improv fic

Shout out to the fic writers that struggle to get 25+ notes on their 2k+ word one-shots

Shout out to the fic writers that consistently put out fics and still don’t get many notes

Shout out to the fic writers that constantly mess up grammar and spelling simple words we all do that we’re human

Shout out to the fic writers who write beautifully sculpted, 50k+ word chaptered fics and don’t get any feedback (or again, many notes)

Shout out to the fic writers who are insecure about their writing and never get any feedback they think will help them improve their writing

Y’all fic writers are awesome and deserve so much recognition

this one is literally dedicated to @itsallavengers bcuz all her posts are magnificent but the Tony & Peter ones always have me HOWLING

The Bet

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four  | Part Five

“Okay, so if we do it like this-”

“No, no, no. Hermione, please. Like you would know-”

Excuse me, Ron. I know plenty-”

“Oh, really? Because suddenly kissing a guy in the middle of a war isn’t exactly asking them out.”

“Oh, shut it.” Hermione blushed but otherwise looked proud of herself. She turned to Harry. “What do you think, Harry?”

Harry didn’t respond. He was still looking off to the Slytherin table. By this time Malfoy had stopped meeting his eye and was now angrily talking to his friends.


“Er…” He finally released his gaze on Malfoy. “All those ideas sound great…”

Hermione crossed her arms, “Really? Which ones?”


“Harry, mate. We’re trying to help you out here.” Ron chastised. It sounded all too much like Hermione for his taste.

“I’m sorry! I just… Maybe I shouldn’t even do this.”

“What?” The two said in unison. A couple students around them gave them funny looks. “Oh, mind your own.” They snapped at them. Again. In unison.

“You’re both getting creepy.” Harry grimaced.

We’re getting creepy?” Ron raised an eyebrow. “What about you, Mister Suddenly-Super-Into-Mal-”

“Ron!” Harry shushed him.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Oh, please. I saw this coming.”

“How?” Ron turned to her. “Why?

She looked at him, unimpressed. “Ron. Sixth year.”

“Ooh… Okay, yeah.”

“I thought he was a bloody Death-!” He stopped short at their amused faces. “Piss off.”

“Okay, seriously, though. Bet. Yes or no?” Ron asked the two of them.

“Yes.” Hermione nodded.

“No.” Harry crossed his arms.

“You’re really back and forth with this, Harry. You don’t want to do it, you do want to do it…” Ron said.

“I-” Harry started.

“He’s afraid that asking Malfoy out as a bet would make it seem like it didn’t count as an actual date. Or, that Malfoy will reject him. He’s also afraid that he might actually have genuine feelings for his archnemesis, rather than any other person in the world, much less at this school.” Hermione smiled sweetly and took a bite of her toast. “Unless I’m wrong.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her but otherwise said nothing.

“You’re so smart, ‘Mione.” Ron cooed, looking at her dreamily.

“Thank you, love.” She replied, mirroring his expression.

“Ugh, okay. Fine. Bet: yes. Now help me decide what to do.” Harry said, wishing to Merlin he wasn’t in between them.

“Okay, so, I say you just ask him right out,” Hermione suggested, looking back to Harry.

“What? 'Mione, please. Malfoy is way too prideful to just agree to a date like that,” Ron said matter-of-factly. “If anything, we have to mess with his head. He’s expecting Harry to ask him out, yeah? So ignore him. Then, little by little, ask him small stuff, but make a big deal of it.”

Ron clasped his own hands together and feigned a look of innocence. “'Malfoy? Mind if I ask you something?’ Then turn it around and just ask him if he dropped his quill or if he knows the homework for potions. Eventually, he’ll get so mad he’ll basically ask you out. Which works, since the bet is about the date, not how you get it.”

Ron grinned at them, proudly, but his expression slowly morphed to confusion at their faces, “What?”

“Ron…” Hermione said breathily, unsure of how to react. “That… Was really thought out.”

“Are… Are you sure you don’t want to date Malfoy?” Harry started to smirk.

“Wha-?” Ron’s face went red immediately. “Piss off! George and Fred gave me that relationship book, remember? When I was trying to date 'Mione.”

Harry snickered, “That book was brilliant.”

“Ugh, and it worked…” Hermione rolled her eyes. Then she gasped. “Oh, Merlin… Harry. It worked.”

“Yeah? What are you getting at?” Harry was still smiling cheekily at Ron, who was currently trying to cover his face.

“Ron’s plan to date me. It worked.” Hermione looked at him meaningfully.

Harry’s eyes widened, “Oh.”

Ron looked up, his face still red, but now wearing a shit-eating grin. “Guess we go with my idea.”

Harry smirked, punching him in the arm, “Better work, you prick.”

Ron punched him back, “It will!”

Harry looked back to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was gone. An odd feeling clenched in his stomach. Somehow, he felt that ignoring Malfoy was easier said than done.

