idk if i'll be home in time to watch it though

Xiumin as your boyfriend

- headcanons that nobody asked for but everyone wants 11/10

The Beginnings:

  • He strikes me as the type of person to want to have a pretty steady bond with someone before dating them.
  • You two would likely start out as good if not flirty friends, but after some time he’d give in to his feelings and take you on a date.
  • It’d be something simple but cute, either Starbucks or a walk in the park and then going to a food-truck. Idk anything he thinks up on the spot that means you’d get to know each other better so probs not a movie.

After dating a while:

  • Somehow he’d know everything about you, since he’s such a trustworthy person you’d end up telling him new random little things about you most every day.
  • Speaking of trustworthy, you’d have only one Relationship Groundrule: no getting jealous unless there was something to be jealous about.
  • Meaning, he wouldn’t care who your friends are, you wouldn’t care who he’s hanging with, neither of you would ever be worried about the other cheating etc.
  • He’s just such an honest and sincere person I can’t imagine him ever not taking a relationship seriously and fucking behind your back.
  • For your first anniversary he’d take you somewhere special, maybe even splash out on a weekend away or something romantic.
  • He’d constantly feel guilty when he has to leave for tour or concerts, even if he would only be gone a couple days.
  • Even after you reassure him you don’t mind and that you’d soon see each other again, he’d pout and cuddle into you. He misses you and wants to be with you all the time.
  • This is a good time to mention; he is quite clingy.
  • Minseok would cherish and crave being with you. He’s not intense to be with like the beagle line thankfully, he’s gentle and relaxing to have around.
  • Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments.
  • Every now and then he has a “mad 5 minutes” and he laughs and teases and pokes you, making a total bellend of himself tbh whilst you try and fail to keep a straight face.

Habits and other shit:

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he likes to read

(this wants with all its heart to be a multichapter fic but i need instant gratification sooo)


He likes to read.

He likes to read and Kent likes him, and he really doesn’t know what to do about this fact.

Kent ran into him – well, ran past him, really – on a morning jog, in a usually deserted area of the community park where trees have been planted and are carefully watered to give the appearance of a verdant, lush grove in the middle of sunny, dusty Nevada. He was standing against a tree and reading, and when Kent jogged back to ask what he was doing, the man laughed and pointed to his book. Walden.

Kent’s never read it. The man shrugs. “It’s about a man who gave up his whole life to go live in the woods,” he says. “I used to go to Walden Pond and re-read it once a summer. But now I’m here and, well… this is as close to the woods as I can get.”

His name is James. He’s a high school English teacher. He shakes Kent’s sweaty hand and asks his name, what he does for a living.

Kent blinks at him hard. “You…” he starts. He was about to say, you don’t know?

“Me? You do me?” James cracks a smile. “Is that a pick-up line?”

His smile is sunny, and Kent breaks a little bit inside. He finds himself quickly enough to say, “Would it work?”

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anonymous asked:

I'm watching the sound of music and it got my thinking about a stony au lol Steve or Tony as the Father of all the little shit avengers

You know I’ve been stewing over this because either of them could be Georg Von Trapp, but I’ve finally decided: It’s Steve.

Steve, whose wife died (Peggy? Sharon? Nameless Female Character?), and he has all these children that she bore or adopted and he doesn’t know how to relate to them or properly care for them–Bruce has anger issues, Thor and Loki are either the best of friends or at each others’ throats with no in-between, Clint won’t do anything unless he’s ordered to, Natasha is even quieter than usual, Sam is trying to hold all the kids together, and Scott keeps looking at everyone with confusion because his mommy’s gone. Steve enacts the strict military discipline out of desperation–he doesn’t know what else to do. And he’s–he’s so different since his wife died, the kids are kind of–kind of afraid of him. Steve didn’t used to be like this.

Enter Tony, who fled to the convent from Obadiah after his parents had died (or been killed idk). But he doesn’t really fit in. He’d been religious as far as ‘Mom makes me go to church’ but not actually spiritual. He tries to do as he’s told! But he just wasn’t made for it, he guesses. Unfortunately he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go, so he keeps trying. The Mother Abbess character sees this and appreciates this, but decides that Tony would be happier elsewhere and he should be safe enough at an estate as big and walled off as Captain Rogers’s, so sends him to be the kids’ nanny and tutor. (Tony had been a good student until his parents died. He has plenty to teach.)

Tony is appalled by how strict Steve is but understands that different families have different ways of doing things BUT LOKI PUT A FROG IN HIS POCKET AH. “You’re lucky,” Pepper, the housekeeper, tells him. “Last time it was a snake.” Tony is going to kick all of these kids’ asses but nicely. So at supper he thanks them for the gift, because obviously he’d been a little scared and lonely, coming into a new home with people he didn’t know. (Loki, Clint, and Scott cry. Steve wants to scold Tony but he’d actually sounded very sincere. Steve has no idea what’s going on. “Daddy, you’re squinting,” Natasha tells him. “You’re not handsome like that.” Steve squawks, but he doesn’t squint suspiciously at everyone anymore either, so.)

There’s a storm. Tony nearly flings his book out the window when Scott bursts into the room in tears. He brings Scott in for a cuddle, dries his tears, tells him it’s alright. Scott just sobs and clings to him. Tony is about to reassure him further when Natasha, Clint, and Loki appear at his door in various states of distress. (Natasha looks as straight-faced as ever but she’s there so she must be frightened somehow, Tony reasons.) He invites them all onto the bed with him to wait until the storm dies down. “Now all we have to do is wait for the older boys,” Tony says, and Loki scoffs. “You won’t catch them in here. They’re too big to be scared.” Lightning crashes. Bruce and Thor appear at the door. Tony hides a smile behind his hand and says, “I don’t suppose you were scared.” Bruce awkwardly wipes his glasses on his shirt. Thor simply replies, “I was searching for Loki because storms frighten him!” Loki hisses at him like an angry cat, but then there’s the roll of thunder, and Bruce and Thor leap onto the bed so swiftly that Tony’s actually impressed.

