it's such a beautiful gesture that you know she would have just remembered forever

I think I love you - Jughead Jones

Pairing : Jughead Jones x Reader

Word count : 1,484

Warnings : none

Requests are closed!

Originally posted by juptern

Your phone rang in the pocket of your jacket making you jump by surprise. You answered the call before showing your index to your friend Archie, meaning that it would only take a minute.

“Hi, this is (y/n) speaking.”

“Hey (y/n), how are you?” You instantly recognised the groggy voice behind the line.

“Jughead! I’m good! What about you?” From the corner of your eye, you would’ve swore you saw Archie rolling his eyes.

“Marvellous. So, what are you up to this evening? I thought we maybe could’ve hung out tonight. You know, me, you, at Pop’s?” You chuckled lightly.

“Sorry Juggie, I was planning on spending the night with Archie… You can tag along if you want? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” A small sigh made its way into your ear. You had to admit that you spent a lot of your recent time with your new red-haired friend. Jughead still occupied the position of best friend. He didn’t have to worry about it.

“I promise we’ll do something together tomorrow, alright?” It was silence for a while before you heard back,

“Yeah sure.” You pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself. It wasn’t the first time that you had turned down your best of friend for Archie. Lately it had been happening more than before. It made you feel like the worst pal.

“See you.” With that, Jughead hung up. You understood how he felt. It wasn’t right that you weren’t spending as much time with him.

“Jughead, wasn’t it?” You looked up and saw Archie sprawled across the black beanbag in your bedroom. His hands were attached on the new acoustic guitar his dad had got him for his birthday. You nodded and played with the sleeves of you sweater. Your friend continued strumming the strings of his instrument.

“Hey- I wrote this song last week, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. I’ve been trying to talk to Josie about her playing some of my compositions, but she’s not that into it. You’re her friend, right? Maybe you could listen to it and try to talk to her?” He asked questioningly.

“Of course, go ahead.” His fingers moved to the tuners and accorded them as his other hand rested on the waist of the guitar. A few seconds later, a pleasant melody filled the room. Archie then started singing the lyrics he had written. The song wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite catchy. The redhead friend of yours had talent. Before Archie could go on, you blurted out something you soon would regret.

“I’ll probably spend the day with him tomorrow.” The small tune that Archie had started suddenly came to an end. Archie hadn’t spoken to Jughead since this summer. The tree of you and Betty we’re supposed to go on a road trip the fourth of July but Archie left you hanging at the last minute. Since then, the boys stopped talking completely. When you mentioned one of  them to the other, you saw the irritation and annoyance in their expression.

“I thought you were coming to my game tomorrow. I’m playing in the varsity football team this year, remember?” You bet your lip and fiddled your hair with your fingers.

“I’m sorry Arch. I haven’t seen Jughead in a while now and I don’t want him to feel like I stopped being his friend. I’m making a vow that I’ll show up to your next game, how about that?”

“Why does it always have to be about him? Everything constantly has to be about Jughead.” Your were caught off guard by the sudden raise in his voice.

“That’s not it… I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”

“By ditching me at the last minute, that’s how your making things better? I didn’t think of you as an inconsiderate and selfish person.” He replied bitterly. In all the time of you guy’s friendship, you had never seen this side of Archie. Usually, he would be sweet and just shrug off any problem that faced his way. But the words he had just told you, they hurt your heart. Your eyes were starting to fill up with tears and your bottom lip started quivering.

“I’ve spent all my time with you for the last month. You. Not Jughead. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You know what? I don’t want to spend any more of my time with you right now.” With that, Archie got up and left you alone in your room. Without even noticing, a trail of tears had made its way down your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth and your hands covered your face as you poured your heart out. You laid in your bed and continued crying.

It was all your fault. Archie now hated you and would probably never talk to you again. Why did you had to be so stupid? If only you had kept your mouth shut. Maybe he still would have been on that beanbag, singing.

Maybe half an hour later, you heard the wooden creek of your door meaning that someone was coming in. You didn’t even move, your pillow pressed against your face. The mattress shifted to the side from the sudden weight that it now had on it. You felt a piece of your hair being put behind your ear. You smiled at the sweet gesture and assumed it was your mother. You slowly got up and saw Jughead sitting beside you. Automatically, you vaulted in his arms tearing up once again.

“Sssh. It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. Your forehead was against his chest, his two upper limbs protectively holding you. Your eyes were probably red from all the crying but you couldn’t care less. You continued sobbing in his chest until you eventually felt calmer.

“Why- Why are you here?” You asked with a small voice. Jughead gently whipped your cheek with his thumb.

“Your mom saw Archie leave in a rush and realized that you two probably had a fight. She heard you crying and thought that you would be more willing to speak about it with me than her.” You grinned at the boy.

“I ruined your shirt.” You noticed, and felt guilty.

“Nothing to worry about (y/n/n). I never liked that jersey anyway.” You giggle with your best friend. You sniffed and observed Jughead who his face was only about a foot away from you. You had to admit that he was good looking. His prefect blue eyes were mesmerising and his pink lips appeared so kissable. Forever you considered the boy as nothing more than a platonic relationship to you. Never had you ever felt anything for him. But in that moment, something clicked. Jughead wasn’t only a friend to you, not even a best friend.  A stronger feeling overwhelmed your body. You felt love. You loved Jughead Jones. 

He was the one who your mother called when you were sad. He was the one who came rushing to your house as soon as your mother hung up. He was the one who was holding you and comforting you, whispering sweet nothing to you as you were crying. He was the one who was there for you.

“Jughead.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“(y/n)?” You asked yourself in your mind if it was the right time to confess your feelings towards him. Your breathing started quickening as the anxiety rose in your core.

“I think I-” He watched you with intending eyes, indicating to continue your phrase.

“I think I love you.” Jughead eyeballed you, astonished at your revelation. He quietly answered, almost inaudible for you to hear.

“I think I love you too.” He leaned towards you and slowly pressed his lips to yours. Fireworks were going off in your stomach. The heaviness on your shoulders disappeared. In this moment, nothing else mattered in the world. Both of your lips moved in sync as you played with his raven locks. His arms pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you two. Jughead backed away and kissed every each of your face, including your cheeks, temple and chin.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a last long peck on the lips before saying,

“Do you want to lay down and cuddle with me?” He moved his head up and down calmly and took a blanket that was already on the bed to cover you. Cuddling was not something new for the both of you. You had always cuddled together, and whenever. His hand ran through your hair bringing a comforting and fuzzy feeling. His body pressed behind your back and his hot breath was tingling your neck. Before you even knew it, you and Jughead had fallen in a deep slumber, both dreaming about each other.

