i'm sorry this was the first thing that went through my head

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

Keep reading

Lesson Learned

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are best friends. Will a figure from the past ruin everything, or will they see what’s right in front of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,484

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, drinking, fables are difficult, the grass isn’t always greener, cheesy like Hallmark movies, yadda yadda

A/N: This is my last submission for the lovely Nikki’s ( @soldatbarnes​) writing challenge. My prompt was the word Fable (and I have listed my selected one below the cut). I have suffered through this.Thanks to @sebbytrash for helping.

Originally posted by coporolight

Keep reading

Title: Evening Blue
Character: Shaun Murphy
A/n: The Good Doctor is gonna get a full season, and I’m ready to write a fuckton of stories for this show because of how happy it makes me feel. I’m also trying to use the doctor jargon, but I can only figure out so much without it becoming ridiculous, so forgive me.

You hazily began to fill out some release forms for one of your patients that had been admitted the night before, you were on call almost the entire time and you didn’t get much sleep because of it.

You felt yourself begin to nod off when your shoulders were abruptly shaken. Your eyes flung open and you turned to see Claire smirking at you.

“Late night?” She asked, placing her clipboard next to yours while she began to flip through her own papers.

You yawned, noticing that your handwriting was beginning to go all over the place. “When is it anything else?”

Claire smiled, reaching behind the counter and sliding a steaming coffee cup over to your side.

You took one glance at it and broke out into fake sobs while you hugged her. “Did I ever mention how much I love and adore you?”

You heard her laugh before you broke away from her, taking off the cup of the coffee to blow at it for a few moments before taking generous sips out of it while you finished the release form.

“Hey, I’m gonna check the OR schedule,” Claire announced after a few mintues of nothing but the sound of pen on paper occupied your space. “We can meet up for lunch though?”

“Sounds good to me, boss,” You said with a mock salute, causing her to smile again. “Try not to kill anyone.”

“I’ll do my best.” She announced, saluting back to you.

“Doctor (L/n)!”

You slightly flinched at the abrupt peak in the volume around you and your hand shot up to your head. Turning around you saw Shaun standing there, hands clasped as usual, he had a smile on his face as he walked up to you.

“Good morning, Dr. Murphy.” You said, nursing your coffee in your hands while you turned to fully face him.

“You look terrible.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, you hadn’t been around any mirrors lately, but you could easily imagine how haggard you looked after almost an entire night at the hospital.

“Yeah, I was here late last night. I’m gonna try and fix myself up before my first shift so no one else has to suffer through it.”

“O-Oh, I don’t mean that you look ugly, just very tired is all, you might want to try getting some rest at some point.” He clarified, still smiling.

You blinked, not really know whether he was trying to compliment you or not, so you smiled back. “Well thank you, how are you today?”

“It’s my first full day working here,” He said, bouncing slightly as he spoke. “I also rode the bus.”

You smiled. “Oh yeah? Sounds fun.”

“What was your first day like?”

You huffed at the sudden question, trying to think of exactly what happened, but just as you began to piece an answer, your pager went off.

“A tale for another time,” You said before waving him off. “Good luck, Shaun!”

Shaun waved back, even though you weren’t looking at him anymore. “Thank you.”

“I got to assist in surgery!”

You recognized Shaun’s voice, and you looked up from your patient files to see him bounding towards you from the end of the hall. His hair flopping all over the place when he took each step.

You smiled at the expression on his face, feeling a happy surge of proudness swallow up the current fatigue you were currently trying to ward off with excessive caffeine consumption. “Hey! That’s great!”

He nodded, his eyes flashing to you before they fell onto the window behind you. “It was a little girl, Martine, I sent her home earlier because I was on scutwork and I wasn’t allowed to do much. Nurse Fryday was my boss for today, but Martine had an intestinal malrotation, she was totally unresponsive when I first went to get her but she’s doing fine now. I was only on suction but what matters is that she’s okay now.”

All of this was said very quickly, he stumbled over a few of his words but you were able to get the main idea of his tangent.

“You know, your pretty good at this whole doctor thing.” You mused, noticing his smile broadened as he stood taller.

“I didn’t do much, only suction.” He reminded.

You yawned into your the crook of your arm and leaned against the wall, your eyes shutting momentarily. “Doesn’t matter, you were the one to figure it out. And you were the one who drove out of your way to get her. She’s alive because of you.” Shaun took notice to how your speech had slowed down, and you broke off during the end of your sentences.

There was silence, and you opened your eyes to check on him, only to find Shaun sitting on the ground next to you, leaning close to your face.

“You haven’t gotten any rest, have you?”

You shook your head. “I tried, but there was too much to do and-”

“You should really get some proper sleep tonight, it’s very unhealthy to have multiple restless nights and it could be very potentially dangerous for you-”

“I know,” You said with a chuckle, but it sooned died off when you noticed he still looked concerned. “Hey, don’t worry too much, I’m gonna head out in a couple minutes.” You said, giving his shoulder a small nudge as you propped yourself up. Deciding to save your ‘passing out in an elevator’ story for another time.

“Do you promise?”

“Promise what?”

“Promise that you will get more rest from now on.”

You smiled, placing your bag around your shoulders before heaving a sigh. “I promise that I will get more rest, as long as you do the same.”

“I already sleep a healthy amount of hours for my age.”

You laughed, pulling your keys from your bag before turning around to face him again. “Do you-” You paused for a moment, wondering if your question would come off as odd before continuing. “-Want a ride home?”

“I’m still in my scrubs.” He pointed out.

“It’s fine, I can wait for you.”

Shaun was now looking at you, something that only happened when he was deep in thought. “That would be very nice of you, thank you.”

You watched him stand up, becoming aware now of how tall he was before you nodded at him. “I’ll meet you out front, okay?”

Shaun nodded back, trying to mask his concern when you yawned again. “Okay.”

Seeing Blind (Stiles Stilinski soulmate imagine)

Summary: As decreed by the universe, before meeting your soulmate your world is black and white. It’s not until you meet them and begin to share experiences with them that you gain different colours. For you, Stiles Stilinski is the one to light up your world.

Warnings: NSFW! There’s a section of smut (it’s very fluffy). Swearing. Fluff? I feel like I should flag fluff because I was feeling so soft and gentle when I wrote this that the sweetness might actually kill you…

Word count: 11.2k (I’m taking y’all on a journey lmao)

A/N: This has taken me so, so long to write. Please don’t let it flop! I have to say that it’s one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written…

This is for @lovefilledtragedy ‘s writing challenge! I decided to base it (loosely) on the song Seeing Blind by Niall Horan. The song is so, so lovely and I 10/10 recommend listening to it as you read :)

Big thanks to @penelope-clearwaters for helping me w the problematic sections of the plot. I couldn’t have done it without your help, bitch. (Hope the sex lives up to your expectations. There’s so much fluff I almost choked to death when I wrote it)

Pls read! You won’t regret it (I hope lmao)…feedback would be LOVED.