“Why does the sky do that?” Scott sniffles. “Well,” Tony starts, rubbing his back, and then decides he can start teaching them now, since that’s technically what he’s there for, and he explains thunder, lightning, and what causes those specific kinds of storms. Steve happens upon them when he goes to do his final check of his children for the night and finds them all gone from their beds. “It’s past your bedtime,” he tells them sternly, instead of You were all gone and I was so scared or Why didn’t you come to me? The kids all slide off of Tony’s bed, disappointed but understanding, and trudge past Steve to go to bed, no longer afraid of the storm. “Daddy!” Scott crows, tugging at his pocket. Steve squats in front of him. “Yes, Scott?” “Mr. Tony told us why the sky makes those big noises!” Scott tells him guilelessly. “The lightning leaves a hole and then the hole makes noise!” “That’s great, Scott,” Steve says, and Scott beams proudly. “But it’s time to go to bed.” “Goodnight Daddy!” Scott replies obediently and then runs off to his room.

“I hope I didn’t overstep,” Tony says hurriedly as Steve stands, stone-faced. “He just came in and I–I wanted to make the thunder less scary for them.” “You did a good job, Tony,” Steve managed, even though jealousy was a thick weight in the pit of his stomach, because why would his children run to Tony instead of him? He was trying his hardest. “I was on my way up to see you,” he adds, not a total lie. “I’ve got to go out of town. Business.” “Oh,” Tony says, and is kind of terrified of being basically in charge of seven children. “Oh, okay.” “Pepper will know how to reach me if there’s a problem,” Steve adds, the jealousy soothed at the momentary look of horror that crosses Tony’s face, even though it’s an unfairly cute face.

inspired by this, so special shoutout to @thirstyalec <3

( @mcgnus-bane @catharinaloss @patronusmagnus @magnificentbane @alecsagitta @peittorosvo @thedownworld @sapphicclary )


Alec wakes up with dread clouding the edges of his mind, the nightmare still clinging to his thoughts. He doesn’t really remember what happened in it, just the helplessness and fear it brought out in him. Usually waking up like this pushes him out of balance, has him trying to shake the lingering darkness for the entire day.

Today though, his mind clears and his body warms from the inside out at the feeling of Magnus pressed up against his back, a steady arm wrapping around him and resting on his stomach. Alec takes in the silence of the early morning, the warmth of the first rays of sunlight coming through the curtains, the presence of the man he loves, the man who loves him back, and his heart is so close to bursting with content, with a sense of right.

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I'll Show You (Part 3) - Theo Raeken Imagine

A/N: Idk how I feel about this part, it was kinda rushed but hopefully you guys will like it. (: Also part 4 will pick up from where this ended. Ps. sorry for the bad quality of the gif.

[Masterlist]


Note: Part 1, Part 2
Pairing: Theo x Reader
Warning: SMUT and cursing, I think that’s it? 
Word count: 1798


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everything

— ღ   —

It’s late, the nursery nearly pitch black but for the soft, faint purple-ish glimmer of the nightlight in the corner.

Emma can just barely tell where he is in the dark of the small room, but she knows he’s here with them —he always is.

He’s sat on the floor, she knows, uncomfortable as can be, but unmovable just the same. His back against the closet’s door, legs unfolded in front of him, his face in his hand.

It’s been a long day; a day of waiting, a day of worrying and pacing and sickness abounds.

They are home now though, have been for a few hours, and while the little bundle in Emma’s arms has been asleep and settled for almost as many hours as they’ve been home, there’s nothing humanly capable of separating them from their daughter right now.

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Dancing in the Dark (With You Between my Arms)

So, I did it. Blame it on Ed and his wonderful songs/video clips.

Dedicated to @the-emerald-daisy. I don’t know if this is domestic enough for you, but… at least it’s 100% fluff haha. Anyways, I hope you’ll like this :)

(I have to admit though, this is a bit – a lot lmao? – cheesy but… I couldn’t help it. I just hope it won’t be too much :’))

Also, the video I’m putting with this is just a part for a multicouples collab vid I’m doing with other editors on YouTube and since it’s the same song and Peraltiago… I figured I could share it here, if someone’s interested! (The whole vid hasn’t been uploaded yet so I can’t share it unfortunately.)

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

As someone who gets cold quite easily, it’s obvious that Amy Santiago doesn’t like the snow.

Well, it’s not really that she doesn’t like it – she does find it beautiful, those millions of little flakes falling from the sky and turning everything white on their way as they pile up on the ground – but she’d rather enjoy this view from indoors, a blanket covering her body and a cup of hot chocolate in her hands as she lazily watches it through her window with her fiancé by her side than having to actually be outside under such a bad weather. Something that tends to happen a lot, unfortunately, given her job and how it requires for her and the rest of the squad to always leave their precinct and go out on the field for one reason or another.

Why she asked Jake to engage in a slow dance in the middle of the streets of Brooklyn past midnight under the first snow of the year in that month of November is still a mystery then.

They were quietly walking towards their car hand-in-hand after having some drinks (three, to be exact, for her – and none for him, as he was the one driving them home that night) at Shaw’s with their friends and colleagues to celebrate another closed case when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. She’d heard some music coming from one of the apartments above as someone up there had opened a window to smoke during what must have been some party, and that’s all it took for the idea to creep into her mind. She turned towards her fiancé, a huge, playful grin lighting her features in the dark of the cloudy night, and took his second hand in hers to pull him closer to her chest.

He raised a confused eyebrow at her as she started encircling his neck with her arms, but didn’t complain for all that, even letting his own hands find their place at her waist instinctively. He still asked, though, “What are you doing?”

“We better get started on practicing for our wedding dance right now,” she shrugged, her smile even brighter now that she let the words out. “And I like this song, it kind of reminds me of us,” she went on confessing.

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anonymous asked:

How about... headcanons for a reader who's a musician? Like, the type that plays in symphonies and orchestras (wait are those the same thing?) and stuff! Do you think Credence would like, want to learn about music too?

