i've never gotten anything like this before so i hope this works!

anonymous asked:

Hi! Uh, I know you got a lot of awful anons, and I really don't want to be one of those people, but I have a question that's been really worrying me. So ever since I started paying attention to Tumblr SJ, I think I've actually gotten less tolerant. Whenever I see people with a different background, I keep thinking about all their privileges and oppressions and how we can never relate to each other because we obviously see the world differently. [cont]

I just get so worried that I’m hurting people who are black and gay and Muslim and stuff when I’m around them. So I just kind of… Avoid them? I know. It’s really terrible. But I just don’t know what to do. I could be hurting them in ways that wouldn’t even occur to me due to my privilege. So I’m just scared all the time that I’m awful. I know that I have no reason to be scared, because my pain is nothing compared to the pain of people who are actually marginalized, but it still happens. [cont]

Of course I never tried to talk about it with someone before because I don’t want to be the type of person who goes up to black people who are actually hurting and asks them to reassure her that she’s a good ally. That would be really crappy of me to do. But then I’ve been reading you’re blog and you are super duper marginalized but you seem to not be very into SJ? You have a really different perspective and you seem to invite people to not be perfectly PC with you. [cont]

So I was wondering: Do you think there’s a way to become more comfortable around marginalized people without being oppressive? I think it must be possible. I feel less scared talking to you than I would expect for someone as marginalized as you are but it might be that I think you’re less likely to call me out if I’m oppressive? It would be really bad if that’s the reason why. IDK any more. I’m rambling. I’m sorry and I understand if you don’t answer or don’t understand or can’t help. [fin]

Firstly, you probably need a hug.

Your description of being really scared that you’re going to accidentally hurt marginalised people sounds like it might be scrupulosity-related. Scrupulosity is an anxiety problem where you’re constantly worried that you’ve done something wrong. Even if you have no particular reason to believe you have, you worry and worry and worry that maybe you missed something, maybe there’s more to it, maybe there are rules you don’t know yet, maybe the rules are insufficiently precise, etc.

Scrupulosity isn’t good for you. Being anxious all the time isn’t good for you. It also isn’t good for social justice. You said it yourself: It makes it harder for you to be an ally. For all these reasons, I would like to give you unconditional permission to not worry. Stress and guilt and pain don’t make you a better person. If you haven’t been trying to deal the scrupulosity directly because you thought you needed it to be moral, I hope you now understand that that’s not the case. I hope this will give you the support you need to make your happiness a priority here. If so, here are some good tips.

wrt becoming more comfortable around marginalised people, I’m not entirely sure what you can do. The best possible thing here would be for you to spend a lot of time around marginalised people who don’t mind if you slip up in good faith. I don’t actually believe you’re at much risk of a hurtful slip up, but you clearly feel like you are. As such, you would probably feel safest around people who you can be confident won’t be worried by it.

Over time, after you’ve been around them long enough, you’ll probably start feeling like they’re just like everyone else. You won’t see oppression lists floating over people’s heads when you try interacting with them. Instead of “Ahmed, the gay Muslim immigrant” you’ll see “Ahmed, the guy who likes slow jazz and makes excellent brownies”. Over time, I would expect this to generalise, until marginalised people just seem like people. I would be happy to be one such safe person to practice with, to whatever extent this can be achieved via the internet.

However, I understand if you’re hesitant to ask people outright if they can be wont-be-offended practice partners. Sorry. I’m not sure what other methods there are for dealing with this, other than gentle, gradual exposure. At the very least, I can offer some reassurance:

You aren’t a bad person for not being able to follow every rule of social justice. You aren’t a bad person if you accidentally offend someone. You aren’t a bad person if you’re scared to be around marginalised people. You are way less likely to slip up and hurt someone than you think you are. Anxiety disorders lie to you. You are a decent person who is being fed a bunch of rotten propaganda by your brain. What’s important is that it isn’t true.

But maybe those reassurances didn’t make you any more comfortable around marginalised people. Maybe the soft landing approach didn’t work for you, or you can’t actually try it. That’s OK. If interacting with marginalised people is making you stressed out and unhappy, then don’t do it. You have every right to avoid people who make you miserable, to the extent that you are capable of doing so.

No, it doesn’t mean marginalised people are bad or are doing anything wrong. No, it doesn’t mean you’re bad or you’re doing anything wrong. Sometimes people just can’t be around each other, and it’s no one’s fault, and that’s OK. You may feel like it’s *ist or *phobic of you to do this, but that doesn’t matter. You need your space. You need your comfort zone. No one - not a single person in the world - has a right to make you miserable. You always have a right to distance yourself from anything or anyone that’s hurting you. The sacredness of your boundaries, and everyone else’s, is the hill that I die on.

So, as the Empress of Oppression, I hereby absolve you of any and all responsibility to interact with me or anyone else who might make you uncomfortable. Go forth with joy and peace of mind.

tea time for @winglysimmer. prompt: sex scene

this was levi’s first big role. it’d been years of headshots and failed agents until he finally got a low billed part in the most recent bond movie. he tried not to get excited–it wasn’t really his style to have any kind of enthusiasm in this industry. anything could be pulled out from under you at any moment, and even when you made it big, you could still fall hard.

but erwin smith. he was actually going to be working alongside erwin fucking smith. names didn’t light up in gold quite as much as his name. shine just as bright as the yellow of his perfectly styled hair. send women and men quivering and broken as much as he does. levi had his fair share of entertainment weekly magazines, full cover photos of half clothed and oiled smith shoved away in his nightstand drawer. he’d come enough times, whimpering into his wrist, thinking of big tanned hands locked into the grooves of his hips. a fantasy so much like a dream sometimes, that he’d sworn they could have been real.

he hesitated to call it an obsession. that would imply he had a problem. jerking off to celebrities wasn’t something you particularly talked about, but they were sex symbols and was of course a thing that happened. but he found himself following paparazzi twitters, following locations to see if he could come across smith in the open. see if he was as godlike as he was in the papers.

and now that he was sitting on set, clad in villainous attire of slicked back hair and a well tailored suit, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of erwin smith. couldn’t control his heartbeating so heavily through his neck that he tried to sedate it with a clench of his jaw.

smith’s bare ass, flexing with each thrust, the pits the muscles hollowing and catching the shadows of the hushed lighting. the shape of his muscles curving around bone, golden skin coated in a sheen of sweat. he made soft noises as he ground against the leading female, her dark brunette hair cascading to the pillow between his fingers as he held her head up to kiss him. the room was quiet except for the pantomiming of fake romance. 

and damn if levi shouldn’t have gotten an oscar for his spectacular ability to keep a straight face and a soft cock.

the director cuts the scene and erwin pulled away from the actress. unashamed, he padded off the set, his soft dick tucked away in a cock sock. he ran a hand through his hair to replace any stray strands as an assistant ran up to him to cover him in a robe and hand him a glass of water.

levi tried not to be star struck. tried to avert his gaze from this sex god he’d been following for his entire shitty career. this man that he couldn’t even believe he was sharing the same screen with for a whole entire minute. but he kept looking, and smith must have felt those grey eyes on him. they meet, grey and blue, and locked for what felt like ages, until smith started to walk toward him, glass of water empty and handed back to the assistant. and levi tried hard to find the next closest stage assistant to hide behind, his heart still pounding in his throat and up to his ears until his head felt like it was going to pop.

“hello.” smith said. he smelled like coconuts and cologne, and for some reason it worked really well for him.

levi didn’t look at him, ground his teeth until he finally could muster the words to respond. “hey.”

“i saw what you did earlier today. it was good stuff.”

“must have been thinking about ‘unnamed grunt A’. i’m ‘B’.”

smith laughed, and the smile that lingered was handsomely beautiful. “ah yes, i suppose i was mistaken.” he tilted his head and leaned forward. “but i think i’ve seen you before.”

levi shrunk away, still averting his eyes. “doubt it.”

“no… no… it was at ‘gilly’s’ wasn’t it.” smith smiled wider. “you know how to dance.”

levi’s eyes went wide. he focused them on the golden embroidered name on smith’s robe as he struggled with the words. gilly’s was his go to place–a west hollywood gay club that pampered to the super rich. he was not rich, but he was the kind of man that had other ways of getting through the bouncers. “i have no…”

“no. some people just dance through their booze. you dance through the music.” smith leaned back, his smile still etched on his face.

levi couldn’t hold the blush anymore. he shrunk away, his fingers curled up and played with the hem of his suit jacket. what was smith doing at a gay club? how had the paparazzi not gobbled that shit up? “like you’d be caught dead at gilly’s.” he croaked. 

“you helped my friend when they were pushed around by a drunk. i wanted to thank you at the time.”

“o-oh.” yep, that was him.

“i am glad that we’re able to meet like this. it was a pleasant surprise.”

“s-sure.” levi was losing it. every second his mask was cracking.

“what’s your name?”


“you can call me erwin.” he extended his hand, and levi took it. held it in his small one and tried not to imagine how much he had jacked off to the very thought of this, with the very hand he had offered to the man.


“erwin! get back on set. we gotta shoot that all again.”

erwin smiled. he removed his robe and stood completely naked besides his little cloth of modesty. levi’s nose flared. “it was nice meeting you.”

levi groaned, swallowed thickly, and nodded. “yeah.”

anonymous asked:

Skimmons prompt: Jemma comes back from the Monolith with powers and Skye/Daisy helps her adjust to this new life and they start to form a closer bond and it all eventually leads to their first kiss. So from friends to girlfriends. :D

Deep Into the Mountain Sound 

~12,000 words

A/N: um :’) this got really extensive i’m sorry. i’m sure yall are sick of me talking about it but here it is!! my epic gay mountain ladies with powers fic 

So, she’d run.