Originally posted by weirduniverse

ONE - ORANGE

The world had been painted in shades of black and white for as long as you’d known it.

It wasn’t as depressing as it sounded. The crippling depths of black mixed with heavenly tones of whites to form the soft glow of grey. There were a surprising number of shades you could see with only two colours, and when all you’d known was black and white, there wasn’t much to complain about. You didn’t know any better, so why would you miss something you’d never experienced?

Since the dawn of time, the universe had decided that the only way you’d gather the full spectrum of colours would be to meet your soulmate. Once you met them, you’d begin to gain colours. Orange when you first met them, every other as time passed. Each was tied to a specific emotion. In order for you to see pink, you’d have to share something intimate with them; red, you’d have to fall in love. It was a very simple concept, but one that had caused you much grief over the years.

At age twenty, you’d yet to find your soulmate. By this point, you’d began to give up. There was no way to force the universe to hand over your soulmate, and despite almost all people eventually finding them, you were terrified that you’d turn into one of the horror stories; you’d meet them when you were on your deathbed, or you’d meet them but then be immediately separated from them.

“Y/N, you’re brooding again.” At the words of your best friend you startled, the mug held between your hands dipping in the air.

Keep reading

KEITHS VLOG BROKE MY HEART SO HERES A FIC

MEGA THANKS to @hastalalaterkeith7152 for sending me quotes from the vlog so I could write this without internet and also motivating me


“I think it’s dumb.”

“Well of course you would, mullet,” Lance retorted.

“I’m just saying, there are better things we could be doing,” Keith fumed.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe trying to find Lotor?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shiro interrupted. “We haven’t found any trace of Lotor, so in the meantime, why not strengthen the coalition? It will be good for our allies to know more about their ‘defenders of the universe.’”

“Exactly,” Lance said. “So, Keith, get your butt in there and make a vlog!”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

Lance groaned. “Come on, mullet, it’s not rocket science. Vlog. Video. Log,” he drew the words out, one at a time. “Like a journal, but as a video.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Anything you want,” Shiro said. “Just be careful not to give away sensitive information, in case these ever get into the wrong hands.”

“Right. Sounds easy,” Keith muttered under his breath. Why couldn’t somebody else go first? That would make it easier. So far only Coran had done it, and Keith had learned from experience not to follow his example when it came to film making. But Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Coran were all working on castle upgrades, and Lance and Shiro had a one-on-one training session planned. That left Keith to sit alone in what Coran had deemed ‘the recording room,’ talking about himself. Something he’d never been particularly good at.

“Hey, man, take it easy,” Lance said. “No need to cry over it.”

“I’m not,” Keith said, confused.

Lance groaned again. “It was a joke.”

Of course it was a joke. Lance always made jokes. And they always flew right over Keith’s head.

“I’m not going to cry,” he said in frustration, after the door to the recording room had slid shut behind him. He sat down. Took a deep breath. Turned on the camera.

“I’m Keith, the pilot of the black lion…what should I say?” he asked. “I’m a paladin. I fly the black lion. I-I said that already, see that’s why I’m bad at this. What else am I supposed to tell you? Okay, um, I guess I’m part Galra…”

After stammering through an introduction, finding words seemed a little easier. Whenever they visited planets, people always seemed most interested—or disgusted—to learn about his heritage, so he opted to talk about that for a little while, pulling out his knife to try and bring up the memories of the trials. Then he remembered what Shiro had said about sensitive information. Maybe talking about the Blade’s secrets wasn’t such a good idea.

Keith paused, staring down at the knife, at his reflection in the shiny, rare metal. “I guess being part Galra is a big deal. Might explain why I was never really good at…connecting with people.” He thought back to the events on Arus, how Lance had tried to teach him some sort of team chant. He still thought it was dumb, not as dumb as this video, but still dumb enough. He said as much, and before he realized what he was doing, his face was heating up and he was raising his voice in anger. Why did he have to get angry so easily?

“I am so sorry,” Keith said, remembering all their allies would be watching this. He leaned back, closed his eyes to calm down. “I am so sorry, I guess…I have a bit of a temper, so…”

Words were becoming hard again. Sticking to his heritage, Keith realized, might also not be the best idea. He didn’t know enough to talk about it with the ease he’d like. And not knowing was making him angry. Not knowing where he came from. Not knowing where his mom went. Not knowing why she left.

Words were hard, but for some reason Keith couldn’t seem to make them stop coming out his mouth. Emotions were rushing out, and he couldn’t keep them bottled up anymore, but this wasn’t the time or place. There was never a time or place for the leader of Voltron to break down.

Breathing was getting hard, too. He felt tears coming, sniffled once, and frantically thought of a way to cover this up. But it was too late. He’d spilled his guts and now everyone was going to know, the team was going to know, the allied planets would know, the universe would know that Keith Kogane was just some scared little kid lost in space.

“I'm—I’m outta here! Get me outta here,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “I'm—I’m outta here!”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pilot Black, he couldn’t lead Voltron, even with Shiro back, hell, he couldn’t even make a damn vlog, whatever the hell that was. It was frustration more than anything that made him yell, “I said I wouldn’t cry!”

Keith stalked out of the recording room, the colours of the hallway swirling together as tears blurred his vision. It occurred to him that he’d left the camera on, but he didn’t care. He just needed to be alone. He was already alone. He was always alone. He was a loner. Right now, he needed to be alone somewhere safe from discovery.

He stumbled into his bedroom. He was dizzy, he couldn’t walk straight, he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be a leader. He didn’t want to be a paladin. He just wanted to be home, alone in his cozy little desert shack, back when he liked being alone, when it was easy to pretend he didn’t care about his parents, when he had no idea that he was an alien.

Keith was really crying now, hot, messy tears dripping down his face. The armor that encased his shaking body was too tight, too constricting. He fumbled to get it off, piece by piece, fingers slipping over the smooth surface as he trembled with sobs, until eventually he gave up and sank to the floor. He was all alone. Nobody wanted him. Nobody cared. Why would they? All he’d ever done was push them away.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, crouched in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. Surely there were better things he could be doing right now. Like trying to find Lotor. Or training. He could’ve taken down the gladiator at least twice by now.