(orchestras play symphonies :-)) but absolutely, babe, let’s see:

  • you never really thought too much about playing your instrument or being a part of an orchestra until credence
  • you of course loved to play and were passionate about it, but your parents had signed you up for lessons and the rest was history
  • so when credence starts to ask about how you got into it you’re kind of stunned for a minute because you’ve just,,, always played
  • and so you tell him that your parents had wanted you to have a wide range of skills and helped you find your interests, and you’d loved playing since you started
  • credence is kind of quiet for a while because he hadn’t had parents who had let him explore his interests so he doesn’t know how to respond
  • the closest he’d come to playing an instrument was tentatively tapping the keys to the piano in the church
  • but mary lou had always yelled at him for that, so that never really went anywhere either
  • you let the silence stretch for a few moments and start to play him one of your favorite pieces so that the silence is filled and he won’t feel awkward
  • credence just watches you and smiles as your eyes close and it becomes how clear you get lost in your music
  • after that, he loves to talk to you about your favorite music and what interests you and the passion you have for it is contagious
  • when it comes time for one of your performances, of course you invite credence, who has taken to watching you practice in the evenings after dinner and sometimes even early in the mornings before everyone else is awake
  • (credence also comes to every performance that follows this one)
  • he has a wonderful time and can’t take his eyes off of you, even though he knows there are all those other people playing
  • none of them have the same pull on him as you do, and he loves the way the music fills the whole room, all those songs you’ve been practicing
  • but he can still pick your sound and instrument over the others that have joined you now
  • he buys you a huge bouquet of roses and tells you how well you played and you smile and tell him how glad you are that he could come listen to you
  • you blush so deeply when your friends in the orchestra tell you that you look just as happy looking at “that boy you brought” as you do when you play your instrument with them
  • you hope credence doesn’t overhear
  • he does but he won’t say anything
  • it’s pretty late by the time you go home, and you’re struggling to stay awake after all the commotion, but you wake right up when credence says he wants to show you something
  • he gently sits you on the couch (where he usually sits to watch you play) and walks over to the piano
  • you: :o
  • he takes a deep breath and you smile when you see his frame get firmer, taking the droop from his shoulders and showcasing the broad slope of them instead
  • he begins to play–a simple and beautiful song you remember telling him, early on in one of your first conversations, that you loved
  • your jaw drops and you can’t seem to close your mouth and instead just stride over to sit next to him on the bench and watch his long fingers glide over the keys
  • he has an expression you recognize easily, of passion and pure bliss, lost to the moment that the music brings
  • as the song begins to taper off, you lean your head on his shoulder and find his hand as you tell him how beautiful that was
  • he starts to tell you about the piano in the church that he had wanted to play and how the conversations and times he spent with you reminded him about it
  • so he had found someone to teach him a little and had learned to play that and had been nervous to show you
  • you tell him that you understand the nerves but that he had played so beautifully that he could have been a professional for all you knew
  • from that point on, you two play your instruments together in the mornings and evenings
  • friends often come to hear you play because, individually, you two each sound beautiful, but when you play together, there’s just a new passion that touches everyone in the room, even if they’re strangers
  • and that’s how you fall in love–through music and how it has that unbelievable power to bring people together
  • it feels fluid, and you two never really make it a big deal because it just feels natural
  • and you never stop playing music together, even write a few pieces together, which is how you discover how well credence can actually sing, and how expressive his voice is when he uses it
  • and your voice compliments it well, and playing music with you never ceases to be the times that you two feel closest to each other
Happy Birthday, Elise!

It was halfway through the morning in Valla that particular day when the High Prince of Hoshido requested an audience with the Crown Prince of Nohr.

“What is all this formality, Prince Ryoma?” Xander asked as they both sat on the stone floor of an abandoned cathedral built in honor of Anankos, now in ruins. The nohrian  prince sat over the steps between the transept and the chancel as the hoshidan royal purposely put himself on the lower ground.

Ryoma wasn’t wearing his armor. He placed his Raijinto and his kodachi on his right side in respect of Prince Xander and sat formal style, showing every kind of vulnerability he found possible. After a few seconds of silence, Xander began to wonder if Ryoma had heard him at all and meant to repeat his question.

He was, however, cut off. “I have called you here in regards of the future of both of our kingdoms once this war is done and won.” Ryoma began, his voice deep and unfaltering; his eyes looking at the ground beside Xander’s feet. “Regarding ways to further strengthen the bonds between our lands and families.”

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anonymous asked:

Not sure if you're a fan of superwave if not then no need to fill, but superwave meeting up after a long time maybe with some hurt/comfort thrown in?

its a ship i’m on the fence about but honestly, i pretty much love mick with anyone who’ll be sweet with him and hold him tight.

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KagoMay Drabble: First Episode Comparison

eA/N: I thought it’d be interesting to compare when Inuyasha and Kagome initially met to when they got married. More of an excuse to just load a prompt up for Kagomay. But it was the only thing I could think of for a drabble. “How did you get into Inuyasha?” Well I saw the 1st episode and it was all sorta downhill from there. Or up in my opinion…;)


Wife.

Kagome was making her way through her husband’s namesake forest, stumbling through the foliage with the grace of a porcupine in the jungle. Her sandal hit a stubborn boulder making her stop in one quick fluid motion, “Ouch!!!”

“What did you do this time, stupid?”

She shot a scolding glance at Inuyasha but his words betrayed his actions and he was already knelt down inspecting the poorly-offended foot in question. The nail was chipped at the edge and a dribble of blood was drawing a line down to her bare soles.

“This is why I told you to cover your damn feet.” Inuyasha grumbled as he reached down to yank the foot up, catching Kagome when she fell backwards. After being married for little over twenty-four hours, Kagome only crossed her arms in a silent pout as she starred at the sky through the veins of the green branches. Although usually she’d squeal in protest and surprise, now she half-expected it. Of course he would just lift her foot like it was no big deal and then catch her on the drop before she split her head on another rock.

“The socks in this era reach up too high for this weather.” She reasoned.

“Well tell that to your broken toe,” Inuyasha burrowed his hand down Kagome’s pant pocket, looking for the piece of cloth she routinely brought along to carry the berries and nuts they were looking for.

“It’s not broken.”

“Maybe this time it isn’t.”

“Inuyasha,” Kagome deadpanned, “A sock isn’t going to save me from a broken toe.” 