Jemma had been doing a lot of running lately. (On the planet, it had been a necessity. You sleep, and when you’re not sleeping, you run. You run, or you get too comfortable. You run, or you get negligent. You run, or the monsters catch up. You run, or you die. So, she’d done it anyway, but it hadn’t exactly been her idea—the running. And it wasn’t this time, either.)

Dr. Garner had suggested the ‘getaway’, as he called it. After living in isolation for so long, the crowded base, with all its noise, and hovering (well-meaning, she corrects herself) people, was too overwhelming for her. She’d tried, she’d given it an honest shot. But it wasn’t the right environment for her, not anymore. He thought that it would be easier for her body, and her mind, to acclimate back to this world if she could do so somewhere secluded, where there weren’t too many people, too many distractions. Slowly, she’d immerse herself back in the world, in her own time. So Coulson, only somewhat grudgingly, had offered up a cabin, a SHIELD safe-house, for her to use ‘until she was ready to come back home’.

(The team hadn’t been happy. Least of all Fitz, who’d rallied to go with her, having just gotten her back and not wanting to let her out of his sight just yet. If Coulson wouldn’t let him go, he’d said, he’d quit, and go anyway.

It was only a (very) firm word from Dr. Garner that made him stay. He wasn’t what she needed right now, Dr. Garner told him. She needed someone who could give her space, who wasn’t expecting anything from her. Most importantly, someone who she wouldn’t feel the need to perform for.

Fitz reluctantly agreed that he didn’t fit the bill. That he, just this once, wasn’t what she needed. She’d put too much pressure on herself, in his presence. If anyone could understand that, it was him. So he’d stayed behind, on the promise that she would call him whenever she had the urge, and that he could visit, if she wanted him.

But she shouldn’t be alone, Dr. Garner said.

So Skye had volunteered to go with her. At least for the first little while, to get her settled, to keep track of how she was adjusting and send updates to Dr. Garner. She might have to leave to go on missions, that was part of the agreement, but she’d be living in the cabin with Jemma for the foreseeable future.)


Jemma glances over at her in the driver’s seat, watching her tap her fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song that’s playing quietly over the radio, and then looks back to her window before Skye has the chance to notice. The trees, lush and green in the spring warmth, roar past them. Skye is maybe driving a little too fast, but it’s not like they’ll come across any other cars. They’re far up in the mountains, and the cabin they’re making their way to is the only one around for miles. Besides that, it’s just forest, which hugs the sides of the road, only allowing the sun to grace the asphalt in wavering patches.

They hadn’t been informed exactly where they are, but judging from the flora, and the climate, and how long the flight had been, Jemma guesses somewhere in the Great Smoky Mountains. North Carolina, maybe, or Tennessee. She’d feel better if she knew exactly where they were (she’d spent long enough having no idea where she was, and she didn’t care for it), but it had been classified. It’s whatever, she’ll probably figure it out soon enough. If only she had access to a geography book, maybe a guide to the local fauna.

(Dr. Garner had told her to focus on herself, not distractions. Focus on how she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. Mindfulness, he’d called it. But she just—she can’t. She can’t stand living in her own head all the time. All she’d had on that planet was herself, and truth be told, she’d gotten sick of the company.)

Skye yawns, and Jemma risks another glance. Something gnaws at her gut: guilt. She knows it intimately, a closer friend to her than anything else has been over the years.

Had Skye only come because she felt guilty? Jemma knows that she, along with most of the team, had given up hope of ever getting Jemma back. They’d stopped trying to find her. (Jemma doesn’t blame them, it had been a long time. She might’ve done the same, if she’d been in their position.) Was that why Skye came? Trying to make up for something.

Dr. Garner told her it’s okay to be a burden, sometimes. It’s okay to let other people help carry her weight, if she can’t carry it herself.

(Jemma doesn’t believe that.)

She doesn’t want Skye to have to carry it for her, any of it. Skye isn’t her pack mule. She’s a friend. A friend who is probably only here because of her own guilt, her own emotional baggage. God, Jemma’s just going to make it worse, probably. Skye is here out of obligation (what if Dr. Garner had talked her into it? What if she hadn’t wanted to come at all?) and now she’s going to have to deal with all of Jemma’s triggers and her trauma responses and the emotional sack of shit that she’s turned into lately. Skye shouldn’t have to handle all that. It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

Fuck. Jemma’s horrible, isn’t she, for agreeing to Skye coming along. For letting her do this, for letting anyone come along at all. She should’ve come alone, dealt with this alone. No one should be forced to stand her right now, when she can barely stand herself.

Tears prick in the back of her eyes. Her throat is tightening closed. Skye can’t notice, though, she can’t, or she’ll just be concerned, and guilty, and that will make Jemma more guilty, and she just—she can’t do this. Jemma can’t do this. All of this was a mistake.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and Skye curses, slamming on the breaks. Jemma catches herself against the dash, heart beating, jarred away from her thoughts.

A tree has fallen into the road, right in front of them, just as they were about to drive past it. It looks rotten. Decayed. Bark black and oozing, caving in on itself. It’s a wonder that it hadn’t fallen down long ago. Jemma thinks how unlucky it was that it fell just as they were driving by (has a fleeting, silly thought that it’s an omen of some kind) and then notices that the surrounding trees in the area all look like they’re in a state of decay as well. Just in this one spot.

“Freaky,” Skye says, and Jemma gives a noncommittal hum.

(Later, she’ll label this ‘incident number one’.)

read on AO3 

Cas is twenty-six and has never been kissed. It’s never been a problem, but now his advisor is saying that his dissertation, a romance novel, is lacking a personal touch and won’t be liked by the board. With one day until it is due Cas is at wits end, but maybe his roommate, Dean, can give him a few pointers. 2.9k [AO3 Link]

“You love me?” Jo asked with wide, open eyes.

Anna nodded back timidly and tried to walk away, but Jo caught her arm before she could make her escape.

“How long? How long, Anna?” she demanded. “How long have you loved me?”

Anna may have been an angel, bright and powerful and able to smite Jo in an instant, but in that moment, the angel looked completely and utterly human. Her eyes were downcast and her lip was perched between her teeth. She looked terrified, which was beyond Jo. How could an angel of the Lord be terrified of a simple human like her?

“Ever since I pulled you from Hell,” she whispered. “When I touched your soul, it was the purest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. From that first caress of your being, I knew that I’d Fall for you, Jo. I just knew.”

“Anna…” Jo trailed off, because what the hell. How could an angel love her, a hunter? It didn’t make any sense, because angels hated hunters. The only reason Jo was topside was because she was a pawn in their games, and even though she thought Anna wasn’t like the others, she still had doubts at times. She thought that Anna was just putting up with her, that Jo’s love for the angel was unrequited.

“I should go,” Anna said as she turned on her heel. Her large, obsidian wings flew out, ready for flight.

Jo felt herself panic as Anna crouched down. She couldn’t let her angel leave, not after a confession like that one.

“No you don’t,” Jo said, reaching forward and turning Anna around. With a fire within her, Jo leaned in and

“Their lips…no. They touch one another with their mouths…no. They…uh…mack on one another for a long time…the end.” Cas pushed his laptop away and ran fingers through his hair, groaning. “This is impossible,” he muttered to himself, and brought his elbows up onto the table.

He’d rewritten the ending scene with Anna and Jo’s kiss a thousand times, but it never worked out. Professor Mills cited a lack of personal touch, and told him to base the kiss on his own experiences. “Add a little raunchiness, will ya?” she said to him with an upturned grin. He nodded and laughed along at the time, but now he was truly panicking. He was never going to finish his dissertation before tomorrow’s board presentation, and it would all be because he’s the only twenty-six year old on the planet who has never been kissed.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried before. Back in college, Cas was almost kissed a few times, the closest being when he was playing a drunken game of spin the bottle with his floormates. It landed on a girl named Meg, a feisty business major who was known for her escapades in the bedroom, but when she leaned in and tried to kiss him, he couldn’t do it. When Cas imagined his first kiss, it always was with someone he really cared about, not some girl from Edlund Hall that he barely knew.

“Yeah, wait until you find the perfect person to kiss. That’ll do you a lot of good,” Cas angrily muttered to himself as he pulled his computer back towards him. The cursor blinked back at him mockingly, and Cas carefully began typing.

“With a fire within her, Jo leaned in and grabbed Anna’s face-”

“No, no, no!” Cas cried out as he pounded on the keys. Even if he had no experience, why couldn’t he write this damn scene? Kissing was not rocket science, and he’s read enough romance novels in his life. Why can’t he just write a few lines and get it over with?


He cringed when Dean’s voice hit his ears. The last thing he needed was his roommate seeing him all up in arms over this, especially since he was the one Cas had been trying to get the courage to kiss for years now. He quickly thought that if he wasn’t such a coward, then maybe he’d be able to not fail out of his dissertation.

“In my bedroom!” Cas called out, and began fruitlessly typing nonsense as Dean’s footsteps ricocheted off the hardwood floors, stopping when he reached Cas’s door.

“You okay?” Dean asked, and Cas turned around to see his friend leaning against the doorframe, lips turned up into a smirk as he toed the ground with his boot.

Perhaps it’s heightened by Cas’s troubles, but Dean looked even more handsome than usual. His jeans were rolled up at the bottom, revealing his ankles, and his white t-shirt was dirtied from his work shift at the garage. Combined with his playful gaze and his hands in his pockets, Cas felt himself blanching.

“Earth to Cas? You there, buddy?” Dean said as nodded in his direction.

Cas blinked owlishly a few times before going back to his laptop. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to finish my dissertation.”