The sound of the door sliding open was barely audible. Just a gentle whoosh, a whoosh Keith had heard many times before. He didn’t pay it any attention, even as someone walked into the room and knelt beside him. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing up and down, slow and gentle, heard soft words being murmured in his ear. He tried to focus on that.

“Hey, Keith. Hey, it’s okay. Shhh, it’s okay, Keith, you’re alright.”

Keith swallowed hard and steeled himself to meet the kind pair of blue eyes that looked down at him.

“L-Lance?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” Lance smiled worriedly. He brushed tear-soaked bangs from Keith’s face. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I—” Keith froze. That was just the problem. He could never bring himself to open up. He never told anybody what was wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to take down all the walls he’d spent years putting up.

“It’s okay,” Lance soothed. “You can talk to me.”

“No, I can’t!” Keith cried, much louder than he’d meant to. Lance flinched. “Can’t you see that I can’t talk to you? I can’t talk to anybody! I’m no good at it. I can’t connect with people, I can’t open up. Nobody likes me, and I try so hard, but I can’t make people like me because I always push them away and I don’t mean to but it just happens because I don’t know how to do it any different and then I’m all alone but I don’t want to be alone anymore but I can't…I just…I can’t.”

“Keith.” Lance’s strong, steady hands found Keith’s shoulders. His voice was soft, caring. “What are you talking about, man? You’re not alone. I’m right here. I’m always here for you.”

Keith wiped viciously at the tears stained on his cheeks. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

“Let’s get off the floor, huh?” Lance suggested. Keith nodded. Lance guided him to his feet and helped him take off the pieces of armor he’d missed. Keith tried to do it on his own, but he felt so clumsy and useless he ended up just standing there while Lance reduced him to the black bodysuit that was underneath all their armor.

Lance sat them both down on the edge of the bed, keeping an arm around Keith’s shoulders. He was still warm and a little bit sweaty from training, but Keith didn’t care. It felt good, Keith realized. It felt good to be close to someone and have them look out for you.

“We all care about you, Keith,” Lance said. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” Keith paused, “don’t know.”

“Well, we do. All of us. And yeah, okay, I guess your people skills could use a little work, but we know you’re trying. You’re part of the team, Keith. You’re family.” Lance squeezed his shoulder, smiling. Keith looked at him uncertainly. “What is it?” Lance asked.

“I’ve never had that before,” Keith admitted.

“You’d better get used to it,” Lance chimed. “Because we’re not going anywhere. We love you, man.”

“I love you too,” Keith managed. He was tearing up again. Lance pulled him in for a hug, and Keith went with his instinct to hug him back. Things weren’t great, but with Lance here, they were better. Speaking of which…

“How did you know to come find me?” Keith asked.

Lance ducked his head. “I, uh, kinda saw your vlog. You left the camera running.”

“The vlog,” Keith moaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking, saying all that stuff. And now the universe is going to see it. What do I do, Lance?”

“Don’t worry about it. It hasn’t been sent anywhere yet, and I’ll bet there’s a way we can delete it. And we could make a new one.”

“I don’t think my second time around will be any better,” Keith frowned.

“We’ll do it together,” Lance grinned. “We’ll call it ‘Get to Know the Two Bravest Paladins of Voltron!’ Razzle dazzle, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith chuckled. “Razzle dazzle.”

Dear Peter

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a hot mess and one day peter decides to help her clean her room? And while cleaning her room she leaves to get pizza or something. And he finds multiple little letters to peter about how much she loves him but she never sends them to him? (like they are buried underneath her messy room). Lots of Fluff (and a little angst in the letters). I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK BTW I’m a huge fan!

A/N: So I loved this idea so much that I started writing it right away. And as a person with an extremely messy bedroom I am taking offence to my own words. And this is actually kinda personal to me, I’m partially including notes I wrote to someone, exactly one year ago this month, actually. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 2576 (Wow this Is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: Nah

Masterlist

Day after day, you showed up to school late and in a clutter. Your notes were never in order, when you would open your bag, things would be falling out. You’d given up on your locker. Why bother using it if every time you opened it, something would fall on you?

You ran into chemistry five minutes after the bell, “Y/N, how nice of you to join us,” your teacher smiled.

“Sorry i’m late,” you mumbled, heading towards the back of the class where you shared a lab desk with your best friend Peter Parker.

“Let me guess why you were late today. Couldn’t find your homework in that mess of a bedroom,”

“No,” you said.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. You’re right,” you admitted.

“That’s what I thought,”

“Apparently I threw my sweater on top of it, and a pair of pants, and maybe I kept piling things on top while I was looking for it,”

“Christ, Y/N, that’s it, I’m coming over tonight and we’re cleaning your damn bedroom,”

“My bedroom is fine, Peter,”

“Clearly, it’s not. I’m coming over, and we are cleaning,”

“Fine,”

You were certainly going to have to figure out a way out of this one. You had a few things in your bedroom that you really didn’t want Peter to find.

As promised, later that evening Peter showed up at your door.

“Peter, what if I told you that I don’t want you cleaning my bedroom,”

“I’d tell you too bad,”

Peter moved past you and walked into your home.

“Peter, come on, I really don’t want your help,”

“C’mon Y/N, you really need to get organized, you’re going to start getting detentions if you show up late many more times,”

“But what if there are things in my room that I don’t want you seeing?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise to avert my eyes if there’s any underwear lying around,”

“Not what I meant, but I can see that you’re not giving up, so fine, enter my lair,” you said, stepping aside and allowing Peter into your bedroom.

Peter stepped inside and kind of sighed, “I forgot how messy your room was,”

“Now you know why I always study at your house,”

“And I always thought it was because of little old me,”

“Meh,”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Peter said, looking around.

There were piles of clothes on your floor, books staked on your desk chair, old homework was scattered everywhere, and half your bed was taken up by your computer, clothes, books, and even a few water bottles.

“Ok! So we’re going to start with the garbage,”

“You can’t throw me away, Parker. Not in my own house,”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just go grab a garbage bag and we’ll get started,”

You and Peter spent what seemed like forever cleaning.

“I’m going to start on your desk while you finish sorting though your clothes,”

“Or…. You could order some food?” Peter added 

You sighed, dropping the shirts you had in your hand, “Pizza okay?”

“Better than okay, I’m starved, and I most definitely don’t want to eat anything else that we’ve come across,”

“Ok, back off Peter, my room’s messy but I don’t have rotting food in here or anything,”

Peter pulled two completely squished chocolate bars off your desk and held them up in front of you, “I beg to differ,”

 “I’m going to go order the pizza,” you said, flipping Peter off. 

You walked out of the room and left Peter to clean off your desk.

Peter continued to clear off what he believed to be was garbage, hopefully he wasn’t throwing away anything that you may need.