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She’s basically in his lap on the driver’s seat.  He thinks about how funny it would be to end up in custody twice in one day, once for murder accusations, once for reckless driving.  He’s sure all his buddies would be happy to see him again, Whiting would be overjoyed.  The image of Whiting in his brain is a major turn off though, so he doesn’t even humor that thought anymore.  He just hopes he can keep the wheels in between the lines as she drops sloppy kisses all over him, his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his jaw…

She smells like hospital again.  He hates it.  But there’s something else, that hint of gunsmoke clinging to her shirt, what remains of her familiar perfume, the one that smells like a sunny day.  She’s coming back to him, the Kensi that they both know and miss.  Setbacks, like being kidnapped and betrayed by a friend, and barely escaping murder charges, and depression, and incomplete spinal injuries, they’re nothing for them.  Because in the end, they’re here, together, living, breathing, kissing, almost wrecking…

He swerves the car back into the road.  His heart’s racing, not from the driving hazard, from her laugh.  It’s so beautiful.  And seeing her smile, it drives him crazy.  He turns into their driveway, and he’s pretty sure he’s destroyed his transmission when he jerks his car into park and grabs her, pulling her completely onto his lap.  The stitches on her forehead kinda remind him of a sexy Frankenstein, and he tells her so.  She throws her head back and laughs, saying, “I should probably be offended by that.”

“No no no no,” he chides, grinning as he kisses her and grabs her ass, feeling her gasp against his lips when he kisses her.  "Emphasis on sexy.“  His fingers caress under the hem of her shirt, low on her back, and she shivers.  He kisses her forehead and opens the door for her, saying, “Come on, monster.”  

The day seemed to stretch on for years, and as they approach the end of it, he remembers feeling younger 24 hours ago.  Kensi rests her head against his shoulder as he unlocks the door.  She presses her body against his and he backs up a step so that she’s against the front door.  He turns around in her arms, looking down at her, wondering how he got so lucky.  Her eyes are bright with love and want.  It about drives him insane, the way she looks at him.

He kisses her lips, softly, slowly, and he can almost feel her melting into him.  She brings her arm around his neck, kissing him harder, and he scoops her up, making sure she’s not pressed against the door knob.They’ve only had sex twice since the helicopter crash, once the first night she spent out of the hospital.  But she was tired and insecure about her injuries and even though he joked about it being good dexterity practice, her mind was somewhere else.  The last time was new years, when their midnight kiss turned into a frenzied pile of drunkenness that he barely can recall.  Other than that, his Kensi always seems absent, like her soul’s slipping, wandering away.

But she’s back, he can tell.  The taste of being back in the field, even if it resulted in a taser to the stomach and slaps to the face and zipties, has pulled her back to him.

Field Kensi is his Kensi, so different, willing, wild.  He’s missed her.  He’s missed that hint of gunpowder.  

They almost make it to the couch.  But not quite.  He holds onto her waist and she puts most of her body weight on the knee that’s still a little numb.  Hearing the noises she makes after so long put him on the edge almost immediately, but he tries to find some source of stamina, even though it’s nearly impossible with her.  When he finally lets go, she’s looking back at him, her dark eyes smoldering, her mouth painted into an O shape.  He pulls her with him, sitting back as she shudders, holding her tighter than he thinks he ever has before.  Going from having sex almost every day to barely averaging once a month left him famished.  He realizes that he hasn’t been whole without her.  

She speaks exactly what he was thinking, “I didn’t realize how much I missed that.”

“We’re really good, aren’t we?” he asks, and she snorts.  "Seriously, we’d be millionaires if you’d just let me–“

“We’re not making a sex tape.”    

“But Ray J ain’t got nothing on me.”

“True.”

“So–”

“No.  Sorry.”  She’s laughing, and it’s beautiful, watching her.  She sighs and rests her head back, using his chest like a recliner. 

He strokes the damp, curling pieces of hair from her forehead.  "Have I ever told you that you’re gorgeous?“

He loves being the cause of the blush that starts to color her cheeks, and he kisses her jaw.  "A few times,” she answers, grinning.  "You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.“  

He gives it his best valley girl impersonation and draws out, “Thaaaanks.”  She elbows him, but it doesn’t hurt.  "We might be gorgeous, but we nasty.  We need a shower.“

“You’re right.  But I don’t want to move.“

He grabs her tight, holding her like a groom holds his bride, and she squeals as she laughs.  He grunts as he picks her up, ignoring how tired his body is.  They shower together and she messes with his hair as she runs conditioner threw it, attempting to give him a mohawk.  Things feel normal again.  Her heart’s where it used to be and her service weapon is waiting on her nightstand to be picked up in the morning.  She tries to ignore the dull aching of her head, and the marks from the zip ties.  She’d almost rubbed her wrists raw trying to escape. But she made it.  She escaped.  She proved that she was capable of saving her ass and other people’s.  Deeks was okay, because he got to shoot Sullivan in the end.  The sting of betrayal hurts, but Deeks is like morphine to her, and she can forget.  

She’s seriously tired.  The doctors had given her pain medication before she could think about denying it, and she tries to ignore the drowsiness.  She wants to be awake with Deeks for awhile.  Also, she thinks she’s hungrier than she is tired, and realizes she hasn’t ate since breakfast, which was about 9 in the morning.  It was almost midnight.  She’s pretty sure Deeks hasn’t had much either.  "Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m starving.”  

He grins, a little sheepish as he admits, “Same.”  He brushes her jaw with his thumb, saying, “You know, I was gonna pick food up on the way home.  But something was distracting me.”  

She rolls her eyes.  He turns off the shower and wraps her in a towel before starting to dry himself off.  "I guess I’ll go find us some food.  That is, if you think you can live without me for a few minutes.“  

"I think I’ll manage.”  She grins, but the slight waver of her expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him when she says, “Lock the doors.”

He nods, serious for only a second.  "Monty will protect you.“  He calls for the greying mutt and pats for him to come up on the bed, where she’s found a spot, her feet curled around one of their soft throws.  He double locks the doors when he leaves and makes sure the sensor light is working.  His Beretta is tucked into the small of his back.  Paranoid, maybe.  But a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone.  Except for the people that don’t listen when told ‘No sudden movements.’