*gif is not mine!!


Stay  ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

There’s something beautiful about the summer- they way it creates a new version of reality where music sounds better and happiness feels sweeter. Parties can give the same kind of feeling where nothing feels real, but all of it feels great. Well, until the next morning.

This makes an end of the summer party the pinnacle of a new reality. Inhibitions run low and everything else is on overdrive. In a week they will all be students again, studying to ensure the best future possible. But for tonight they are 60% alcohol and 40% bad decisions.

“Y/N!” Jess squeals with excitement, running towards the girl who just entered the room. She had been away visiting family abroad for the majority of the summer, and while the beaches had given a whole new meaning to the word ‘paradise’, this was where she was truly happiest.

“Jess!” she returns the enthusiasm, hugging her best friend tightly. The warm breezes that blew in through her window every morning this past summer brought her comfort, but this was home.

“I want in,” Justin grins, approaching the two and enveloping them between his arms.

“God I’ve missed you guys,” she sighs contentedly.

“You have so much third wheeling to catch up on,” Jess teases light heartedly.

Her face twists up unpleasantly at the thought. She loves both Jess and Justin dearly, but she does not love the thought of third wheeling. “With all due respect, I think I’ll pass.”

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N?!” a fourth voice enters the picture, causing the trio to part and turn towards the person walking towards them.

Jeff Atkins. Baseball star and literal ray of sunshine with the face of an angel and the body of a Greek God.

“Hey, Jeff,” she laughs, walking away from Jess and Justin to meet him halfway.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Jeff grins warmly, brushing her arm with his hand. It’s a sweet gesture. He’s always been so sweet.

“It’s only been like two months,” she mirrors his grin. It’s impossible not to smile back at someone who radiates warmth the way he does.

“Feels like forever though. Especially since I was used to seeing you everyday at school. You look nice by the way,” he bumps her shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she chuckles, “I look like I always do.”


She bites her lips together before looking down shyly and letting them fall apart into a smile. Jeff Atkins was so genuinely good in a way that was uniquely him.

“Jeff!” Troy yells from the outside patio, “Beer pong, now, c’mon man!”

“Coming!” Jeff yells back to Troy, but turns back to her before walking away. “Come watch us play? You can practice cheering me on for baseball season,” his mouth twists into a smirk.

“Who says I’m gonna come to your baseball games?” She challenges playfully, using quick wit to redeem herself from the shy smile.

“Don’t break my heart, Y/N,” he pouts childishly, walking backward to join the boys for a game of beer pong but not breaking eye contact with her. He finally turns away from her to exit the house and join those outside, but not before mouthing a “pleaasssseeee” and sticking out his bottom lip.

“I’ll be there in a second!” she yells so he can hear her over the music.

His pout transforms into a grin before he disappears through the threshold, indicating that he heard her.

“So how about a double date instead of third wheeling?” Justin and Jess approach her with Justin wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh shut up,” her face heats up at the thought, “He’s a nice guy. He’s friendly with everyone.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t flirt with everyone,” Jess interjects, crossing her arms over her chest vindictively.

“He didn’t ask me to cheer for him,” Justin fakes offense, “Honestly I’m a little hurt.”

“Fuck off, Justin,” she laughs loudly, putting her hands over her face.

“You better get out there,” Justin presses, gesturing to the sliding door, “After all, it’s mine and Jess’s two month anniversary so an intense make-out session could happen at anytime.”

“Bye!” she turns on her heels quickly, running away from her friends before they could make things awkward, or more awkward.

Five cups of jungle juice and two games of beer pong later she’s sitting on a folding lawn chair watching Jeff singlehandedly win a third game of beer pong since Troy had wandered off and was bothering Hannah and Clay.

After sinking another shot, Jeff notices where Troy had gone. A brief look of panic flashes across his face before he mutters a quick, “be right back!”, making a beeline for Troy. Jeff was just about as invested in Clay and Hannah as Clay was in Hannah. She wondered just how much better off the world would be if everyone had the same heart as Jeff.

“Did you save the day?” she asks upon Jeff’s return. She’s quite drunk and seeing two of everything, including two Jeffs. How wonderful would that be? A world with two Jeff Atkins. Incredible.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles modestly, “It’s up to Clay.”

“Meanwhile that beer run is up to you, buddy” Troy points out, his words slurring together.

“Later man,” Jeff replies, picking up a ping pong ball.

“Because you definitely need more alcohol,” she rolls her eyes at Troy, a sick feeling blossoming in her stomach.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Y/N,” Troy retorts.

“Hey, relax,” Jeff snaps at Troy, “you’ll get your beer.”

The sick feeling in her stomach intensifies tenfold. She doesn’t want him to go, but she can’t beg him to stay. He’s not drunk, he would never jeopardize his life or anyone else’s so recklessly. But something about it still doesn’t feel right. He shouldn’t go.

She stands up, wobbling slightly. She grabs the back of her lawn chair to steady herself before heading back for the house. The twisting in her stomach is ominous in a way that refuses to be ignored.

“Where’re you going?” Jeff asks, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I need another drink,” she mumbles, brushing past him.

Three shots and a game of suck and blow later she’s feeling light and airy. All the anxiety from earlier has been replaced with a tingling feeling that reaches her feet. She’s quite hammered, and all the slip ups in suck and blow have her laughing and her sides aching. She’s starting to get lightheaded.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” she gasps in-between fits of laughter.

“Can you even walk?” Jess giggles.

“I’ll crawl if I have to,” she shrugs, stumbling her way out the door.

There’s nothing like the refreshing sensation of cool air hitting your skin after being cooped up in a house full of drunks, especially when you’re drunk yourself. The feeling of a breeze on her face is intoxicating in its own right, so she continues to walk around the outside of the house until she reaches the front.

There’s someone else at the front of the house, too. She can only see their back as they walk towards the row of cars, but she knows who it is. Suddenly she remembers why she felt the need to down three shots of vodka.

“Atkins,” she calls out, stumbling a bit as she walks forward.

He turns around at the sound of his name, smiling when he sees who it is. “Hey, you. Looks like you got that drink you wanted,” he laughs lightheartedly at her shaky balance.

“You making that beer run?” she asks, wringing her hands together nervously.

“Yeah. I’m not even a little buzzed, don’t worry,” he says soothingly.

“Stay,” she says softly.

“Huh?” he tilts his head to the side.

