i'm gone for a week and this is waiting for me

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.

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Hogwarts Headcannons
  • Give me Dean, muggleborn that he is, imitating Steve Irwin in Care of Magical Creatures class, much to everyone's confusion except for Harry and Hermione who are. On the ground. Unable to breathe. And refusing to explain why.
  • Give me Harry, demisexual that he is, realizing that the reason he can't stop obsessing over Draco is because Draco is the one who saw - and subsequently disliked - 'Harry', and not The Boy Who Lived. Realizing that Draco was the only one to first talk to him for HIM, in that robe shop, and not his parents or fame (because even Ron and Hermione did that at first). And thus, leading to him randomly starting crying in the middle of lunch and claiming he's doomed, much to everyone's fear.
  • Give me Seamus, pyro that he is, super happy one Christmas when Hermione buys him a book on fire caution, flammable materials, and elements such as magnesium. Thus afterward, the mysterious fires that have always happened are far more safe and controlled.
  • Give me Luna, wonderful airhead that she is, being stared at as, calm as anything, she waltzes right into the Slytherin common room and starts talking to the mermaids like its absolutely normal. A first year drops a book he's staring so hard, because HOW DID SHE KNOW THE PASSWORD. Draco just sighs, gets up, goes over to her, and offers her tea.
  • Give me Draco. Who looks on as Neville offers Harry rhubarb pie that he made himself, as Harry stares forlornly at his Treacle Tart, and makes and annoyed sound. "Dammit Longbottom he hates bittersweets." The Slytherins stare and Pansy just mutters "How do you even know these things. Merlin, help him realize."
  • Give me Parvati, who is being constantly mistaken for her sister by Ron, who panics and screams "IM A LESBIAN" when it gets to be too much.
  • Give me Ron, who stares wide-eyes from a distance whenever he sees Padma from that moment on for a full week, until Padma flips out too and hexes him. Parvati awkwardly wonders why Ron starts getting scared whenever she tries to approach from then on, since she knows Ron doesn't have problems due to that sort of thing from how he handles Harry.
  • Give me the thirty or so of the school's Muggle-raised, who made the mistake of showing their folks howlers, and react accordingly whenever one of the families sends one that is just a recording of Rick Astley, or High School Musical, or spoilers for Doctor Who. And the Wizard-raised just... staring... in fear... watching their savior and multiple other students as they run around screaming and crying in an absolute panic for some reason even though it was a different student that got the weird howler.
  • Give me Harry, whose hair surprises people by being dark red like his mother's when in direct sunlight. And usually at the Weasley den they're inside, but one day Harry joins them outside for a picnic, and Molly is so confused about where Harry went to then has do do a mental tally of her children.
  • Give me George, who in the midst of the final battle, hit Lucius with an Anaticula curse, so that every spell he tries makes a duck instead. And the Death Eaters are just so confused. "Lucius... is that a duck?"
  • Give me the Gryffindor common room. The new first years suggest Monopoly for game night. The entire room goes dead silent. One first year tries to ask what they did wrong. "Never mention that game again," is the only response they get. "But why-" "NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR." Their brave upperclassman Neville yells, trembling. Hermione starts crying. Harry goes into a panic attack. Ron whispers, "There are many reasons we don't talk about sixth year. If The Incident had been the only thing that happened, we would only not talk about The Incident. Many things happened that year. Thus, we do not speak of that year, or of that game."
  • Give me McGonagall, who struggles to control the cat population, because while students are told to have their cats fixed you know not all 100 students that brought cats did so. Her curling up around a litter that lost their mother to illness. Training them to stalk the corridors. Albus had his ways of getting information, and hers is the spy network of cats.
  • Give me muggleborns singing everything from Phantom of the Opera to Katy Perry in the corridors. Singing We Will Rock You to a pureblood who disses them for it. The purebloods thinking the weird songs and their tunes are some kind of Rite of Passage and fleeing whenever a muggleborn student starts singing. Altering song lyrics. "I throw my ferret in the air some-times, singin EEEEEEEYO, this is DRAAAAAACO!"
  • Give me muggleborns that are really confused about the whole quill instead of pens things, throwing transfigured pokeballs in Care of Magical Creatures, the band students bringing kazoos and harmonicas and the wizrd-raised students that are just so confused as to how those things even work, because it must be some sort of air magic, right??
  • Give me muggleborns making entire conversations out of pop culture references specifically to confuse some Slytherin who just called one girl a Mudblood. "These are not the droids you were looking for." "I'm right on top of that now Rose, I promise." -jazz hands-
  • Give me muggleborns with Patronus that are things like Pikachu, velociraptors, the quiet Canadian transfer student with a moose patronus the size of a SMALL HOUSE, the one whose is a angeled-out Castiel, the one whose patronus is the democrat donkey and another the republican elephant and the two, previously best friends, become mortal enemies rivaling the fame of Harry and Draco.
  • Give me muggleborns hugging each other before break, promising to 'call' each other, trading weird codes, how they can't wait to go for 'sushi' or planning that trip together to 'disneyland' where they can go flying?? But no one's allowed magic?? Or flying?? And the wizard-raised think that somehow, shockingly,<i> these children totally new to our world have developed a way to cheat the system?? Muggleborns are badasses!!</i>
  • Give me muggleborns who are fully aware that the anti-tech wards were made when, like, radios barely even existed, much less cellphone towers and microprocessors, so while they can't turn them on inside the stone school walls there's this group that Harry joins constantly that just sit there in silence staring at these tiny things and sometimes randomly laughing hysterically, and every now and then standing and just running all the way across to the other side of the lake all at the same time with no signal whatsoever. The purebloods are <i>terrified</i> of this frequent happening.
  • Give me Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Justin from the D.A, muggleborns they are, doing a movie night every week to help the D.A. relax and bond. They re-start this after the battles, during eighth year, with several other people such as the returned Slytherins joining in. The entire year they play things like Tangled, The Breakfast Club, Brave, Lion King. But then the last four weeks, they announce they don't want to mislead everyone that everything is all fun and rainbows. The last four movies are My Sister's Keeper, The Shining, Marley and Me, and for the last week, a marathon of the entire Jurassic Park series.
  • Give me Hufflepuffs, who secretly are very relieved to be the 'normal' House. Jocks over there, know-it-alls over there, goth wannabees over there, now lets go camp out by the kitchens we're gonna need it to survive the next seven years like this.
  • Give me Ravenclaws who are so done with the riddles when they stumble back at midnight after having fallen asleep in the Library. "What's the truth?" "THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN."
  • Give me the Trio, who use the Marauder's Map to find the most absolutely ridiculous routes to class, knowing every single one of the shortcuts. It's not odd for them to simply appear out of the ceiling. One day the new first years try to follow them, to learn the school better, but it doesn't go so well because then they try to go through a disappearing wall the Trio just did they instead run headfirst into it, and the next time they do behind a tapestry, down a waterside, around some sort of tower, causally past an entire doorless room full of bats, and somehow come out on the complete other side of the castle.
  • Give me Draco whose just completely had it with Harry's staring and confronts him, like they always do, and Harry just blurts out that he likes Draco's new haircut and can he touch his hair, and Draco so shocked he lets him. "Potter stop treating me like a cat I'm evil remember? Bloody hell have you gone daft?!" "But... it's soft..." "I hate you." But he just can't find any anger over this, so there's like no venom whatsoever in it and Harry can't stop giggling.
  • Give me Ginny, who can't stop giggling as Luna confuses the fuck out of an entire crowd with her way of speaking, and who during seventh year could 100% get away with insulting the Death Eaters because of the way she said things. Who after Luna used said tactic to get her out of a Crucio punishment just clung to Luna, shaking, and realizing that she loves Luna so much for this very reason. That there will never be another person like Luna in her life, ever.
  • Give me Harry, who was not really well educated while living at the Dursleys, who couldn't read very well but was wonderful at sneaking around, little tricks like hiding things, and loved music. He taught himself magic tricks, and MERLIN ALMIGHTY THIS 11 YEAR OLD KID HAS MASTERED VANISHING SPELLS, WHAT, HOW, and Percy, uptight prefect he is, just looses it.
  • Give me Ron walking in on Harry talking to some random snake in their dorm room, laughing like the snake said a particularly good joke, tipping his head and smiling as he responds, the python slowly curling up his arm to rest over his shoulder. Ron freezes, stares, and then slowly backs away, closes the door and stands there staring at it for a full half hour in absolute horror.
  • Give me the rest of the D.A. walking into the Room of Requirement and hearing screaming, Dean shrieking that he's going to murder someone, Hermione crying, Justin cursing like a sailor yelling for everyone to stop, and the rest panic and run around the corner and there the four Muggle-raised students are. With some sort of odd device in their hands. Playing Mario Kart.

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'd like to make a request, but I'm not sure how you'd write it. Could you do the RFA+ Saeran reacting to if they were getting hot and heavy with MC and another member walked in on them? Thank you so much!

i added V because why not and thank you for the request !1!1

mucho love ೃ༄*

sorry some are longer than others i suck

nsfw >.<

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*

Yoosung

♥ He begged you to go to a LOLOL convention for weeks and finally you gave in

♥ After hours of walking around you grew bored and horny

♥ Last night he left you on edge as you were about to climax when an important RFA conference call came up

♥ You’ve been edgy ever since

♥ “Please…“ you begged into his ear. For the past thirty minutes you wanted to run off somewhere

♥ Finally he listened

♥ “Couldn’t wait till we got home?”

♥ "No.“              

♥ He’d try so hard to take control of the kisses it’d turn you on more, but this poor baby couldn’t keep up

♥Messy neck kisses

♥His wandering hands finally get into your pants and past your panties

♥Trying to moan his name but can’t even speak making him almost self destruct

♥"I’m so close.”

♥ Just as you were tipping over the edge, the door swings open revealing a red head

♥"There you guys are- AAAH MY BEAUTIFUL EYES” Seven plays LOLOL too. Seven wanted to meet up with you guys when he found out you both were going.

♥Seven runs away red as his hair leaving Yoosung more embarrassed than you

♥Still not satisfied till you get home where he makes up it up to you four times

Zen

♥ Zen wanted practice for his romantic lines and wanted it with you so he could make the story come to life, you of course agree

♥ “If you want me then why are you with him?” He says his line leaning closer and closer

♥ Kissing soon leads into make out session in his dressing room

♥ He sits back on the couch and pulls you on top him

♥ Feeling the beast underneath you makes you a mess

♥ Zen grips your waist and helps you grind down on him causing little moans to emanate from you

♥ “I can’t take this…” beast unleashed He groans before flipping you underneath him and grinds hard and fast, hard for you to keep up with

♥ “Ah Hyun~” fuck he gone

♥ This would’ve been a good time to remember Jaehee was stopping by for Zen to sign her new CD

♥ “Hello Zen?” Jaehee’s eyes widen in horror, “SORRY Y/N, Zen!” Before running away flustered

♥ Later, she’d scold you both for being reckless of his image.

Jaehee

♥Knowing Jaehee better than anyone, you know her schedule is so hectic because someone *cough* mista trustfundkid *cough*  who gives her useless projects all the time so you decided to bring her lunch knowing she’d forget to eat

♥ She’d be very surprised and happy and try to explain her current project leaving you confused as ever

♥ She’d try so hard to make you understand

♥  You’re leaning over the papers and get distracted on her lips rather than the cat project she was rattling off about

♥ Swoop, you kiss, taking Jaehee off guard

♥ Kisses so good she forgets where she is

♥ You unbutton her blouse and leave hickeys across her chest

♥ Small Jaehee moans

♥Fogged up glasses

♥ “Jaehee do you have those cat reports I was, Oh,” Jumin stops, “I’ll come back later…”

♥ Jaehee is s u p e r embarrassed

♥ “I’m so unprofessional.”

♥ You apologize with a bubble bath later

Jumin

♥ Jumin would randomly want to throw dinner parties for friends and colleagues

♥ Tonight was one of those nights

♥ You were trying on dresses for it when you put on a beautiful slim fitting, maroon dress that made you look hotter than hell.