Dean walked over to his computer and peered over Cas’s shoulder. He could feel Dean’s breath on his neck, and it took everything in him to not turn his head and close the distance between them. It would be the perfect moment to get experience-

“Wow, this sucks,” Dean snorted, and alas, the moment was broken.

Cas glared up at Dean and pushed away from his desk. “You think it’s crappy? I’m presenting this to the board tomorrow,” Cas reminded him with emphasis. “And you decide to tell me now that it’s crappy?”

Dean held up his hands and backed away into the bed. He plopped down and replied, “Crappy isn’t the right word. It’s just…lacking. Jo grabbed Anna’s face and kissed her until they broke apart tells me nothing,” he said, quoting the last thing Cas wrote down. “I want to read about what the kiss felt like for Jo, you know?”

Cas took a deep breath and took a seat next to Dean. He folded his hands in his lap and glanced out the window, then asked the question that had been on his mind all day. “What does it feel like to be kissed, Dean?”

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theadultwitchling  asked:

Hi, I was just wondering how you know that the Morrigan is talking to you? I've been having voices in my head and my mental imagination that sometimes so easily goes to Morrigu, but for the former I'm not sure wether or not I'm just thinking it up myself and being overly wishful. Some help would be very much appreciated since I'm not sure wether She is talking to me or it's just my own brain. Thank you!

Between being generally busy and waffling over how much personal detail I’m comfortable sharing publicly, this took me longer to answer than I would’ve preferred.  Thanks for your patience.  :)

I don’t know for absolute certainty, of course, but I trust that it’s the Morrigan I’m speaking to based on methods of discernment, consistent trends, and validation from external sources.  It’s true that our expectations can color our perception, and like you, I’m predisposed to interpret certain things as the Queen before anyone else ever comes to mind.  Being aware of that bias, however, helps.  Unfortunately, it just comes down to the fact that there’s a point at which you’re going to have to take a leap of faith and trust yourself.  Of course, that’s the hardest fucking thing to do, ain’t it?  Consider:

  • When you think it might be her, what does her presence feel like (emotionally, physically, spiritually, energetically, etc)?
  • Do you feel that same presence in instances that can attributed to other causes (stress, forgetting to take medication, etc)?
  • Is the feel of her presence consistent?  (If not, it could be a clue that it’s something else pretending to be her, your own self, or something isn’t otherwise right)
  • Does your experience seem reasonable according to what’s known of her, or does it parallel other people’s UPG?  (Like, if someone claiming to be one of the Queens is making dick jokes and demanding to drink from a vessel shaped like a unicorn’s horn, you may want to ask some critical questions.)

None of these things by themselves are always easy to answer and it’s hard to make generalizations because we all experience our gods in different ways.  The way I feel the Queens might not be the same as the way others do, but that doesn’t mean anyone’s experience is necessarily invalid.  In the same tone, matching UPGs doesn’t automatically make you right, either.

I personally experience na Morrígna as distinctly separate entities.  They all have a kind of thick heaviness to their presence that’s different from the weight I experience of other deities, something that’s bone-deep and eludes accurate description, and they rarely appear to me as still, fully-defined entities.  But these characteristics can manifest differently: Badb Catha is almost always a corvid, though I usually only see her shadow or parts of wings; she’s the most well-defined for me, since she receives the bulk of my devotional work, and that deeper relationship makes her feel much closer (sometimes to the point where I have to ask her to ease back a bit because I’m a tiny fragile human and claws digging into bone isn’t exactly comfortable), and I often end up grinning or laughing or feeling drunk after spending time with her.  Macha is a burst of energy and always in motion to me, and when she chooses to appear, it’s always with short, clear messages barked out before she’s gone again.  The Morrígan is the most likely to appear human-shaped for me, but it’s more like the approximation of what a non-human thinks a human shape actually is, if that makes sense.  The few times I’ve encountered Anu, she’s been little more than a shadow and feels like the chilled, mycelium-laced dirt you dig up that hasn’t seen the light of day in years (I grew up and still live in the woods, so that’s the imagery that best encapsulates how she makes me feel).  The glimpses I’ve gotten of Cathubodua, who isn’t one of the Queens in quite the same way but has some ancestral relation, has been of someone that’s more like a force of nature that’s even deeper and more visceral and even less likely to bother with a human shape.

As always, I encourage people to set the boundaries they need to feel safe with their gods, Queens or otherwise.  Over time I’ve come to trust them more deeply, but it’s because I’ve had the chance to build up that trust and learn to keep myself safe when I start feeling a bit manic or otherwise not myself that I’m okay with having that kind of relationship.

Edit: I’ve only had an entity pretend to be the Morrígan once.  When I dubiously asked if they were the Queen, they nodded, but they never actually said yes or no, and their behavior was wildly out-of-character for any of the Queens.  I quickly but politely extricated myself from the situation without taking anything they were offering.  There was one subsequent incident in which the entity returned but got violent - presumably a mix of knowing the same trick wouldn’t work again and anger over that - and I had to ask for help protecting myself, but everything turned out okay in the end.  If an entity gives you the runaround on their identity, that can be a huge red flag.

I invite other people to share their own experiences and perceptions of the Queens, if they wish to do so.  I hope this helps.

fic: Hail to the Chief., 1/1. (AU; Captain Swan.)

presidential campaign AU, with speechwriter-Killian and volunteer-Emma!
9,882 words | adult | AO3

a/n: This came out of almost nowhere at lunchtime yesterday, and I was hellbent on getting it done, because it’s kind of timely. On the other hand, if you’re reading this, and you’re eligible and able to vote, but haven’t done so yet, please go do that instead. :D 

It’s not really altruism that led her here.

Or, well, not entirely altruism.

Because while you can be hungry, tired, and homeless and still want good things for the country, you have to prioritize, and finding yourself a place to sleep for the night beats finding a rich politician a place to sleep for the next four years.

It does turn out, however, that helping that politician often comes with free pizza and that sleeping in the campaign office — whether or not it’s because you don’t have anywhere else to go — is the mark of a dedicated volunteer.

Dedicated enough to accidentally end up on the payroll.

And that is what actually led her here.

To election night in New York City and Killian Jones’ hand on her breast in the moment after they call Nevada for Mills.

(Of course, a lot of stuff happened in between.)

Keep reading

I Give my Whole Heart to You

Summary: Phil is incredibly nervous to be proposing to Dan.  It’s something he’s dreamed of for so long, he can’t help but ramble a bit as he asks Dan to marry him.  But spending forever with Dan is something Phil is sure he isn’t afraid of.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none :)

A/N: Okay so long rambling proposals are kinda my favourite, so this prompt was perfect! I had a lot of fun writing something so pure and happy, and I hope you enjoy reading it :)

He was finally going to do it.  Tonight was the night that Phil Lester was finally going to propose to Dan Howell.

And he couldn’t remember a time that he had been more nervous.

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just--a-pervert-guy  asked:

and to finish i've read the suicidal!mc and now im dead inside, but now i want some angst with a happy end! how about a mc who got into a car crash end now they are in coma for 6 month, and now the doctor ask the rfa+v+unknown if they want to turn of the machine, they refuse(i hope, i think... well if you are felling murderous today and want to kill my happy end... please dont :/) and one month later the mc awaken and happy reunion and happy end, please gender neutral mc please :D,

<ahhh yes, i’m not feeling murderous today, and i think that it would be great to have some angst with a positive ending!! this sounds very nice to do tonight, thank you darling (i call everyone either darling or hun, btw) for the request!!>


  • he was sitting in class when he got a call from an unknown number
  • he thought about just ignoring it, but he had a gut feeling that he needed to answer it
  • “Excuse me, Professor, this is an important call, do you mind if I take it quickly?”
  • he was excused, he answered the phone and raised it to his ear
  • “Hello?”
  • “Yes, is this Yoosung Kim, MC’s s/o?” 
  • “Uhh, yes. Who’s calling please?”
  • the person on the other end explained that they were the emergency room of a hospital close to his class, they told him that you had gotten hit by another driver; you had a green light, they had a red light, you went forward, they were texting, and they didn’t stop, colliding into you
  • he dropped his phone to the ground, before shakily picking it back up 
  • “Yes…I-I’ll be on my way as soon as possible. Please do anything-anything, to save them.”
  • he sprinted back into the classroom, grabbing his stuff before running out without any explanation
  • he went as quickly as he could, once the bus wasn’t going fast enough he though about getting off and sprinting to the hospital but he knew once he got there you’d still be there
  • running in, he slammed his hands on the desk asking for your room
  • the lady at the front desk gave it to him before he ran off again to find your room, and once he did a doctor stopped him outside
  • “Doc, how is MC doing?”
  • “Mr. Kim, don’t be too upset or beat yourself up but they’re in a coma, we don’t know when they’ll be out of it either.” 
  • at that moment he could feel his body wanting to drop to the floor, but he knew he couldn’t
  • he spent every single day with you, he never left the hospital unless one of the members convinced him to go home and take a shower
  • it had been 6 months, and the doctors tried to convince him to turn off your machine
  • “Sir, I think it would be good to just let MC-”
  • “No. I know MC, I know MC better than anyone. They’ll pull through it. Don’t ever turn off that machine.”
  • well, 1 month later he was right, you pulled through
  • “Y-Yoosung? Where are we?”
  • he engulfed you into a bear hug, nearly crushing you
  • he sat down and explained everything that had happened, you were out for 6 months cause of some stupid texting driver who made it out of the crash perfectly fine btw
  • “Yoosung, I’m so sorry I should’v-”
  • “Shh..MC all that matters right now is that you’re with me. I was convinced for a while I’d loose you.”
  • he always stayed by you for the rest of your lives whenever he could, he didn’t want to come close to loosing you like that ever again.