She continues to walk forward until she’s standing right in front of him, her weight falling to the side enough to make her falter. He reaches out to steady her, keeping a firm grasp on her side. She places her hands on his chest to steady herself before locking her eyes on his.

“Stay,” she repeats.

“Y/N, it’s okay I’m completely fine I promise. I only had two beers like two hours ago,” he assures, his voice gentle.

“I know, but it’s not like anybody needs anymore alcohol. I’m one of the more sober ones right now and that says a lot. Honestly I don’t even know how I made it out here on my own,” she sighs, “Just stay, please. ”

He looks at her softly, his eyes studying the worry etched onto her face. She feels so delicate in his grasp, like a porcelain doll that could shatter with too much pressure. He has always been enamored with her.

“Okay,” he moves his hands to hold her face, “I’ll stay.”

She lets out a heavy breath, letting her forehead rest against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. Maybe she was worrying over nothing, maybe she wasn’t, but she’s unexplainably relieved at those words.

“You gotta promise to watch me play baseball though,” he teases.

“I’ll be there every game with a sign that has your name on it,” she laughs, tilting her chin up to look at him.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he shakes his head,“I might just fall in love with you.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.”

“Don’t leave for two months at a time,” he counters, grinning boyishly.

“I’d stay right here forever if I could,” she tightens her arms around him.

“I’d kiss you if you weren’t like 10 drinks deep right now,” he laughs, rubbing her back gingerly.

“Let’s go inside. I need to get sober. Right now. Immediately,” she pulls away, grabbing his hand to tow him behind her. Their laughter echoes down the empty street as they run around to the back of the house.

There’s something beautiful about the end of summer- the way things begin to feel more permanent. A simple request can change so much. All he had to do was stay. And he did.


Gifs (X) (X)

Courting Gestures [Prince Sidon/Reader]

Title: Courting Gestures
Pairing: Prince Sidon x Reader [you]
Summary: Sidon has fallen in love with you and only desires a way to express that to you.

A/N: whaddup. been a while. i’ve been in a writing rut and stuck in the endless loop of lows from my depression and stuff, but i’m hoping i’ll get out of it soon.

i hope this is cute and fluffy and will make you happy. lemme know your thoughts and don’t forget to check out my other sidon fics if you haven’t already!


Mipha once exclaimed her love of Hylian courting gestures, often fixing her gaze elsewhere once under the inquisitive gaze of her younger brother. He observed how her eyelids fell heavy, her smile becoming but a taut, forced line. Soon enough, she had her back towards him, now fixated upon the vastness of the lake and the glittering jewels at its surface.

Her voice came moments later, mellifluous and calming, “Sidon, whomever your heart is drawn to, please give them a bouquet. It’s a beautiful gesture.”

Sidon turned his eyes up towards her and blinked.

Keep reading

Kang Daniel | Attraction

Originally posted by heartsjoker

prompt: you move into a new apartment complex. daniel’s your neighbor who owns the cats that always seem to find their way into your home…and your heart.

note: THE START OF MY DANIEL WEEK. so it’s my birthday week (my bday’s on the 26th of october hehe) and as a treat to myself, i’m posting a daniel story each day this week! annie @fromwannaone also requested this because she knew i was desperate for daniel requests :’) a true friend, y’all (also tagging @mongniel because who else should i share my daniel trashiness with than my dearest wife?)

Keep reading

Sunrise confessions

Word count: 1,531

Warning: Fluffy and cheesy as fuck (a few swear words?)

Author’s note: So, I’ve been suffering through PCD (post concert depression, as @shawn-bliss calls it haha) from Lauv’s show here and been listening to his songs non-stop. I’ve also been strangely emotional over the fact that this guy I’ve had very strong feelings for for a big chunk of my 20s is getting married today. My feelings for him are long gone but I look back at our history and remember this moment. Yes, this is loosely based on my own experience. But she gets a happy ending and I didn’t.  Hah. (Yes, he did call me special while we were at the beach waiting for the fucking sun to rise. For a moment, I felt like I was living in a romcom but nothing came of that because he actually had a girlfriend at the time and I was just stupid for him for way too long. Kids, if you think you’re stupid in your teens, you can get a whole lot stupid in your 20s. Let me warn you.) Also, I haven’t written fanfiction in at least five years. Not that I was profilic then either. I just felt like I needed to write this for my peace of mind and Shawn makes for the perfect male lead. I love and hate Mendes for that, by the way. 

Keep reading

REQUESTED: “could I request a fic where Credence is in the tub after a bad day & he’s just kinda curled up in the tub all sad & his s/o comes in w flowers & they talk for a bit (s/o tries to comfort him) but Credence is still kinda melancholy and s/o is like ‘fuck that/it’ takes their jacket & shoes and climbs in & giggles & kisses & possibly smut ensues~ thank you & I love this blog"

Warnings: Descriptions of a destructive mindset, but nothing too explicit.

Word Count: 1,508

A/N: This doesn’t have smut because I’ve had like zero energy lately, I’m sorry :// I hope it’s still okay!! :-)

It was easy to forget when he was surrounded by friends and loved ones that much of his life had been pretty horrible, to put it mildly, but now, sitting in the bathtub submerged in hot water, Credence couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with it, like every happy moment was just filler time until he was free to remember. Mostly, he was overwhelmed with thoughts of his Ma, so much so that he couldn’t help but fall completely victim to an onslaught of negative thoughts.

Sitting in this tub for so long, indulging in the warmth of the water and letting himself use frivolously scented soap, well, that certainly must be a sin. He could hear all those times that Mary Lou reprimanded him for standing in the shower for too long, that bodies aren’t meant for relaxing; they’re meant for doing the Lord’s good work.

Credence let himself slip further under the water, fighting tears at the memory of that seemingly forgotten voice, but then, his hair, grown long now that he didn’t have to sit in that creaking chair every Saturday as Mary Lou lopped off chunks of it to keep it from unruliness, began to swirl around his shoulders, sweeping across them and pressing to his neck and face as the strands separated and floated in the water. Credence couldn’t help but lift a hand to them, yanking with more force than he intended, fighting off the bile that rose with the rising awareness of his sin, the vanity he indulged when he looked in the mirror to style his hair and appreciate it afterward, the pride he fostered when his friends and significant other complimented it, the disorder it caused since it was not easily maintained. Perhaps his hair was his greatest sin of all.