I hope you all know that 70% of this fic is created by all of you telling me how much I should continue it <3 The other 30% is procrastination. Anyways keep screaming at me I think it’s working.

i put a spell on you (part 1/2, zimbits)

This fic is for the ultra-cool @porcupine-girl who won my Fandom Trumps Hate auction and was so very generous with time and prompt leeway as this fic spun out of control. I hope the resulting silliness was worth the wait! ^_^

Please do me a favor and take nothing in the fic you’re about to read seriously.

Read on AO3

It was unnaturally quiet in the Haus when Bitty crept his way downstairs, picking his way around abandoned solo cups and other party debris to get to the kitchen, Señor Bun hitched on his hip. He swung open the door with a sigh. He had expected the mess, but it was still disappointing to see the sheer amount of trash and spills on the floor after Epikegster the night before. Bitty set his rabbit on the counter and Señor Bun immediately began to sniff around the solo cups.

“Don’t drink anything,” Bitty warned. Señor Bun thumped the counter in protest and Bitty gave him a look and wagged a finger at him. “I mean it.”

The rabbit seemed at least momentarily convinced to stay put so Bitty turned and pulled open one of the bottom cabinets to tear off a new garbage bag from the roll. He made quick work of the various cups and drinks left on the counter and sprayed everything down with bleach before scrubbing away the evidence of any of the sticky tub juice and beer on the counter at least. Señor Bun wrinkled his nose at the bleach but hopped out of the way as Bitty cleaned around him. Bitty’s shoes still stuck to the floor when he moved, but that could be a problem for Ransom and Holster whenever they dragged themselves out of bed. He only needed the clean counter for now.

He checked his phone and rolled his eyes at himself.

“Lord, who am I up at six on a morning after a party like that?” Bitty asked Señor Bun absentmindedly. Señor Bun thumped his foot loudly, registering a complaint at the early hour as well and Bitty scratched behind his ear which elicited even more thumping.

Keep reading

Suddenly the words are missing along with his breath. Her hands grip his suit at the mere thought of meeting his lips.

VMHQ Round Robin Story - Update & FAQ!

Our round robin campfire tale at VMHQ is shaping up great and we’re SO excited! Here’s a list of all the writers who have committed to writing one big, crazy improv-style story together thus far (in no particular order).

@bryrosea, @susanmichelin, @starlightafterastorm, @elliebear75, @ghostcat3000, @nevertothethird, @disdainfullady, @mysilverylining, @nicemom93, @leuberpwnage, @nikiiwi@beezlebobble, @heavenli24, @happilyshanghaied, @darlinginmyway, @cheshirecatstrut, @marshmallowtasha, @kmd0107, @dbsavmlvr, @leuberpwnage, @salt-watery, @missismess, @brittany4824

(PS: If you think you’ve signed up and you’re not tagged above MESSAGE US AND LET US KNOW, PLEASE! We don’t want to miss anyone!) 

Signups are still open! If you’d like to join in, get in touch with us by dropping a message in our ask box or by messaging one of the librarians directly by Friday, April 28th. We’ll need either your tumblr user name or an email address, so that we can get in touch with you! 

Read on below the cut for a FAQ explaining how the story process will work and answering all the questions we’ve received.

When does the story begin? 

The first installment will be posted on Saturday, April 29th. (We had so many awesome writers sign up that we decided to start a week earlier than originally planned.) With our current roster we should be posting well into September, so settle in for a fun ride! 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm dying to read a tampon fic set during or post revival! Please will you write it? Please?

Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober

He might be older these days but his focus, Mulder swears, is sharper than ever. Which is why Scully’s exhausting silence hits him right in the face. They’re on the road, a circumstance he still finds baffling even months into their reinstatement, on their way to their motel. That’s something he could do without; staying in second rate accommodations. He glances over at Scully, slouched in the passenger seat, looking exhausted. He thinks about asking her if she’s all right but he is not in the mood for her standard I’m fine. Their silences are still comfortable, just like they used to be when they were partnered first, but it’s not the same. Mulder feels the need to talk. Not even the about case. He wants to know what she had for dinner last night, what she watched on TV, whether she slept well. They’re on good terms, working as well together as always, but there is an invisible line now and he doesn’t know if she’ll let him cross it. 

“There’s a gas station. Let’s stop there a moment.” Scully says.

“We don’t need gas.”

“Can you please just stop the car, Mulder?” Annoyance mixed with exasperation. He sets the blinker and steers the car into the small parking area. Scully gets out of the car without a word and Mulder watches her long, certain strides. He locks the car before he follows her into the small convenience store. Soft music tinkles from an old, rusty radio and three men talk about their wives, children and grandchildren. They nod at Scully, but eye him curiously. I belong to her, Mulder thinks. In every sense of the word. Scully seems determined, searching for something in the back of the store. They used to go grocery shopping together. Let’s do something normal, Mulder, she’d said when she proposed it one Thursday afternoon. That was years ago. He has his groceries delivered nowadays; he has no idea when Scully goes grocery shopping or where. It’s selfish, he knows, but he hopes she does it alone. 