He starts his car and shrugs behind the steering wheel, not quite sure where to go for food.  He settles for a 24 hour Mediterranean place that’s close to the house and has killer falafels.  Only in LA is there a never-closing falafel shack.  He gets a dozen falafels for them to share and a big kielbasa salad, pretty positive that Kensi will end up with most of the food.  Or worse, she’ll use all the tahini and eat the good parts of the salad.  He grins at the thought, knowing that it doesn’t matter what type of food it is, as long as he’s eating with her.  Plus, he can give her hell about it in front of the guys at work.  Not like it’ll do any good though.  

He makes up his mind in the car ride home as he thinks about watching her stumble out of the place they were holding her earlier that day, zipties still on her wrist, blood trickling down her jaw and forehead, limping like he’d seen her do too many times before, in the desert, cult headquarters, away from car accidents, fights, hospitals, that he’s proposing tomorrow.  He doesn’t know how or where or why, exactly, all he knows is that he loves her.  He loves her, and she deserves everything in the world.  Including the truth.

He unlocks the door and locks it behind him, and takeout bag still in hand, starts sweeping the place for bugs.  She comes down to see what’s taking him so long to get upstairs, wearing only one of his worn LAPD t-shirts, and he swears he almost proposes right there, in the middle of the living room.  He needs it to be official like he needs air in his lungs.  But he forces away the urge for the moment, not acknowledging the question on her lips.  "What…?”

“I gotta tell you something,” he eventually says, after he’s checked everything.  He sets the bag of food on the coffee table for her.  Even though he’s starving, food isn’t at the forefront of his mind.  He guesses it isn’t on hers either, because she walks right past the bag to him, placing her palm against his chest.

"What?“ she asks again, softly.  He looks down into her eyes, gets lost, and then finds himself.  He sits down on the couch, pulling her down with him.  

"What happened that night, with Boyle.  My partner.”  He watches her reaction, feeling nervous, his heart fluttering in his chest.  "I think you should know.“

"You don’t have to tell me.”  

"I know.  I want to.“  He swallows, feels the truth he’s hidden for years at the back of his throat, forcing its way up.  "I have to tell somebody.”

She nods, like she understands.  Also, like she’s seeing him for the first time.  Like she’s about to put all of his pieces together, and see the end result.  "I have questions,” she admits, cocking her head slightly.

“And you deserve the answers.”  The weight he’s been carrying around is already subsiding.  "I’m tired of hiding.“  

She asks who Tiffany is to him, and why he did it.  I had to protect her.  She was just some lost kid, just a girl.  I had to protect her.  She asks how.  I had every detail planned.  None of it was an accident.  I knew what he was going to do, and I couldn’t let him.  She asks when he knew what he had to do.  When she came to me, begging me to help her, saying he’d never stop, not until she was in a ditch somewhere.  She asks what it felt like, killing him.  Like losing a part of yourself.

When it’s done, she thinks she understands.  How chaotic his gestalt is, the obscurity of his past, the means he will go to trying to protect the people that can’t protect themselves.  That last part is what makes him a terrible cop and the best cop there ever was.  A cop that will commit terrible acts in the effort to save a life.  A cop that will give everything he’s ever had.  His reputation, his dignity, his humanity.  She touches his face, and he looks so vulnerable to her.  Just as vulnerable as he did asleep on his cat pillow years ago.  "It’s okay.”  She closes her eyes, pressing her forehead against his.  "It’s okay.“  

He buries his face into her collarbone.  He thinks about when he thought he knew her, riding dirt bikes in the desert, pulling her through lasers when the Russians got a hold of her, walking in on her wearing only a towel at their cover house, kissing her on the motorcycle.  "I love you so much.”

“I love you too.“  It kinda scares her, knowing how much she loves him, knowing she could never stop loving him.  Not for anything in the world.  "It’s over.”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod, and tries to shake off the day, the years of carrying that weight, the past and all of its darkness.

"Let’s just eat and go to bed.  I’m ready for today to be over with.“

"Me too, baby.”  He hopes that tomorrow will be the start of a new, happier chapter in his life, and that his pocket won’t carry the weight of the box anymore.  The thought of the ring on her finger makes him smile.  He’s sure all the rest will just fall into place.

What’s this? Tangy writes original things? (Only when she can’t help it)

For those who asked for it, my short story for my advanced workshop class. A witch and a fairy have joint custody over a couple’s firstborn. 


Good Seeds

(Or What Happens When You Promise Your Firstborn)

The folk of Creeping Spearwort liked to refer to it as the day Coriander started keeping Wisteria. In the years since, the very mention of Wisteria became a colloquial phrase that meant, as much as anything, the promise of summer coming soon to the northern lakeside village. To Creeping Spearwort, it was a sign as infallible as the lengthening of days and the budding of leaves.

Wisteria should be coming in this month.

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Sam Calling (A SPN Fanfic)

OOC: This one is super rough and I’m not at all happy with any of it from a writer’s perspective, but I figured what the hell! Might as well post it. It’s got some harsh Dean in it, but it smooths out near the end. Unbeta’d, so sorry for any mistakes or typos.  EDITED FOR TIMELINE ISSUES so If you see “10 years” and not 5 that is in error. |D

Summary:  “ It’s not like Dean waits for a call, thinks maybe one of these days Sam’ll be that sappy-eyed guy who can’t help but dial in and see what’s going on. But then, Sam didn’t bother writing letters or leaving messages when he was at Stanford, so… So fuck it. It’s done. That’s all she wrote.” Sam walks out on Dean after Gadreel. AU, not featuring the MoC. 

Warnings: character death, grief, grumpy negative dean (haha)



The bunker has been quiet for a long time. Dean hasn’t bothered keeping track of much, but he does know it’s been at least five years. Five years since Sam walked out after Gadreel, five years since he had told Dean he wasn’t coming back to this place, five years since Dean heard Sam’s voice. Which is fine by Dean — if this was enough to rip apart everything they’d built? This mistake? Then fine. He has enough guilt to feed a small village for a few years; he told Sam he was poison, and Sam listened. Good. Good for him. It’s not like Dean waits for a call, thinks maybe one of these days Sam’ll be that sappy-eyed guy who can’t help but dial in and see what’s going on. But then, Sam didn’t bother writing letters or leaving messages when he was at Stanford, so… So fuck it. It’s done. That’s all she wrote.