Jaehee Kang:

  • it was a normal day at work for her, she was about to have her lunch break so she was waiting for you to come in with coffee for the two of you
  • it was odd that you were running late, but she brushed it off
  • eh..it’s probably traffic.
  • yeah. really bad traffic
  • her phone rang, she recognized it to be the local hospital so she picked up right away
  • “Hello?” 
  • “Yes, this is Jaehee Kang correct?” 
  • “Yes, is everything alright?”
  • “We’ve got an MC in here, their first primary contact to call in emergencies was listed as you…”
  • “Is everything alright?”
  • the person on the other end explained that you had gotten stuck in an intersection, and as it was clear for you to cross two cars instantly came out of now where and sandwiched you in-between them.
  • she hung up instantly, gathered her things and ran out of the building
  • “Assistant Kang, where are you-”
  • Jumin decided it wouldn’t be good for Jaehee to drive herself, cause if she gets into an accident who’s his assistant going to be??, so he got one if his drivers to take her to the ER
  • she ran in, quickly finding her way to you in a formal matter instead of a rushing mess
  • the door to your room was closed, so she found herself pacing outside the room until a doctor and nurse finally emerged
  • “Ms. Kang, I’m so sorry to tell you this but MC may not make it, they got hit so hard that they’re in a coma, and we’re pretty sure that they won’t make it.” 
  • Jaehee’s heart was crushed, all she could manage to do was nod her head before rushing to be by your side
  • 6 months. She stayed in the hospital for 6 months straight, never leaving at all, even when the RFA tried to pull her away.
  • today, Zen was with her, trying to get her to go home and get changed
  • “Please, Jaehee, MC wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”
  • “Oh well, I’m alright, I’m not leaving until MC is awake. They’ll wake up I know it.”
  • then a nurse walked into the room, interrupting Jaehee and Zen
  • “Excuse me, Ms. Kang, I believe uit’s about time to turn off the machine. MC isn’t showing any signs of waking up any time soon.”
  • “I don’t care if it will take 5 more months, a year, or 3 more years, we’re not turning off that machine.”
  • “If that’s what you wish, Ms. Kang.”
  • little did you know, you woke up a month later to everyone’s surprise.
  • “MC! Oh, MC I’ve missed you so so much. Thank you God, thank you God!” 
  • “Jaehee? What are we doing in a hospital room? And Zen’s here too?” 
  • Zen decided to leave for a while, grabbing the three of you some food, but not until he said hello and that he’d be back
  • and in the time he was gone, Jaehee explained what had happened, the accident, you being out for 7 months
  • “Oh my god, I remember it little by little, I just don’t remember getting hit…I’m sorry Jae-”
  • “It’s alright MC, all I need is you here now.” 
  • now you never really left her side, she would even take you to work with her
  • you’d help her out, since you were there anyways and became practically Jaehee’s little personal assistant that she’s always needed
  • “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, MC. I love you.” 


  • he was waiting for you to come over, despite it being later in the night you both had always hung out in the late hours of the night.
  • he stood by the door, looking out the window before his phone rang
  • “Yeah?”
  • “Is this Ryu Hyun?”
  • “U-Uh, yes this is, how can I help you?”
  • the man told Zen that he was a worker from the emergency room about a half hour away, you had gotten into a car accident on a major highway about an hour away from Zen’s house, a drunk driver slammed into you sending your though the guard rail, flying for at least 100 feet before slamming into a tree then the side of a building with the drunk driver’s car not too far behind you.
  • he instantly threw on a jacket and put on his bike helmet, riding his motorcycle all the way to the hospital, weaving through traffic almost getting himself killed
  • “Yes hello, I’m here to see an MC?” 
  • “Right this way, Mr. Hyun.” 
  • he was lead to your room, where a doctor stood at the foot of your bed
  • “Ah, Mr. Hyun, I wasn’t expecting to see you so quickly.”
  • “Heh, when my love is in danger I need to get to them instantly…what’s the verdict doc?” 
  • “MC…they’re…in a coma. I’m sorry Mr. Hyun, we’re not sure if they’ll make it out. If they don’t come around in 6 months we’ll ask if you’d like to turn off their machine.” 
  • he nodded his head, before the doctor left as he sank into on of the cold plastic chairs they had to offer
  • he gripped your cold, lifeless hand the entire time, waiting to feel either your comforting warmth or you squeeze back but it never happened
  • he missed out on so many bigger opportunities, but he turned them all down to make sure you were 100% alright
  • then 6 months came, and you still weren’t awake.
  • “Mr. Hyun…I think it’s time to turn off their machine..”
  • If you touch that god damn machine I will make sure of some way to end your career.  MC is my life, I know they’ll pull through so if you dare turn off that machine…
  • “Yes, a-as you wish Mr. Hyun.”
  • he cried that night, he didn’t want to loose you
  • then exactly a month later, you woke up
  • “W-What? Zen? Where are we?” 
  • instantly called the RFA to tell them you were awake and you were alive
  • he explained everything that happened, making your jaw drop
  • “Well, MC, angels are meant to fly once in their lives..”
  • “Shush it you, I’m sorry I should’ve been more carefu-”
  • “No, it was that drunk bastard’s fault not yours.” 
  • after that he asked you to move in with him, so you wouldn’t have to drive over late int the night, and you could both spend almost every minute with each other 

Jumin Han:

  • he sat quickly working, it was a late night and he wanted to get home quickly to see you once you got off your shift at one of the local 24 hour shops
  • he got buzzed in through the phone from Jaehee, groaning as he hit the accept button
  • “Yes, Assistant Kang?”
  • “Mr. Han, I’ve got the emergency room from down the street on hold, they tried to get a hold of your cell but it was off.”
  • his eyes got wide, before he cleared his throat
  • “Put them through, Assistant Kang.”
  • “Jumin Han, speaking.”
  • “Yes, Mr. Han, we were wondering if you could come to the emergency room? We’ve got an MC in here who’s first emergency contact was listed as you..”
  • the man on the other side of the phone told him that you were leaving work when some person in the parking lot thought it would be a genius idea to drive at 40 miles per hour without stopping as you were backing up, slamming into you which then sent you going forward until you crashed through the dress shop across the street
  • he hung up with them, before calling Jaehee
  • “Assistant Kang, take care of the rest of my paper work and call off any meetings I have planned for the next month. MC’s in the hospital and I need to be with them.” 
  • if it weren’t for Driver Kim, Jumin probably would’ve driven himself and ended up in the hospital right besides you
  • he sprinted in, the woman at the front desk pointing to the hallway you were in since she knew exactly where he was headed
  • “Doctor how much money do I need to pay you to make them okay again?”
  • “Not so fast now, sir, MC’s in a coma, and none of us here know how long they’ll make it.”
  • he kept trying to push his money on them, he needed you back for the sake of his wellbeing and for your wellbeing
  • he was always found pacing your room day to day, sitting down occasionally and sleeping, then every once in a while when the RFA would come as a group to visit he’d go home and change, but he always swore up and down he’d better be there when you woke up
  • well it’s been 6 months, and you still weren’t up.
  • it was a late night for Jumin, he was exhausted from working in the hospital all day instead of the office, trying to catch up on everything that needed his signature, so he didn’t really notice when the doctor walked in
  • but he noticed when they were headed to your source of life for the time being
  • What the hell do you think you’re doing, doc?
  • “Mr. Han..I think it’s time to let them go, it’s been 6 months, they aren’t coming back.” 
  • I will end you, your career, everything you love, and this entire hospital if you dare turn off MC’s machine. I don’t care if it takes a week, a month, 5 years, or a century before they awake, you are keeping that machine on until they either wake up or if I die first, understand me?
  • “Y-Yes, Mr. Han, I apologize.”
  • “I must apologize for snapping at you, it’s been a long day doctor. Just don’t shut them off yet, thank you.”
  • and to his surprise, a month after that occurred you woke up
  • “Jumin, what hell are we doing here?”
  • “MC? MC, thank god you’re awake.” 
  • he leaned over and gave you a kiss before explaining everything that happened
  • “I’m so sorry Jumin I should’ve looked behind me-”
  • “No, MC, no “I’m sorry’s” from you okay? You’re quitting that job and just being a house wife from now on, got me?”
  • you giggled, nodding your head before he gave you a sincere hug, one that he hadn’t given in a long time.
  • and you did exactly what he told you, you quit your job, and lived happily as a stay-at-home wife with Jumin and Elizabeth, and you weren’t allowed to drive yourself anywhere unless Jumin was with you (for safety reasons of course.)


