbing a hand over their back. When he notices that his kid starts to look really sleepy again, he slowly walks towards their room.

“Ready to go back to bed?” He asks and when they look worried and unsure, he gives their forehead another kiss. “I’m going to stay with you. It’s okay, I won’t leave you alone.”

His kid nods and then pauses, glancing up at him, their voice quiet. “Can you check under the bed too?”

Kirishima smiles softly and reassuringly. “Of course.”

jemmassunrise  asked:

Hi!! If you aren't too busy (no rush :D) could you please write either 'things you said after it was over' or 'things you said when you thought I was asleep'? Your writing is fantastic and I hope you enjoyed the episode!!

Hello! Thank you so much, and I did enjoy the episode! Now I’m just dying while waiting for the rest of the season.

I did ‘things you said after it was over’ as I wrote a ‘things you said when you thought I was asleep’ awhile ago. (But I’ll write another version for you when I get through the other prompts people have sent!)


“So what now?” she asks, a single tear dropping from her face, but Fitz offers no answers. His brain has fizzled out; he can’t comprehend the blinking from existence of his friend, without fanfare, like it meant nothing. Lincoln sacrificed himself for a world that will never know his name and Fitz just doesn’t know why they hadn’t been faster, smarter, better.

He’ll never be able to unstick Daisy’s aching sobs from his mind, and he’ll never forgive himself for reaching for Jemma and thinking only, thank god it wasn’t you.

They choke their way through a stunned debrief that is less debrief and more an awkward attempt to provide comfort Daisy refuses to accept. After, Jemma drags Fitz back into her bunk and kisses him so hard it bruises. Mine, she is saying against his lips, his throat, his chest, and he gives her everything she’s ever needed because it’s all he knows how to do.

She cries out in pleasure and then she just cries. The only time Fitz feels whole is when he’s buried inside of her, so he holds her against his sweaty skin and lets her tears scrub at his sins.

“I just wanted a vacation with you,” Jemma whispers, breath tickling against his chest. “I thought we’d sorted Hive and I just wanted to leave and I thought I’d never been happier in my whole life.”

Her words break something loose within his lungs. “I’ve never been happier either,” he admits, but happy isn’t quite the right word for it. Relieved, maybe. Grateful. He had seen in Daisy’s breakdown what everyone else must have seen as he fought against a monolith he had no hope of beating.

But he had emerged from hell with sunlight in his arms, and the universe hadn’t even allowed Daisy a body to bury.

“What can we do?” she asks, and he’s not sure if she’s asking about the team or Daisy or their own future.

“I don’t know,” he answers, when he realizes this is the only answer he can give her for anything. The conflicting desires and fears are churning in his stomach until he feels nauseated with them, but Jemma is safe and for now that’s all he will allow himself to need.

“So what now?” she asks, a single tear running down her face as they stare at the security footage, as Mack holds up the barely-legible note from Daisy.

Now, there is a dizzying flood of paperwork that goes along with legitimacy. There are lie detections, whispered rumors about a new chain of command. There are decisions to be made about their new place within an organization for which they’ve killed. For which they’ve died. There is a form to complete requesting joint accommodations, and as he signs his name next to Jemma’s it all seems surreal. Over a decade of friendship and a love that tore his heart out, and all he has to do is sign his name to make it bureaucratically acceptable.

He had bought a bottle of champagne for the occasion. The Seychelles had been indefinitely postponed and at the rate work was going, it would be awhile before they had time to celebrate anything more momentous than being approved for a coveted couple’s room.

But now, with concerning news reports coming in about their best friend who hadn’t even said goodbye, he thinks to the champagne chilling in the refrigerator and wonders if it will ever be appropriate. If Jemma’s drunken giggle will ever be unweighted again.

He doesn’t have answers for Jemma and he knows that, really, she doesn’t expect any.

In the end, she finds the champagne and brings it to him. He’s right—her laugh isn’t as carefree as it had been, underage at the Academy and more drunk off their successes than the alcohol. But when she kisses him and he sloshes his drink on their new bed, when she scolds him and then pulls his shirt off anyway, he thinks this is what healing must feel like.