She walks towards him and he glances at her hands holding a box of tampons. Oh. They haven’t lived together in years and if Mulder is honest, he has almost forgotten what it’s like. He’d bring her hot water bottles, massage her back, and bring her to orgasm; anything she asked for. Many times she didn’t, though. Like all her burdens, big or small, she bore this particular one without complaint. He looks at her now; her face, to him, is still the same. There are a few wrinkles here and there and not as many laugh lines as he would have wanted for her. In his mind, she is not 53 years old. She’s ageless, just Scully. But he knows what her age means or should mean when it comes to her reproductive system. Not that it has been working properly these last 20 years. Of all the things she might have needed today, tampons were not high on Mulder’s guessing list.

“I’m just going to pay. Do you want anything? Sunflower seeds?”

“I’ll pay.” He holds out his hand and waits for Scully to give him the box of tampons.

“Mulder, it’s fine. I don’t need you to pay for my-”

“Scully? Please let me pay? Please?” There must be something in his voice or in his expression that convinces her. When she hands over the box, he swears he can hear a soft thank you before she walks out of the store. His eyes follow her until she’s at the car. He picks up two Musketeers bars, throws in a bag of sunflower seeds and pays for all of it. The cashier smiles at him knowingly and puts it in a bag.  

In the car, Scully holds on to the bag as if it contained the answers to all the questions in the world. Neither of them speaks the rest of the way. Mulder still wants to ask her how she feels. If there’s anything he can do to help. In the end, though, he remains quiet.

“See you tomorrow, Mulder. Good night.” Scully disappears into her motel room without another word and leaves Mulder standing there feeling lost. In his own room, he considers working on the case, but finds that he can’t concentrate. It’s not the same when Scully isn’t around to dispute his ideas, challenge him, or even call him crazy. So the files remain untouched. Instead of taking a shower, or changing into more comfortable clothes, he googles menopause and reads tales of women in their 40s and 50s as they exchange stories of hot flashes, emotional crises and loss of sex drive. He is so immersed in this world that he’s merely seen, never inhabited himself, that he doesn’t hear the knock at first.

“Mulder?” It’s Scully. He throws the phone on his bed and opens his door to her. An air of déjà-vu combined with the fresh evening air and Scully’s familiar scent fills his nostrils.

“Hey, you all right?”

“I think these are yours.” She hands him his sunflower seeds with a smile.

“I bought them for you, Scully.” He replies with a grin and takes them from her.

“Thank you for the Musketeer bars.“ 

"You used to want chocolate when you were on your period.” She nods, averts her eyes.

“Why don’t you come in?”

“It’s late, Mulder.”

“When has that ever stopped us before?”

“I’m not sure it’d be a good idea.”

“That’s never stopped us before either. Come in, please. Bring the Musketeer bars.”

“What makes you think I haven’t eaten them yet?”

“I know you, Scully. I know you.” He grins and to his greatest joy she pulls both bars out of her pockets. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment or maybe something else that Mulder doesn’t dare to think about. He ushers her in, touches her arm, then her back, enjoying the normalcy of it. Scully sits down on the bed; there really isn’t much else to sit on. 

“Mulder, why are you reading about menopause?”


“Your phone. I wasn’t snooping - it’s on your phone. You know, you should really adjust your display, Mulder. It drains your battery. Now tell me why you’re interested in menopause.”

“I was just… wondering. I thought maybe you’d, you know.” Now it’s him whose cheeks take on a light pink color.

“You could have asked, Mulder.”

“Am I allowed to ask you things like that, Scully?” The question tumbles out before he can stop himself. Scully blinks at him, surprised.

“Are you allowed to ask me about my menstrual cycle? Is that what you’re asking?”

“No, I mean,” he takes a deep breath, sits next to her on the bed, “I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask you, to tell you. Where am I in your life? Is it still my business?”

“I don’t remember us talking in length about my period, Mulder. Ever.”

“But I knew. I was there, Scully. I didn’t need to ask because I was there. So am I allowed to ask?”

“Of course you’re allowed to ask, Mulder.” Scully sighs. “Is that why you googled menopause?”

“I thought by now you’d be, you know, done with it.”

“I thought so, too,” Scully admits, not looking at him, worrying the sheets. “That’s why I wasn’t prepared." 

"I’m sorry, Scully.”

“What are you sorry for?” She asks with a soft chuckle, granting him one of her warmest smiles that continuously makes him forget everything else.

“For everything.”

“That’s a lot to be sorry for, Mulder. Let me share some of that, hm?” She hands him one of the Musketeer bars.

“We’ve been called a lot of things. No one has ever called us the two Musketeers.” He bites into the rich chocolate, savors the taste and the feel. Most of all, though, he enjoys watching Scully’s eyes drift close as her lips close around the piece of chocolate. He wants to watch her eat chocolate for the rest of his life. It’d be a good life, he is certain of it.

“I should probably go back to my own room now.”

"I think you should stay right here.” Mulder says.


“We could do that thing we always did…”

“We did a lot of things, Mulder. Be specific.” But she doesn’t get up from his bed, doesn’t move away from him.