  • Seven was already barely running on any sleep at all, and he couldn’t really tell what was fake or not
  • so once he got a call from the emergency room he thought it was his imagination
  • “Saeyoung Choi?” 
  • he shuddered at his own name, this was definitely real.
  • “Speaking, how may I help you?”
  • “We have a person under the name of MC-”
  • he instantly hung up, running out of his house and to his car before speeding off to the hospital
  • after practically fighting his way through the line of people waiting, he reached the front desk, asked for you, and once he got directions he actually sprinted to where you were (like no lie he actually sprinted for the first time in years)
  • after getting to your room out of breath, he was greeted to a doctor who explained everything to him as he tried to recollect himself
  • the doctor explained that you had gotten into a bad head-on collision at a stop sign, a person turning the corner didn’t pay attention, so they never saw you sitting there
  • “I’m sorry, Mr. Choi, but we’re not sure if they’ll make it.”
  • “Oh I know my MC, they’ll make it alright.”
  • he had tears in his eyes, as he slipped into the seat next you, grabbing your hand before passing out himself
  • he never left, he barely ate, barely kept himself hydrated, and he wasn’t cracking jokes like his normal self
  • the RFA took turns babysitting him, making sure he was okay, and you were okay as well
  • then the one day he kicked everyone out, 6 months after the accident, so it would just be him and you, the doctor came in to talk to Seven
  • “Mr. Choi, I think it’s about time to say goodbye to MC. They aren’t showing any signs of coming back-”
  • No.
  • “But Mr. Choi-”
  • No. You’re not killing my MC. Not yet, anyways, not until I’m gone myself.
  • once the doctor left, Seven broke down into tears, he wasn’t sure if you would come back after all.
  • then one month later you did
  • “Luciel? What the hell..why am I in pain?”
  • he hugged you so tight, you were convinced he’d never let go
  • he sat down, after hugging you for a straight 3 hours, and explained everything that had happened
  • “I’m sorry Sev, I was on my way to surprise you, I had some Dr. Pepper in my trunk and i thought maybe we could watch a movie or something but I was stupid and didn-”
  • “Shh, it wasn’t you, it was the other driver okay? They’re the stupid one, not you.”
  • he made sure you were 100% okay before he took you home, then have forced you to move in with him so he could always be near him
  • and you both had your happy ending, you were able to monitor his heath and make sure he was okay, and he was able to make sure that he would never loose you again.


  • he had just left on another one of his trips, and as soon as he got there he got a call from the local hospital.
  • “Hello?”
  • “Yes, is this Jihyun Kim?”
  • “Speaking, how can I help you?”
  • the person on the other end said that you had just gotten into a t-bone collision on your way to work, you were going through a green light as someone on your right and thought they had a green light, slamming themselves into you.
  • he instantly got the quickest flight back home, despite the fact he drove all the way out to where his destination was
  • as soon as he got there 5 hours later he immediately ran to the hospital
  • he quickly found where you were, walking in to see the doctor in there waiting for him
  • “I’m sorry sir, I was 5 hours away on a trip for work, so I got the quickest flight here.”
  • “That’s quite alright Mr. Kim-”
  • “Please, call me Jihyun.”
  • “As you wish, Jihyun. Anyways, we aren’t sure if MC will make it, they’re in a very bad coma and isn’t really showing signs of coming out.
  • “Thank you for telling me that, doctor, but MC’s my angel, I know they’ll be able to pull themselves out of this.”
  • he sat down next to you, grabbing your hand as he talked to you like it were a normal day,
  • except you wouldn’t answer him.
  • this went on for around 6 months, but V was able to take care of both himself and you, making sure there was still a heartbeat on the monitor beside you.
  • “Jihyun, I think it would be best to let MC go, they aren’t showing any responses to life anymore, I don’t believe they’ll make it.”
  • Sir, I don’t think so. Their heart is still beating, they’re still got a pulse, and it’s beating strong. Give them another month or so, they’ll some around.
  • and lo and behold, you awoke in a month.
  • “V? What are you doing here? I thought you had left on a trip?”
  • “Well, that trip needed to be cut short, sweetheart. But I’m here now, okay?”
  • he explained to you everything, not leaving out a single detail.
  • “I’m sorry I had to cut your trip short, the driver should’ve payed attention.”
  • “It’s alright, MC, as long as I’m here with you now, and I’ll stay with you from now on.”
  • he kept that promise, once you were released he took you on every trip he took, never leaving your side until you both died peacefully in your sleep, the way you both wanted to go.


  • he was at home, waiting for you to come home from errand running, before his phone began to ring
  • “I swear to god if it’s Saeyoung again-Hello?”
  • “Is this Saeran Choi?”
  • “Yes..may I ask who is speaking?” 
  • “This is (person) from the emergency room, we just got an MC here with you as their primary emergency contact…” 
  • he instantly hung up and ran out, running to the hospital since it was only about 5 or 6 minutes away 
  • the entire time his mind was bogged down with negative thoughts, you were the only person he had left who he could fully trust and depend on, if you were gone what would happen to him?
  • “God damnit MC, you better not die on me..” 
  • as he finally reached the hospital, he quickly asked loudly yelled asking where you were until he got directions, then sprinting off in that direction.
  • “MC isn’t dead, Mr. Choi., but they are in a bad coma, we’re not sure if they’ll wake up.”
  • the doctor then went to explain that you had gotten into a rear collision on your way home from the food store, sending you 20 feet ahead of you since the driver behind you was on their phone texting while doing 50 miles per hour, not seeing the stop sign clearly ahead of you, sending you into a brick wall of a building.
  • he nodded his head, walking into the room waiting for the door to close before he dropped to his knees and screamed to the top of his lungs
  • it was the only way to take the pain out of his heart without inflicting pain on himself, something he promised you he would never do.
  • he always kept himself up, he was either pacing the room, rocking in the corner, or gripping your hand as if his life depended on it
  • his brother always came in to check on him, bringing him food and drinks that he never ate (he only consumed them once in a while, if his stomach felt the need to hold something down.)
  • then came the 6 month mark, and you still weren’t up.
  • “Mr. Choi, I think it’s best to let MC pass, it’s their time, they’re not waking up any time soon.” 
  • Not on my watch. MC WILL WAKE UP!
  • the doctor quickly left the room before Saeran had another metal breakdown, like he did every other day
  • but then, one month later, you woke up.
  • “Saeran? What the hell-” 
  • he hugged you for what seemed like forever, before vaguely telling you about the accident before getting too worked up
  • you hugged him again, petting his hair until he calmed down enough to finish explaining
  • “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Saeran, I should’ve waited to leave or, or-”
  • “No…MC…it wasn’t your fault. But I’m never letting you go out on your own, if you leave me, what will I have left?”
  • and from that day forward you two were practical attached at the hip, if you had a girls night out with Jaehee he’d tag along, if he needed to go somewhere you’d tag along with him, and you both were happy since you both knew you were safe 24/7

<whew, this one took a lot out of me, but i love angst with a positive ending!! i feel like they progressively got longer and longer, so if there is any need for a redo let me know! I’m also still not 100% on my V or Unknown writing skills yet..so feedback on those would be great. thank you so so much for this wonderful request, darling!!♡>

Ciel x Lizzy Modern AU

In Elementary school Ciel fell in love with Lizzy. It was an adorable, innocent love. They would do their homework together, play house, and hug, thinking that was a really adult thing to do. 

Then Vincent got a job in another city and the Phantomhives had to move. Ciel tried everything to avoid this. He cried and pled that they wouldn’t have to move but his parents made him anyway. They tried to comfort Ciel about leaving Lizzy. They told him he was still young and a lot of things could happen but Ciel didn’t want anything to happen. He wanted to stay with his beloved Lizzy. Rachel told him he could write her letters to stay in contact and thus, under tears, the two had to say goodbye.

And as it is with long-distance-relationships, it doesn’t usually work. Ciel and Lizzy lost sight of each other but every day without her hurt Ciel’s soul deeply. He turned out to be a rather grumpy teen. He rarely had any friends but the friends he had were good ones. Despite his behaviour he was well popular but he never went out with anyone. This went well until his mother heard of his popularity. One day she asked Ciel why he wouldn’t date anyone. Trying to dodge the question Ciel told her he just wasn’t interested. But being the mom she was Rachel dug deeper. And completely annoyed Ciel told her he didn’t want to date anyone because he hadn’t forgotten about Lizzy yet. For a moment Rachel was speachless. She just barely remembered the little girl her son has had a crush on all those years ago. And then it escalated. She looked at her son and told him to stop holding onto a memory that has passed. She told him to move on. With a good intention, she didn’t know how strong this “little crush” really had been, but for Ciel it was a real blow. His mother had told him his love for Lizzy was lost in time, she had declared his feelings hopeless, and it gotten him hopeless.

And so Ciel started dating people. He wouldn’t listen to his dates talking, he didn’t bother to hide his desinterest. When somebody would try to hold his hand he’d rip it loose again. Once they’d try to kiss him he’d forcefully push them away. He was breaking on the inside. Every day he had to force himself to pretend he had passed on a little more. 

His friends got worried for him, asking him why he agreed to go out with everyone if he was only gonna push them away. And Ciel told them it was to please his parents. And that evening Rachel and Vincent Phantomhive received a call from Ciel’s best friend Soma who felt he had to do something to help his friend. And both were shocked, Rachel on the verge of tears. Neither of them had ever wanted for this to happen. They hed never intended to put so much emotional pressure on their beloved son. They immediately went to apologize to Ciel. They hugged him, they would pet his head, tell him everything was going to be alright, and that he shouldn’t have forced himself to do things he didn’t want to do. He didn’t have to date people he didn’t like just to make them happy.

After this Ciel stopped forcing himself. He was a grumpy but other than that emotionally healthy teen. His parents were still a little bit worried that after almost a decade their son was still so dedicated to a childhood crush. But they had seen where to much critizism lead so they decided to just stay by his side and watch over him. They’d ask how he was more often, meddled a little bit more in his life. Ciel, of course, appreciated the love his parents showed him, but he was a teenager and one with a reputiation on top of that. He wouldn’t tell them. Also, they were rather annoying.

Then came the time Ciel went to collage. He therefore moved to a whole different town yet again. Rachel and Vincent were extremely proud, yet torn. After all they had to let their only son leave the nest. Ciel on the other hand was ready for a new challange and he hoped it would be a good one. And in his very first course in collage he encountered a moment that would make his heart stop beating. That very moment when he accidentally happened to run into Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford. Neither of them could believe their eyes but they recognized each other in a heartbeat. Their presence felt so close, so intimate, it was awkward for them both, having such intense feelings for someone they had last seen about a decade ago. Her smile had become a lot more beautiful he felt, and he had, sometime in the last ten years, become one hell of a blushy mess. But they were together and they got to know each other once again.