Daisy downs her glass of champagne and jumps into Fitz’s arms, stealing him away from Jemma for a dance. “I’m so happy for you both,” she says, and he feels the truth of her statement in the way her arms tighten around his waist. Tension he hadn’t known he’d been holding drifts out of him and he places a kiss to her hairline in gratitude. For being his friend, for throwing him an outrageous bachelor party, for coming back to them all those years ago.

They sway together for one whole song before Jemma can’t take his absence any longer and swirls back into his orbit. Daisy kisses Jemma on the cheek delightedly, leaving a bright red imprint of her lips like a brand. She whispers something scandalous in Fitz’s ear that makes him blush and Jemma pulls him towards her for a kiss borderline inappropriate for the relatives and friends scattered around. As if anyone in attendance could ever begrudge them their moments of happiness.

“So… what now?” she asks, tears of laughter streaming down her face as she drags him away from the crowd and onto the quiet balcony. He knows she’s laughing at him—his outfit askew all these hours later, sweat glistening, his curls sticking in every direction—but he’ll never mind looking ridiculous if he can just hear her laugh like this forever. It’s a beautiful night, but the chill in the air has kept most of the guests inside on the dance floor. Above him, the stars light up their little corner of the planet and he sends a grateful thought to Lincoln, for saving the world and allowing him this moment of perfection.

Jemma’s gaze follows his own, up to the stars that had loved her enough to return her to Fitz’s side. It strikes Fitz then, as he looks over at his new wife, that he can truly pinpoint this as the happiest day of his life. When she turns to smirk at him, he grins back and amends his previous thought: this is the happiest day of his life, so far.

Maybe she’s not expecting an answer, but this time he has one. He wraps his arms around her and tucks her head beneath his chin, hands running along her lace dress. “Our part of this party is over. What do you say we sneak off to the honeymoon suite?”

Leopold Fitz!” she gasps, and her smile causes his heart to stutter. He feels like no one’s ever seen a smile like this before, so he kisses her to keep it his secret.

“Yes,” she breathes against his lips. “Yes.” And in this word, she hands him the rest of his life.

Collapse - Chapter One


Cowritten and Proofread by @aoimikans

Early Saturday morning…

“You understand why I asked you to not to join me for this interview?” Naomasa asked, passing the subpoena request form to Wright.

Wright nodded, “I doubt Sato would want to see me again anytime soon. However, I do appreciate you bringing Alba with you.”

Tyto swivelled her head around, feathers puffing up pleasantly at the sound of her name.

There was a knock at the door, and Sansa poked his head in.

“Sato is here with his attorney. I left them in the break room,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Naomasa stood. He glanced at Sansa’s casual clothes, “Going to U.A. then?”

A soft purr rolled in Sansa’s throat as he nodded, “Just heading out.”

“Have fun, Tamakawaii,” Tyto whistled, batting her eyelashes at the flustered officer.

Naomasa tried not to laugh as Sansa stuttered a ‘thank you’ and ducked out. Standing, Naomasa gestured for Tyto to follow, “Let’s get started.”

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Distilled Lines - Jughead x Poet!Reader

Hope this is alright! Enjoy!

Originally posted by mieczyslwstilinski

You wander around school, attempting to retrace your steps for the day, looking for your notebook. Did you leave it in chemistry? Or english? Oh, god, you bet that you left it in history, when you were writing a piece because of a sudden burst of inspiration. Taking off in that direction immediately, you hope and pray that it’s still there. If anyone catches a glimpse of what’s in it, you’d be mortified. You quicken your pace, urgency rising in you with each step, and fling the door, of the now empty class, open. Your eyes scan the top of the desks, desperately searching for it, and after finding nothing, you panic.

Some of the things in there were personal, too personal even, for any other eyes. Did Reggie take it? He was watching you write in it in history class,  but then again, Reggie never bothered with you because you’re too ‘mousy and boring’, as he put it one day. You dart out of the classroom, heading straight for the pathetic Lost & Found room of Riverdale high, only stopping briefly to chat with a janitor to ask if they’ve seen it. The room is dismal and cramped and filled with items you’re sure are a good few years old; when things get lost in Riverdale High, they’re lost. You pace the corridor, trying to calm yourself and figure out what to do.

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