But no, his greatest sin must be you. You, whom he loved so dearly and with all of his heart. Premarital sex, sex for pleasure, letting you touch him at all, that was sin. The pleasure he got from it, that was sin. Letting you love him when he was so wicked, that was sin. And of course, the fact that he loved you more than he ever loved the Lord that Mary Lou talked about, preached about, fought about… That was his greatest sin. The thought of what Mary Lou would do if she were here to learn of his wickedness, of the sin he had been allowed to succumb to in her absence was enough to have him shaking, crying, pulling his knees to his chest, and closing his eyes as tightly as he could. He should have known he couldn’t forget. A quick glance to his scarred hands would have made sure of it, even if it had been theoretically possible. Mary Lou had made sure her teachings were a part of him forever. Looking at him now, she would have been proud of her work.

Credence slipped further into the tub, his nose now just above the water, the bath water that was now collecting the tears that had picked up a steady stream down his face, and he couldn’t help but jolt bolt upright when he heard a knock on the bathroom door before it opened.

There you were, his greatest weakness, the reason he lived in sin. Looking at you, closing the door gently, trying to balance a bouquet of assorted flowers in one hand as you did so, an assortment you must have noticed him admiring earlier that week, and not fully facing him yet, he couldn’t help but cry harder because he wouldn’t give up the sin he lived in—he couldn’t, not when he loved you so completely. Did that mean there was no salvation for him? Did that mean he was damned? Had Mary Lou been right all that time?

When a cracked sob came from the tub, you turned as quickly as you could and took Credence in: raven black hair plastered to his neck and face, honey brown eyes made glassy with tears, face slightly swollen from crying, lips parted in a deep frown, breaths coming quickly and causing his chest to look slightly sunken with the force of them. It was a bad day.

You placed the bouquet on the counter by the sink gently before walking over to the tub and sitting gently on the lip of it, gazing down at Credence before cupping his face in your hand. You watched his eyes flutter closed as he released a shaky breath and slipped further under the water. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong, honey?”

Credence squeezed his eyes shut tighter at the term of endearment, one that he certainly didn’t deserve. “I’m a sinner.” His voiced rasped and cracked slightly from lack of use and from emotion. “She was…right. All that time, I…”

Getting up so that you could kneel by the tub instead and be closer to him, you brought your face near to his so that you could kiss his forehead and push his wet hair from his face. “Mary Lou, if she were really doing the work she said she did, would have acknowledged that we’re all sinners in the eyes of her God, Credence.”

Those beautiful eyes opened slightly so that you could see the color in them, and a tinge of hope too. “I guess… How do you know?”

You smiled gently at him, continuing to stroke your fingers through his hair. “My mother raised me on that Bible too, Credence. It may not mean so much to me anymore, but I remember the teachings. And we’re all sinners to Him. We just have to try our best. And part of trying our best is enjoying ourselves. Loving his other creations. Appreciating the life he gave us. Your mother just left those parts out to fit her own biases.”

His eyes were completely open now, looking at you with unhindered adoration and confliction. “It doesn’t mean much to me…anymore…either. Is that bad? I can… My mother’s voice… Am I wicked?”

You inhaled deeply and scratched lightly at his scalp before answering. “No, Credence. You were taught all the wrong things for a really long time by a really mean woman, and that makes it hard to let go. And there will be bad days like this one, but… You deserve the things you have, Credence. You aren’t wicked.”

He nodded at you and let his eyes fall closed again. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you realized he was still…low. You knew you couldn’t fix it, but you hated that he still had to go through this. You also knew you wouldn’t let him go through it alone. When you stood, his eyes opened again at the sound of your movements and widened as you kicked off your shoes and removed your jacket. “Do you mind if I join you, Credence?”

At his slow nod, you began taking off the rest of your clothes, blushing slightly at the pure love in his eyes. You still weren’t used to being loved so completely and reverently, especially by someone you loved just as much. You got in on the other end of the tub so that you could face him and wrapped your legs around his waist so that you could bring yourself closer to him, nearly in his lap. You cradled his face in your hands, stroking your thumbs just under his cheekbones and smiling when he let out a contented breath. “I love you so much, Credence…” You found yourself whispering.

His eyes opened again at that, just looking at you, taking you in. “I don’t know if I…deserve it.”

That hit you like a ton of bricks, right to the chest, and you simply shoved yourself forward in the water, not caring that water sloshed over the side of the tub, and pulling him into a hug, letting out a breathy, half-hearted laugh as your wet bodies slipped against one another.

Credence exhaled sharply too, but a sob followed as he finally moved his hands to clutch desperately at your back. “I love you, Y/N… I’m trying, but I…”

You pressed sloppy kisses to the slope of his neck and said, “Trying is all you can do, and it’s enough, Credence. I’m here on the bad days too. It’s us, remember?”

You pulled away as he nodded, resting your foreheads together and moving one hand to stroke his face again. “It’s us. Even… Even on bad days.”

You smiled broadly at the sound of his voice, more confident than it had been a moment before, despite its constant quiet, and moved back, gesturing for him to lean back against you. You stayed like that, his back pressed to your chest as you stroked patterns across his skin, long after the water had lost its warmth, and he wasn’t all better. Nothing had been fixed, but the more he relaxed against you, the clearer it became that good days would follow.


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His name was fear Part 1

Originally posted by inevitably-fangirl-trash

This should originally be a one shot but I’ve decided to make a serie out of it! This story will mostly include STALKING and other scary things so READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! This part is the beginning of it and I think it’ll iclude three other parts! I have no idea yet! (GIF is not mine!) Enjoy!

IMPORTANT: Harry in my story has nothing to do with the realy Harry just keep that in mind!

What is fear?

Fear makes you weak. Fear makes you vulnerable. Fear makes you helpless, not knowing what to do in certain circumstances. You lose your confidence. You’re not being yourself when you fear something.  When fear once holds on to you tightly, you will never get rid of it. It is stuck with you forever, almost like a good friend. Fear makes you doubt in people sometimes. Thanks, to fear you lose trust in a person until there is no one left to trust anymore. In fear of getting hurt, you stop relying on somebody.

There are probably other examples of fear. Fear of death. Fear of being left alone. Fear of darkness or of heights but also fear of people.

People can be the scariest creatures on earth. Let’s take psychopaths, serial killers, rapists as an example and the list even goes on and on. Some people like to see other’s in pain, even a little glimpse of fright in someone’s eyes is a satisfaction for them.

(Y/N) had never feared anything in her life until he came and turned everything upside down. She wanted to hide somewhere and never be found again. She became paranoid and after the horrific experience she had made, she was never the same.