There were a few pieces of paper folded up on the corner of your desk under an old coffee mug.

Peter lifted the mug, and placed it at the foot of your bed along with the other three you had found.

Peter began sorting though the papers and came across an envelope with his name on it.

Peter put the rest of the papers down and held the envelope.

I can’t open it, can I?

No.

I shouldn’t.

Peter very much so wanted to open the mysterious envelope that had his name on it.

Peter was still looking at the envelope when you walked back in.

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the envelope to you.

“You didn’t open it, did you?”

“No, of course not, I respect your privacy, I was just wondering what it was,”

You walked towards Peter, and grabbed the envelope from him.

“It’s nothing,” you lied.

“Right,” Peter said, staring at you for a moment before going back to clearing off your desk.

You and Peter cleaned in silence for the next while until the pizza arrived.

“I’ll be back,” you said, leaving the room.

When you came back, Peter was sitting on the ground of your balcony, letting his legs hang out the side through the bars.

You went out and sat down next to Peter, opening the box of pizza to offer him some.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

“No, why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t let you read the letters,”

“No, I understand. There are some things you want to keep private and other things you’re willing to share,”

You took a deep breath and pulled the envelope out of your pocket.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,”

Peter watched you, waiting to see what you would do.

“Fuck. Okay. Peter, here,” you said, outstretching your hand to him, giving him the envelope.

“No, Y/N, you clearly don’t want me to read whatever’s in there,”

“Please, take it, Peter. Just, wait until you get home to read it. And, remember that I don’t want what’s in this envelope to change our friendship. You’re still my best friend and I really can’t lose you,”

“Did you confess to a murder in here or something?” Peter joked.

You rolled your eyes, “No, Parker, just, eat your pizza,”

Peter shoved the envelope into his pant pockets and the two of you went on with your evening. You finished your pizza and went back inside to finish cleaning.

It didn’t take you much longer to completely clean your room.

By 10pm your room was rid of garbage and old homework, your clothes were put away in your dresser, and all your old coffee mugs were in the dishwasher.

“I guess I better head home before Aunt May gets worried,”

“Oh, okay,”

Peter walked towards where you were sitting on your bed.

“I’ll read your letters when I get home and talk to you tomorrow,”

Peter kissed your cheek and left.

You said on your bed, heat fluttering from Peter’s kiss. You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were too worried about how Peter was going to react to your letters.

When Peter got home, he shouted a simple hello to May and ran into his room.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, and pulled out the envelope.

He ripped it open and a handful of letters came out. 

Peter opened the first one, dated just over a year previous, a few months before he had gotten his spidey powers.

Dear Peter,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, I can’t believe I’m writing this stupid letter.

I read somewhere that writing things down is a great way to let everything out, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing you a letter to tell you how I feel.

You’re my best friend. I love you with all my heart. More than you’ll ever know, really. And if you’re reading this, stop? Because never in a million years would I actually give you this to read. Quit snooping, Parker.

Regardless, I’m always wondering if I should tell you how I feel, so I guess i’ll just do it here because I am WAY too much of a chicken to tell you in person.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, am in love with you Peter Parker.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you. I can’t remember a time that you weren’t my entire world. Peter, If you asked, I would find a way to  make a million waves in the ocean crash all at once, just to make you smile.

I still can’t believe I’m writing this down.

I really am in love with you, Peter.

Y/N.

Peter had to re-read the letter what felt like a dozen times. You were in love with him. He didn’t know what to say. He quickly pulled out the next letter. It was dated only a month after the first one.

Peter,

This is so ridiculous that I’m writing to you again. But you drive me insane! Every time I look at you I just want to run my hands through those damn curls of yours and kiss your perfect lips but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I can’t.

You make me so furious. I hate looking at you knowing that I can’t kiss you or be with you, but I also can’t not look at you because i’m in love with your stupid face.

I stand by my statement of fuck you.

Y/N.

Peter looked at the dates on all the letters, they were each dated almost a month apart.

Peter,

I miss you so much, Peter. I know I see you every day, but you’ve been hanging around me and Ned after school a lot less. I love you more than I thought I would love anyone, ever, and I’m scared to lose you. It feels like I’m losing you. I wish we could run away and leave everything behind, just you and me. Please, Peter. I miss you and I’m crying and I wish we were together.

Y/N.

Peter’s heart began to ache, he had no idea you felt this way about him. The next letter was dated after he had become Spiderman and had begun his Stark internship.

Peter,

It’s not fair that everything reminds me of you. It’s not fair that while you’re off doing whatever it is you do after school, whether its the Stark internship or not, I’m lying here awake, crying, trying not to think of you but all I can do is cry over the fact that I’ve lost you. It’s not fair that I’m going to cry myself to sleep. It’s not fair that we broke. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this pain. I haven’t done anything to deserve this much pain. It’s not fair that life is so painful. I don’t deserve this pain. I just want you back. That’s all I want. I just want you. Why does living have to be so hard?
I still feel numb. After crying for three hours tonight, I haven’t felt anything. Nothing feels real. This isn’t real. I don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m living. But it’s so hard without you, Peter. It’s so hard to not have you. I went from having everything I’d ever want or need, to nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I have is the memories of the old us. And my memory is shit. Imagine how hard this is for me. I don’t even know if you’re missing me like I miss you. I don’t even know if you’re thinking about me. I hope you are. I’d like to think you are. But, then again, who knows. I barely feel like I know you anymore. You’re my entire life. I just lost my entire life.

Y/N.

Peter couldn’t stand to read anymore. He dropped the letters on his bed, and climbed out his fire escape.
Peter began swinging towards your apartment. He landed on your balcony and knocked on the glass door.

You suddenly jumped up, and the sight of someone at your window. When you realized it was Peter you climbed out of bed and went to open the window for him to get in.

“Peter what are you doing here? Its almost 1am,”

Peter looked down at his watch (ok I know he doesn’t wear a watch cause of his web shooters but I have this weird thing where I find it so attractive for people to wear watches like?) and checked the time. You were right. He hadn’t realized he had been reading for so long.

“I needed to see you,”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I read your letters, or, I read some of them. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them,“

“Oh,” you slightly pulled away from Peter.

“No! No! Not like that. I just meant, I got to the one when I had just become Spiderman and I would spent all my time out and I ignored you and Ned, just, the letter broke my heart Y/N. I didn’t know you felt this way,”

“Well, I do. You kinda broke my heart when you stopped coming around,”

“I knew you were mad at me, I just didn’t realize that you were this upset,”

“I wasn’t just upset Peter, i’m in love with you. I cried myself to sleep every night because I thought you hated me and that I had lost you for good,”

Peter walked towards you and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“You could never lose me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Don’t make promised you can’t keep, Parker,”

“Darling, I’m in love with you too, I’m not going anywhere,”

You could feel tears in your eyes, and the back of your throat felt thick (thicc). You were so mad at yourself for not telling Peter sooner.