“You know, when your stomach hurt and your back?” He starts nuzzling her neck just to see her reaction. She tilts her head, grants him permission, gives in.

“Hm, I think I might remember.”

“Want me to help you? For old time’s sake?” His lips linger against her skin and she’s softer, warmer and more delicious than the chocolate he just tasted.

“Shut up, Mulder, and work your magic.”

Mob receives a love letter. It’s the duty of the Body Improvement Club to support him.

[Happy belated Valentine’s Day, folks. Originally written for the MP100 Valentine’s Week but not finished in time because of course.

Alternative title card: that one profile pic of Musashi, which reveals that he is a zero at love but a hero at nosiness.] 

Keep reading

Lay Me Down (Reddie)

I made myself cry, but i’m a crybaby anyway. Let me know what you think! I listened to “Lay Me Down” by Sam Smith for inspiration. I suggest if you can listen to music while reading, you do the same with this one. I’ll apologize now.

Word count: 826

The crisp fall air blew softly against two pairs of pale, tinted red, cheeks. Two young boys, with wide smiles, rode their bikes around their hometown Derry. They had just disbanded from their friend group. Their eyes were a light shade of red as they were just filled with tears. 

This was Richie’s last night in Derry.

Keep reading

where the years went i can’t say

word count: ~1000

title is from Across the Great Divide by Frank Solivan, as heard in the Pride soundtrack. 

also available on AO3

“Will you miss this hallway Dan?” Phil asks, standing behind Dan’s head to film him upside down. He’s seen him like this too many nights to count, more than he would have liked. Yet he kind of is genuinely sad this staple of living will never again repeat itself - unless the process of moving makes Dan especially crisis-y, which is very possible.

“I mean, where else will I lie to contemplate death?” Dan asks. “It’s just such a perfect, long, bleak corridor to lie facedown on.”

Phil laughs, “I don’t know!” he replies, genuinely thinking about it. There are no such narrow corridors in their new place. It’s open, light. There’s no space that automatically lends itself to such a state of mind.

Keep reading

theantiantichrist  asked:

Fire Lord Ozai in a duel to the death with Daenerys Targaryen

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaaryen–” 

“Yes, yes, I know the drill.” 

Ozai scowled. His eyes were cold and filled with scorn for the miserable looking whelp in front of him. He had better things to do than deal with the likes of her, yet here he was–the great Firelord of Yi Ti–treating with some dethroned queen from across the sea.

Her eyes were filled with stubborn determination as she looked up him. ”Then you know what I must do.”

Do? The girl had an army–yes, but she was unskilled, untrained, and most of all unworthy of his city.

After all, who was this girl to defy him?

She ought to learn respect, Ozai thought. 

The Firelord paused at the thought, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as something dawned on him, his eyes lit at the memory. 

He let out a throaty chuckle, his eyes taking in the figure of the slender girl before him. 

A girl that he towered over. 

A girl that he would soon have begging for his mercy…which would never come. 

“What are you,” began the Firelord, as he slowly walked toward her, “Fourteen? Fifteen at most?” 

Daenerys tilted her head, her brow furrowed, and her determined look giving way to confusion. “I don’t see what–”

Ozai ignored her, one sandaled foot stepping in front of the other as he approached, his shadow creeping across the hot summer sand.

“I had a son like you, once,” Gold eyes flickered as his shadow crept forward. “Stubborn, arrogant…” Ozai continued.

“I don’t see…”

Ozai smirked wickedly, too caught up in a memory to care what the silver-haired girl was prattling on about.

“He thought he could defy his Firelord–me…do you know what happened to him?”

Daenerys furrowed her brow. She did not try to step back, much to Ozai’s dismay. 

She just stood there. 

Then again, neither did Zuko. No. He had to beg for his mercy. He had to embarrass himself and his father in front of the entire court

Ozai took a deep breath, his inner fire burning strong as he looked at the young girl. 

”No, I don’t,” the girl replied. “And I don’t see how this is relevent.” 

“Then learn!”

Ozai raised his fist then, fire bursting from his hand and swooshing past the girl who dodged it with ease. 

Behind her, a man in bright clothes with blue hair ran forward, reaching for his arakh until a look and a gesture from the silver queen made him stop. 

Good, Ozai thought. This’ll be a lesson she won’t soon forget.

Daenerys fired back, a small plume of yellow fire bursting from her open palm. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Asked Ozai as he brushed the fire aside. 

How pathetic, thought the Firelord. This girl’s no dragon

The battle continued with the silver-haired girl maintaining her distance as Ozai tried to approach. 

He grit his teeth. This was going on for far long, and Ozai was getting tired, his movements evidently slowed as Daenerys maneuvered past him. 

At some point, Daenerys had made him fall, the hot sand burning into his muscled back. 

“Do you yield?” 


Fire erupted from Ozai’s fist. Daenerys fell backward. 

Overhead, Ozai heard a shrill shriek and looked up, his eyes widening at what he was seeing. 

He heard the rumors, but not once did he think it was real. The dragons were supposed to be dead. Long dead. 