♥ “No.” You hear Jumin and see him shaking his head is disapproval

♥ “What’s wrong?”

♥ “Only I’m allowed to see you in stuff like that.” He stated before walking away thinking that was the end of it

♥ It wasn’t

♥ Who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t wear? After he had ignored you for the past week, being a little tease seemed fun

♥ When guests started arriving you stepped out of your room and began greeting people

♥ You could feel his glare from across the room

♥ “Y/N, you look stunning.” Zen complimented.

♥ “Thank–” Jumin comes out of nowhere bumping into you, spilling wine on you.

♥ “Whoops, silly me,” Jumin tightly smiled before whisking you away from confused Zen, “Let’s get you changed.”  

♥ When your alone Jumin attacks  daddy jumin mode

♥ “That.” Kiss “Dress.” Kiss “Was.” Kiss “Expensive.”

♥ “I’ll buy you thousands more.”

♥ Your wine-stained, dress was soon pooled around your waist

♥ Jumin threw your panties across the room

♥ No time for foreplay he is inside you

♥ He starts ruthlessly pounding away

♥ “Hey Y/N I want to ask- AHHH NEVERMIND!” Zen screams and slams the door in record time.

♥ “Jumin, are you smiling?”

Seven/Luciel/Saeyoung

♥ You knew Seven was busy on an important case and wanted to do something special

♥ Trying to think of food you could make was hard

♥ You can’t exactly cook well

♥Deciding on pancakes seemed easy enough

♥ They weren’t

♥ Seven stepped out of his office looking for some Dr.Pepper and saw the kitchen covered in Bisquick and broken eggs

♥ “What happened?“ He’d make fun of you, but he wasn’t that much better at cooking either

♥ "I wanted to make you food, you’re so busy.” You sigh and we’re genuinely disappointed

♥ Seeing this Agent 707 Defender of Justice immediately goes with plan cheer up your girlfriend

♥ "Y/N” He grabs your chin making you look up at him, “All I want eat is you.”

♥ Right before kissing you he’d throw flour in your face

♥ “Really Seven?”

♥ He quickly kiss you to prevent the inevitable war

♥ One swift motion, you were on the messy counter and Seven was in between your legs

♥ Feeling his hardness against you made you even more turned on

♥ “S-Saeyoung.” Hearing his real name come from you… he’d die

♥ Your pants disappeared and he began leaving kisses in between your thighs

♥ He kiss everywhere except where need him

♥ “Don’t tease me~~” You’d pout, making him give in

♥ “I got groceri- Oh dear lord in the kitchen!” Saeran screamed before abandoning the groceries still screaming “The kitchen!” over and over.

V

♥V had an opening for his first photo gallery and was nervous as to if it would succeed

♥You knew it would but it seemed like he needed a confidence boost

♥You knew just the way to do it

♥You took him to the private office in the gallery and got busy

♥He was reluctant at first

♥"Y/N Are you sure? Anyone could walk in…“

♥"I locked the door.” At least you thought you did.

♥Finally he pulled you onto the desk and boy he worked fast

♥Too many kisses to keep up

♥That led into a make up session that got heated very quickly

♥Where’d his pants go ? Where’d your bra go?

♥He was already rock hard and you slide in front him, wanting to please him

♥Right as he groaned when you put him in your mouth the door swings open

♥You hit your head on the desk

♥Girlish scream and retreating footsteps equal Yoosung

♥"My office doesn’t have lock.“ Sudden realization.

♥At least the gallery went well1!1!

Saeran

♥ After months of getting help and gaining trust of the RFA members Saeran was officially invited into the RFA

♥ He helped you so much and the day of the party was finally here

♥When you entered the banquet hall Saeran immediately latch himself on you

♥"Can we leave?“ Ten minutes in.

♥"Please? I’ll make you feel good when we get home.”

♥He was horny and anti social

♥After more of his complaints you strike a bargain

♥"How about we go upstairs for little then come back down.“

♥Didn’t need to tell him twice

♥Once you reach an empty room he is all over you

♥Aggressive kisses, not that you mind

♥He began kissing down your neck until he reached your sweet spot making you moan

♥”Be quiet, don’t want anyone to hear.” he said before picking you up and throwing you onto the bed.

♥Saeran pinned you under him and grinded down leaving you a mess

♥Both your clothes came off at one point

♥Mid make out the door swings open

♥ “Well, this is not the correct room.” Jumin swings right back around and leaves.

♥ “I thought you locked the door!”

♥ “I thought you did!”

♥ Saeran got up locked the door, and continued where you left off.

"I'm gonna kill him" -- Pt 1

Imagine – You are forced into an arranged marriage

“We need this Y/N. Our family needs it”. My mother spoke, standing in front of me at her desk with my father. They wanted me to marry this wealthy Shadowhunter that came from a well known family tree.
“And what happens to what I want?”. I said, not lifting my head to look at them.
“Oh don’t be so selfish! We have given you wonderful opportunities and have gotten you so far in this institute, you owe this to us”. My mother snapped. My father blinked nervously until he spoke, “Anyway it’s done. He’s coming to the institute tomorrow where you will be married immediately. Everything will be set up, you just have to show up, do you think you could do that?”, he was so patronising.
I glared at them but there was nothing I could do. I had to do this for my family, “Just tell me the time and I’ll be there”.

I walked out of their office to be greeted by Izzy and Clary walking down the corridor, “Hey, what was that emergency meeting all about?”, Izzy asked whilst both of them linked each of my arms. I was training with her when I got ushered to my parents.
“Oh just stupid family drama, wanna go into town for drinks?”, I asked the both of them needing one last night out with my girls before my freedom would be taken away.
“Of course, give us half an hour and we’ll be ready!”. They both ran off to get all dolled up whilst I just went back to my room.

I sat on my bed and just went over what my parents had said to me, ‘Don’t be so selfish’. I’ve been everything but selfish. I have always put everyone before myself. A knock snapped me out of my thoughts. I got up to answer it, “Izzy I thought you said half an-”. I opened the door to Alec. “Sorry I thought you might have been Izzy and Clary”. I held the door open and motioned for him to come in.
“So what can I help you with?”. Me and Alec had been close for a while, we had a flirty relationship, it was playful, we knew we both liked each other.
“Erm…this sounds stupid but I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight…for dinner…just me and you?”. I was so happy, the big grin on my face supported this.
“Alec I would-“, then I remembered. “but I can’t”, I didn’t want to tell anyone of the marriage yet. “I’m going out with Clary and Izzy tonight around town”. I saw the disappointment on his face which broke me.
“But you can come too, you can bring Jace and Simon as well if you want”. His famous smirk was now visible, obviously pleased with the invitation.
“Sounds great, I’ll go get the others”. He left, grazing my arm with his hand as he walked past. I walked over to my wardrobe looking at the options for me to wear. I wasn’t in a mood to make an effort so black jeans and a T it was.

I lay down and waited for someone to come and get me. The next thing I knew I opened my eyes to Jace leaning over me at my bedside.
“Finally! I’ve been shouting you for like 10 minutes!”. I sat up and let my eyes adjust.
“I’m sorry I must have dozed off”.
Jace looked at me worriedly, “What is wrong with you lately?”.
“I’m just exhausted, and stressed with all the mission reports I’m so behind on. The clave is on my back a lot these past few weeks”.
“Well we don’t have to go out tonight we can always-“.
I cut him off, “NO no….I need this”. He nodded with a look of concern and put an arm around me as we walked to go and meet the others.

We arrived at the club. I walked in with Clary and Izzy by my side whilst the other guys followed us in as we had more experience with mundane clubs.

Three hours, 7 shots, 4 vodka & cokes and a bottle of Malibu later….lets just say I was a little more than tipsy. We were all sat in a booth on the far side of the club right next to the dance floor. Jace and Clary were in the middle of a make out session whilst Simon was watching star wars on his phone as Izzy had passed out with her legs across Simon and her head on my lap. Me and Alec were talking…well, he was talking, I was slurring, although I could feel the room gradually starting to spin slower. Then all of a sudden Alec kissed me. It was long, passionate and so overdue. The second we pulled apart my lips did something before my brain could think about it.
“I’m getting married tomorrow”. My eyes were still closed from the kiss and they stayed closed for a few more seconds as I was scared to see what his reaction would be. All of a sudden I felt completely sober. I opened my eyes and regretted it immediately. He looked heartbroken, confused, vulnerable and angry. All those emotions were showing on one face and I was the reason why. Before I could say anything else he was gone, running out of the club faster than I’ve ever seen someone move.
“ALEC-“, I called out but the music was too loud and he was too far away, he wouldn’t have even come back even if he did hear me. Jace must have heard me though as he broke apart from Clary and chased after Alec. I looked down at my lap, tears fell from my face and onto Izzy but she was dead to the world to notice. When I looked up I saw Clary and Simon look at me with an expression that said ‘you have some explaining to do’.

I woke up in Clary’s room. She didn’t want to be on my own because of the state I was in last night, drunk and hysterical. After Simon took Izzy back to his I cried to Clary trying to get everything out whilst I still could. She was so supportive and was furious with what I was forced into but she understood that I felt like I had to do it, not for me but for my family. Jace had text Clary late last night to tell her he was back at the institute with Alec. They had just walked around the streets he said in the text and just talked. Alec had told Jace about the marriage, Clary explained it to Jace over the phone in which he told Alec but Jace was still pissed with me and Alec was still harbouring the same feelings from last night.
“They’ll both understand soon enough”. Clary must have noticed me staring into space and she must have knew that I was worrying about it all. I nodded.
“What time is it?”.
She checked her phone, “9:30 AM”.
I jumped up out of the bed and raced to the door, “I was meant to be in the chapel half an hour ago!”.

I ran into the chapel to find my mother pacing and my father talking to the silent brother who would be initiating the wedding.
“I’m sorry, I was out late and I lost track of time this morning”.
My mother walked towards me, “Enough with your excuses!”. I felt the tears build up behind my eyes threatening to run down my cheeks but I fought them back. She dragged me to the front of the room where I was met by my father and the silent brother. As I stood not listening to a word they were saying the door swung open. I clenched my jaw in anticipation for my future partner to walk in but to my relief it was Clary, Simon and Izzy. I hadn’t asked them to come and I didn’t want them to but right now I knew I really needed them. A tear escaped as I smiled at them. They sat at the very back not wanting to disturb any family business. Since what felt like forever I finally felt relaxed knowing that whatever happened today I had people who truly loved me just a couple of footsteps away. Then the door opened again and suddenly my anxiety went from 0 to 100 real fast. In he walked, the person I presumed I was getting married off to. The closer he came the more I realised he wasn’t the worst looking, I mean he was kinda cute; dark hair, tall, skinny yet muscle-y…I was literally describing Alec. Did this mean I had a type? No one could compare to how I felt about Alec. He was the one I truly wanted to be with, but my feelings didn’t matter.

The vows had been said, the runes had been drawn and the rings had been given. The wedding was over. Everyone dispersed until there was just me at the front of the room. Still stood in the place I had been stood throughout. My freedom had been taken…my future had been written. As I watched my family leave I let my guard down and all tears rushed out. Clary, Simon and Izzy raced to me. I didn’t know what to do anymore or what would happen to me now. For the first time in my life I felt lost and had no idea what I was going to do.

After the wedding I had gone straight to my room. The others wanted me to hang out with them so I could take my mind off of things for a few hours but I just wanted to be alone. I jumped straight in the shower and just stood there for what felt like hours under the hot water. I eventually got out and started to get changed when I heard noises coming from outside the bathroom door. I walked out, expecting to see Izzy gathering clothes so I could come and escape to Simon’s place with them but it wasn’t. It was my hubby…William I think his name was. I payed no attention throughout the ceremony so I avoided saying his name during the vows.
“What are you doing?”. I asked as he was putting everything from my room into boxes.
He looked back at me with what I can only describe as disgust on his face. “You are to be moved into my room on the East wing, if we want to make this believable”. The minute he turned back around anger rushed through me. How dare he come in here. How dare he take my things and look at me like that. I walked over to him and started unpacking all of my stuff.
“I’m not moving anywhere, my things are staying in this room and so am I”. I didn’t look at him. It felt good, it felt like I was getting control back over my life. This feeling stopped when he spun me around and slapped me across the face. His force was so strong that it knocked me to the ground. He grabbed the remaining boxes and left the room. I just lay there. Shocked at what had just happened.