It all started quite harmless. One night, (Y/N) and her friends from college just found themselves at the bar very close nearby to where (Y/N) apartment was. Her friends planned on spending some relaxed time, getting drunk and dancing around and meeting new people. (Y/N) did not want to agree on going at first because she barely was a girl who partied and also she had to study a lot for upcoming exams and had to prepare some projects. Her friends needed to convince her to come and chill otherwise (Y/N) would never step a foot outside.

His name was Harry, the man (Y/N) feared so much, and on that night at that bar she met him for the first time. He was quite attractive with his deep green eyes, dimpled smile and tiny curls on his head and (Y/N) felt thousand sparks when she exchanged a few words with him. He simply was a very charming type of guy.  She really started to like him even though she got to know him for one or two hours.

“Do you want to dance?” Harry asked her, stretching his hand out for her. The young woman nodded and Harry led her to the dance floor.

She felt his hands roaming over her body and she fully enjoyed the attention he was giving to her. Of course one thing led to another and they both landed in her bed for a nice fuck session. She did not remember too much of that night afterwards honestly because her system was intoxicated by an amount of alcohol. She knew she just felt sexy and wanted as Harry pushed in and out of her.

However when she woke up the day after, Harry was gone but left a notice with his number written on it. She was completely confused, she’d rather have him stay instead of running away like a coward. And the feeling she had the night before vanished and she instantly was disgusted with herself. She felt used. With tears in her eyes, she rubbed off the trace of his lips left behind of her body.

The next time they saw each other was at Starbucks. (Y/N) just needed one coffee before she headed to college. It would be a long day for her and only an amount of caffeine could help her from not stressing out and her head from not exploding.

When she was about to line up to order her favorite coffee, she accidently bumped into someone and as their eyes met, (Y/N) instantly recognized the face and a blush crept its way on her cheeks.

“Hi.” Harry greeted her smilingly, his dimple full on display. (Y/N) had to admit that he looked very cute.

“Hey…” She stuttered nervously. Her heart slammed so heart against her chest and breathing became a challenge for her.

“It’s nice to see you again.” He said.

“Yeah.” She only responded, still blushing and then it was her turn to order. Harry observed her features the entire time. She was so beautiful, very pretty and Harry was determined to have her all for himself.  He would have her all for himself.

(Y/N) paid for her drink and wanted to leave as Harry held her back from her intention to exit the store.

“Why don’t we just sit down and chat for a bit?” He gestured to one of the free places, he really wanted to get to know her however (Y/N) shrugged him off.

“I have to go at college.” She replied shortly.

“I can take you, if that’s okay for you. It’s no problem for me.” And his offer was declined by her.

“I’m sorry Harry.. uh..”

“I know I was an asshole to you (Y/N). Shouldn’t have left you without an explanation and I just want to take you out to make things right. If you let me?”

“Yeah, uh.. Listen I have to go now, okay?” With no saying goodbye, she hurried towards the exit, leaving Harry completely alone.

“See you soon…”  He whispered after her however (Y/N) could not see the mischievous grin on his lips. She was so innocent, so pure. Harry couldn’t put into words how intrigued he was by her. He would make sure that no one was able to get her because he was the only man who could. And he would do anything to achieve his goal.

If (Y/N) knew what she was getting herself into, she would have probably never agreed on getting involved with him.

There is something you should know about Harry. He had a dark side. A very dark side. He was capable of so many things that you would not expect. Stalking was his passion and (Y/N) would be his next victim.

Harry was simply FEAR itself.

The Wedding (Part 1)

@starss-eternal asked:  Yay! Congrats on almost 800!!! Can you do a Rowaelin wedding fic please!!!

Thank you! And I also got a liiiitle carried away on this one, so im splitting it into 2 (or more) parts.

Part 1 is 1200 words!

Send me a prompt to celebrate reaching 800 followers!


“Big day today, prince,” Fenrys drawled, clapping my bare shoulder. “And an even bigger night afterwards, eh? At least, it would be if I were the one marrying Aelin-”

I cut him off with a growl, shooting him an icy glare. “That’s my wife you’re talking about. Just remember that.”

Fenrys smirked, teeth white against his bronze skin. “She’s not your wife yet, brother, I could still-“ I restricted the air in his lungs, causing him to gasp.

“Actually,” I said, baring my canines at him, “She is my wife. This is just the formal ceremony. Which I will gladly have you locked out of if you don’t shut your damned mouth.”

Was I being harsh? Probably. Did I care? Not really.

I glanced at the door, which had opened to reveal golden Ashryver hair and turquoise eyes. “What’d he do this time?” Aedion asked, hanging his freshly pressed suit coat on the rack.

I reeled in my magic, coiling the icy thread back into the depths of my being. Fenrys drew in a long breath of fresh air, glaring up at me. Honestly, it was his own fault. Usually, I could brush off Fenrys’ taunts and spit back some of my own. But today, my nerves were too frayed to react any other way.

“Insulted my wife.” With one last smirk in Fenrys’ direction, I slipped on my white shirt and buttoned up the front. I decided that I never wanted to wear a suit again in my life. The tightness of the fabric constricted the movements of my arms, making me feel more vulnerable than I ever had before. Aedion clucked his tongue at Fenrys, wagging a finger in his direction.

“Fenrys, you dumbass. You should know better than to fuck with him on his wedding day.” Aedion rolled his eyes, shoving Fenrys out the door despite his protests to remain. Thank the Gods.

“How do I look?” I asked, turning to Aedion and straightening my Terrasen green tie. The tie had been at my insistence, as Aelin had wanted me to wear the traditional black. But I wanted to display the pride I had in my country, and in its queen.

“Like a handsome groom,” he grinned, slipping his cufflinks through the holes in his sleeves. “Aelin’s gonna be drooling in the aisle.” I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror and running a shaky hand through my tousled hair. My eyes were shining with excitement and anticipation, appearing to be a darker forest green thanks to the tie.

“I think I’ll be the one drooling, if I know my mate at all.” Certainly, she’d pick out a dress that she knew would drive me crazy. I shrugged on my coat, giving myself a once over. My tattoos stood out starkly against my skin, which was darker than it had been in the previous months. I’d cropped my hair close to  my head, but left it long enough for Aelin to run a nimble-fingered hand through.

“Speaking of which, why don’t you go make sure the ladies are ready? Aelin walks in ten minutes.”

Aedion barked a laugh. “Gods know they take forever to get ready.”