Ozai could only watch in awe as the dragons drew closer. 

The silver queen said a word, and Ozai screamed. 

2016 fic list

hey hey hey, so I decided to compile all the fics I wrote in 2016 here, since it seemed like a cool idea after seeing other people do it lol (it’s not much tho, just some knb and mostly bnha)

boku no hero academia

nerves of ice (4k words) - tododeku, fluff, sick fic 

improve and approve (4.4k words) - gen (pre-tododeku), kids with cool gadgets and little supervision

like i’m gonna lose you (1.1k words) - tododeku, fluff and light angst, future fic

a little love never hurts (until it’s no longer a little) (4.5k words) - tododeku, pining, recounting canon events w/ slight divergence

guiding light (3k words) - tododeku, childhood friend au, fluff and angst

it’s always darkest, when you’re not by my side (1.3k words) - tododeku, nightmares, hurt/comfort

off to a good start (2.2k words) - tododeku, third years, fluff

sunshine, trapped in our hearts (4.1k words) - tododeku, sequel to guiding light, friends to lovers, canon divergence

caught (500 words) - tododeku, crack, hsm references that’s it

taking the lead (1.2k words) - tododeku, light fluff and angst

starry skies, starry eyes (2.7k words) - tododeku, college au, birthday fic, i love writing about space

what… is that? (600 words) - tododeku, crack

the bonds that hold us together (9k words) - gen, de-aged au, fluff and angst

a not so picture perfect family (2.7k words) - tododeku, fluff

coming to terms (5.7k words) - bakukami, pining, friends to lovers

keep your head up, above the water (3.9k words) - bakukami, light angst and fluff

volume eighty-one (2.5k words) - todomomo, fluff

affliction (6.7k words) - tododeku, aged-up characters, fluff and angst

liberosis (800 words) - tododeku, aged-up characters, fluff

one string, fit for a bow (4.8k words) - tododeku, soulmate au, pining

the picture speaks for itself (3.3k words) - bakukami, fluff

game (1.5k words) - bakukami, fluff

flowery language (5.5k words) - tododeku, modern au, businessman!shouto and poet!izuku

cuddle week (6.3k words) - bakukami, tododeku, cuddle prompts, fluff and angst

kuroko no basket

then, it’s a date (2.6k words) - akafuri, fluff

gravity (300 words) - aokaga, college au

the problem with hangovers (6.4k words) - morizuki, soulmates au

[ other unposted fics can be found here ]

Ease - Part 16



Length: 3.0k

SummaryYou and your best friend Taehyung have recently got into the same university in the capital of Seoul. Hoping that this was your year to finally admit your romantic feelings towards your said best friend, uni seems an exciting prospect. But of course, the future never really goes according to plan.

A/N: thank you for all the lovely lovely messages i’ve gotten so far!! u are all precious much love 💛

Originally posted by jeonbase

1 ♡ 2 3 4 5 ♡ 6 7 ♡ 8 ♡ 9 ♡ 10 11 ♡ 12 ♡ 13 ♡ 14 ♡ 15 ♡ 16 ♡ 17 ♡ 18 ♡ 19 - End ♡ Moodboard

The clock was ticking. It was only a few days before the competition, and you’d been working non-stop with Taehyung to be ready in time. True to his promise, he’d practised day and night, and even when he complained he was too exhausted, he always continued rehearsing for another hour. Jungkook seemed fine with it all, and he even hobbled along to one of your practices to see how you were getting along. It warmed your heart to know that he’d become so supportive of you and Taehyung, and he even gave advice on how Taehyung could improve, giving him little tips and tricks to make it easier for him.

You’d slept round their house after finishing late, and because you also expected an early start the next day. Taehyung must have left early, as he was nowhere to be seen, so you cheerfully got ready in your own time. After staying up well into the night with Taehyung, talking about the past and the future and everything in between, you were in a good mood the next morning, despite the tiredness seeping into your bones as you moved.

As you walked down stairs, Namjoon hollered at you from the kitchen. “Y/N!” he yelled, sounding like he had his mouth stuffed with food. “Do you want to come with me and Jin to the park?”

“No thanks,” you called back, pulling on your shoes by the front door. “I’m busy.”

“If you change your mind, feel free to meet us there!”

“Will do!”

You closed the door behind you with a click, and began walking down the road.

It was a beautiful day, and you couldn’t help grinning to yourself at the thought of dancing with Taehyung again. It felt so good to watch him perform with barely any mistakes, knowing that you were the reason behind his progress. Plus, it meant you got to spend hours of uninterrupted time with him, as Hoseok and Yoongi had a work shift that day.

In the distance, you could see Taehyung waiting outside the gate to the building for the practice room, his thin frame slouched against the pillar as he rested all his weight on one leg. His hair flopped cutely over his forehead as he typed on his phone, but his eyebrows were furrowed and the playful expression he always wore was missing.

As you approached, you slowed down, immediately figuring something was wrong. “Tae!” you called out, noting how his face didn’t change as he looked up, his eyes darkening. There was no softness, no boyish look that you were so used to seeing. Just pure rage, trembling under his skin.