I eventually composed myself and headed towards William’s wing, as I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I stayed in my room, when I bumped into Clary. She gasped and touched the side of my face, “Oh my god what did you do?”. I know she didn’t mean to say it the way I took it and she had no idea what had happened but all I heard coming from her voice was her saying it was my fault. Maybe it was my fault.
“Oh I was just stupid and hit my head on my bedside table from my nap before”. I didn’t want people to know and start gossiping. The wedding had already made me the topic of conversation on every mission so this would just make things worse. She just laughed, “What are you like!”. Then she left. I was just stood in an empty corridor.

•5 DAYS PASSED•

I gently pulled on an oversized jumper, for the purpose of no one seeing my bruises, and my sweatpants. I hadn’t spoken to anyone for days. I hadn’t even left the room in days because I couldn’t bare to see people so they could congratulate me on my wonderful new marriage, but I knew I had to train.
As I got to the training room I saw that half of the room was already occupied by Jace. Just him and a punch bag. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night at the bar, as well as Alec.
He saw me walk in, rolled his eyes and carried on punching. I grabbed my throwing knives and my seraph blade and went over to the dummies to practise my fighting skills.
After an hour Jace came over and threw a duel stick towards my feet, “Lets go”. The way he said it was so cold. I picked up the stick and walked to the centre of the room where he was stood and without being ready he struck the back of my legs and I fell to the ground. I gasped loudly and Jace looked at me like I was being dramatic but the pain was more than it usually was.
“How could you do it? How could you hurt him like that?”.
I slowly got back to my feet and steadied myself, “I didn’t want any of this to happen! I had to do this, my parents-“. He cut me off.
“NO”, he yelled. “There was no excuse, everyone has a choice and you chose to break my brothers heart. That night you told him at the club I could feel his heartbreak, there’s just no excuse for that”.
“HEY”, this time I yelled which threw him off guard. “I love Alec…so much”, tears started to build up and a lump was lodged in my throat. “I wanted to be with him and the night he asked me out was one of the happiest moments of my life. But no one understands. No one understands the pressure I was under”. I couldn’t hold back anymore and the tears fell. Jace was stood looking down at the floor, silent. I began to walk away when he gabbed my wrist. I screamed and fell down because of the pain. Jace stood back in shock not knowing what he had done.
He knelt down beside me, “What is with you today? And why are you dressed like winter for training”. I caressed my wrist, he pulled my sleeve up and saw all the bruises. He pulled up my other sleeve where more were hidden.
“Where the hell did you get these from?!”. I quickly got out of his grip and pulled down my sleeves and stood up.
I turned my back to him, “T-they’re from m-my missions”. I stuttered, not knowing what excuse seemed best.
“No they’re not because I’m always on your missions and we haven’t had one since last week, these are new bruises”.
A new set of tears came to the surface and when I turned to face him and he noticed.
“Is he hurting you?”.
At first I didn’t say anything, I just looked at the floor refusing to make eye contact with him. But the second I looked into his eyes I started hysterically crying and that’s when he knew.
He immediately came to my side and gently pulled my into a hug. It felt good to get it off my chest. After what felt like an hour he loosened he grip. “I’m gonna kill him”. He was began to walk off but I ran in front of him pleading not to.
“Please don’t! Please Jace”.
“Give me one good reason not to”.
“Because if he knows I’ve told people then I’m dead Jace. He lashes out when the tiniest things happen, so god only knows what he’s going to do if you beat him!”.
He nodded, hands still in tight fists but he understood.

Originally posted by alec-baene

bellaandtheinfinitesadness  asked:

Like idk if you do request or ideas or whatever, but an au where 2017 dan is teaching the reader (or 2009 phil), how to fuck 2009 dan. Would actually be awesome.

Sorry for the long ass wait. If you have trouble reading om mobile, open in your phone browser y’all.

Dan Howell has always had a problem with finishing things. There’s a file on his computer with an endless list of unfinished video ideas, a half-completed photo board he started about a year ago pushed under his bed, and about five songs on piano that he’s only taught himself a quarter of the way through. He’s never been great at finishing things he’s started, so it’s no surprise that he’s the same when it comes to sex.

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Coming Out

 Eddie had known there was something that was different about him ever since the day that Beverly had sunbathed in front of them, clad in her underwear. And what popped into his mind, as he stared was ‘I wonder what we’re having for dinner tonight?’ As he looked around at his friends, it occurred to him that they we’rent thinking the same thing. No, their batting eyes, sharp intakes of breath, and parted mouths told otherwise. So Eddie tried to keep staring, just to make sure he hadn’t missed something. But Beverly started to turn her head and his time was up. He was immediately flustered and snapped his head back around like he was burned. 

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Marry Me

Originally posted by gleefinn

Summary: Witch’s spells aren’t always a bad thing

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: implied smut, maybe language because I can’t help it, otherwise straight fluff

A/N: this is for the lovely @jpadjackles double birthday challenge! I loved all the songs you chose for us, but this one will forever be one of my favorites! Hope you like what I did with it, and thank you for hosting!

A/N/N: Huge enormous thank you to my twin @deanssweetheart23 for listening to me whine, reading everything over and basically being the best damn support system a writer could ask for. Love ya, twin.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Derek, master of tight black jeans and tight dark henley's, shows up to a pack meeting wear a soft blush pink sweater and light faded blue jeans and he just looks so soft Stiles wants to touch.

Stiles had learned a lot of things about Derek Hale, Beacon Hills’ very own grumpy werewolf with a dry wit and a heart of gold, over the years of knowing him.

For one, Derek Hale was a nerd behind the walls he had put up to protect himself – his feelings, his heart – after everything he had been through. He owned so many books, that they couldn’t even fit onto the many, many shelves he had put in the loft after he returned to the town the year before.

He had a movie collection that easily beat Stiles’ own, and he could talk for hours and hours about pretty much any historical event. Stiles knew from personal experience, had listened to him go on and on for a seemingly endless time, and he hadn’t been bored for a single second of it.

For another, Derek had incredible, although slightly boring, taste in music. Incredible because the music he did listen to was good and calming. Boring because there wasn’t a lot of variety, the same songs playing on repeat.

Stiles had only complained about it once (okay, maybe three times) but then he’d seen the relaxed expression on Derek’s face while the music filled the loft and he’d promptly stopped.

For a third, Derek had pictures of his family stored away somewhere. None of them were put up when the loft got redecorated, and no one in the pack had asked. Not even Cora.

For a fourth, Derek was a damn good cook and an even better baker. Stiles could eat his own weight in his cooking, probably more than.

For a fifth, Derek was as much of a big brother as he was a little brother. He could tease and annoy in his own way as much as he could protect and glare away anyone coming anywhere near the people he cared about.

For a sixth, Derek looked amazing in dark colors, and his typical tight black jeans and dark henley combo constantly made Stiles drool. Dark colors, Stiles had learned over the years, were Derek’s color. Stiles hadn’t seen him in any actual colors since that one blue shirt that was ruined in a fight all those years ago.

Stiles hadn’t even realized how much he had missed seeing Derek wearing colors. Not until Derek walked in through the door wearing a soft blush pink sweater that fit him perfectly and faded blue jeans that hugged his thighs in all the right places.

So really, he couldn’t be blamed for stopping mid sentence to turn and gape and stare.

Keep reading

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 14

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] [Pt 8] [Pt 9] [Pt 10] [Pt 11] [Pt 12] [Pt 13]

Pairing: Namjoon/Rap Monster x Reader
Rating: M
Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 4,676

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: :D Look, I did a thing! Thank you all for waiting patiently~ I’m literally posting this right before I leave for work, I was rushing to proof read it lol. Hopefully I didn’t miss too many mistakes :p


Black fabric mask secured over the lower half of his face, Jungkook waits tensely in a coffee shop half a block from his family’s penthouse. Its 2 minutes before noon, and his leg bounces nervously under the table, his coffee already gone cold.

Managing to get a whole of 3 hours of sleep the night prior, still too bothered with the thought of you potentially being in trouble to be able to get some shut eye, Jungkook had slipped out of the house early that morning, requesting his regular chauffeur to take him to campus a tad sooner than usual. The driver had complied, toting him half way across the city to the usual spot where Jungkook was dropped off and picked up. Jungkook then left as usual, walking towards his building, but this time he had no plan on going to class. As soon as the Jeon heir was far enough from the car which had dropped him off, he ducked into a building and watched through the old, clouded windows for the car to leave. It took a few seconds, his driver likely confused as to why Jungkook was going into that building when he usually didn’t, but luckily a car wanting to get by honked in slight anger, and the chauffer immediately placed the car in drive and coasted away as if nothing had happened.

Sighing thankfully to the impatient college driver who had honked, Jungkook waits in the building for a few long minutes. He wants to be perfectly sure that his car won’t circle back around to look for him, and when 5 minutes pass and there’s no sign of his chauffeur, Jungkook determines that he’s safe.

Nodding to himself, determination for what he now has to do settling in his gut, Jungkook shrugs his book bag off his shoulder, unzipping the main pouch. Today his normal folders and notebooks are nowhere to be found, replaced by a spare coat, hat, and a mask. Jungkook knows that his father has men stationed all over the city—maybe not on the lookout for him, since as far as they know nothing out of the ordinary is going on—but Jungkook won’t risk anything. It seems to him that his father is currently scheming with Taehyung against Namjoon, judging by the small amount of their conversation he had overheard last night, but Jungkook needs Namjoon by his side. He needs Namjoon’s friendship because right now Namjoon holds all the information Jungkook wants to know about you. And…more so…Namjoon truly isn’t too bad of a guy, in Jungkook’s eyes—better than his father, at least—and Jungkook doesn’t feel well knowing that his family is possibly working to…hurt Namjoon in some way.

So, changing his jacket, hiding his face behind a plain back mask, and tucking his hair beneath a dark blue hat, Jungkook had left the building he’d taken refuge in, walking back into the city. He didn’t want to risk a taxi or a bus, so he had braved the chilling winds and had walked the crowded streets of Seoul. After nearly 40 minutes he finally arrived at the café Namjoon had requested he wait at—the brief text containing the location arriving at just shy of 5am that morning.

And now here he is, Jeon Jungkook, eyes boring into the watch on his wrist, the second hand ticking past the 12 mark, officially meaning that it was noon. His leg continued to bounce with nervous energy, hand reaching into his pocket to check his cellphone, and as soon as the device is in his hand, it buzzes, a new text message lighting up the screen.

Unknown:

I’m stopped behind a bus at the light outside the coffee shop. Come now.

Reading the words with unsteady concentration, Jungkook quickly stands, bumping into the table as he reaches for his backpack and heads outside. Not bothering to correctly zip up his coat, the cold air immediately soaking into his skin, Jungkook glances both ways down the congested street, breaking into a jog when he spots the bus a little ways up the sidewalk, a black car with tinted windows momentarily stalled behind it.

As he approaches the car, his feet suddenly falter as he realizes that he’s currently putting himself in danger. He has no clue what’s going on right now—who he can trust and who might be hiding in the city ready to hurt him. As a Jeon he had been targeted before. Once or twice, but nothing serious. A kidnapping attempt here or there by people desperate to use him as ransom in return for monetary repayment from his father, but all attempts had been thwarted by family men—faint screams ringing in Jungkook’s ears, but he hadn’t put all the pieces together until he’d gotten a bit older.

Yet, despite the danger, Jungkook regains his stride, especially when the light in front of the bus turns green, the tinted car honking urgently. He can’t stall for much longer, and Jungkook rushes forward, pulling open the passenger door, grateful to see Namjoon occupying the driver seat.

“Christ kid, hurry it up,” Namjoon sighs as he steps on the gas, following behind the bus. Jungkook rolls his eyes, dropping his bag on the floor between his feet.