The moment he slipped out the door, I sighed. I glanced at my hands, clenching them into fists in an attempt to quell the shaking. Why was I so nervous? We were already married in the eyes of the gods, on that stolen night so many years ago. It wasn’t like she was going to suddenly reject me, not after everything we had been through.

No, she was stuck with this territorial Fae bastard forever.



Lysandra’s excited squeal grated against my ear drums as I stepped out from behind the screen, clothed in my wedding gown.

“Beautiful!” she exclaimed, causing me to wince.

“I know I’m drop dead gorgeous, Lys, but can you tone it down a little?” She rolled her eyes at me, reaching out to pick some lint off my dress.

“See for yourself.” Her green eyes sparkled when she gestured to the floor length mirror at the side of the room. I stepped over to it, gasping as I beheld my reflection.

It was a beautiful dress. The seamstress had done a wonderful job, the deep green silk hugging every one of my natural curves. The skirts hissed against the ground as I turned, peering over my shoulder. The lace-trimmed vee of the backless gown left my scars and tattoos on full display; the center of attention. I wanted them to be seen. I wanted everyone to know that I was not ashamed of the hell I went through for my people, and that I wouldn’t slink into a corner and let my past consume me.

“Wow,” I breathed, meeting Lysandra’s eyes in the mirror. A grin cracked my painted red lips. “Rowan’s going to loose his shit.” Her eyes widened slightly before she burst into a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach. I followed suit, a carefree giggle bubbling out of me.

“And how do you think Aedion will react to mine?” She asked, sitting me down in front of the vanity to curl my hair.

“You could be wearing that bright orange ruffled atrocity we saw at the tailors and he would still loose his mind.” She laughed again, absorbed in her work. It was true though, the love those two shared was similar to that of Rowan and I. Unyielding, endless, and unjudging.

A knock sounded at the door, and Lysandra sashayed to open it. “Speak of the devil.”

Aedion’s golden blond head poked in the room, and he winked at her before letting his gaze roam over her, eyes clouding with lust as he surveyed the simple lace gown that left nothing to the imagination. I cleared my throat, snapping my cousin from his stupor.

“I don’t think Rowan is quite prepared for that dress,” he said, and I spun to give him a view of the back. He let out a low whistle, nodding in appreciation.

Definitely not prepared,” he laughed, then added softly, “It’s lovely, Aelin. He’s going to love it.” He glanced at the clock, sucking in a breath.

“I know, I know!” I said, holding up my hands. “I’m on in five minutes.” In five minutes time, I’d walk down the aisle to wed the love of my life. My brilliant Fae warrior, who beheld my scars and did not balk at the sight. The only male who knew every inch of my soul and still accepted me exactly as I was.

My Rowan.

“We’d better get going,” Lysandra chimed, smoothing the folds of her dress. “I’ll go ahead and make sure Rowan’s already left.” I nodded, taking the elbow that Aedion offered.

“Here we go.”

The Dashing Florist. CS AU.

So this is my first shot at a one shot - since the word count is 11,579, I guess I didn’t succeed all that well. Sorry! 

Anyway, this fic is gifted to @lenfaz for her birthday, Happy Birthday shipmate, as she mentioned she would like this to happen in her reblog of the original prompt post  I hope you enjoy it Lena. 

Thanks as always to my incredible beta @ilovemesomekillianjones and her continuing encouragement for me to write whatever my crazy muses throw at me. You’re the best!

Also available on AO3 and FFN

The door jingled as it was roughly pulled open, the sweltering heat followed Graham Humbert as he stormed into the office.

“He’s done it again,” an accented voice rang through the space.

“Done what?” a muffled voice called back. Graham followed the sound and found a very pert ass sticking out from under a desk.

“He’s parked his delivery van in one of our bays. August is looking for somewhere to park that doesn’t involve a three-block hike.”

The body under the desk wriggled back a little, then there was a sharp crack, followed by a ‘fuck’, and finally his boss pulled her lithe body from under the furniture.

Emma rubbed her head where it had collided with the desk as she stood. “This is the third time this week,” she grumbled. “And it’s only Tuesday.”

“I know. You have to do something about it, Em. We need our vehicles on hand, not miles away.”

“I know,” Emma agreed on a tired exhale, brushing her hands off on her black skinny jeans. “And I’ve told him this as many times as I can remember. I pay way too much for the privilege of those parking bays and he thinks he can just…” she stopped mid-rant. “You know, I’ve had enough of his shit. Maybe it’s time to do something that will get the message through his thick hair.”

“His what?” Graham asked.

“What?” Emma responded, unclear on what he was asking her.

“You said thick hair.” Maybe she hit her head harder than I thought, he mused.

You know what I mean, Graham. Time to get the message through his thick skull,” Emma exaggerated the word, nodding once in self assurance before she marched for the door.

“Hey, now, Swan. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like flash him your boobs. Not everyone is pulled toward their magnificence.”

Emma protectively cupped her breasts. “Don’t listen to him girls, there isn’t a man alive able to resist your charms.”

Graham laughed at her as she left.

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Arranged Love Pt.18 | Jungkook

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 14.5 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

Summary: When you and Jungkook are forced into an arranged marriage for publicity, you never expected to find yourself falling for him - even if you know it’s wrong.

Word Count: 4,093

Genre: Fluff/angst

A/N: Be warned that this is the second last chapter though I think I might write a small epilogue. :’) Also, if you really want to immerse yourself into these last few chapters, totally listen to Jungkook’s cover of Nothing Like Us and die softly with me. 

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redhearthyuck  asked:

69 and 71 for Donghyuck??☺️ maybe some kind of soulmate AU?? But please do whatever you like ☺️ thank you so much

prompt: 69.“We are not going to steal someone’s dog.” & 71.“You don’t get to pick and choose. You’re stuck with me.”

For you, my true colour | DONGHYUCK

summary: you know you’ve found your soulmate when the grey of their eyes turn out to be the most beautiful colour you’ve ever seen.

Originally posted by haenyan

» Genre: soulmate!au & florist!donghyuck | fluff

» Pairing: Donghyuck / Reader [part. Mark Lee]

» Word count: 1 569

» a/n: sorry!! i took eons to post this but i was so busy :((( anyway, i hope you enjoy ^~^ 

There were a great amount of things that Lee Donghyuck hated with his entire heart and soul, though if he was asked to pick just one to admit his hatred, he’d probably say it was the inability of seeing the true colour of someone’s eyes. Donghyuck didn’t believe that every single person in the planet had a different colour in their iris, making them unique.

What a lie, he scoffed, there was no uniqueness.