“Tae?” you said again, your happy mood vanishing within an instant. “What’s the matter?”

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, sticking out his chin and breathing out his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down. You swallowed nervously, not knowing how to react. You’d never seen him so angry in your life. It didn’t help that he stood stock still, leaving a few feet between you and letting the tension fill the gap.

When he spoke, his voice was deep but firm, with a seriousness that he only used when he was talking to teachers or apologising after being scolded.

“You knew the real reason Yeji was dating me, and you didn’t say?”

Adrenaline shot through your body like a shock wave, numbing your limbs into position. All you could do was stare as you struggled to breathe, your vision going white as you realised what you’d gotten yourself into. He knows he knows he knows he knows…

“I can’t believe you,” he scoffed, flicking his hair out of eyes and poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. You wracked your brain desperately for an excuse, but all you could feel was the shame that numbed your heart and froze your brain solid. Taehyung looked broken. “I found out from Jimin,” he spat, blinking furiously. “He confessed what he’d said, and what had happened when he found out. Turns out, he’d been at the spring market. Turns out, he met you there. And you know everything.”

“Taehyung, I-”

“To think I could trust you. I let myself believe that there was something, someone there for me after everything turned to shit. But you lied to me, Y/N.” He laughed bitterly, properly laughed, but his eyes were mingling with tears, and he sniffed several times before roughly wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Yeji used me to get with Jimin, and my best friend didn’t tell me. Didn’t stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

“You were so happy,” you mumbled weakly, not bothering to try harder to defend yourself. You hadn’t won this battle, you knew that straight away. You’d messed up. “You liked her for so long, I didn’t have it in me, didn’t have the heart, to wreck you like that.”

“So you let me believe that she had a crush on me? For what? What did you get out of that? Did you enjoy seeing me lose myself in someone who had no interest in me?”

You were shaking your head, feeling hot, angry tears roll down your cheeks. Not angry at Taehyung, but at yourself. What was I thinking? “At the time, it was the right thing to do,” you hiccupped, “because you said you loved her. I tried to tell you that you didn’t, because how I loved you was nothing like that. But you were convinced. For years you’ve talked about Yeji. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell you.”

Taehyung pulled at his top lip with his teeth, his hands that hung loosely by his sides beginning to shake. “Do you know why I went on about Yeji for so long?” he asked faintly, scouring your face for any type of reaction. “Have you no idea?”

“What are you talking about?” you croaked, feeling the dryness crackle in your throat.

He smiled pitifully, turning his head slightly away. You had the urge to pull his face back so he was looking at you, but you stayed still, holding your breath in apprehension. His nostrils flared as his eyes shone with emotion, the warmness of the day not quite getting past your skin as you watched the sadness fill his expression.

“I was trying to make you jealous,” he mumbled, screwing up his eyes and allowing himself to cry. “I thought if I went on about another girl, you might’ve said something. You never did, but I said it so much that I started to believe that I really did like Yeji. When you told me that you loved me, I remembered what love should feel like.”

Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself beginning to go dizzy from the lack of oxygen, but it didn’t matter. “Taehyung, what are you trying-”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for so long,” he interrupted, not letting you break his flow. Finally, he turned and looked at you again, and you suddenly wished he hadn’t. Seeing the pain and heartache behind his brown irises made you feel like you’d just been trodden into the mud and left there to rot.

“I love you,” he said. “I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. Stupid, really, because I was praying on false hope that one day, you possibly might like me back. But that day only came a few months ago, and that’s when I realised I should’ve waited a little bit longer. I tried to tell you,” he smiled, but it was a half-smile; it barely lifted his cheeks. “Yeji was the one who told me to chase you, but by that time, you were already with Jungkook. That day, when you told me we should keep our distance, I said I was going to tell you something. But, obviously, I didn’t.”

Your heart was collapsing, piece by piece, and you finally understood the true meaning of heartbreak. It was nothing like you’d seen on TV or in the movies. There were tears staining your eyes and your nose was blocked, but the feeling you felt inside couldn’t be explained with words. All of a sudden, you didn’t know what was the right thing to say, the right thing to do, or what you should be feeling. You were hollow, and you could see the one thing that would make it all go away. But they were a few feet away. Just out of reach.

“You told me that we shouldn’t get in too deep,” he continued, his chest heaving unevenly as he struggled to draw breath. “You had no idea of how deep I was in. Namjoon argued with me, saying that you would change your mind, you would leave Jungkook, but I couldn’t see that happening. Not when you gave me a chance, and I dismissed it. I was satisfied with Yeji, even though I knew that all I ever wanted was to be with you, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you whispered, your throat beginning to burn in pain. “When I told you I loved you, you wanted us to stay friends. Why, Taehyung?”