“You could have actually stopped somewhere to wait.”

“I could have, but everything feels risky nowadays,” Namjoon mumbles, eyes casting to the side. Jungkook can immediately tell how tired the older male is, dark bags hanging under his eyes, unkempt facial hair prickling his chin and upper lip.

“Hyung…,” Jungkook says, voice sympathetic yet serious. His eyes harden, heart steeling as he shifts to face Namjoon. “What’s going on? Please, you need to tell me…”

“The other day–,” Namjoon starts after a moment of hesitation, knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. “Y/N came over. I was trying to make things right after everything that had been happening. It went well, really well…,” he says with fondness, his defenses momentarily dropping, but as he continues recounting what had occurred Jungkook sees his body curl in on itself, anger staining his face.

“I got a call that morning from a client. Left Y/N to sleep because I figured I’d be right back…I asked Yoongi to check on her. He…,” Namjoon takes a moment to calm himself, throat tight, adam’s apple bobbing. “He got there and saw Y/N in Jimin’s car. Jimin somehow got into my apartment and took her. Yoongi gave chase, but…”

Stopped at another red light, Namjoon slams his fist on the dashboard, and Jungkook winces, heart sinking into his stomach.

“She’s gone?” the younger whispers, hands laying stiffly in his lap. Namjoon bites his lip, trying his best not to give into all the dark thoughts lurking in his mind.

“She is—but I’ve got people looking for her. We’re going to get her back, Kookie–,” reaching over, Namjoon places his hand on Jungkook’s knee and the younger startles, immediately batting Namjoon’s hand away, his eyes filled with rage. However, when Jungkook sees the hurt and pain on Namjoon’s face, that spark of anger dies, and he hunches over, pressing his palms to his face.

“I know this isn’t your fault, hyung…I’m sorry. I just—”

“You can blame me if it makes it easier,” Namjoon responds, dead eyes tracking the road. Jungkook shakes his head, taking a deep breath as he pushes any potential tears back into their sockets.

“I won’t blame you. I can tell that you’ve changed, Namjoon hyung. You care for Y/N, and I can tell this isn’t easy for you, so I’m sorry I reacted like that, I just…she’s my friend, you know?” Jungkook says quietly, loosely hugging his arms to his chest. “I don’t have many, and none else like her, considering father’s—”

“Right, your father,” Namjoon interrupts, suddenly remembering the reason he’d had to call Jungkook out in public to meet like this. Jungkook’s eyes widen as well, and the two males stare at each other, surprised.

“Right, right—my dad!” Jungkook recalls, eyes searching his lap as he tries to remember everything he had overheard the night before. “I—last night a guy named V showed up at our door. He told me to call him—”

“Taehyung,” Namjoon growls, swerving into a small parking lot and shifting the car into P. He can’t trust himself to continue driving calmly when he’s got all this shit on his mind—and Taehyung is not helping. Especially after he’d touched you…and now he’s apparently making ties with Jungkook’s father, which isn’t good…

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, biting his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyebrows furrowing. Last night he hadn’t been able to recall where he’d heard the name before, but pairing it with Namjoon’s reaction…

“Is that they guy who hurt Y/N? At the club?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs, fingers coasting through his messy hair. Jungkook scowls.

“Right…now that I think about it, it makes sense. The guy was such a goddamn flirt—even with me—

“Taehyung is very…open,” Namjoon says cautiously, and then shakes his head, getting back to the situation at hand. “What did he say to your dad?”

“I went looking around last night because one of our maids broke a glass, and on my way back to my room I overheard my father and Taehyung talking. They…said something about…,” he furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall the faint words he’d managed to pick up on. “They mentioned a girl, your name, bait, and a ball next week. They–! They said something about another man, and how my father was glad he had trusted Taehyung’s friend, Jimin…”

“Oh, fuck,” Namjoon groans, palms dragging down his face. “Fuck–! I forgot that Taehyung and Jimin are friends, those little assholes—”

“…the person who took Y/N from your apartment—you…said his name was Jimin, right?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon grits, palms pressing into his straining eyes. “Yeah, it was Jimin. And if Taehyung got Jimin to do his dirty work and kidnap Y/N, and Taehyung is suddenly your dad’s best friend, then…”

The car falls silent, and Jungkook and Namjoon’s eyes meet.

If Taehyung and Jungkook’s father are working together against Namjoon, then—

Jungkook sees the flash of distrust that momentarily passes through Namjoon’s eyes, and while Namjoon and Jungkook have never truly been friends, the younger’s heart aches.

“Hyung—Namjoon hyung I promise I’m not against you, please,” Jungkook says, leaning over to rest his hand on Namjoon’s thigh. He can feel Namjoon’s muscles stiffen beneath him, but his face gives away nothing.

Keep reading

When I am gone I hope that you’ll stay
Keep me close in memory
You can move on
With your promise of new
I’ll be right here waiting for you

Don’t forget me my love
My love
I won’t forget you my love
My love

To the end of the world
And back
Until the end of time
No one can stop me
If they tried
The darkest days
The darkest nights
I won’t stop until the
Day I die
Until the end of the world
My love
To the end of time

Eternity is so beautifully cold
I wonder if angels ever feel old
I’m lost in your eyes
I’m stranded at sea
You know you’re everything to me

Don’t forget me my love
My love
I won’t forget you my love
My love

Quietdrive - Until the End

—–

This Jean aged a little ^^;

That is a piece I started a time ago (like 3 weeks? oO) but never finished it, because I got so frustrated about it… And now I tried to fix the worst mistakes. I don´t like it now, too, but… fuck it :D To kick my low-self-confidence in the ass, I upload it here! Chacka! TAKE THIS! ~

Meddling

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

“PETER! OPEN THE HELL UP!”

Steve and Tony looked at each other and tried not to smile at the sound of a frantic Wade yelling for his boyfriend.

Ugh. Wade. Peter could do so much better. Peter is an honor student, he’s top of his class, he has a bright future full of opportunity, and he’s Tony’s son, dammit. And Tony doesn’t want his beautiful, perfect child in a relationship with a mercenary. Is that so wrong? Wouldn’t Peter rather date someone with more potential? A doctor maybe? No matter, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. As of now, Tony is just going to watch as his brilliant plan folds out.

Steve answers the door and narrowly misses getting punched in the face by Wade’s aggressive knocking.

“Oh, hi, Wade, it’s nice to see you today,” Steve feigned innocence, “Peter is in his room. Can I get you a snack or something to drink?”

“I’m good, Mr. Captain. Thanks.”, Wade grumbled as he walked past Steve and straight into Peter’s room, slamming the door behind him.

Steve and Tony froze and looked at each other in anticipation then scrambled to press an ear to Peter’s door when they heard muffled yelling.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, baby!”, Peter yelled back, sounding confused and exasperated.

“Oh, don’t ‘baby’ me! You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about! HASHTAG SINGLE?!?! THAT’S how you’re gonna break up with me?!”

“Wade, I haven’t even posted in, like, a week. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“OH! SO YOU’RE TELLING ME. YOU DIDN’T POST THIS FUCKBOY MIRROR SELFIE. AND YOU DIDN’T CAPTION IT WITH A ‘HMU’ ‘EGGPLANT EMOJI’ ‘HASH.TAG. SINGLE.’”

“NO, BABY, I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT POST, I PROMISE-“

“GO TO HELL, PETER! WE’RE THROUGH.”

Steve and Tony ran across the room and tried to look like they’ve been busy in the kitchen this whole time as Wade stormed out of Peter’s room and out of the tower. They decided to wait a few minutes before checking on Peter. So far, everything has gone according to plan and Tony is very happy about it.

After about 5 minutes, Steve gently knocked on Peter’s door,

“Hey hun, can I come in?”

Steve opened the door upon hearing Peter’s automatic lock slide open and found him curled up on the bed, furiously wiping his eyes. Steve smiled sympathetically and sat down on the edge of the bed,

“Hey, big guy. What happened?”

Peter tried not to cry as he rehashed the conversation he had with Wade while Steve pretended he wasn’t listening at the door and heard every word.

“I just don’t understand,” Peter said tearfully, “I never posted that picture. That picture isn’t even of me, that’s not even our bathroom! But Wade wouldn’t listen so now the love of my life hates me.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”, Steve chuckled and Peter couldn’t help but crack a half smile at his dad. Steve tried his best to cheer Peter up, but he couldn’t shake the guilt he was feeling. Peter wouldn’t need cheering up if it wasn’t for him. Sure, Wade is a jackass but he’s Peter’s jackass. If Wade makes Peter happy, who is he to keep them apart? He’s gotta talk to Tony about this, Steve can’t stand lying to his son.

                             ~                                                          ~                                                          ~

“Absolutely not.”

“But Tony-“

“Steve. Honey. If we tell Peter then we’re the bad guys. Peter will never trust us again! Let him be sad for now, he’ll bounce back soon enough and it’s like it never happened. It’s for his own good.”

Steve sighed thoughtfully as Tony continued tinkering with whatever the heck he was working on at the moment.

“Look, Tony, I know how much you dislike-“

“I hate him.”

“…I know you have strong feelings towards Wade, but I can’t live with myself after what we did to Peter!”

“Wait. What?”, Steve flinched when he heard Peter behind him.

Tony shut his eyes tight and cursed under his breath before dropping his tools and turning around to face his son.

“What did you do to Peter?”, Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at his parents.

“Nobody did anything to Peter. Go to your room.”, Tony snapped.

Peter turned his attention to Steve, “Pops, what did you guys do?”

“Steve, don’t do it. Be strong.”, Tony murmured.

But contrary to popular belief, Steve was not strong. At least when it came to Peter, that is. His son could give him that look with the puppy dog eyes that say “I trusted you and you betrayed me” and it’s all over. Any willpower Steve has will just vanish.

“We. Um. We sort of… shopped? For your photo?”

“Photoshop, Steve.”, Tony said as he rubbed his temples. He loves his husband and son but man, could they give him a headache.

“Yes, photoshopped. We photoshopped your face to another person’s body. Well, Tony did. And then we… hacked?”

“Yes, Steve.”

“We ‘hacked’ into your account and posted the picture for Wade to see. Well, Tony did. And we made sure the words under the picture would make Wade mad so he you guys would get in a fight… Well, Tony did.”

“Steve. We get the picture, dammit.”

Peter looked at his feet and took a second to process this. His own parents were trying to sabotage his relationship?

“Why? Why would you guys do that?”, he asked.

“We’re really sorry sweetheart”, Steve placed a hand on the side of Peter’s face, “We thought it was for the best. I think now we see that we were wrong, don’t we Tony?”

“Hm? Oh. Uh… yeah. Totally wrong. Won’t try this again anytime soon.”

“You mean that, Dad?”, Peter asked Tony.

“…Sure.”

Peter smirked. He had his Dad in a box right now and they both knew it. He might as well take advantage of this opportunity and embarrass him.

“Then would you mind calling Wade for me and explaining all of this to him? I’d like my boyfriend back.”