Cas stops by a lot, nudges him to look for Sam. Tells him Sam’s just upset and trying to find himself, probably. And god, Dean gets it, you know? He gets it. He fucked up; he’s just — selfish enough to wish Sam would just build a bridge and get over it, and he knows that’s shitty, and he knows it’s more complicated than just lying to Sam innocently. It was Sam’s worst nightmare. It was worse than dying. Kevin was gone. And that was Dean’s fault, no matter how much Sam beat himself up over that… that was on him. He might as well have burned the eyes from the kid’s head himself, with how much trust he depended on from him. How much he just expected everything to go smoothly, with a potential killer listening in the next room. He dreams about it a lot, wakes up screaming because he’s dreaming about putting a blade through Sam’s heart, or sometimes thinking Sam’s been abducted again… but it’s just that Sam’s gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

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I'll Protect You
  • Summary: Dan needed someone to save him, and Phil wanted to be that someone.
  • Genre: idk like drabble, one shot, kinda thing. angst and fluff, yo. (trigger warning-ish. abuse and subtle mentions of self harm.)
  • Pairing: lol that’s a stupid question, it’s Phan.
  • Words: 1896

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tonkola  asked:

You talked aboUT A FIELD DAY AND I'M SORRY YOU'RE SO TIRED BUT I'VE JUST IMAGINED A LOT OF TINY AND CUTIE BABIES BEING PRECIOUS AND HAPPY TOGETHER WHICH LED TO A CAROLINE IS KLAUS' NIECE/NEPHEW'S KINDERGARTEN TEACHER AND ONE DAY HE GOES PICK HER/HIM UP AND HE'S HELLA SMITTEN AFFFFF FOREVER AND EVER AND THEY GET MARRIED AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER !!!!!!!!! AU ANd basically Idk if you're still taking those prompts for Klaroweek but yeaaaaaaaaaaaah. LOVE YOU I'LL LEAVE YOU NOW.


This is all human cause there are children involved.

When Rebekah had come to him at sixteen, pregnant and kicked out of the family home, Klaus had known there wasn’t much else for him to do but step up and become the brother that she needed. He had made it clear though that he expected her to finish school, to be an active parent and to make sure that her priorities were straight once she had told him she wanted to keep the baby. It wasn’t just to prove to their parents that they could make it just fine out in the world without them but the giant fuck you that the two of them being successful in business and family life was something neither of the siblings could pass up.

Rebekah had graduated high school and was currently in her second year of community college. Usually she was the one who participated in Luke’s preschool functions but it was finals week and there was no way she could make it to the annual field day that the school was having. Thankfully all Klaus had to do was ensure Luke had the required towel and was sufficiently dressed and sunscreened when he dropped him off in the morning and then pick him back up three hours later when the event was over. THAT he could do. He had no plans to stay and be a volunteer, Rebekah had done enough of that over the school year that they weren’t going to be expecting him to.

Which was why he showed up in his business attire with Luke in tow at the front of the school with the other ninety or so parents and children waiting to be signed in for the day. It was double the usual amount of children being there at the time but Klaus was impressed with the way that the teachers and aides seemed to be checking to make sure kids had everything they needed, got the kids signed in, put the volunteers to work and had the kids parcelled into groups for the day. It went far smoother than anything he remembered from his school days or even business functions he’d attended.

“Ms. Caroline!” Luke called out, waving frantically at someone and Klaus turned his attention toward where his nephew was looking. 

Thank god he was wearing sunglasses because there was no way he could stop himself from looking the young woman over who was currently bent down, adding some more water bottles into a cooler. It had to be illegal to wear those shorts with those legs because Klaus couldn’t seem to stop staring at them until she turned around at the mention of her name and he noted the fact that she was wearing one of the school’s t-shirts designating her as either one of the teachers or assistants. Was it his fault that she seemed to fill that out really well too?

“Hi Luke,” Caroline greeted with a bright smile and then a hug as the little boy practically crashed into her arms. “You must be the infamous uncle that we’re always hearing about.”

“Klaus Mikaelson.” He offered his hand, wanting nothing more than to be able to touch her, to feel her skin and considering the situation they were currently in a handshake was going to have to do. For the moment anyway.

“Caroline Forbes. Luke’s teacher.” Klaus didn’t think he had ever seen someone smile quite like she did before though the one she had offered him was nothing like the one she had directed toward his nephew. The genuineness wasn’t quite there that time, it was more polite than anything, and he felt himself wanting to earn one of the other ones. “I hope Rebekah isn’t stressing too much. I remember finals week but she’s been working hard all year. She’s got this.”

“It’s her last one today but I am sure she’ll be delighted to hear that you’ve said that.” Klaus followed her over to the clipboard sign in, Luke skipping at his side.

“She’ll do great. You just need to sign him in here,” Caroline handed him the board and took Luke’s towel from him. “And you guys have already written his name on it so you’re ahead of the game. And I see you’ve brought a Baymax one.”

“Oooh! Oooh! Watch what we can do, Ms. Caroline!” Luke pulled on Klaus’ shirt and the two proceeded to do the handshake from the movie, earning another of those coveted smiles from her.

“You can go join Max’s group for today, Luke,” Caroline told the little boy who happily took off toward his best friend, leaving the two adults to finish up. “Pick up is at 11 and I’ll have him and a few of the others at the gate ready to go.”

“I’ll be volunteering, love,” Klaus told her, trying not to show his shock when he realized what he’d just said.

“Are you sure?” Caroline looked him over, no doubt noting the suit he was wearing that really wasn’t field day attire.

“There’s absolutely nothing else that I’d like to do today,” Klaus told her, even more surprised at how much he meant it.

Caroline handed him another clipboard and had him sign up on it as well before the gate was finally closed. “I’ll show you to your station then.”

“How long have you been teaching?” Klaus asked, as they headed toward the field that was already set up for the day, the children sitting in rows and eager to start the day.

“It’s my first year,” Caroline told him before stopping at the slip’n’slide. “So this will be yours to monitor. Do I have to explain how it works to you?”