Peter leaned in and placed a light kiss on your lips. Pulling away only for a moment before you leaned back in to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around Peter, he puled your closer to him, and moved his lips from yours, engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you telling me, I could have saved myself so many sleepless nights over you if I had only told you sooner?”

“I guess I could have saved myself some sleepless nights because of you too if I had only had the guts to tell you how I felt,”

“Do you have to go home or can you stay?” You asked.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said, bringing you in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing that Peter found those letters.


Tag List: @tronnoristheotp, @isabellyduh, @spiderrparkerr, @lots-of-liz, @darlin-you-bitch, @a-smol-badger (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, please let me know in an ask or private message if you would like to be included in my tag list

dollfaces99  asked:

Hi - was just wondering what would happen if Andrew got drugged at Edens one night??? Like maybe Roland gives them the clean drinks then goes away and Neil is busy clearing the crowd and Andrew is completely distracted by him for a miniscule second and someone drugs his drink either on purpose or by accident meaning it for someone else???? Not sure how it'd happen but... What would happen to the poor baby??? Would he go manic again???? PLEASE MY HEART I'M SORRY

So, obviously, the monsters go to Roland for their drinks. And, obviously, Roland doesn’t roofie Andrew. But while Andrew is pushing through the crowd and distracted by Neil or when Roland is turned around getting another drink and Andrew is watching him and not the tray someone slips something into one of the drinks. And Andrew is the unlucky one that drinks it, but also Andrew would probably want it that way over one of the others getting roofied.

Andrew doesn’t realize what is wrong at first. His head hurts, but the music is loud and Kevin hasn’t stopped talking since Aaron and Nicky left. Andrew is getting so tired, but it’s late and Kevin’s talking is tiring him out and they did have that stupid game that Neil made him work his ass off in last night and he did drive them here instead of napping in the back of the car. Andrew kind of feels like he’s going to throw up. He’s not even drunk. He shouldn’t be worrying about throwing up. He’s felt fine all day and he hasn’t drunk any more than usual. He stands up because oh shit if he’s going to throw up he’s not going to do it on the floor. But he’s dizzy and tired and something is off with his vision and he sits back down. He’s drunk. Except he knows his tolerance and he didn’t drink past it. He knows what drunk feels like and this is wrong. This isn’t it. Andrew is panicked and confused and tired and his head fucking hurts so much he might puke yet, but he looks at Kevin and Neil. Kevin stopped talking now. They’re both staring at him. He can’t tell if they’re okay or if there was something in their drinks too because his brain isn’t working right and fuck how is he supposed to look after them?

Neil asks Andrew “Are you okay?” And Andrew’s voice sounds weird to his own ears as he asks “Where’s Aaron? …Where’s Nicky?” Neil is worried about Andrew because there is definitely something wrong with Andrew right now and Neil knows Andrew knows his limits and Neil knows Andrew doesn’t cross them and he saw that Andrew didn’t have more drinks than usual but something is wrong and just like at Luthor’s he’s more worried about Aaron than about himself which is a sign that whatever it is is bad. There’s no way Neil is leaving Andrew like this so, without taking his eyes off of Andrew to look at Kevin, Neil tells him “Go get them.”

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anonymous asked:

Alex roughly eating louis that I'm all I'm sayin . Just a thought . I dunno . I haven't seen Dunkirk yet I'm gonna of spoilers

@celebratinglouis u send me the nastiest shit but also thank u. 

this is just…it’s porn. it’s angst and porn and feminization kink and poor coping mechanisms. also it’s written in like three different tenses. listen, I’m sorry. I hope you like it anyways, bc this is a concept I could write…more of. Also a few Dunkirk spoilers! 

————-

The train spewed steam, hot and compressed, behind him, and Alex still found the ability to push forward.

He hurt, and he couldn’t even identify where. His ears were ringing, and he’s only now noticing it. He thought his neck and his head might hurt, but then again, his wrist and his ankle might, too. It’s just everywhere. His eyes stung even though he was just asleep, his mouth tasted like warm beer and warmer water.

He blinked, and brought his hand up to his eyes, his other hand tightening on the strap of his pack. There’s no sunlight in the station, but he still feels like he should lift his hand, get a better view.

He’s standing there on the platform, three dimensions, full color. He’s wearing nearly the exact same thing he wore to the station the first time, the grey trousers and the brown braces and the big, open pale blue jumper that’s gotten paler, bordering on grey.

He’s the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen. He’s the only beautiful thing he’s seen in a while.

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I'm a Freak (Connor Murphy x Reader)

Connor Murphy x Reader


TW: swearing, yelling, Connor saying he doesn’t deserve to live, unedited and short. :(

(a/n; first published fic ever!! I hope y'all like it! Its unedited and horrible, but let me know if you would like more in the future!)

656 words (I think)

Connor tossed in his bed, grumbling and angrily yanking the sheets off of himself. He sat up and sighed, running his hands through his hair. The only thing he could hear was the giggling and whispers coming from his sisters room late at night. Connor shot up from his bed and stormed into the hallway, slamming his door open. He pounded on Zoe’s door angrily.

“Shut the fuck up, you guys! Seriously! I’m trying to sleep!” Connor shouted, twisting the door handle and trying to come in.

“Go away, Connor! We’re having fun!” Zoe shouted and giggled. Connor furrowed his eyebrows as he heard more than just y/n’s voice in Zoe’s room.

Connor slammed himself against the door until it burst open. Connor was panting slightly and red in the face with anger. His anger got worse as he noticed Evan Hansen sitting next to Zoe.

“What the fuck, Zoe!?! Mom and dad said y/n Hansen could come over, not her fucking brother!” Connor fumed, not noticing the scared look on Evan’s face. You weren’t startled since you had helped with Connors bipolar disorder before.

“You, you are SO lucky mom and dad went out for the night.” Connor turned around and slammed the door before anybody could say anything.

“I-I’m sorry, Zoe, I should-should go..” Evan turned red and started to shuffle until Zoe took hold of his hands and looked him in the eye. She was whispering comforting words until you got uncomfortable.

You shuffled out of the room while the lovers were making eye contact and sweet talk. You sighed, shuffling slowly downstairs into the kitchen in only a tank top and short shorts.

Connor was pacing the kitchen when you got down there, still frustrated and trying to cool down.