Vincent and Rachel were fairly surprised when they heard their son was in a relationship with his childhood love again. They were worried they’d both still cling onto the memory of each other. But as they met the young couple in person their doubts disappeared. They didn’t think they had ever seen Ciel act like this before. Not even in his childhood he had a glow like that and for some reason their sweet and slightly awkward interactions were soothing to watch. They were close, not in a corney tennage drama way, but in an adult way, speaking to each other freely, agreeing, disagreeing, being a team. And on the next class reunion, with classmates and friends, Soma was very pleased to be able to announce that Ciel Phantomhive was finally engaged, to the love of his life. 

that’s why i run to you

i wrote this in 30 minutes. it’s past midnight. i should be sleeping!! this is probably terrible!!! i’m so very sorry!!!!!!

[for the finnrey friday theme “hurt/comfort”!]

Sometimes, after a long day, Finn and Rey will lie and face each other, playing with each other’s fingers, just looking at each other. Sometimes they don’t even talk. Just being together, in each others’ presence, knowing they’re not alone, is enough. They’ll lie like that for hours. Catching up on each other’s days, sharing their worries, just being still. It’s usually Rey who gets sleepy first. She’ll eventually close her eyes against the pillow and shuffle up to tuck her head under Finn’s chest, tangling their legs together. Finn always pulls up the covers with a mere flick of his hands and then wraps her in his arms. It’s always hard to remember what was so hard about the day when it ends like this.

Finn is exceptional at shoulder massages. Rey will come home from a particularly rough training or workout session, tension lining her body. And Finn will either sit or lie her down, hands working against her muscles right away. He kisses words of comfort in to her skin and hair and keeps rubbing at her muscles until she’s half asleep or finally relaxed.

Nightmares are a given, after all they’ve been through. They both get them. Sometimes, they’re dreams that are linked through the Force, so they see the same horrifying things playing out before them. They’ve gotten rather good at comforting each other, though. It usually consists of holding each other as close as possible, breathing each other in, stroking hair, touching skin. Words of comfort are whispered in to each other’s ears. “I’m here. I’m here.” “You’re here. Yeah. You’re here.” “We’re okay.”

When it’s not nightmares, it’s insomnia. Rey will often wake to find the bed beside her empty, and then walk out in to the cool night air with a blanket in her arms to find him sitting down on the little grass bank, looking up at the stars, his back to her. “Can’t sleep?” She will ask. He’ll turn to her and smile sadly; his expression a strange combination of sleepy and wide awake. “No.” “Mind if I sit?” “I never mind.” She’ll smile and wrap the blanket around his shoulders, sitting beside him, taking his hand. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he leans his head back in return. They’ll find shapes in the stars and the planets and give them their own names. Gaze up at D'Qar’s moons. Give each other quick kisses and snuggles. Until Finn feels himself flagging a bit, and then they’ll retire to bed. Even if he can’t sleep, he’ll know he’s not alone.

Sometimes, when Rey can’t stop crying, Finn has a moment of panic where he doesn’t know what to do. His instinct is to try and take whatever pain it is away. But the worst part is when he once again realises that this isn’t something that simple. He would fight a million battles to take any pain away from Rey. And Rey knows that. She knows he would. Which is why, when the tears won’t stop, when the pain is so bad she can barely see a way out, when it feels like it’s ripping and tearing at her very core; she reaches for him. If he’s not in the same room as her, she just has to reach through the Force, and he comes running. He’s the only person Rey feels comfortable being vulnerable like this around. He’s the only one who understands. The only one who won’t judge. The only one who won’t ask questions; who won’t expect anything of her. He holds her, tightly against him, wrapping her so well in his strong arms as if he hopes it’ll keep her safe from the darkness. He presses kisses to her hair. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

In every situation, in every moment of hurt or sadness or pain or loss, one thing remains steadfast. “I’ll always run to you,” Rey whispers to him one night as they lie awake. She’s still got tears on her face. Her hands still shake. Finn stills them with kisses. “I know,” he says, closing his beautiful eyes as he kisses her fingertips. “And I’ll always run to you.”

[thank you for reading! i posted this over here on ao3 too if you feel like leaving a comment/kudos to let me know what you thought. or you could of course let me know on here! reblogs are always appreciated :)]

he’s four years old (harvey/mike) - for anon

Mike never thought he’d be back here.

Those few days he spent roaming the Harvard campus, trying to pick up tidbits of information he might need to try and validate the lie of a life he was about to live, felt like forever ago. He was a different man now. If you had’ve found Mike that day and told him that nearly a decade later he’d be married to the man that hired him and they’d have an adorable son whom Mike loved more than anything in this life, well, that Mike probably would’ve wondered if he still had some drugs lingering in his system.

To be honest he doesn’t know how he feels about being back on Harvard grounds. He can see a sense of contentment settle over Harvey, a feeling of nostalgia he doesn’t normally succumb to working its magic on him. He can see the excitement on Emmett’s face, thrilled at the newness of it all and captivated by the expanses of snow covered grounds before him. But for Mike, Harvard has always been a shadow in the corner of his mind, a reminder of how different things could’ve gone had he just been better.

But then Harvey’s fingers slide through his, and Mike turns to look at his husband, and he knows that if he’d made it here when he was meant to then he never would’ve met Harvey. And that is a scenario that is simply unacceptable.

They’re back here because Harvey has been asked to do some guest lecturing, and they decided to make a mini vacation of it. They’re using Cambridge as their base and then exploring the local area along with doing some day trips further afield. Harvey has already told him about several places he remembers from his Harvard days that he wants to show Mike, and Mike might have done some research about what other interesting places they could visit while they were here. They haven’t gotten out of Manhattan in so long, and he thinks all three of them could use this break away from everyday life.

Poor Emmett vacillated between uncontrollable excitement and utter boredom the whole drive here, but now that they’ve arrived and he can run around the snow covered quad he’s definitely back to uncontrollable excitement. Mike’s happy to let him burn off some energy. He still hasn’t decided if he’ll attend Harvey’s lectures - Harvey asked him to come along, and he’s sure Emmett could behave himself for an hour if they sat quietly in the back - but he doesn’t need to decide either way yet. For now they can just wander along the grounds, together and content.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful it was,” Mike admits.

Harvey makes a noise of assent, and when Mike follows his gaze he sees Harvey is watching Emmett, rolling around in the snow and laughing his head off. It does something to Mike, the fact that Harvey has returned to a place with which he speaks of nothing but fondness, and yet he still can’t take his eyes off their son.

“Hey,” Mike says, tugging on Harvey’s hand, and Harvey meets his eyes. Mike leans over and kisses him. “I’m glad we’re here.”

Harvey grins. “Me too,” he says, and Harvey is the one to close the gap between them this time.

They’re interrupted from what would probably be an inappropriately long make out by Emmett running into their legs. They break apart, laughing, and Emmett grabs Mike’s hand and tugs, saying, “Let’s go!”

They let Emmett lead them away, and Harvey says, “I think Emmett will like studying here.”

“He’s four years old,” Mike points out. “It’s a little too early to start planning his college future.”

“It’s never too early,” Harvey says, and Mike can’t help but roll his eyes. “Plus, he’s a legacy, with two lawyers for fathers. No way is he going to be something other than a lawyer.”

“Emmett will be whatever he wants to be and we will support him one hundred percent,” Mike says, not a little firmly. He probably wouldn’t have been so insistent if Harvey hadn’t made the two lawyers for fathers comment (and in all honestly it’s not like he himself hasn’t thought that Emmett might grow up to be a lawyer before). But Mike hasn’t been a lawyer in four years, he’ll never practice law again, and he can’t help but wonder what they’ll tell Emmett when he grows up, the truth about how they met, about Mike’s past.

“Hey, Mike, what is it?” Harvey asks, concern clear in his voice.

Mike shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“No it’s not. Talk to me.”

Mike lets out a deep sigh, takes a moment to watch Emmett as he runs ahead of them before coming back, grinning the whole time. “Emmett will be going to school soon.”

Harvey looks confused by the apparent non sequitur. “Yeah…”

“I guess I’ve just been … I can’t go back to being a lawyer, but as much as I love you and Emmett I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being a stay at home dad either. I need to get back out there, start working again. I just … I don’t know as what.”

Harvey nods thoughtfully. “You don’t have to work, Mike. No, let me finish,” he quickly adds when Mike tries to cut him off. “You don’t need to work, which means you don’t have to rush into it. Take your time, think about what you want to do, maybe even see if you want to go back to school and study for a bit. Whatever you want, I’ll support you.”

Mike smiles warmly. “I know you will.”

“Just like I’ll support our son even if he decides to give up his birthright and not come to Harvard.”

Mike chuckles. “Well, like I said, he’s only four. It’s a pretty impressionable age. Who knows, maybe this vacation will imprint on his mind and he’ll grow up wanting to come back here.”

Harvey grins. “Fingers crossed.”

Brighter than sunshine

Originally posted by jibeom

A/N: literally no one asked but i listened to begin and i watched the mv for blood sweat and tears and i’ve just been feeling soft about jungkook lately. btw the title is a reference to the aqualung song. i listened to it and it just felt right for this fic. hope you all enjoy!

wc: ~4.4K

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cohale  asked:

* hey, so someone's reblogged one of your many amazing edits (I did my self a favour and went through your page). I was just wondering how you achieve the still background on through the silhouette like in /post/120416727688/a-thousand-silhouettes-dancing-on-my-chest-no ? I've tried and thought of how to do it but yours looks absolutely amazing. Thanks and I hope you have a great day :)

Thank you so much cutie, that’s very nice of you to say. I’ve never made a tutorial or anything before so sorry if it’s not good.