“I thought Yeji was the safer option. I’d tried not to think of you in that way for so long, that I needed time to wonder if I still felt the same. Didn’t realise what that would do to you. But,” he sighed, his voice changing back to the serious tone as he straightened up, collecting himself together. “I guess it was all for nothing. You betrayed me, Y/N. If I’d known what Yeji was doing, she would’ve immediately been out the picture. Either way, I would’ve been upset, but at least I wouldn’t have made a complete idiot of myself. I don’t find liars attractive, so I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m going, and don’t you dare think about following me. Good luck with the dance.”

Without another word, Taehyung turned his back and began walking away, his head nodding low with his hands deep in his pockets.  You watched him leave, in a state of disbelief and despair. Eventually, your limbs unstuck and turned to jelly, allowing you to fall to the floor and cradle your knees, sitting by yourself against the pillar and questioning how could things have gone so wrong.

Jin and Namjoon were sprawled out on the grass, basking in the sun of the early afternoon. They were chatting and laughing contentedly, but when they noticed you standing not too far off with a look of torment on your face, they immediately rushed over.

“Come sit down,” they ushered, pulling you to their spot while you struggled to hold back the tears, but knowing that they were about to give you sympathy set off the waterworks once more.

“What’s happened?” asked Jin softly, while Namjoon handed you a tissue.

Sniffing loudly, you looked down at the ground and watched the grass stalks tremble in the wind. It should have been calming, but you barely noticed. “He told me he likes me,” you said vaguely, your voice bunged up and slightly higher than usual. “But I did something wrong. I kept something from him. Something huge. Now there’s no chance.”

Although you didn’t specify who you meant or what chance you missed, the two boys understood as they began rubbing your back and making soothing noises. It all became too much again, and you wept into your damp tissue.

“Why can’t you two just get together already?” Jin sighed, looking into the distance dramatically. “It’s been slowly driving us mad. You two clearly want to be together, yet neither of you are making a move.”

“You knew?” you asked incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes. “All this time, you knew that he liked me?”

“He’s in love with you,” stated Namjoon, smiling apologetically. “I don’t mean to brag, but if we could figure out that you fancied Taehyung, it wasn’t science to notice that he felt the same way.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No, we just knew,” Jin shrugged.

“Well,” corrected Namjoon, “Jungkook’s always been slow on the uptake with that sort of thing. That’s why we were so shocked when Yeji walked in and Taehyung announced that they were dating, because he clearly preferred you over some silly high school crush. Jungkook didn’t know you liked Taehyung for a while, but by the time we told him, he was already starting to take a liking to you, so I don’t think he really cared all that much.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Firstly, the person who you were completely in love with said they had felt the same way for years, and now you’d found out all your friends knew and hadn’t told you? You began to understand why Taehyung felt so betrayed when you’d kept the truth from him, because it felt horrible.

“He never showed me love,” you said sceptically, shaking your head in dejection.

Jin just laughed, but Namjoon sent him a warning look and he promptly stopped, realising it wasn’t the time for mockery. “Of course he did,” he said kindly. You looked up at his honest eyes, not quite accepting the truth. “Maybe… maybe his version of love isn’t the same as Jungkook’s, but it doesn’t mean that he didn’t show you it. Okay, so he didn’t say ‘I love you’ as much as Jungkook seemed to. He was just… less obvious about it.”

“Less obvious?”

“You know, small acts of affection? Perhaps he bought you presents, or he made you food. Perhaps he let you copy his notes, or made sure you got home safe, or stuck up for you when it meant he’d get in trouble, too.”

As Jin spoke, images and memories flashed through your head like a mini tape player, snapshots of Taehyung that you’d completely forgotten about. There was that time where he put food in your bag that you’d found during the audition round, and that time he sat by your side when you were ill, and when he picked up your call straightaway after arguing with Jungkook. He didn’t even ask why; he simply understood you needed him there.

“He loves you. He doesn’t need to say it to mean it,” added Namjoon, poking your cheek to get you to smile.

“But what about Jungkook?” you argued. “He always told me he loved me, but then he left-”

“Forget about Jungkook!” burst Namjoon, the passion beginning to show in his tone. It was only a subtle change, but it struck something in your chest that made you finally believe what they were trying to tell you. “That wasn’t love. He was infatuated with you, and when he realised that maybe it wasn’t love after all, he freaked. Don’t be wound up about Jungkook. He’ll find what he’s been looking for, soon enough.”

It made sense. It was hard to come to terms with the idea that you’d wasted so much time avoiding the subject, pushing down feelings when in reality, you could’ve avoided all the mess and heartbreak ages ago. If only you’d been brave enough and done what you’d set out to do when you first came to university: tell Taehyung that you loved him. But you couldn’t. And you didn’t. So you were stuck in a terrible situation that you couldn’t see any way out of. And it sucked. Although they were trying their best, Namjoon and Jin weren’t what you needed. You wanted to curl up in a ball on your bed and cry until you had no more tears left, until that aching feeling had gone.

“He’s so mad at me,” you whispered, sucking on your teeth. It was a habit that only surfaced when you were really upset, but knowing that only made you feel ten times worse.