“Connor?” You called out, a sad smile on your face. You stepped forward and placed an arm on his bicep.

“I’m sorry.” Connors voice broke as he dove into your arms, tears welling up in his already red eyes.
“I can’t control my anger, I’m just a freak who doesnt deserve to live.”

You held Connor and ran your fingers through his slightly messy hair.

“Connor, please, come with me to get help.” You begged, trying to convince him to talk to someone with you for the hundredth time that year.

Nobody could convince Connor to do things like you could, he was head over heels for you. He never told you, but he had ways of showing it.

“Okay,” Connor broke, trembling in your arms. “Okay.”

Nobody had known you two were together for a fact, but many people guessed you were. People made fun of you for hanging around Connor Murphy, so Connor made you promise not to tell anyone you were dating. He didn’t want anyone to pick more fun at you.

Little did you both know, Evan and Zoe were standing at the top of the stairs, watching you two.

You rocked Connor back and forth as he sniffled into your neck. He was leaning on you with his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He was shirtless and in black shorts, what he normally slept in.

“I love you,” Connor began, using the L-word for the first time ever. “I love you so much, y/n.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled him closer. “I love you too, Connor. You mean the world to me.”

Connor looked up and pressed his forehead against yours, connecting your lips for a few seconds and still swaying back and forth.

“Wow..” Evan whispered to Zoe. “So, y/n and Connor, huh?

Zoe nodded with a small smile. “She’s good for him.”

bungledramblingsofalesbianmind  asked:

Supercorp prompt! I've always had this headcanon that if anyone asked Kara to name her favorite physical feature about herself, she would say the tiny scar on her eyebrow b/c it happened to her as a child on Krypton and it's a lasting physical reminder of the life/planet/family she used to have. She gets to look in the mirror every day and see it. I'd love to read (if you're interested in writing it!) you take on that convo with Lena...

Kara is not mysterious.

She’s not, though she makes a valiant attempt at it. She’s secretive and brilliant and more than talented at putting on an act, but she’s not mysterious. While there are dozens of things that don’t make sense about her, she has a refreshing habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, consequences be damned, and even if Lena doesn’t understand what Kara does, she certainly can follow why.

Which is why the eyebrow thing is so…confusing.

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The Teacher Effect

It’s embarrassing enough to be the outcast at school. But it’s even worse when you call your usually strict chemistry teacher mom.

~~~~~

As usual, Virgil was sitting in the back of the class. The teen was torn between attempting to stay awake and listen to what Mr. Sanders was explaining, and just give up and fall asleep. His foster home had gotten two new little kids and as one of the oldest in the home Virgil has been appointed babysitter of them both.

Now, while Patton was definitely a happy and easily excitable four year old- and yeah, kinda loud- he was fairly easy to handle. But Roman- ugh. Virgil hated, absolutely hated having to babysit the kid. The seven year old was always wanting to play and what did he always want to play? Princes. The kid was more than a handful, and sent Virgil’s poor heart pounding like a kick drum with how often he gets onto dangerously high surfaces-not to mention the knife incident two days ago.

With how busy the foster parents, Joan and Talyn, were with the other kids and how much energy Patton and Roman had Virgil’s sleep schedule has been more than a little disturbed. But Virgil doesn’t hold it against them, Joan and Talyn are pretty awesome foster parents and they try really hard to make sure the kids are all doing well.

But none of this helps Virgil feel any less sleep deprived than he is, so when his eyelids slide shut and his head finally drops completely onto his crossed arms it isn’t a surprise that he gives in to his body’s need for rest.

The bell rings approximately ten minutes later, signaling the end of the last class of the day. Students gather their books and chatter rises as the class trickles out the door, all except for one sleeping Virgil Ayntiex.

The sight surprised Logan, the man has had students fall asleep in his class before, however he has never had a problem with Virgil sleeping in his class before. He had noticed the teen’s apparent lack of sleep growing throughout the week and had been meaning to speak with his foster parents but had been busy with his son Thomas.

Seeing an opportunity, Logan stood from his desk and went to the back of his class to stand beside his sleeping student. Logan rested a gentle hand on his back, a small frown on his face. “Virgil, I’m afraid it’s time for you to wake up. School is no longer in session, it is time for you to go home.”

Virgil stirred slightly, a slight whine escaping the teen. “Nnh, Mom, don’ w'nna get up. ’M t'red.” he mumbled in response. This put an amused smile on Logan’s face. “As I have gathered, but I’m afraid I must insist you don’t go back to sleep just yet. And it’s Mr. Sanders, Virgil. If you don’t get up you may miss your bus.” This caught the teen’s attention and Virgil jerked up in his desk, face flushing red from embarrassment as he remembered his surroundings.

“M-Mr. Sanders! Oh gosh, I fell asleep in your class, I’m so sorry. Oh god- I just called you mom. I can’t believe I did that-I’m so sorry-” “Virgil, it’s okay. I’ve had students fall asleep in my class before. And as for you calling me mom, well, while I must say that it is a first but I’ve been called worse things before so I can’t say I am offended.” Virgil’s blush darkened slightly but he did feel slightly better at the reassurance. “However, I do hope that you will take better care of yourself and try to get more sleep. I’d prefer this not become a regular occurrence for you- I’d hate to see you fail my class due to an improper sleeping schedule.”

Virgil nodded, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. “Heh, ah, yeah. I’ll definitely try, Mr. Sanders, but I can’t really make any promises for that. Two new foster kids, they’re pretty young and full of more energy than I can handle really. But uh, yeah no I’ll uh- I’ll try I guess.” Virgil stood up, grabbing his backpack from the back of his chair and headed for the door.

“Ah, well I wish you the best of luck Virgil. And don’t forget we’re working in the lab Monday, I expect you to be better rested than you were today.” Virgil nodded. “Yeah, okay. Bye Mr. Sanders. Have a good weekend.”

~~~~~

Bonus: One Year Later

Logan looked through his mail and paused as he caught sight of one that appeared to have a card inside, his name written neatly on the front in cursive. Intrigued, he opened the envelope and was perplexed when he pulled out a mother’s day card. Curiosity growing he opened the card, amusement and warmth bubbling in his chest as he read what had been written.