~request a prompt~

anonymous asked:

Would you write a jooheon neighbour AU for me? Please please please I'm just imagining this boy as a neighbour and it would be so perfect if you'd put it into some words!!! + how are you? Does everything work out good in college,? 😚

ofc!! im ok, college is tough - but im gonna make it!! we all are ^^
find wonho (here) + kihyun (here) 

  • only keeps one part of his apartment clean: his desk 
  • everything else is,,,,,,,,as you can expect,,,,,,,mismatched pairs of sneakers, t-shirts lumped together with socks, comic books and wrappings from snacks, and the occasional crumpled up paper from lyrics that he tried to write but ended up hating
  • has a dart board near his desk and will pin up bad lyrics and throw darts at it until he gets out of writers block LOL
  • (sometimes he puts up a pic of his companies ceo but shh let’s not tell anyone that) 
  • he doesn’t really use his bedroom, sleeps in his chair or manages to throw himself across his sofa in some uncomfortable position
  • like minhyuk has come over to find half of jooheon’s body sliding off the couch,,,,drool on his pillow,,,,no blanket except like three hoodies he threw over himself for warmth
  • it’s cute though he has a bunch of like action figures from marvel and dc around his desk and instead of actual books on the shelves it’s like action figures and different games
  • like,,,,he’s got 5 different versions of monopoly 
  • friday night monsta x comes over and they play settlers of catan or something LOL
  • has an old shoe-box full of the first cds he ever bought as a kid, most of them are ying yang twins, common, 50 cent,,,,
  • you know jooheon because no one else in your entire apartment building wears supreme and stussy as much as him,,,,,,,and also no one else but him gets a subscription to comics
  • so when you see the bundle outside near the mail you’re like “oh,,,,,that has to be jooheon’s.” 
  • but really, that’s all you know. he has expensive clothes and likes comics,,,,,,other than that you aren’t really sure about what kind of job he has or who he is as a person
  • and you’re not itching to find you either,,,,,,,,not until you get a knock on your door at 8 am and you’re up for one reason: you were gonna get a snack and then go back to sleep till noon
  • but you open the door, fully expecting the mailman or someone
  • but instead it’s?????? jooheon and he’s frantically looking around and you’re like uh,,,,,,,,,,,,,yes?
  • and he’s like “i have a flight in an hour and i havent packed and i forgot to buy an extra toothbrush do you have a spare???? and also toothpaste????? and like possibly a pair of socks???? also sunscreen?????”
  • and you’re looking at him like,,,,,,,well he just requested you give him a literal itinerary of things ??? things you pack in ADVANCE
  • and you’re like wait. when is your fligh-
  • and he’s like “an hour,,,,,im,,,,,,,,,,,,sweating”
  • and he isn’t lying. he’s sweating you can see his forehead glistening and you’re like ok ok give me a second to check my bathroom
  • and jooheon is in luck you have some brushes and paste still in packaging and your sunscreen is used, but only halfway and you’re like “this is what i have and socks,,,uh here you go-”
  • and you hand him the first pair, they have little cats on him, but jooheon has no time to complain and he’s holding all the stuff in his arms and you kind of feel a bit bad,,,,so you’re like “do you need help,,,,,,,,,,,,packing?”
  • and he looks at you like you’re the damn Sun and he’s like pleASe,,,,it’s 30 min to the airport so,,,,,,i need to run
  • and you end up in his apartment for the first time, navigating the mess on the floor, to help get all the basic nessecities he needs into a beat up looking duffel bag
  • and you’re like “where are you even going?” and he’s like “thailand,,,,so don’t pack any jackets.”
  • and you guys finish, but it’s not the best,,,,,,,,,,,but he’ll survive for the week he’s gone
  • and as he’s dashing out the door you’re like “lock your door!” and he throws you the keys and he’s like “please do it for me!”
  • and with that he’s down the stairs and you’re standing there with his keys and five minutes later you’re like WAIT HOW IS HE GONNA GET BACK INTO THE BUILDING WHEN HE COMES BACK OH MY GOD JOOHEON
  • and you run downstairs, but he’s gone and you’re like oh my god,,,,,,,,,,,,
  • and as the week goes on you try to figure out what the best solution is: ask the landlord for jooheons number? well he’s overseas,,,,,,,he might not want the data charges. wait for him outside the building every night until he returns? no too much work,,,,,,,
  • so you just shrug and decide he’ll figure out someway to get to you
  • and he does,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,except it involves literally throwing pebbles at your window like this is some corny 80s romance flick
  • and it happens at like 3 in the morning too and you wake up like whAT the HELL is that annoying sound but you go to your window and look out and there’s jooheon standing at the side of the building waving with his duffel bag over his shoulder
  • and you signal for him to give you a second and you’re in your damn pajamas with the worst bed head and some slippers and when you let him inside he’s like “,,,,,,,,i realized when i got on the plane that throwing my keys to you wasn’t a smart move.” and you’re like hUH YOU THINK
  • and he’s like “im sorry for bothering you so much,,,,,,,,,,sometimes i don’t have it all together you know.”
  • and you soften up, even though he woke you up in the dead of night, and you get on the elevator with him and he’s like “oh, by the way i needed to thank you so i got this.”
  • and he pulls out a souvenir from his bag and hands it to you,,,,and you smile a bit,,,,,,even blush because well here’s this (cute. very cute) boy giving you a present
  • and you’re like “oh,,,,you didn’t have to,,,,”
  • and jooheon sees your blush and also starts stuttering and he’s like “i just - i - you were very nice to me - i - w-want-ed to- uh - repay,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and the doors open and you both go to your respective doors and you’re like rIGHT, and you drop the keys in jooheon’s hands
  • and he’s like “WELL good night,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like yes,,,,,,,,,
  • but neither of you go inside and jooheon clears his throat and is like “i,,,,,,,i didn’t mean to be weird and get you the present i just,,,,,,,,,didn’t know if you’d be ok with just getting that or if i should instead just take you to dinner as a thank you,,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like oh,,,,,,,i have that choice?
  • and jooheon scratches his neck and looks away but mumbles that yeah,,,,,,,,you do
  • and you look at the souvenir and you’re like “if i say yes, do i have to give this back?”
  • and jooheon snaps back to look at you,,,,,because he didn’t think you’d actually be interested in the dinner option but his cheeks are pink now and he’s like no no you can keep it and um,,,,,,dinner,,,,,,,i,,,,,,,can pick you up tomorrow - well today - night? 
As someone who wants to go into the mental health field as a mentally ill person themselves...

Split is gonna be an amazing movie.

Hell my Psychological Adaptations teacher BADLY wants to take a small group of kids to go see it with her. We watched the trailer in class and kids who knew nothing about mental illness asked questions on how DID affected someone.

We’ve watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, read the book it’s based on and even watched Bates Motel. We’ve gone into the nitty gritty of what kind of trauma it takes to get to this level. And let me tell you the kids in this class LOVE breaking down why the human brain deals with trauma like this. Kids who all(except for the few mentally ill in the room) had an ableist point of view when it came to mental illness

(I stated I was bipolar during a discussion and immediately got looks but they all did ask for me to explain it more and they realized they were misinformed)

They’ve managed to understand that this is purely fiction IN LITERALLY THE EQUIVALENT OF 3 HOURS.

HIGH.SCHOOL.STUDENTS.UNDERSTAND.THAT.THIS.IS.FICTION.

THE GENERAL PUBLIC UNDERSTANDS THAT THIS IS NOT AN ACCURATE PORTRAYAL.

For fucks sake my final paper is even gonna be about if Anthony Perkins(Norman Bates in Psycho)is accurately portraying the body language of someone who has DID according to the DSM-5. Mind you THE MOVIE WAS MADE IN LIKE THE 60’S.

A lot of kids are doing a creative writing piece about Normal Bates seeing a psychologist and are going to be graded on if it is a normal sensible piece.

My teacher (who has a masters in Psychology a masters in English and is working on a PHD and is also mentally ill) is so excited about this movie she’s patiently waiting for the DVD so she can base a whole class around it like she did with Psycho(and is doing Lolita in three weeks I’m so mad I don’t need more English credit after this)

Anyhow.

Instead of yelling why this is ableist, take a moment to ask the person if they know any facts about DID. If not kindly explain that this is a work of fiction instead of yelling at them.

I never rant about anything on tumblr but I can’t stand all this “boycott” bullshit.

Edit: A vague call out by someone who blocked me immediately afterward is now a thing. Funny. Edit 2: I have officially gotten my first “kill yourself” anon. Thank you for your compassion.

Part One | Part Two


When did you first know?

The question is a simple one in theory, and it’s also one to which Sherlock has given quite a lot of thought in the past, most notably when he was in his depressed moods and wanted to torture himself with the more wonderful images of John that he had stored up in his Mind Palace.  It’s no longer torture to remember those times, to picture those small smiles and shared giggles that were so frequent early on in their acquaintance, but there is still a dull ache that resonates within him at the thought they had wasted so much time.

He flicks through his favorite memories now, a quick perusal before settling on one that seems so very inconsequential but that he has never been able to shake away.  John is watching him, that same impossibly soft look in his eyes, a look that Sherlock still can’t believe is directed towards him.

Sherlock pulls his bottom lip between his teeth briefly and then takes a deep breath, settling his hands on the arms of his chair again.  “The first time I knew was the day we met with Sebastian.”

John frowns.  “Sebastian?”

“Sebastian Wilkes from the bank, you remember.”

John’s eyes light up.  “Oh, the Blink Banker case!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes and is on the verge of making a comment about how John really needs to work on his titles, but John’s expression suddenly shifts, the light in his eyes fading and his lips turning downward.

“That long ago?” he asks, and there’s something so unexpectedly sad in his voice, a quiet note that squeezes Sherlock’s heart.

He clears his throat.  “Well.  Yes.  I was–it was quite early on in our…friendship that I realized I was…”

Falling in love with you.  The words won’t form even though he’s thought them so many times that it’s become an integral part of who he is.  But neither of them have said it out loud yet, a fact which hadn’t really seemed important until this moment.  

There hadn’t been any dramatic declarations, no emotional outbursts.  It had been simple, in the end; John had come home with the shopping, heavy bags hanging from each hand, and Sherlock had turned from his place by the window (where he’d been watching as John trudged down the street, head bent against the cold).  And John had met his eyes and given him that smile, the one he frequently used to hide behind when he was feeling more emotionally tired than usual, and Sherlock had decided right then and there.  In three strides he was across the room, and it turned out that deciding to kiss John Watson had been the simplest thing he’d ever done.

He remembers the way John’s mouth, so cold from the biting chill outside, had warmed beneath his lips, his tongue; the way John’s shock had melted almost immediately, fading into heartfelt reciprocation as the groceries spilled to the floor at their feet and his hands, free of their burden, slid into Sherlock’s hair. From there, the bedroom was only a few stumbling steps away, and neither of them had looked back since.

Saying the words simply hadn’t seemed necessary after everything they had told each other with their bodies.  All of the longing and frustration and emotion had come pouring out of them in such a physical shape that they had never stopped to really define it with words.  Or perhaps, Sherlock thinks now, they had both been too afraid to give them voice.

“Sherlock.”

John’s hand touches his own where it’s curled on the armrest, and Sherlock is startled out of his memories.  He realizes he must have been silent for some time because John has moved, is now perched on the very edge of his seat, his knees nearly knocking against Sherlock’s.

“There you are,” he says, smiling softly, his head tilting as he searches Sherlock’s face for clues as to where his mind might have taken him.

Sherlock lets out a breath and flips his hand over, catching John’s fingers in his own.  “I’m sorry, I was…distracted.”

“You all right?”

“Yes.  Yes, I’m fine.  Where was I?”

John rests his elbows on his knees but keeps hold of Sherlock’s hand, folding it in between both of his own.  “The day we went to see Sebastian.”

“Right.  Yes.  It was before that, though, before the case began.”

John’s thumb rubs a warm, smooth line back and forth across Sherlock’s palm, and it makes him want to close his eyes and just exist in this moment, a feeling he can’t ever remember having had before he’d let John Watson touch him.

“I don’t remember,” John says, sounding apologetic, which is ridiculous. Sherlock supposes he must think they’re talking about some significant moment in their lives, something that should stand out.

He shakes his head.  “No, you wouldn’t.  It was…you had just come back to the flat.  You’d gone out to get the shopping.”

John’s confusion seems to increase, and he opens his mouth, but Sherlock goes on before he can say anything.

“You were in a bit of a state,” he says, and he can’t help the fondness that colors his tone.  “Apparently the chip-and-pin machine had been giving you some trouble.”

Realization dawns slowly across the lines of John’s face, first in the widening of his eyes and then in the shaping of his lips into a small “oh.”

“You…that was when you knew?” he asks, and he sounds so disbelieving that Sherlock laughs.

“That was when I began to know, yes.”

John shakes his head slowly, seemingly bewildered.  “But…why?  I was such a grumpy arse that day–”

“It was cute,” Sherlock says before he can stop himself.

John’s eyebrows rise so high on his forehead that Sherlock almost can’t see them beneath his fringe, which is quite a feat considering the length of John’s hair.  Sherlock’s cheeks flood with heat, and when John opens his mouth, presumably to give him the teasing of a lifetime, he glares as fiercely as he can.