This is a tutorial on how to make the background of your image a solid color.

You do need photoshop and basic knowledge of how to use it.

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anonymous asked:

Hi~ I just wanted to say that you're my favorite scenario blog by far. Your writing is so great and I thoroughly enjoy reading everything you create. Plus, you're adorable. So I've been rewatching Happy Camp and I noticed that behind the boys are a couple translators. I want to be a translator myself, so seeing that gives me so much hope. Like maybe in the future I'll translate for EXO omg. But I was wondering if you could write a scenario where you translate for Kai? If not, np. Thank you ・v・♡

♡ thank you omg! 
here’s some cute kai where you’re his translator for a concert and he keeps getting close to you on stage and afterwords he confesses?!?

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Man of the Hour

Words: 2540

Writer: @breathingfilm

The cold winter air hit Oscar’s face as he made his way through the Brooklyn streets. He was late. He was always late. He had gotten the call from a friend from his time at Juilliard, weeks before, telling him that he was getting married.

As busy as Oscar was, he always seemed to try and make time for old friends but had failed at that as of late. It was important to him that he attended the engagement party, especially since he did have limited time at home in the city and wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding.

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BMP Butler Headcanon: MC Gives A Gift That Makes The Butlers Fall in Love With Her

Okay this is kind of a ‘Part One’ because I didn’t really want to put these into one post plus I still need to finish the other half of the season 2 butler substories.

Headcanon received by lephrasia <33

Claude: I think he would appreciate cufflinks because they aren't super  noticeable and he would love that he could always wear something she  gave him. 

“I know you don't like standing out much, but I saw these at the clothing  store today and I couldn't help myself…" she blushes and hands me a  small box. I eye it suspiciously but still take it from her. I open the box to  find… Cuff links? Upon further inspection, I notice engraved on the silver circles was a smiley face. I crack a smile to myself, suppressing a laugh. 

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Not One to Forget

A/N: I can’t believe that my first Gravity Falls fanfic is a 9k fiddauthor angstfest that was originally just a short Fiddleford character study. What a hell of a way to come off a 5-month writer’s block lmao. 

Shoutout to @tallykale whose amazing fiddauthor fics MAY have influenced me writing this (seriously, pls read their stuff, it’s so good!!). Also thanks to my friend @toobookishtohandle for listening to me wail about my own writing and who implored me to give this a happy ending and tone down my angst for just ONCE in my goddamn life (I failed, btw). 

Also available on my brand spankin’ new Ao3

Warnings: fluff then devastating angst, non-consensual touching, lots of anxiety, blood, and a few other disturbing things. Nothing too harsh tho, I think. Also mostly canon-complaint? Just with a lot more gay. 

…anyways, welcome to run-on sentence hell… hope you enjoy!

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket wasn’t one to forget things.

It wasn’t to say he didn’t forget things, or that he didn’t have a few memories he’d rather not remember, but he’d always been good at seeing the truth of things. Like how when he introduced himself with his full name, soothed by the Southern accent he’d inherited from his Ma, people tended to either snicker or look doubtful that he was in college in the first place. Or when he first walked into his dorm to the sight of his future roommate dropping a stack of too-many boxes filled with too-many papers all across the floor, and the man had stammered out a quick apology at the same time he introduced himself as Stanford Pines and practically threw himself at Fiddleford, offering him a handshake before remembering his insecurities and wincing as Fiddleford grasped the six-fingered hand. In the space of that time, Fiddleford saw a lot; this was a man that had been ridiculed just as much as him (for a birth-defect rather than just a silly accent and a big brain, Fiddleford thought), someone unused to social interactions, someone that with a wince said silently, “Let’s get this over with…”

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In Your Eyes (Part Three of Four)

Pairing: MinKey! (side OnTae)
Rating: PG
Length: 4.7k or so.
Crossposted: AFF

They live on opposite sides of the country, but are able to see and feel what the other does - despite being strangers. Kibum and Minho share senses, but begin to share much more than that.

Part One


Part Two

Kibum woke up incredibly late on this particular Saturday, making up for all his lost hours that were stolen away by the deadline for next month’s issue. As he squirmed around on his bed, he spotted his alarm clock glowing a bold 12:47 pm. He groaned loudly at himself, since he was supposed to get up and go to the gym today. He’d promised Minho.

Thinking of the other man, an image of an ugly sweater appeared before his eyes, projected onto the ceiling he was watching.

“What the fuck is that, Minho?” Kibum asked, disgusted.

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anonymous asked:

I'm 14 and I've never liked the way I look, It's gotten worse because people are saying stuff in school. I don't wanna think those things about myself anymore but every time I talk to someone they say it's just "a phase" What advice would you give to someone who isn't self/body confident?

I have many thoughts on body confidence, and I feel scared to give advice on this because I think there are so many ways to approach this topic. Everyone’s brains process information and learn in different ways. So I will try my best to give you the advice that helped me and worked for my brain and I hope this helps you to. 

I think of it like this…

Before we are even born, we are a small bundle of cells full of information. Our genes determine what we are going to look like, what our personalities will be like, for when we are young but also as we develop into fully grown adults. For some, their genetics mean they will develop into people who are going to be big boned, small boned, be 6ft or be 4ft, put weight on their tummies or weight on their legs. Lots of who we are right now, has already been destined for us before we have the opportunity to decide whether we like it or not. Of course there are things you can change, you can lose and gain weight, you can straighten your teeth and you can get plastic surgery. But you are never going to be another human. Someone with a body structure fit for success in gymnastics- small and flexible, will never be able to change their body to be fit for success in boxing, where you want to be strong and a large build. Another example is Ashley Graham, a plus size model, is never ever going to be able to have a body similar to Candice Swanepoel. She could diet and starve herself for all of time, but her genetics declare that she has a different body type. 

When I have a down day about myself, I think about this a lot. Whatever I hate about myself, however much I dislike it. I can’t change much. At first this can be a sad thought, especially when your body is a negative thought in your mind. So you must learnt to reinforce positive behaviours and thoughts surrounding you and your body. 

I see it in step by steps, the end goal is for you to be body confident!

First you must learn that your body is your body, you can’t change it, so you might as well love your body. It’s the only one you’re ever going to have! Your hands are always going to look like that and your hips, waist etc. (Of course within reason, you are 14 and still growing. I say this in the sense of, who you are is pre determined by your genetics, you can’t get a hand transplant if you hate your hands you get me). 

Get rid of things that make you feel bad about yourself, instagram is a real culprit here. Don’t follow people that make you feel bad about yourself. I had to unfollow Alexis Ren- I have nothing bad to say about her, but her life on insta seemed so glamorous constantly flying places and always looking so beautiful. Meanwhile being stuck in cold rainy London just wishing so badly that I could go on holiday to Bora Bora(or anywhere). It puts negative thoughts in my brain, it makes me compare myself. Those kinda thoughts need to be gone! They are a breeding ground for picking yourself to pieces. Don’t feel bad about unfollowing anyone, you should never have to apologise for your mental health. If I am someone you compare yourself to, unfollow me right now.  

Start each morning with a bit of positive reinforcement, this is a little bit of fake it till you make it too. Let every day start with something good, tell yourself that you are beautiful. Look at yourself and take it all in and tell your brain and anything negative hiding in there that you love your body. Keep a list on your phone or by the mirror, and every day write one thing in there that you like about yourself. It may seem weird at first and you might struggle to come up with something, but I promise as each day goes on you it will get easier and it will make a difference. 

Wear clothes that make you feel GOOD. Find yourself some outfits that when you look in the mirror you like yourself in, take pictures of yourself in these outfits. So that if you’re ever having a down day and think you don’t look good in anything, you can reference these pictures and put on the same outfit. Knowing that you felt good about how you looked in it once, will make you feel better about it when positive thoughts are a little bit harder to muster. 

Take selfies when you feel good about yourself. You can always look back on the picture another day. It’s good to capture you when you are shining bright. But remember that how beautiful you are, doesn’t fluctuate depending on how many likes you get on a selfie. Don’t build your confidence on likes, that is fickle and that bubble will someday burst and when it does you will be back to square one. I see too many young people reaching out to feel good about themselves by posting a selfie and hoping to get likes and comments on it. 

Remember that the media and the success of some companies exist to make you feel bad about yourself. The media thrusts into our faces this image of one type of girl; tall, thin, most often white. Look around you, look at the people on the street. How often do you see that girl? Hardly ever, as I said above. People come in all different body shapes and sizes.

How healthy someone is, can not be determined from just looking at them. Some of those super healthy fitness bloggers are just as unhealthy as incredibly overweight people. The size of someones body does not tell you whether they put wonderful nutrients into their machine. 

Look at this article: How different woman look at the same weight. 

Positively reinforce yourself for all the things your body can do that don’t involve how you look. Look at your hands, they are so wonderful. They can help you do amazing things like carve wood, cook delicious food for yourself and for other people, you can make hand-made birthday cards for people, make wonderful sounds by playing piano. Look at your legs, they help you move, dancing in your room when no one is looking, they help you escape danger, you can play footsie under a table with your legs. Look at your body for all the wonderful things it helps you to do. Your body is a machine, it is a tool. The greatest ever invented! It calls to be celebrated! 

What do you mean when people say to you ‘it’s just a phase’. Are they saying it is a phase to dislike yourself?