Dear Mr. Sanders,

Thank you for always offering support when I needed it most. Patton and Roman say “Hi.” I’m glad you’re still my teacher because Miss Thompson is crazy. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. - Virgil

~~~~~

@not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @a-valorous-choice ta-daa~ So this is based off of the Virgil calling Logan mom by accident prompt that I’ve been meaning to type up for ages now but here it is, finally. I hope you all enjoy it! I think I may do more for this, just little things for how Virgil handles Lil Patton & Roman(the scoundrel) or maybe even Dad!Logan taking care of his son Thomas. (I just thought it fit very well and I can see Joan and Talyn foster parenting the sides they seem like they could do it I believe in them hahah)

Little Brother

Shiro stared at the door in front of him. He had never wanted to be a leader. To be the one responsible not only for leading his team but making sure they got home.
He was about to knock when the door swung open and a smiling man in his mid twenties walked out. He stopped for a moment looking at him, his eyes widening in realisation.
“Your Shiro.”
Shiro nodded “yeah… how did you know?”
“My little brother always gushed about how amazing you were… how you got lost on a mission.” His expression turned sad tears forming at his eyes. “S-sorry… my brother.. Lance he disappeared a few years ago.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
The man looked up in surprise. “What?”
“The day he disappeared he went into space and became part of a team that saved the universe.”
The mans mouth fell open, looking conflicted about whether to believe him or not.
“Jake what’s going on?” A woman asked joining him.
She looked so much like Lance Shiro had to do a double take to be sure it really wasn’t him in a wig.
“Fiona…He knows about Lance” Jake mumbled.
The two stared at Shiro, their expressions begging for answers.
Shiro sighed looking down as he produced a picture from his pocket and handed it over.
It showed the whole team, smiling with Lance holding up two fingers behind Keith’s head and one arm round Hunks shoulders.
“T-that’s him…” Fiona ran a finger across her little brothers face.
“What happened to him?” Jake asked.
“Why don’t you ask me yourself?”
Shiro turned round to see Lance wheeling over.
During their last mission they had defeated Lotor and the last of the Galra resistance but it had cost Lance his legs and eye.
The entire of the right side of his face was badly burned and was still wrapped in bandages.
However his siblings didn’t care.
“Lance!”
They screamed running over to them hugging him close.
“Oh my presides baby brother your alive!” Fiona sobbed running her fingers through what was left of his hair.
“We thought you were dead. All this time we though you were dead and the last thing I called you was a brat.” Jake was trying to hold back the tears, but soon as Lance smiled at him the flood gates opened.
“Well your not wrong. I’m a brat, she’s a bitch and your a bastard.”
The three siblings laughed hugging each other.
They didn’t ask about his injuries, they didn’t care.
They had their little brother back and for now that was all that mattered.
Shiro smiled as he slowly returned to the castle.
He was glad he could return Lance to his family. But it did little to disperse the guilt from how much Lance had to lose just so he could see them again.
That he would never walk again.
That the face he had been so proud of was now scarred.
That Shiro had made the call that caused Lance to be trapped in that explosion in the first place.
Shiro had never wanted to be the leader. Because even when they won to him it felt like the price had been too hard.

anonymous asked:

HAVE U SEEN THE NEW BNHA CHAPTER WITH KIRI?? ITS LIKE HE WENT SUPER SAN!!

Anon said: I think all the ot3 shippers are going to love this chapter. Also. Resident phone charger spotted

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OKAY I’M SORRY BUT HOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER WAS A BLESSING AND I’LL NEVER STOP YELLING ABOUT IT AND THESE ARE JUST A FEW OF THE REASONS WHY

  • Kirishima’s unbreakable form is THE COOLEST thing I’ve ever seen I wanna draw it???? help
  • Like seriously I’m s h a k i n g he’s SO COOL talk about being flashy HOLY HELL
  • By the way did he add the sleeves to his costume just so they could rip when he used this form I need to know for science
  • He actually got an issue with the villain acting like a villain BECAUSE HE DIDN’T STICK AROUND TO HELP ALL THE WAY THROUGH Kirishima your priorities are fucked I love you
  • Did I mention how damn pretty he is in this chapter because I’m weak
  • He’s!!!! The most hero character in the whole manga??? Tries to comfort the villain when he starts crying, helps him get up and actually asks him if he’s okay, tries to symphatize with him and the first thing he thinks about when he sees the upgrade is I can’t let this reach the main road like RIP ME
  • THE SCENE AT THE DORMS A+ EVERYTHING I WANNA FRAME EVERY PAGE OF THAT
  • All the squad boys just chilling together like I will never need anything more in my life to be happy
  • DENKI CHARGING THE SQUAD’S PHONES ISN’T AN HEADCANON ANYMORE GOD BLESS
  • Baku and Kami are once again sitting next to each other and that’s a recurring trend that makes my heart sing
  • Tokoyami was WITH THEM try and pry him away from the squad in my head now he’s part of it and I’m not letting him go I’ve been waiting for this to happen since I got into this manga
  • Kiri!!!!! feeling comfortable enough to share his doubts with his friends!!!!!! Like rip me!!!!!!!! Holy fuckkkk!!!!!
  • BAKUGOU COMFORTING HIM THANK YOU HORIKOSHI ALWAYS COMING THROUGH FOR MY WISHES
  • THIS PANEL


  • I LOVE this panel let me tell you WHY I love this panel 
  • Bakugou can’t even understand what Kirishima’s talking about right here and that’s because when Kirishima said “I will be a horse that won’t crumple” Bakugou saw it as Kirishima’s whole point as a hero 
  • he won’t bend, he won’t fall, he won’t break till the very end that’s what heroes are for Bakugou, that’s what he admires the most in All Might and that’s why he was so ready to accept Kirishima as an equal
  • the possibility of Kirishima not seeing his quirk as worthy just does not compute in Bakugou’s head
  • “Keeping up? Why would you be unable to keep up? You said you won’t break, didn’t you? What else do you need to be the strongest?”
  • and then he proceeds with cOMPARING HIM TO ALL MIGHT
  • MORE LIKE FUCKING
  • RIP ME
  • IN GODDAMN PIECES
  • i won’t be able to think about anything else for the rest of my always i’ve read this chapter dozens of times already life really is beautiful
Long night | Shawn Mendes

Word count: 995

Warning: None (unless you’re not feeling particularly angsty and fluffy today)

Author’s note: Here’s an angsty + fluffy Shawn piece no one asked for. Inspired by the song Long Night by With Confidence and Shawn looking fine AF at the airport recently (How dare he, right?!)

One week. It isn’t the longest you’ve been away from each other but it might as well have been with how you left things. To be honest, you weren’t sure if there were things to still come back to. There were tears, screams, and slammed doors. You don’t even remember what the fight was about now. You were tired, Shawn was exhausted.

You both said hurtful things you didn’t mean. But they didn’t hurt you really. You were together long enough to know he didn’t mean them. But what killed you was the radio silence. To be fair, you didn’t attempt to reach out, too. You were afraid to say more things you didn’t mean or hear him speak some truth you weren’t ready to accept—like saying he couldn’t do this anymore with you. You were trying to postpone a breakup that may or may not have happened already.