“Not.  A.  Word,” he says through his teeth.

John’s mouth shuts with an audible click, but his eyes are wide, and he pulls his lips between his teeth in a clear effort to restrain his laughter.  Sherlock continues to glare at him, but it doesn’t seem to be having any effect whatsoever, and only a few seconds pass before John can no longer contain himself.  He breaks down into uncontrollable giggles, leaning forward to press his forehead to the back of Sherlock’s hand, which he still has a hold on.

Sherlock sighs and falls back against his chair in a dramatic fashion.  “Oh, go on then.”

John shakes his head, still bent double.  “Cute,” he gasps through his laughter. “I didn’t even know you knew that word!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, but John’s giddiness is infectious, and, try as he might, he can’t quite keep his own face straight.  “Well, you should’ve been recording it because I’m never saying it again,” he says, but the sour effect he’s going for is lost in the twist of his lips.

John straightens up, tugging at Sherlock’s hand insistently.  “Oh, god, c’mere,” he says.  His eyes are damp, and his smile is so huge he can hardly kiss properly, but Sherlock really doesn’t mind, not when John is climbing clumsily into his lap, his hands warm on either side of his face, tilting it back to get better access to his mouth.

“I can’t believe you think I’m cute,” John whispers, and Sherlock pinches his side in retaliation.  John’s answering laugh bubbles up against Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock’s hand curls around the back of his skull, holding him there.  John’s lips turn soft and pliant, his smile fading with a soft noise as Sherlock’s tongue slicks into his mouth.

He’s lost in it almost instantly, in the press of John’s body, the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of Sherlock’s shirt, the feeling of John’s hair between his fingers.  His mind goes quiet except for the thought of more, and his hips push up, seeking blindly, wanting

“Mm, wait,” John murmurs, and his hands curl around Sherlock’s shoulders, stilling him.  “Not yet.”

“Hmm?”  His brain is too weighted with lust to say anything more coherent, a fact that would have horrified him only a week ago, before he knew what it felt like to have John Watson in his arms.

John pulls away slightly, sitting back against Sherlock’s thighs.  Sherlock attempts to follow, but John catches his chin in one hand, his thumb sliding across his lower lip, causing tingles to erupt down Sherlock’s spine.

“We had a deal, remember?” John says.  His eyes remain fixed on Sherlock’s mouth for another moment before he lifts them to meet Sherlock’s hooded gaze. “You tell me yours, and I tell you mine.”  He smiles.  “My turn.”


Part One | Part Two

OKAY so that ended up being longer and a bit…more than I meant for it to, but there you have it.  I’d like to go ahead and say that this was rather inspired by @thespiritualmultinerd‘s comment on this post here.  After reading that I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so you have them to thank for this.  :D

I guess there will now be a part three because I can never seem to do anything easily lmao.  Thanks for reading, friends, I hope it was worth the little wait.  <3 Just tags below the cut.  I apologize if I left anyone out.  <3

@hockeybella25 @isitandwonder @astronbookfilms @johnlockerooni @jonhlocks@astudyinsnoggy @one-thousand-leaves @theloneviolin @an-east-wind @hushwatson @lilbeelocked @freebirdflyingforever @perpetuallylostinmyownworld @ouramazingworldofbooks @holmesique @bellarium @highfunctioningfangirl @lediona25 @atypical-snowman @cyn2k @wssh13 @johnlockphanseptipliermkay @joyfulblazestarlightlove @daringlydomestic @smol-owl-bean @cj-holmes @giddystars @anyawen @sherlockisactuallyagirlsname221 @sarzipanbatch @mssmithlove1 @madelinecookie @quirkycinnamon @august-emerald @softhoratio @sherlock-totally-loves-john @lenlaterz @moch-ila @the-hopeless-existentialist @221bbookshelf @pixelpawnie @busybiscute @wiscolina @jazziejexbird @reynardinepttr

theother-fiftyone  asked:

ok um i'm trash but um can i have a fic where like michael is really protective of jeremy (for whatever reason) and just everyone is gay and it's great

Ay, back at it again with the late replies to asks I should have done ages ago (IM SORRY). Hope this will suffice, thank you for the prompt!

——

The plan was for Jeremy to get out of hospital, ask out Christine and live a normal high school life as a normal high school teenager - now with a few more friends. What Jeremy wasn’t anticipating was Michael’s change in attitude when he got back.

Michael, his best friend for twelve years, had suddenly become very… attached to Jeremy. He hadn’t noticed at first, focusing more on his plan to ask out Christine or catching up on any work that The Squip had previously deemed ‘uncool’ or ‘useless’. But as the days went by Jeremy began to notice Michael’s presence more and more. Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for Michael to have his bad days and follow Jeremy around for the majority of the school day but by the end of the week Jeremy couldn’t think of one instance where Michael had left his side.

When Monday came, Jeremy found Michael waiting outside his house to walk to school. The two stood side by side as Michael hopped along the pavement with his headphones around his neck, looking around as if he was expecting someone to pop out behind the passing houses. As he began to calm down, Jeremy took a closer look at his best friend. He noticed that his eyes were slightly more droopy than normal, little bags had begun to form underneath them. His hair was ruffled and he was wearing the wrong shoes, as if he was in a hurry to leave the house. Despite this, Michael still wore his generic giddy smile on his face, the look which made Jeremy’s heart melt slightly on the inside.

At lunch time, Rich and Jake approached the two, asking if they wanted to join them at their table in the far corner of the cafeteria. There sat the rest of the group - Brooke, Chloe, Jenna and Christine - eagerly waving at the best friends. Before Jeremy could reply with some cheap excuse as to why he wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden, Michael jumped in between them, turning to Jeremy.

“Come on dude, lets go sit with them! It’ll- It’ll be fun,” he stammered out the last past, suddenly dragging his best friend across the hall before he had a chance to protest. Under his breath, Jeremy heard him mutter “no harm done yeah? Yeah…”

Jeremy, naive Jeremy, brushed off the encounter as Michael just acting up as he sometimes did. But a few days later Jeremy was walking down the hallway on the way to his next class when he heard Michael catch up to him, skidding to a stop once he reached his best friend.

“How was math?” He small talked, slurping the remains of his slushie.

“It was fine, I guess. I wish Mr David would ease up on the homework though, I’m starting to get-” before Jeremy could continue, he was stopped in his tracks by Michael. He turned to see a mixture of anger and fright on his face, a look that really didn’t suit him. Jeremy tried to follow his line of sight but was cut off by Christine shouting his name from down the hallway. He looked back and waved, but when he returned to his best friend’s gaze it was gone, replaced with what looked to be a sympathetic smile as he saw Christine.

“I’ll… uh- catch up with you later Jer,” he mumbled before setting off in the opposite direction without letting Jeremy say a word.

Jeremy tried to give Christine a decent conversation but it was clear he was distracted by something else. He kept turning to look down the hallway in which Michael had seen something, making him stop dead in his tracks. He couldn’t help but wonder what he had seen. Jeremy briefly heard Christine asking if he was alright, to which he replied some rehearsed nonsense about being tired from schoolwork while he continued to focus on the hallway.

It wasn’t until Friday afternoon that he discovered what Michael had been so frightened of.

Jeremy had just finished play rehearsal with the gang and was making his way through the school hallways to go home. Just as the doors came into sight, he spotted a group of - maybe two or three - boys hanging around the doorway, blocking the entrance. They seemed to be waiting for someone, so Jeremy naturally assumed they were one of the many friends of Jake or Chloe. However, as he began to approach, one of the boys spotted him coming and alerted the other two of his arrival. Confused, Jeremy stopped walking and spoke up;

“Um hi… could I get past please? You’re kind of blocking the door,” he stuttered, trying not to mess up his wording in front of the intimidating boys. But neither moved an inch. Instead, the main boy came forward, speaking slowly and articulating his words so precisely it sent a shiver down Jeremy’s spine.

“That was kind of the point mate,” he chuckled and the other two joined in. “We were just waiting for someone…”

“Oh…” said Jeremy, slowly shifting his feet. “W-who?”

Deep down, he already knew the answer.

“You.”

Now, Jeremy had dealt with bullies before, being a loser and all. He was used to the unoriginal insults and the occasional shove. But these guys were clearly not messing around, going out of their way to wait for him after school and everything. Jeremy took a step backwards in fear.

“You’re the guy that possessed my brother yeah?” The main boy snarled. Jeremy’s face twitched for a second, taking another step back.

“P-possessed?!”

“He told me bout it. Said some dude in his drama rehearsal tried to take over the whole cast. Course, the guy doesn’t care now. He’s way too forgiving for his own good my brother,” the boy continued, slowly inching forwards. His friends had now joined his march a few feet behind him. “Fortunately for you, I’m nothing like the guy. I’m a solid believer that you deserve what’s coming to you buddy.”

Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He couldn’t keep retreating forever, the gang would eventually catch up to him, and there was no way he was going to slip past these three boys. Caught up in his thinking, he stopped retreating. Jeremy realised his mistake too late as he felt his whole body smash up against a locker. His head smacked the metal plating behind him, causing an immediate headache to rush into his head. He blinked and locked eyes with the bully.

“Or maybe, I just want an excuse to beat up a nerd,” he smirked, lifting his fist to the air. His two friends stood back, watching the whole ordeal go down without interfering. Jeremy shut his eyes closed and tensed up, preparing himself for a blow to the face at any moment.

Instead, he felt his body suddenly drop the ground as a loud grunt came from the boy. Confused, he peeled his eyes open to see the previously menacing boy sprawled across the floor with a bloody nose. His two friends had stepped back in fear at the cause of the punch. The guy responsible stepped forward and glared at the two, signalling - or warning - for them to leave. They did as instructed, picking up the brother and rushing out the door without saying a word.

Jeremy’s head had began to ease up just enough for him to start to process what had just happened when his arm was flown over a shoulder and he was heaved up onto his feat. The familiar smell of weed and slushie suddenly hit him and he knew exactly who had come to him rescue.

“Michael?” He spat out, turning to face the boy. Now that he was fully standing on his own, he could focus on the boy. Michael’s face was covered in sweat. His eyes glimmered with a hint of fear and relief at the sight of his best friend and a large bruise had begun to form on his knuckle from where he had punched the bully.

“Michael,” he said again, this time more definite. It was at that point where Michael’s intimidating persona faded as his eyes began to well up with tears. He flung himself onto Jeremy and dug his head in his neck as he began to sob.

“I’m- I’m sorry I just…” he muttered through his tears, “I heard them… when you came back to school- they were talking about what they were going to do to you- and I just… I just wanted to make sure that you were ok-”

“Thank you Michael,” was all Jeremy could muster before his eyes too began to fill up with tears. The boys sat there, in the school hallway, for about ten minutes silently crying until Jeremy sat up and pulled Michael up with him as they slowly made their way out of the building.

——

“Morning!” Jeremy greeted his friends by the school entrance. By his side was Michael with his bandaged knuckle and huge smile on his face.

“Morning bro!” Replied Jake. The group shared a quick conversation before entering the school and as they walked down the hallway Michael stood proudly by Jeremy’s side.

“Oh my gosh Michael,” exclaimed Christine as she noticed the white bandages across his hand, “what happened? Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry Chris,” replied Jeremy, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “he’s got it under control.”

Just up ahead, a brief conversation between Rich and Jake could be heard.

“Now that I think about it, my bro was acting a little strange last night. He came home with a broken nose and started ranting on about this dude in a hoodie.”

“No way!” Rich cried, “your bro got beat up by some kid in a jacket?”

“Yeah yeash,” replied Jake who appeared to be pondering the thought. “He said someone about him being utterly terrifying, looming over him and protecting his lanky best-”

Slowly, the two boys locked eyes and turned to find Michael’s hand bruised after Christine insisted on changing the bandage. He looked up to see the boys staring and smirked. Turning to Jeremy, he flew an arm around his shoulder and paraded forward, passing the two as he went. Turning round, Michael brought his damaged hand up to his eyes and returned the glare, signalling NOT to touch his best friend in case they also wanted a piece of what he could do.