And because the entire universe had grey eyes—as he was just able to see that one colour on others—he loved working at the floristry. The small plants in his hands had all sort of pigments and shades; he discovered that blue was astonishing and pastel purple was really real, and oh, how he wanted to have his eyeballs painted with that hue. He grabbed and orchid—his favourite—and inhaled the scent of it; the perfume inundating his lungs and causing so much dizziness due to the dulcet smell. Donghyuck smiled, would his soulmate like orchids too?

“You daydream a lot.” A voice spoke, calling Donghyuck back to reality.

He shrugged. “I was just taking care of the flowers, Mark.”

“You were not,” Mark, his workmate, touched his shoulder as he’s comforting the younger boy “You were wondering when you’re meeting your soulmate.”

“I was not.”

“Yes you were.” Mark smiled; a true and genuine gesture of solace. “I guarantee, when you meet them you’ll fall immediately.

Donghyuck stared deep inside his friend’s eyes. “How am I supposed to know if I am not just falling for anyone?”

Mark took a deep breath and “You’ll see the colour of their eyes.”

It was an immense and heavy truth to be carried. The Universe worked in a pretty confusing manner, not giving Donghyuck an opportunity to understand every step he was taking, every decision he was making and every pair of eyes he was staring. His mother said that soulmates were not actually real—bullshit, she said, it’s just a lie to turn people into lovely and sweet beings—that it was just occasional to meet someone you liked so much, and he certainly thought she was right. But Mark’s words came out as ton, hitting him in the stomach just like he was punched; the thought of being able to see someone else’s eye colour for the first time and then, after the once, forever… Oh, that’s too much of an achievement, too much of a dream.

Inside his heart a flame burnt, telling him to trust and have faith on the universe; though, if he hadn’t met anyone until seventeen, when would he? Mark and his other friends told Donghyuck, not once but ninth times, that if you—in any hypothesis—feel reluctant about finding your soulmate, it’d never happen. Not until you were ready.

He had to be credulous and let destiny run its own path. However, Donghyuck did not believe in destiny.

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My Girl

Requested by @nunchiwrites <3

Sorry this took forever! :( I had a lot of different ideas on this so I consulted my friend and she chose this one. And then I got writer’s block like nobody’s business. That’s why it took so long.

Also, thank you to @laineylovegirl for helping me write this and actually writing most of it, TBH! <3 You’re amazing!

Genre: X Reader, Vampire AU

Member(s): Chanyeol <3

POV: First person

Warning(s): alcohol, swearing, ummmm…Vampires, Werewolves, fighting, blah blah blah

Summary: You go out with a friend and somehow end up in a predicament. Lucky for you, someone and his friends just so happen to be there. Also lucky for you, someone is a sweetheart and not an asshole.

Originally posted by starricks-moustache

^Vampire Yeollie in action😂

“Sora,” I whined, pouting like a child. “Do I have to go in there?”

She made a face, nodding her head.

“C’mon, Y/N, we already discussed this.” She chided, squeezing my arm. “Remember, this morning?”

I scowled, remembering the conversation she referred to.

“Y/N, you never do anything fun. You should come out with me tonight.” She said, arms crossed as she looked me up and down.  “You’ve stayed up for one full night, what’s the harm in staying up another?”

“Please, no…” I groaned, rubbing at the bags under my eyes. They certainly weren’t Gucci bags. Nope, those were the eye-bags of someone who had stayed up 24 hours studying and was living solely off of coffee and granola bars. How she thought I needed to party and not sleep, I wasn’t sure.

“What were you planning on doing tonight then, hmm? Why not have a good time?”

“Sleeping sounds like a good time to me.”

She scoffed, shaking her head.

“I’m dragging you out with me tonight, whether you’re awake or not.” She retorted, walking out of the kitchen.

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Murderer, Traitor, Thief


RATING: Explicit

SHIP: Reylo


SUMMARY: Ben Solo is the worst kind of rogue, and he’s earned every name that the galaxy has given him. But when a scavenger girl tries to steal his ship on Jakku, he can’t bring himself to leave her behind.

NOTES: God bless @reylotrashcompactor, who both prompted this fic and saved me from crippling doubt about it when I was afraid it was no good. Thank you for all that you do for me, sweetpea. (Also, whoever catches the Game of Thrones reference in this fic gets a gold star and much respect from me.)

He’s a cruel man, a boy lost and afraid of the dark, a trouble-maker fleeing from the light. Running is the only thing he knows how to do; it’s the only thing he’s ever really done.

The price on Ben’s head goes up with each passing year. Between the targets he’s killed and the crimes that have been attributed to him, he can count on the galaxy’s best bounty hunters to be riding his coattails at any given time. Not that this bothers him. Shooting blaster bolts through politicians’ hearts is easy work, and he’ll welcome anything to break the boredom. That’s why he still smuggles spice and steals from businessmen; those jobs aren’t half as lucrative as high-paying hits, but they keep things interesting.

Still, staying ahead of Republic law, the Jedi, and a small army of bounty hunters requires speed. He needs a fast, dependable ship, something one-of-a-kind that can facilitate his work and still get him out of tight spots.

That’s why, when he hears that his father’s freighter might be on Jakku, he leaves for the Western Reaches immediately. Maybe it’s petty or sentimental, but he’s always felt that the Millennium Falcon should be his.

She counts up, counts down, counts on. Her endless days scratched into unforgiving metal, carrying a little girl’s dreams in a lonely woman’s heart.

It takes weeks of deliberation for Rey to make her choice, but once she’s decided, she knows that it’s the only option left to her. It’s a number that makes the answer clear: three thousand eight hundred-nineteen. She counted the tally marks on her wall for the first time, and it isn’t until then that the weight of them hits her. Ten standard years, and then some. That’s how much time she’s spent in this broken imperial walker, scavenging and starving.

And that doesn’t even encompass the years she spent in Unkar Plutt’s cruel care, before she had any freedom at all, any wall of her own to mark upon. To leave her here for so long, her parents are either dead or uninterested in her survival, and Rey is tired of waiting.

“It will be better this way,” his mother says, but all he can think is: better for me, or better for you? It’s a hard question to ask, but an easy one to answer, and he can’t stay where he isn’t wanted. He won’t.

Jakku is a dump the likes of which Ben rarely seen—and that’s saying something, since he’s killed targets on more worlds than most people have even heard of. It’s insulting that the Falcon ended up here, of all places. Dad would be horrified, he thinks, before he remembers that he’ll never see his father again.