“I remember this from my childhood, sweetheart, but thank you.” Klaus removed his jacket and hung it up on the fence behind him, noting that she had been watching him rather intently do that before looking away.

“There’s water in the white ice chest and popsicles in the green one. The kids will be going to those as stations but feel free to get one whenever you need one. We’re doing seven minute rotations and you won’t have kids for two of them,” Caroline told him. “Just wave one of us down if you need help but me and the other teachers plus the assistants will be moving around to oversee everything.”

Klaus nodded and watched her walk away, still grateful for the sunglasses he was wearing.

The first group of kids arrived at his station and stared at the slip’n’slide before looking at him. “What do we gotta do?” one of the boys asked and Klaus tried to explain it but they simply stared at him, not really understanding.

He didn’t think his instructions were all that difficult but he could see Caroline watching and figured that this was definitely a way to make a decent impression on her. Even if his dignity might be taking a nose dive.

“Like this,” Klaus told them and proceeded to run and then slide across the grass on the wet slip’n’slide, completely wetting his suit. He stood up at the end, the children were laughing and lining up to do the same, but it was Caroline’s reaction that he was focused on the most.

She was smiling, one of those genuine, beautiful ones that had been directed at Luke and Klaus felt his heart squeeze tightly at that, wanting more of them.

Three hours later and Klaus was thoroughly exhausted. His suit was definitely ruined from how often he’d needed to show the damn station but when Caroline slid her number over to him on a scrap of paper when he signed Luke out it was definitely worth it.

Preference #8: Helping out your child.
  • Anonymous: could you do something that involves kids?? idk i just need something much thx
  • Michael: Both you and Michael sat on either side of your daughter, your hand intertwined with hers as you were sitting in the principals office at her school. "Mr. and Mrs.Clifford, it has come to our attention that Stella has become a disturbance in her classroom. Her hair colours.. Are not natural." You exchanged eye contact with Michael, his face in disbelief as he scoffed with genuinely humoured. "And that's a problem.. because.." He stated, expecting a more clear answer. The principal simply straightened his stance, folding his hands together. "The problem is that it's disrupting the learning environment." Michael rolled his eyes, standing up and positioning his arm in order to link your daughters arm into his. "My daughter is fucking wonderful, and if you have the audacity to try and punish her for her individuality, then fuck this." You all walked out of the office, your daughter smiling brightly. Later that evening, you snuggled up to Michael, grinning up at him and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "You're the best father, you know that?"
  • Calum: You dashed from your kitchen when you heard a cry for help. You found your son on the ground, his knee skidded from tripping. "Thomas! Are you okay?" You questioned with alarm, examining the irritated skin. He nodded, but his fists were balled up in frustration. "What's wrong, sweetie?" You asked, helping him off the ground and into the kitchen, getting the first aid kit in order to patch up his partial wound. "It's just that soccer try-outs are coming up in a few weeks, and I just want to make varsity." You frowned a bit, feeling sorry that you weren't able to help, considering you had never taken up any soccer interests. However, a movement from the upstairs caught both of your attention's, Calum moving over to give a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Tom. You'll be pro in no time." They both headed into the backyard, and hours later - your guys had come inside, all sweaty and ready for whatever you had cooked for dinner.
  • Luke: Your son cracked open the spine of a textbook which seemed to have been collecting dust majority throughout the school year. "Come on, Robbie. You've got to get your grades up." You spoke to him, rubbing his back in sympathy as he groaned in distress. "Math is pointless." He spat, though attempted to tend to the worksheets placed in front of him. Heading back down to the kitchen, you watched Luke arrive home from the studio from the back door. "Hey, babe." He kissed you on the forehead, noticing your sigh into his shoulder. "What's wrong?" He questioned, placing your hair behind your ear. "Rob's just not doing to well in his classes, and I'm trying so hard to help him and I just-" Luke placed his index finger on your lips, laughing playfully at your stress. "Do you not remember all the math my mum made me do on tour? It's fine, love. I'll help him out." You smiled, a wave of relief coming over you as you watched Luke head up the stairs. Hours later, you peeked into the room, a grin spreading to your lips as Luke was giving your son a high five with an understanding to the new curriculum.
  • Ashton: Ashton sat alongside your daughter on her bed, the worksheets spread out alongside a dictionary that was now overused and the print too light to read properly. "Sss.. Keh... Too... Eh?" Ashton questioned your daughter, her face trying to keep from laughing too hard. "Dad, when I said assist me with French, I didn't mean you attempting to teach me." You overheard the conversation, laughing lightly as you entered the room. Ashton looked to you with urgency, trying to gather some sort of aid. "That's alright, Jasey. I took French in High School. I'll help you out. Get out, Ash. This is a mummy's job." Ashton seemed surprised by your statement, refusing to get up from the bed. "You know, French is a pretty sexy language. I think I better stick around.." He stated, your daughter making barf noises. "For christs sake, Dad! You can't wait until you're alone, can you?!" Ashton chuckled, rising from the bed, kissing you on the cheek moving to leave - though whispered how you 'had' to show him your accent later on that evening.

important 1d headcanons i’m always gonna believe in:

  • whenever they have to cram into cars that are too small, niall sits on one of the other boys’ laps. if he ever gets too heavy (or too bony, lbr) they just pass him to the next one who’s eagerly waiting with arms outstretched for their lapful of happy niall
  • harry had vowed to take the high-road re: his relationship with taylor, but when he sat down to write “perfect” louis looked at him with a gleam in his eye and said “LET’S DRAG HER” and all that instantly flew out the window
  • zayn has clothes in his closet that belong to each of the boys and any time he wears them he feels a little bit wistful and just wonders
  • when all the “larry” BS started getting out of hand, louis and harry talked about how they would proceed with their public friendship aka barely interacting, but they promised each other that no matter what they’d still be best friends. they hugged on it for a very long time and now that it’s 2015 and they’re different people than they were before and so many things have changed, every so often they’ll catch themselves watching each other and harry will whisper “still?” and louis will nod very seriously and they’ll know
  • louis has a stash of all of liam’s handkerchiefs he stole during wwa in the back of one of his dresser drawers at home. liam knows they’re there but doesn’t say anything even though he wants to know if louis looks at them sometimes when he’s lonely and missing him
  • sophia has said “if you love him so much why aren’t you dating him?” at least once during one of liam’s stories/lovefests about any particular one of his boys. she doesn’t mind though…she gets it
  • when niall first got his braces, he hated how they made him look so zayn took it on himself to compliment him any chance he got, squishing him so full of love that niall couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad anymore
  • eleanor used to squish louis’ lovehandles any chance she got. now liam does it
  • niall hates loud noises so every so often he has to hide away from the boys. relatedly, niall is the only one louis will quiet himself for
  • niall cried the hardest when zayn left and louis didn’t cry at all even though he really really wanted to

anonymous asked:

Thank you! I'm sorry if this question is already out there, but someone told me that Yuu//noa will probably happen because Shinoa's feelings are blunt and out there as for Mika's feelings aren't really confirmed.. I don't know.. I think they have a point, but does that really mean anything? I really appreciate :)

Hello there! I could see where the person who told you that is coming from but at the same time, I have to disagree somewhat. Because Shinoa never once actually mentioned that she herself loved Yuu. No, Guren did that for her, and before that…there was hardly if ever indication that she had romantic feelings for Yuu. In fact, did she not tease Mitsuba about having a crush on Yuu? Like, her feelings weren’t confirmed or even acted upon until Guren said what he said.

And, if you consider that outward and blunt, then…I’m pretty sure almost every other character who has shown concern or care for Yuu is in love with him.

Never once does Shinoa herself outwardly mention that she loves Yuu, and honestly, she doesn’t even outwardly allude to it. Idk, her feelings may be blunt because they’re forced but at the same time, she herself never outwardly goes out of her was to show, or really imply that she has love for Yuu.

And I should add at least,  not the way I see it.

Because if we’re comparing her to Mika, then I’m going to have to say that his feelings are a lot blunter and more confirmed than Shinoa’s.

Idk if you’re friend or whoever is reading, or watching the same manga/anime—but seriously, to deny that Mika’s feelings towards Yuu aren’t really confirmed is false.

Does it even have to be brought up that Mika is always thinking about Yuu? In the manga/anime whenever we are shown parts with Mika, he’s always thinking about Yuu. The mere thought of Yuu is enough to bring him to tears, it’s enough to make his heart hurt inside, and it’s even enough to make him smile. Keep in mind, up until now, Mika hasn’t smiled or cried since childhood (from what we know), so, the fact that just the thought of Yuu is able to evoke such emotions, proves that his feelings are confirmed. (Plus the thought of Yuu gives him home)

And if people still don’t believe that Mika’s love for Yuu isn’t genuine because he doesn’t flat out say it, then take it from Ferid who basically confirmed for Mika that he was in love with Yuu. And Mika didn’t shut the idea down at all. And I guess you’re thinking “WELL…That’s like Guren telling Shinoa that she loves Yuu right…?” Well, not it’s not, because Shinoa hardly ever acted on Guren’s revelation afterward (when she does happen to by chance, it looks very odd and forced. It just feels uncomfortable).  

Mika’s feelings for Yuu were pretty much confirmed before Ferid pointed them out. And I’m just going to add, that’s another difference between the situations with Guren and Shinoa. Shinoa never once showed any romantic feelings or even alluded to it before Guren said what he did. However, long before Ferid even brought it up, Mika was already giving us enough evidence by his actions and thoughts to prove that he had some type of feelings for Yuu. He didn’t need Ferid to point that out for him in order for him to actually feel something for Yuu and act upon those feelings–He felt something for Yuu long before Ferid even mentioned it. Shinoa didn’t feel anything romantic for Yuu until Guren said something. You see the difference?

Mika had shown tons of signs, beforehand.

And whether those signs were shown from his actions, or inner thought dialogue, or word of mouth they pretty much confirmed that he loved Yuu. Even if he never flat out said that he loved Yuu, it was pretty easy to tell that he did.

And speaking about actions as a sign of confirmation…

The recent chapters have pretty much given us a solid confirmation that Mika loves Yuu. If we’re not talking about the first time they met when Mika basically asked or better yet told Mika to abandon everything and runaway with him (like…okay, that is as blunt as I don’t know what), then we should probably bring up the more recent chapters, where Mika once again asks Yuu to elope with him so they could live on the country side together, and then later on Yuu actually agrees (though he wants to save the squad + guren first which is understandable. And yes, that is called eloping what they’re doing.) …

Or, we could highlight the part where before Mika and Yuu are able to finally escape the battle field (before Mika becomes a full vampire), Mika is trying to get to Yuu and is basically running into the enemy lines risking death (he is stabbed various times) all to see Yuu one last time before he possibly dies…and just a note, during that part of the manga Mika was literally about to die. At a point, it no longer mattered that he needed to speak to Yuu…I think with the knowledge that he was probably going to die, he just wanted to see Yuu one last time…this is how I take it at least.

If these aren’t blunt, outward, signs of romance or emotions then I don’t know what to tell you.

Personally, I think Mika’s feelings are a lot more confirmed, genuine, and visible than anyone’s towards Yuu’s so far.

And maybe this is just me because I ship Mikayuu (HURR DURR), but I mean…I don’t see how anyone can look at how Mika acts, thinks etc….and say that he doesn’t love Yuu or that his emotions aren’t genuine.

And to be fair, Mika has been through a lot. Showing emotion does not come easy for him, and so far, Yuu has been the only reason he’s been so emotional as of recent.

So I hope this helps, and eases your qualms.

Sorry for the long delay—I was contemplating on going in the manga to get some manga panels but I hope you get the point. Plus, it’s midnight here and I’m tired, but I’ve been so eager to answer this.

Also, I think that your friend or whatever should kind of take into perspective that Yuu and Mika’s relationship is supposed to mirror Romeo and Juliet’s, where understandably, the two couldn’t be so open about their love for each other, for obvious reasons. But they thought of each other all the time, and they lived for each other…and even if they didn’t say it, it was evident the two were in love.

Love doesn’t have to be mentioned for it to be love!!