Deep down, Michael just wanted his hand to heal quicker. He couldn’t press the buttons on the controller properly with a bruised knuckle, but the image of being a type of bodyguard for Jeremy - it made it all worthwhile.

Haha no for real tho where is the 100k shance zombie apocalypse au fic where Shiro and Lance low key knew each other before and Lance was hella looking up to + crushing on him, then when they meet again Shiro has a tight group of tough survivors, he’s missing a hand and that spark his eyes used to have.

They’ve all seen some shit, but Shiro… he can’t even recognize him anymore. It’s the same voice, vaguely the same face, but the man? Gone.

All of Lance’s attempts at bringing back the lively, smiling Shiro he used to know and adore fail. There’s only the stone faced leader the plague has made him. And sure, he can still be compassionate, but there’s no warmth behind it. Only duty.

Lance almost gives up when it happens. One night, after a successful raid, they all drink as a celebration. Lance laughs, sings, plays the guitar they found a few weeks back. He glances at Shiro almost as much as Shiro glances at him, only because they’re both stupid clueless dumbasses who don’t believe they deserve the other, neither of them notices.

Only Lance does see something. A smile. The first genuine one he’s seen since they found him. It’s small, almost hidden by the dark, but Lance catches it. And it takes his breath away. His fingers fumble on the strings and he actually stops playing because he gets so flustered. Everyone laugh, and by the time he catches Shiro’s face again, the smile is gone. But now he has hope.

From then on, it’s just a waiting game. Lance will bring him flowers, use ridiculous pick up lines to make him laugh, sing and play the guitar whenever he just can… and it works. Shiro is recognizable again. A changed man, but not a completely different one. He smiles more, even cracks a joke every now and then. Slowly, warmth seeps back into him. His lips are definitely warm when he kisses Lance by the fire one late night, after everyone already went to sleep.

So….. where is it? What do you mean it doesn’t exist???? I need it :’(

anonymous asked:

Hey I love your writing! Can I please have a Niall imagine where you get into a bad fight and he walks out and comes back later when he's calm down to find you in the bathroom crying holding something of his? Kind of specific I'm sorry!! 💖

~1,527 words

***************

“God (Y/N) i just want to go out with the lads for a beer. Get off my back!” He snapped at you while he stomped out of the bedroom and down the hall. Jumping off the bed you followed him.

“Get off your back?! Niall, you’ve gone out for a beer every night this week and the last. You’re at the studio all fucking day and you come home late. I just want one night with you!” He didn’t even react to your words as he went to the closet and pulled out his jacket and boots. “Are you fucking listening? Sometimes I feel like you don’t care anymore. You stopped texting me during the day, and stopped saying goodbye in the mornings. You haven’t even said ‘I love You’ since last saturday.” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you watched him slip his boots on his feet. You hate fighting and you hate acting this clingy but it felt like he wasn’t even in love with you anymore.

Niall finally made eye contact with you, anger was present in his blue eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart drop to your stomach. “Maybe I go out all the time because you’re so goddamn needy. You constantly want my attention. And I have other things to worry about then saying I love you.”  He pulled his hat onto his head, “Don’t bother waiting up. I might even just crash at Bressie’s house.” His voice had no hint of emotion, turning on his heel he left without another word.

You stood, frozen, staring at the closed front door. You’ve been dating for two years and this was the first fight where you actually felt like he was going to leave you. Even when he was pissed he would still say he loves you, but the look in his eyes made you feel as though that love was gone. Niall did have a loose tongue and would say things he didn’t mean but the words he just said seemed like they were from his heart.

The tears you tried to hold back now fell freely from your eyes, drenching your cheeks. Your feet absent mindedly carried you back to the bedroom and into the walk in closet where you found his favorite sweater. The cream colored fabric still smelled like his cologne and body wash. Taking the sweater into the bathroom you closed the door and sank down to the cool tile floor where you then let all your emotions out. Heavy sobs racked through your body as you hid your face in Niall’s sweater, desperate to feel close to the man you loved; even though it was starting to feel like that love wasn’t mutual.

-

“You good mate?” Deo asked Niall while he nudged his shoulder, “You’ve been zoning in out all night.”

“It’s just- I’m fine.” He responded taking another sip of his Guinnes. His anger and frustration had worn off a while ago and the gravity of what he said, and didn’t say, was just now hitting him. Guilt filled his stomach the more he realized you were right.

“What did you do, Horan?” Another one of the lads asked, all of his friends eyes were on him now.

“I had a fight with (Y/N) before I left and I was a dick.”

“What was it about?” Bressie asked.

“She wanted me ta stay home tonight and watch a movie. She was also upset that I’ve been going out a lot and haven’t really spent time with her.”

“You have been going out a lot though and you’re living in the studio. Why didn’t ya just stay home?” Deo pointed out.

“I- I don’t know, I’m just stressed that the album isn’t gonna be that good and I just wanted a beer. I’m an ass okay, now I wish I just stayed home. Wouldn’t be surprised if I go home and find that all her stuff is gone.” The last sentence almost brought tears to his eyes, he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from crying in front of his friends.

“Why don’t ya just go home, man.”

Niall took a deep breath to ward of his tears before nodding and grabbing his hat off the table, “Bye guys.” He said standing up and leaving without waiting for a response. His boots tapped on the pavement as he made his way to the range rover, telling the fans that he couldn’t stop for pictures. The whole drive back to the house he tried to piece together an apology, he stopped at a gas station and got a bouquet of flowers and all your favorite types of candy. He knew that the flowers and candy would do little to make up for the way he has been acting but it was worth a shot.

When he pulled into the driveway he sighed in relief to see your car still parked but as he looked into the windows he saw that all the lights were off. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath thinking that maybe you got one of your friends to pick you up.

He slowly came into the home and toed off his boots listening for any sign that you were still in the house. Niall had never been so happy to still see your shoes lying on the floor, it was one of his pet peeves that you didn’t put them away on the rack in the closet. He didn’t hear the tv in the den or in the bedroom, it was still fairly early in the evening so he doubted that you had gone to sleep. Wondering around the house he called out for you, “(Y/N)?! Petal, where are ya? I’m sorry I’m such an ass.”

You were still in the bathroom crying, the fight had happened two hours ago but you were still upset. Everytime your tears would slow you’d think about the words Niall said to you and you were right back to sobbing. His sweater was soaked with tears at this point, probably another thing that would make Niall mad at you.

Niall had given up on trying to find you, he walked into the bedroom dropping the bag of candy and flowers on the bed with a huff. He went to go into the bathroom but when he turned the knob and open the door the last thing he expected to see was you sitting on the floor crying with his sweater held tightly in your hands.

Your hair was messily hanging out of your ponytail,  your face was red and blotchy, and your eyelids swollen from crying so much. “Babe..” Niall sighed sinking down to the floor next to you. His presents made you jump, looking up at him you let out a choked sob. All you wanted to do was jump into his arms and hold onto him but he told you you were needy so you stayed where you were.

“Come here princess.” He said sadly pulling you into his chest and rubbing your back. Tears soaked into his shirt but he didn’t care, “I’m so fucking sorry my love. I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re not needy or clingy and nothing is more important than you. I’ve just been really stressed and I didn’t want to burden you with it so I’d just go out.”

“Then why di-d you say that?” You said into his chest, your breath hitched as you tried to talk.

Niall’s heart broke as he heard your voice, “Because I’m stupid and ya know that. I’ve been struggling to get the album together and today was particularly rough, I took that frustration out on you and I’m really sorry about that.”

The two of you sat on the bathroom floor for a good ten minutes before you finally looked up at him, he smiled down at you sadly before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Do ya forgive me?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” You answered. “Do you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing for me to forgive darlin’, ya did nothing wrong. You were right, I wasn’t spending enough time with you. So tomorrow we’re gonna go out for dinner and a movie then I want ya to tag along to the studio with me. Sound good?”

You nodded cuddling closer into his chest. “Why did ya take my sweater?” He asked. You blushed not wanting to tell him but you did anyway.

“I-I just wanted to feel a close to you.” You responded, your cheeks even redder now. Your answer made Niall realize just how much you missed him and it made him feel like shit.

“I’m sorry love.” He whispered into your hair. “Why don’t we go lay on bed instead of sitting on the hard tile. I also got ya all your favorite candy and some flowers.” You chuckled at his thoughtfulness and the fact that he got you candy and flowers to apologize.

Niall helped you stand and led you by your hand into the bedroom where you both stuffed your face with candy while you just enjoyed each other’s company.

twitter:heartbrokennjh // Wattpad:brokenboyclifford

anonymous asked:

Hey I'm new to the fandom and I think I just joined while lairport was happening last year but it made no sense at the time so do you maybe have a link to a masterpost or something for me? Thanks 💞💞

 During this time they we kicking off OTRA in Australia. Niall had already been there for a few weeks cause of the Australian Open, Liam flew in the day before and Zayn was MIA as per usual. The only ones left that were not in Australia were were Harry and Louis, who at the time were both in LA, so everyone became super 👀  wondering if they would fly in together for the first time in 3 years. 

In Feb 4 (in LA Feb 5 in Australia) Harry and Louis arrived in LAX separately which started the meltdown

Keep reading

Frost (Chapter Thirteen)

Tony solves the “frost” problem so he and Loki can be together, but Loki doesn’t react very well to the whole idea, so there is some angst, and Tony has to lay some tough love (and I don’t mean rough sex lol) on Loki to get him to calm down. And then just the start to some NSFW because you actually have to wait until Fourteen for the smut and I enjoy torturing you!


Let me know what you think :)   (about the chapter, not about me making you wait for smut lol)

Magic number is 170 likes/reblogs and Ill post chapter fourteen today too!

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)
**************

“There’s the prettiest women in the realm.” Tony stood in the doorway of the healing room and sent the women his best smile.

“Anthony.” A slim woman with dark hair nearly to her waist stood and embraced him. “What brings you to the healing chambers? Surely you are not sick?”

Surely you aren’t.” A blonde that barely came to his shoulder had to stand on her absolute tip toes to kiss his cheek, but she did anyway. “We did such a wonderful job this last session with you.”

“You did.” Tony kissed each back, calling a hello to the three other women in the huge room. “But I came to ask a favor, if I could.”

“Of course Anthony.” The blonde led him to a chair and he blushed when her hand lingered on his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

Tony took a moment to relax into their always unbelievably comfortable chairs, to glance around the calming space that smelled of lavender and something sweet. The healers themselves were old enough that even Thor called them ancient, though they were all shockingly beautiful and looked no older than their mid twenties. Tony had enjoyed the weeks he had spent in their company as they healed his body, and they had enjoyed his charm and wit and easy flirtations as they worked.

“I need a spell or a potion or something magic that only you beauties would know.” Tony began, and grinned when they all giggled. Just lovely, lovely women. “I need something to protect me from Loki’s frost giant form.”

“Oh.” Soft, concerned murmurs, and one of the women in the corner made her way over.

“You have been threatened, Sir Anthony?”

“Nothing like that.” Tony cleared his throat. “I would just rather not be… frozen when he and I are close.”

“I see.” She tapped her upper lip thoughtfully. “Something that simply protects you, and does not interfere with more pleasurable pursuits.”

“A woman after my own heart.” Tony clasped his hands over his heart dramatically. “Please. If you would.”

“I would very pleased to help.” She was already moving, gathering supplies, and Tony kicked himself for not remembering their names, especially now when he very well could have written her poems of thanks. But in his defense, being ancient came along with names no one could pronounce anymore, so he supposed it wasn’t his fault.

“You are very special to us, do you realize?” A fourth woman asked, this one a red head with curls down to her shoulders. “The one chosen for both Our King and Our Prince. The tales of the chosen Hjartslattur were old even when we came to be.”

“Really?” Tony blinked at her and she smiled.

“Of course. We have long waited to meet you. And when you came to us so broken we were afraid… afraid that we were not strong enough to help you.”

“Terrified, really.” Another chimed in. “Thank the gods you healed.”