For the people at school who are giving you a hard time, this is so cruel. Kids can be so heartbreakingly mean and I am sorry that this is being directed your way. It is so hard to ignore what they have to say, school is a large part of your life at 14 and for that environment to be a negative one it can have a big impact. If you can, tell a parent or teacher. Body worries are totally normal, it is helpful to let someone in on your worries if you are struggling. The people close to you can provide the best comfort and support. Let your friends know, don’t be scared to be vulnerable about how you feel. 

Remember body confidence is a journey, your body is a beautiful tool and it is completely unique to you. We weren’t born disliking ourselves, it’s something that was taught to us and every day is a battle to turn those learned habits off. Somedays you are gonna feel an eight, other days you’ll be a two and your brain will be clouded with doubts. Celebrate the victories and don’t worry about the falls. Surround yourself with good stuff and I promise good things will come your way. Be nice about other people’s appearances in the way you wish you people to speak about you. Love to you, so so much love and I hope this has been helpful xxxxx

anonymous asked:

Can you PLEASE do a michael one like the luke silent treatment one but FLUFF at the end? I LIVE for the sad fanfics with fluffy endings? Oh and one with michael where his gf and him fight and she has a nightmare that he left? I've been stalking your blog and i LOVE it❤❤❤

Thank you so much! :) Okay, so here’s the first half of this request about the silent treatment one. It’s not quite the same as Luke’s, but I hope you like it <3

Also, I’m back! Finally. I’m sorry if this one is kind of long and if it sucks, but I’m trying to get back into the normal routine of things. This one’s kind of just a fluffy/angsty mess, but here it is anyways! 

You quietly tip toe through the door, your book bag hanging loosely off your shoulder. It’s almost three in the morning, and the house is dark, so you assume your boyfriend, Michael, is already in bed.

You’ve overloaded yourself with courses this semester so every day after class you go straight to the library to do work and you stay there until the librarian kicks you out around 2 AM. You would come home and study, but you know that Michael likes to have the boys around to rehearse and write songs. It would be really difficult for you to concentrate with all the noise.

You kick off your shoes and gently set your book bag down by the door. You head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before you head upstairs to bed.

When you round the corner, you see a figure sitting at the kitchen table and you almost scream. You quickly realize that the figure is Michael, though, and let out a relieved sigh.

“Mikey?” You ask, your voice rough and tired. “What are you still doing up? It’s so late.”

He jumps, clearly surprised by your presence, and when he turns around you can see the faint remnants of tears on his cheeks. You immediately walk over to where he’s sitting and place yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, concern evident in your voice.

He’s silent for a few seconds, but then he suddenly pushes you off of his lap and stands up. He seems angry, and so you instinctively take a few steps back.

“Where were you?” He asks, his voice sad yet filled with what sounds like rage.

You furrow your eyebrows together in confusion. “At the library,” you answer slowly. “I texted you and told you I had to study. What’s going on?”

He laughs humorlessly. “You really expect me to believe that you’ve been at the ‘library’ all these nights?” He asks, his fingers making air quotes around the word ‘library’.

You cross your arms over your chest as you begin to get a little irritated with his behavior. “Yes, actually, I do,” you tell him. “Because it’s the truth. I’m sorry that I haven’t been home much but it’s the end of the semester and I’ve got about a million things to study for. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that my girlfriend is sneaking around behind my back and fucking other guys,” he answers harshly.

You stagger back, his words hitting you like a brick wall. You would never cheat on Michael, and to even have him believe that you would is like having your breath knocked out of you.

“At first,” he continues, “I was stupid enough to believe that you actually were studying at the library all the time. But then, you started coming home later and later, and then this morning, I found a man’s jacket in your laundry, and it isn’t mine.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s being completely ridiculous.

“You can’t even admit it, can you?” he scoffs. “Tell me who it is, (Y/N). You owe me that much.”

“I don’t owe you anything, you dick!” You yell, finally finding your voice. “I would never ever cheat on you. I actually have been at the library all of these nights, for your information. And since you clearly don’t believe me, you can feel free to go ask Mary the librarian. She’s been there every single night watching me study until the wee hours of the morning. And the jacket? I forgot to bring one with me the other night, and Mary didn’t want me to have to walk home without one, so she offered me some random jacket from the library’s lost and found. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Michael, but I can’t be in this relationship if you honestly think I’d cheat on you. I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight. I’ll worry about this tomorrow.”

A few tears are falling down your cheeks at this point, but you wipe them away and stomp out of the kitchen. Michael’s face had turned from angry to confused and then finally to guilty during your little speech, and by the time you finished, you could tell he was feeling like complete shit.

“(Y/N)!” He calls after you, his voice a different kind of sad now. “Wait! Please talk to me!”

You jog up the stairs, ignoring him as he tries many times to get you to speak to him. You’re not having it right now, though. You’re tired and cranky and ready for some much-needed sleep.

You walk into your shared bedroom and grab some pajamas out of your dresser before turning to walk back out into the hallway. Michael is using his large frame to block the doorway, though, effectively trapping you in the bedroom.

You don’t make eye contact with him. You don’t want to talk to him right now, and you don’t want to see him. His words just keep running through your head.

How can you be in this relationship if he clearly doesn’t trust you at all?

“(Y/N),” he whispers.

You can tell he’s crying, but you still don’t look up. Instead you just shove him out of the way and walk to the guest room. He could’ve easily dodged your shove and kept you trapped in the bedroom until you spoke to him, but he didn’t.

You slam the guest room door shut and lock it before getting changed into your t-shirt and shorts and climbing into bed. You let more tears fall and you slowly cry yourself to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of bacon being fried. You slowly roll over and check the clock to see that it’s already 11 AM. Thankfully, it’s a Saturday so you don’t have any classes to worry about.

You almost feel happy for a moment before you suddenly remember the fight you had with Michael last night. You glance around at the bare guest room and tears start to fall down your face once again. 

You roll out of bed and attempt to clear some of the moisture from your cheeks before you open the door. You cautiously walk into the bedroom, hoping to avoid Michael for as long as possible. Luckily, the coast is clear.

You grab a fresh shirt and a pair of leggings and take them into the bathroom with you where you take a shower and brush your teeth. By the time you’re all finished and dressed, you still look like hell. Your eyes are red and puffy from having shed even more tears in the shower. 

You groan and walk back out into the still-empty bedroom. You slowly make your way downstairs and into the kitchen where the smell of breakfast is originating.

“Hey,” Michael says softly as you walk into the kitchen. 

He seems to be in even worse shape than you, and your heart hurts for him a little. You want to wrap him in your arms and tell him that it’s all going to be okay, but you honestly aren’t sure that it will be. 

You look at the table and see that he’s made eggs and bacon for breakfast. He’s never made you breakfast before.

“I’m sorry if it sucks,” he says, glancing at the food. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

Just hearing his voice is threatening to bring on a whole new round of tears, so you quickly turn and run out of the kitchen.

“(Y/N)!” He yells, running after you.

You’ve just reached the front door and you’re about to open it when he finally catches you and grabs your arm. You try to pull out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let go.

“Please,” he whispers, his green eyes staring into yours. “Please don’t leave. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

You shake your head as more tears fall. You let go of the door handle, and he lets go of your arm when he sees that you aren’t going to leave. Almost immediately, you collapse to the floor in a fit of sobs.

You lean your back against the door and pull your knees to your chest as you try to calm yourself down. You’ve put so much time and effort and love into this relationship, and it’s killing you inside that it might end because of something so stupid.

Michael sits on the floor in front of you and places his large hands on your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “God, (Y/N), I’m such a fucking idiot and I don’t deserve you, but please, please let me make this up to you.”

You’re a full-on sobbing mess at this point, and Michael is getting more and more worried. He’s never seen you this upset before.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he continues, his voice desperate. “I was just insecure and I made up all of these scenarios in my head and convinced myself they were real. I was scared that I was losing you, (Y/N), and I’m so fucking sorry for what I said.”

You sniffle a few times as you finally start to collect yourself. You look up and see that Michael is crying silent tears now as well.

“Sorry can’t fix the fact that you don’t trust me, Michael,” you whisper. “You basically told me that you think I’m some kind of whore that’s just going around fucking guys left and right.”

“I know,” he says, lowering his head in shame. “I know, and I wish more than anything that I could take those words back, but I can’t. I know that I don’t deserve for you to give me another chance, but please, (Y/N). I love you more than anything, and I don’t know what I’d do if I let my stupid insecurities fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He immediately shakes his head. “No, no, baby please don’t say that. Don’t say that. Tell me that we can work this out. (Y/N), I need just one chance to fix this, please I-”

“Mikey,” you say, reaching your hand out to wipe away some of his tears. “That’s not what I meant. I’m apologizing for not being here these past few weeks. I’ve been drowning in my classes at school and in between all of the papers and cramming, I forgot to make time for you. There were so many nights where I’d come home and see you fast asleep in our bed and wish that I could just drop out of school and be here with you, but I can’t. I only have one year of college left, and this is something that I really want to do. I understand how hard it is not being together all the time. And I’d be lying if I said there aren’t nights when you’re on tour that I start wondering if you might have found a better girl to be with. But if I ever really thought even for a second that you might be cheating on me, I would’ve talked to you about it instead of blowing up in your face at 3 in the morning.”

Michael sits back and his eyes go wide with surprise. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he tells you. “I know how much college means to you, and I should be supportive. You’re always supporting me and the boys when we’re away and I should be doing the same for you. I’m just a really shit boyfriend sometimes, and I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s just forget this, okay?” You say. “And I’ll try to spend more time at home if you promise to not jump to conclusions anymore. Deal?” 

He nods his head eagerly as a smile stretches across his face. “I’m so lucky to have someone like you, (Y/N).”

You nod, “Mhmm, and don’t you forget it.”