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a one shot where wolfstar are locked in a cupboard and end up really awkwardly admitting their feelings? (Lily and James may or may not have locked them in)

“Argh!”
“Stop yelling in my ear.”
“Move your –”
“Ow!”
“Fuck Moony, get off my lap.”
Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were in a Compromising Position. An Awkward, Close Quarters Position that neither intended to get into. One that their friends – ex friends as Sirius had eloquently screamed at them through the tiny cupboard door – got them into.
The two boys had casually been walking down the abandoned corridor on their way to Charms together like any ordinary day. Sirius had been explaining his new prank that involved a box of pixies and Bellatrix Black’s bed when the next thing they knew, they were shoved from behind into the cupboard and locked in by two pairs of hands.
“We won’t unlock this cupboard until you’ve figured your shit out,” was what Lily and James had told them on the other side of the door. Their protests and curses went unheard by the smug couple.
And now they were a tangled mess of twisted legs and clumsy hands and frustrated groans. Grappling each other to try to get out.
“Why is your face so bloody hot?” Remus felt a hand cup his cheek.
“Erm, because there’s too much body heat in such a concentrated space.”
That was a lie. And Remus knew it. He was blushing like a schoolgirl for the sole reason that he had been in Sirius’s lap mere seconds ago.
Sirius Black’s lips are two inches from mine.
Another wave of heat filled his face and he squeezed his eyes shut. Have some self control, Remus.
“So, er… figure our shit together, eh?”
Remus mentally face palmed himself. He was so lame.
Sirius shifted slightly until they were leaning against opposite walls, legs pressed against each other. The temperature seemed to rise by a few degrees. In the dark, Remus could make out only his glimmering eyes and wicked smile. He twiddled his thumbs as they sat there quietly, unsure of what to do next.
“What do you suppose they mean by –”
“We’re sick of dealing with the sexual tension between you two. Stop being stubborn bastards!” James yelled from outside. Lily hushed him, and she slapped his chest hard. Remus could practically hear James pout. And he continued anyway. “It means you bloody idiots are in love!”
Sirius’s grin disappeared and they both stopped breathing. Remus’s heart pounded loudly until it was the only audible sound in the small space. His mind was racing, question after question piling up.
How does James know?
When did he find out?
Did Sirius know?
…Sirius is in love with me?

He must have muttered the last one to himself aloud because Sirius was softly saying, “Yes.”
His head snapped up to meet those midnight eyes. Any amusement before was gone and all that remained was tenderness.
“Remus John Lupin,” he began tentatively, “I have been in love with you ever since you gave me that bit of chocolate after I broke my arm in that duel with Snape fourth year. I have wanted to tell you ever since the morning after that one full moon on your birthday. I have wanted to kiss you ever since you slow danced with me at the Yule Ball. I love you, everything about you.”
Word after word, Remus’s walls crumbled until all that was left was his heart that beat solely for Sirius. Words that he had been waiting for ever since first year. Words that wrapped around him and squeezed tight. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He bit his lip, staring at this boy who had been his friend for seven years. The same boy who came into his bed after every full moon, the one who wore eyeliner and leather jackets, the one who shamelessly flirted with him constantly. The boy that loved him.
Before he could take a second to contemplate it, Remus closed the space between them and cupped Sirius’s flushed cheeks in his hands. He smoothed his thumb over his rough jaw, savoring the feel of his skin under his finger.
“My universe,” he breathed, before crushing his lips into Sirius’s.
They kissed and kissed and kissed in that cupboard to the hoots and hollers of their friends, never once breaking apart from each other.
Remus smiled into Sirius’s lips.
“I love you too.”

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

Used to This - Part II

Overview: You’ve lived with the Winchesters for years as a fellow hunter, and everyone has always stayed well in the friend zone. What happens when nightmares come haunting and Dean offers to help? Will things change, or is it all in your head?

Characters: Dean, Reader, with special guest appearance by Sam

Word Count: 2,524

Warnings: Nightmares, crap motel blankets, cold feet, language, and FLUFF

A/N: I thought the first part of this was just gonna be a drabble. Then it turned into a oneshot. Now it’s turned into a mini series. Oops. Blessings bestowed up on @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie for fixing my letter errors and giving me all the encouragement. And Lee is the whole reason this second part even exists, so thanks to her for demanding more.

Read: (Part 1)

Cold. I noticed it in my toes first, a sharp sensation that had my feet stretching down in desperate search of my quilt. Chill bumps prickled my legs and quickly traveled up my spine and down my arms. An involuntary shudder briefly shook my shoulders. Where are my damn covers?

A sensation of blissful warmth tickled my memory, and in one quick flash it all came back to me. My eyes snapped open, my chills long forgotten as I blinked and waited for my pupils to dilate. The cold had already answered my inquiry, but my adjusted eyes confirmed it; Dean was gone.

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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

5 | Red Skies

BTS WEREWOLF AU
WORD COUNT: 2,921 

WARNINGS: SWEARING, VIOLENCE, MENTAL HEALTH DETERIORATION

Originally posted by dangerously-jamless

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Birds chirping in perfect harmony outside the window woke you from your slumber, the first good nights rest you’d had in days. Sitting up in bed you smiled to yourself brightly at your surroundings. The bedroom was duck egg blue, adorned with white frills and embellishments, it was cute, positive and had character. Nancy had sorted some clothes for you, rummaging through the back you found a black turtleneck jumper in your size, with the tags still on, and a pair of black skinny jeans. After showering you tied your damp hair up into a high ponytail and got dressed. Feeling strangely optimistic you headed downstairs to find Jimin on the sofa.

He sat with his back to you as he looked out of the window, silently enjoying the wonderful view.
“I noticed there’s some stuff in the fridge so, eggs or bacon?” You asked Jimin as you walked past him and into the small cottage like kitchen.

“I’m super hungry, can’t we have both?” He called out after you, earning a small sincere smile to dance across your lips.

“Sure.” You chuckled as you got everything you needed out of the fridge and started to make breakfast.

Once the food was cooked, Jimin set the table and poured you both a glass of orange juice, sitting down at the table in front of the large bay window. The view from the table was beautiful, there was a small green park that overlooked a little pond complete with ducks and fishes. Happy children played amongst each other as their parents kept an eye on them from the side benches. Remembering the houses former owner your heart weighed heavy in your chest, Namjoon probably decided on the area because of the park and pond, if he and his mate were considering starting a family.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked as he wolfed down enough bacon sandwiches to feed a large family.

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