Namjoon pulled out another tissue and delicately got rid of the grotty one you’d balled up in your fist, before clearing his throat quietly. “You’ve both hurt each other. That’s what you do when you love someone. It’s because you love them that you try to heal them again, to stop the pain, to make them more loved than they were before, all because you both got mad. But that’s why you’ve got to keep trying, Y/N. You and Taehyung have both come so far in your relationship, and although it would’ve been easier if none of this happened, I think it made you both grow as human beings and you’re able to understand each other a lot better than you did before. Don’t give up on him. It’s getting harder, I can see that, but you still love him no matter how hurt you’re feeling. You’ll keep trying because it hurts even more when he’s not there. So you’ve got to try.

As you went to sleep that night, you tried to remind yourself that whatever you were feeling was only temporary. Even though you were falling apart by the seams, you swore to yourself that you would be strong, and you would fight just a little bit longer.

But as you lay there, at 3am, lonely and restless, you didn’t feel strong and ready to fight. There was no strength in the tears that soaked your pillow. Everything seemed duller, like the moon against the black of night that didn’t quite burn into your eyes like it used to, and the rain wasn’t a lullaby, but more of a crashing noise that sounded like the sky was breaking. The stone in your chest that usually appeared from jealousy had gone, but instead, it was filled with that familiar pain.

There were some things in life that you couldn’t prepare yourself for. Even though you told yourself that if it ever happened, you were going to be ready. Even after Jungkook, the second round of heartbreak still hurt; it always, always hurt.

Closing your eyes, the last thing you saw before you fell into a fretful sleep was the poster from the dance competition, its splashed red colour taunting you, reminding you of what you’d lost, and what was still yet to come.

Romantic Richie HC’s

-The whole Losers club knows how into each other Richie and Eddie are. They keep telling Richie to ask Eddie out but he says “NO! I need the perfect moment, this is Eds, everything needs to be perfect for him!”

-Richie gets the whole losers club in on his big plan to confess. He has them plan a camping trip but all the other losers cancel the day of, so that it is just he and Eddie. While they are lying down under the stars then, and only then, does Richie decide he can say that he is in love with Eddie

-Richie makes mix tapes for Eddie all the time, and he gives them grossly romantic/corny/funny names: “Richie’s Heart”, “Marinara Sauce”, “Sexy time”, “Gay”, “Ed’s Time”

-Richie goes to different circuses and carnivals just to win different prizes for Eddie. He goes out of his way to win the little stuffed bears, often spending 20 dollars just to win one bear cause he knows Eddie loves them.

-When Richie first wants to say “I love you” he plans a big candle lit dinner while his parents are out. He tries to cook for Eddie but ends up burning the food and ordering Chinese. At the end of the night when it is just the two of them, their fortune cookies and the light of two candles Richie says it.

-Richie likes to watch all the Rom Coms that come out, and he tries to time the on screen kisses with him kissing Eddie’s cheek

-Once they are older Richie will only propose when he thinks the time is absolutely perfect. Stars, a string quartet, the whole nine but Eddie gets so impatient he ends up proposing right outside a McDonald’s when they get breakfast.

“It’s distracting”

Illustration for Blackout - Chapter 7: Rules and Some More Rules

avatarmagnus  asked:

big mood: Magnus saying "No" to clary/jace/some annoying shadowhunter's whiny and trivial request for something they can't be bothered fixing themselves, having the audacity to bother Magnus while he's swamped with important High Warlock of Brooklyn work. And they're stunned for a minute before attempting again and- "I. Said. No."

it was a gloomy tuesday, the skyline thick with clouds, somewhere past noon but lunch had gotten lost in a landslide of things to do. and on this gloomy tuesday, magnus was not in the mood for anything.

he was not in the mood for the fire message from the high warlock of manhattan trying to change the time and date of a warlock council meeting yet again. he was not in the mood for the stack of contracts piled up on his desk that he needed to finish rereading by the next morning. and he was really not in the mood for one of his potions exploding because a client meeting had gone on too long. he had 10 minutes until he needed to portal to queens and yet there he was elbow deep in purple gunk, carefully using magic to try and remove the coagulated potion off of a very old tome that he really didn’t want to be ruined. so really he was not in the fucking mood for shadowhunters barging into his home.

his jaw was tight and there was a tense energy around his shoulders as he bent over the book, cursing under his breath as blue sparks spilled up over the spine and he watched the potion slowly dissolve away under his magic. he’d have to save the rest of the books with a simpler spell and hope that none of them were damaged, but this one was too important.

and of course, that was when the door rattled. he had been trying to school his breathing, trying to calm himself before he portaled off to drop off some potions but it wasn’t really working when this spell required focus and concentration, and now someone had the audacity to be at the door. his head snapped up for a moment and he glared at it, then dropped his gaze back down, deciding he’d finish the spell and see who it was after. it was probably a client who had gotten timing wrong, which was irritating but he’d handle that when he was done.

Keep reading


one last batch of illustrations (and some of the sketches they came from) for @freedom-shamrock‘s @miraculousbigbang challenge, A Little Secret.

[ part 1/3 ] [ part 2/3 ] [ this is post 3/3 ]