“Yes.” The one mixing the potion brought it to him in a delicate crystal bottle, with words written out on the tag she attached. “You healed and now are fulfilling the hjartslattur bond and it is wonderful.”

“This, before midnight, and the spell three times.” she instructed and Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Every day?”

“Just the once.” She looked at him disapprovingly. “What sort of healer would I be if my spells and charms only worked once?”

Most would call you a sorceress.” Tony teased and she bent to kiss his forehead.

Most would be correct. Now go. Take it before midnight tonight.”

“Thank you.” Tony bowed low, and blew kisses just to make them all giggle and went on his way.

Really, just the loveliest ladies.

Keep reading

Total Knockout: Boxer!Tom AU

A/N: I had an itch to do this about a month ago, but Boxer!Tom Night with @tbholland yesterday set me over the edge. Inspired by my favorite boxing movie, Southpaw, so you’ll see some similarities 😉

Warnings: Swearing (always), Angst for days, TW blood (???), TW mention of pain killers

——-

Boxing was our life. It was all we’d ever done. I say ‘our’ because for as long as I’d known Tom, since we were kids, that’s what he’d always been. Even before a contract, even before his name was up in lights, he was a fighter. And he was my fighter. And before you up and judge me for being cheesy, I’ll tell you that the first day I met him was when he punched a boy in the school yard for trying to get a hand up my skirt after I’d told him no.

Almost ten years later and he was still my defender, but I was his, too. It was my job to keep it all running. It was my job to keep him safe from everything that wasn’t a glove. I was the woman behind the man, and when the pressure was on him, the pressure was on me, too.


We took separate cars to Madison Square Garden for the fight. I knew Tom needed to be with the boys right up until it was time, and I didn’t mind. I was texting his mom from where I sat in the backseat. Yes I’d look after him, no Nikki don’t watch it, yes I’ll give him your love.

This was a big fight. He’d been undefeated for so long, there was a lot riding on tonight. The town car pulled into the back entrance and I got out, pulling down the hemline of my dress. I passed security confidently —they knew I was coming— making my way to the back room where they would be prepping him.

I knocked on the door, trying to suppress my own jitters. The door opened and Tom’s coach, Yousif, greeted me.

“Hi, beautiful.” He kissed me on the cheek.

“How is he?” I asked, glancing across the room. I could see Tom sitting on the edge of a table with his headphones on, looking down at the ground with intensity.

“I think we’ve got him there. I think he’s ready. But you gotta seal the deal, you know how he is.”

I nodded. He’s anxious. He always was. It was 20 minutes until start.

“I need a minute.” I said to Yousif.

He clapped his hands together, “You got him, Queen. Hey boys!” He called over to the handful of Tom’s friends, milling around the room. They knew it was my time.

Harrison was his cutman tonight, so I made sure to pull him aside as he walked toward the door.

“Watch that left brow, Haz. That’s where it always starts.” Harrison held up some bandages already with him and put a hand on my shoulder, “He’s gonna be fine. He’s ready.”

The door closed behind me and Tom still hadn’t looked up. That was normal for him, he was in a trance. I approached him from across the room, my heels clicked on the concrete as I pep talked myself in preparation to pep talk him.

“Hey.” I prompted, stepping into his line of sight. He looked up at me, face softening at my smile. I pulled his hands around my waist and slid the headphones off his ears.

“Hey baby–” he leaned up to kiss me. His lips were hungry, but he was the first to break away. He was always the first to break away before a fight. He let me look him over for a minute. I always wanted to memorize his face before he went out. It was hard on me and he knew it, but we both knew this was the only way for him. It had only ever been boxing.

“You ready, King?” I asked, moving my hips like I was revving him up. His eyes were adoring but his face was serious.

“I can do this one. I’ve got him. No problem.”

I bit back a smile. Growing up, Tom always used to say “No problem”, even if the kid he was about to fight was twice his size. That happened a lot, when we were kids. But this wasn’t then. This is what he trained to do. He needed this win.

And in that moment, I knew he didn’t need to hear it from me, too. So I scrapped my speech, all the words about his mum worrying and the crowd cheering, and just pulled him to my forehead.

“Don’t get hit too much, ok?” I whispered.


I was seated front row next to Harry, who was periodically leaning over and promising me Tom was ok. But I wasn’t so sure that he was ok. It was like he was a newcomer in the ring, a baby in comparison. I needed to stop that line of thinking.

“Guard your fucking eye!” Yousif was screaming.

“Why is he taking so many punches?” I whispered to myself. Sure, Tom was getting the hits in, but he was hardly defending. Blow after blow went back and forth between the two of them, blood was running down his face and I was biting the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from screaming, too.

The bell rang and Tom collapsed in the corner, Harrison on his face in an instant. Yousif crouched down in front of him, yelling instructions. Tom looked tired. It was heading into the tenth and he still hadn’t finished this.

Over the noise of the crowd, I could hear him saying “I know I know I know. Fuck! I know.” He squeezed his eye shut as Harrison fixed him up as best he could. I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.

“Tommy!” I shouted, his head immediately snapping in my direction. I threw my hands up in confusion. “Knock him out, babe!” He was breathing hard and he didn’t say anything, but I knew he felt my words in his core. The bell rang and he flew up.

Right hook, bob, cross, fall back, one-two punches. A left corkscrew put him bleeding on the canvas. The referee got to the count of six and he was up again, coming back fierce. He ducked and jabbed and weaved his way around the ring, keeping off the ropes. But he was still getting hit, a significant amount.

“Fuck.” Harry hissed. “Come on, Tom.”

Then something changed. I could see it through the blood running down his face. Like he was just sick of it. In a flamboyant fashion, he landed a series swings and with one final blow and the longest count of 8 I’d ever endured in my life— he won.

The stadium exploded and all the guys around me screamed and shook one another as Tom’s fist was raised high in the air and models surrounded him and a belt was placed in his hands. It was everything we wanted, but I felt sick inside. Cameras flashed on me as Tom turned in my direction and blew me a kiss. I beamed as bright as I could fake and then was whisked backstage to the prep room to wait for him.

The aftermath was always a flurry. Everyone shouting, trying to keep the loser away from the winner, press settling in for the post-conference. I couldn’t stand to sit out there on his panel tonight, so I waited and watched on the television screen.

He looked like absolute shit. Harrison had done his best and Tom obviously had to check out with the fight physicians, but I swear the other guy had about beat his face in. I could only imagine how many bloody towels were sitting just off camera.

Tom smiled bright as he was peppered with questions about his come-from-behind win. He laughed as reporters teased him about getting beat up pretty good. And he shrugged nonchalantly when asked if he’d take on another challenger in the next couple of weeks.

After the news conference ended I could hear the boys all coming down the hall. When the door opened, Tom came trudging through. He looked worse in person, his exhaustion a clear physical weight on his shoulders. He managed a dopey smile at me.

“Hi Princess.” He extended an arm for me to come near, and I reluctantly did.

“I think you’re going to need another shower before we leave here.” I mumbled into his shoulder. He kissed my hair over and over, so happy with himself.

“Can’t hit the town smelling like a winner, eh?” He teased.

I stepped back and stared at him.

“You aren’t honestly thinking about going to the after parties, are you?” I glared over and Harrison and Harry, who both avoided eye contact.

I frowned at Tom as he tried to sway me, “Come on, love. We won! It’s going to be fucking wild. You can join me for this second shower, if that’d help.” He winked as best he could with his tortured face, and Harry made some type of choking sound. Harrison was used to it.

I shook my head at him, feeling my frustration rise. He needed to go home. He needed to rest. We needed to talk.

My wishes were unsurprisingly ignored. Tom was always susceptible to peer pressure, and with the guys rehashing the fight play by play, bolstering his ego like it was their job, of course he was going to want to celebrate.

We were lead out a main exit where a massive crowd lined the barricades, and flashes of cameras made my vision spotty. Security kept close and Tom clutched my hand as we made our way to the car, and then to the party.

Once we had arrived, he sat proudly next to me, his hand never leaving my thigh, inching his way up it, in fact. My skin tight dress felt suffocating as I sat silently, counting down the minutes until the night was over.

Finally, well after midnight with the party still raging, Tom turned to me.

“Ready to go, Princess?” He was definitely a bit buzzed, but not smashed, and I thanked God for that. I needed him coherent.

“I’m ready.”

Our ride home was silent. The boys were gone, the cameras were gone, and his hand on my thigh was gone. I could see in the faint light that his jaw was set, and he wouldn’t look at me. My stomach twisted with anxiety, but I hardened myself. There was a fight coming, and we both knew it.

After the car pulled into the driveway, he made no effort to open the door for me, a gesture he rarely skipped. Instead, he walked straight into the house and left me trailing behind on his heels.

“Don’t do this to me.” I called to him as we jogged up the stairs. I could see him wince even ten steps ahead of me, and it wasn’t from my words.

“Do what?” He yelled back, heading to our room. “I couldn’t possibly understand what the problem is here.”

“Don’t make me look like I’m nagging and crazy! You know why we have to talk!”

We were in the bedroom now, Tom grunting as he pulled his shirt over his head, grabbing a bottle of pain killers.

“What happened out there tonight?” I motioned out the window.

“Baby, I won. That’s what happened.” He still wouldn’t look at me, instead bracing himself on the edge of the bathroom sink.

“No, no. You punched the hardest. I don’t equate that to winning.”

Tom’s head turned sharply to look at me now, his face disgusted, his already fat lip pouted out even further, “I spend years being the underdog and now I’m finally making it and you’re telling me you’ve got a problem? You’re by me when I lose but not when I win?”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Tom. You are all I care about. You get that?” I was desperate for him to hear me.

“Why do you have to bring this up now?” He spat bitterly.

I could feel the lump in my throat rising, “You know Tom, someday I’m going to have your children, and when I do I don’t want them afraid of their father’s face.” Then, as an after thought I added, “If this keeps up they’ll be lucky to even know their own father’s face.”

Tom looked up at the ceiling, hands running up into his hair.

“Baby, I won! This is good for us!”

“Yeah but it’s taking you way too long to get off now. You’re going to be punch drunk before you’re 25 if you keep up fighting like this.”

He moved towards me, arms spread wide, “What, baby? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to block a punch now and then. It’s not weak to play defense.” I argued.

Tom shook his head in frustration, “That’s not how I fight.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, “That’s how you’re going to fight if you expect me to believe that you love me and want to be with me for the rest of your life.”

Tom’s eyes widened at my ultimatum. It felt harsh, but I meant it. He wouldn’t live to see old age if he kept up at this rate. He stumbled over to the edge of the bed and sat beside me, resting his head on my shoulder. His hands clung to me as though I might walk out of the room at any second.

“I can’t lose you. You know I can’t lose you.” He choked out. I felt hot tears running down my arm.

My eyes filled with tears, too, “I am here for you. But you need to know that all these other guys, they’re in it for the glory. The minute your bad days start to outnumber your good, they’re all just going to scatter. When they’re gone, I’ll still be here. I’ll still believe in you. So for my sake, I need you to take a few less hits.”

“Ok…ok…” he whispered, still holding me, still on my shoulder.

“I love you. Ok? I love you.” I turned his chin up to look at me, “We’re in this big bad world together.”

His teary eyes turned to loving ones and he kissed me so hard I was glad he had the painkillers in his system.

Taking his face in my hands, I held him at arms length, “I would rather see you block a good punch then land a careless one any day of the week, you understand?” He nodded at me. He was good, but to survive he needed to smart, not just good. He knew it and I knew it.

“I’m sorry.” He said earnestly, turning to kiss my hand on his face. “I love you.”

“You know I’m proud of you.” I told him intently, standing up.

He scooted up to lean against the head of the bed while I started changing out of my miserable dress. It was quiet for a time.

“You know,” he mused, watching me, “I only went 10 rounds tonight. I’ve still got another two in me.”

My attention turned immediately in his direction and I smiled to myself, making my way over to the bed.

“Tommy Holland wants to go two whole rounds?” I whispered, crawling gently on top of him in my underwear, “With me?”

“Fuck.” He swallowed, looking me up and down, “If I have my way, I’d like to make you go three rounds.”