His parents threw him away. Handed him over to Luke like a fish thrown back into a river, something unnecessary that it was easier to get rid of than to keep. So it isn’t very hard for Ben to keep to his most important principle: never go home.

He stops a local alien, some ruddy, spindle-necked creature, and says, “Where can I find the owner of that ship?”

When he gestures at the Falcon, the alien says, “Just about everything around here belongs to Unkar Plutt. That’s his blockhouse, right over there.”

Ben gives the alien a diatium cell, the kind that used to power lightsabers. Salvage should be better payment than credits, if he’s heard right about this junkyard world.

The alien thanks him profusely, then hurries over to the blockhouse to trade with Plutt. Ben sees him leave a few minutes later with a net full of vile-looking emergency rations, hauling a generator behind his new-used speeder.

Ben doesn’t have to pay Plutt anything, of course. All it takes is a simple mind-trick, the kind of thing he mastered long before his parents sent him off to train with Luke.

“You’ll give me the ship of my choice for free,” he says.

Plutt nods, his eyes glazed over. “I’ll give you the ship of your choice for free.”

And just because the junk-boss rubs him the wrong way, Ben tells him to hand out every portion he has to the scavengers. With a little luck, oversaturating the Niima market with its primary commodity will put Plutt out of business.

Her hope beats to the rhythm of, “Wait here. We’ll come back for you.” So she stays, and stays, and stays, until the day she can’t. Until her hope turns to stone, like the rest of her.

Rey is halfway through hotwiring Unkar Plutt’s garbage freighter when she hears someone coming up behind her. She reaches for her quarterstaff, but it’s too late, he’s already there, and—she’s frozen, not from fear or lack of nerve, yet truly well and caught, her body held rigid by some terrifying energy. She feels like a fly in a cactus spider’s web, hopelessly immobile, waiting to be preyed upon. No matter how she struggles, she’s stuck, trapped, helpless.

“Stop panicking.” She hears him before she sees him. With her back to the body of the ship, Rey can only look out the viewport at the Jakku sands, at the grotty business of Niima Outpost.

She feels him take her quarterstaff, hears the clunk and rattle of it hitting the floor. Then his hold on her body melts away, and Rey spins around, unsteady but still standing.

The Force, Rey thinks. A mystery out of legends, one she only half-believed in.

The stranger is tall and well-built, large enough to tower over her, dressed all in black. He’s soft-featured, with warm eyes and a generous mouth, his fair skin dotted with beauty marks. He’d look almost pretty if not for his too-big nose and the off-kilter angles of his face. There’s something handsome but strange about him, yet familiar too, and then she recognizes him.

“You’re Ben Solo,” Rey says.

He smirks. “I’m surprised that you get enough news out here to know who I am.”

Rey almost laughs. “Everyone knows who you are.”

Rumor has it that he abandoned his uncle’s Jedi school when he was fourteen, then lived everywhere from the streets of Coruscant to the palaces of Ulon, picking up the mercenary work that’s made him infamous. He’s killed diplomats, Senators, business moguls, and kings. Stolen from the Hutts and spice syndicates and Revika Di. Ben Solo is wanted across half the galaxy for assassinations, treason, and grand larceny—and now she’s gotten on his bad side.

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ohsotiny  asked:

Hello my lovely Rae! For the writing prompts can I request KakaSaku "It’s not about safety."

I’m not even sure what happened or what I just created. My characters don’t listen to what I want them to do and both of these idiots just kind of fucked off and did their own thing today.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sakura was hard pressed to remember not to add chakra in to her strike as her fist met the solid wooden desk she stood in front off. The beautiful oak cracked under the blow anyway, tiny spider veins skittering away and she knew she would regret it later. It was a nice desk. 

“You know I love you Kakashi but you can be so incredibly dense sometimes! I said give me one good reason why we shouldn’t. All that you’ve given me so far is drivel.” She glared at him as best she could - and she had a pretty damn good glare.

Kakashi didn’t look overly impressed with her display. He hunched a little farther in to himself and raised both elbows on to his desk so he could drop his face in to his hands. He had taken off his official Hokage robes and the hat had been thrown carelessly in to the corner. His headband had been tugged off at the start of their argument so he could run his hands agitatedly through his hair. She could usually tell how upset he was by how messy his hair got. Today it was nearly standing on end and tangled around itself in angry snarls. 

“I never said that I didn’t want to Sakura. All I asked was that you take the time to consider whether it’s really what you want.” He didn’t look up from the desk as he spoke. “Why are we arguing about getting married? Isn’t that supposed to be a happy thing to talk about?” A part of her recognized that when he stopped being able to look at her it was a bad sign and she should back off. Another part of her didn’t care because she was angry. She had never been good at caring when she was angry. It was one of her biggest flaws. 

“Maybe because usually when people talk about it both parties are happy about the idea!” She shouted. “You say you want to marry me but I don’t hear you asking. All I hear is you pushing me away with excuse after excuse!” 

Kakashi sighed and lifted his head to give her a weary look. The tired furrow of his brow did nothing to hide the hurt in his eyes before he looked away again. 

“I’m not trying to push you away. I want to know that you have considered everything that this means, everything that this changes. We both knew going in to this that there are certain downsides to you being in a relationship with me. Marrying me-” When she cut him off his jaw snapped shut and clenched in obvious annoyance. 

“Oh not this again!” Sakura threw her hands up in the air. “Please, please do not drag this old argument out of the closet. I am so tired of hearing ‘I have lots of enemies’ and ‘they might try to use you to get to me’.” She made blah-blah motions with her hands and mocked his tone of voice as she imitated him. “If you spend even one second thinking that I can’t handle myself then you can taste my fist on the training grounds mister. I am perfectly safe-” This time is was him that cut her off.

“It’s not about safety!” He burst out, standing up with a violent jerk that sent his tall chair flying backwards. “It’s about me not deserving you!” 

Sakura stared at him, jaw gaping open. She certainly hadn’t expected that. 

“All I asked was that you take the time to consider whether this was what you wanted, Sakura!” Kakashi gestured wildly with his arms, looking aimlessly off in to space as he shouted. “Because if we get married that’s it! You’re stuck with me! Do you even understand the political fall-out that would hit you if you changed your mind and filed for divorce? Or what if you changed your mind but stayed to avoid that? You would be stuck in this loveless marriage, coming home to me every day and wishing you could escape, growing to hate me more and more every day and I…I couldn’t stand to watch that happen.” 

All the fight seemed to drain out of him as his speech wound down with that final statement. Sakura’s jaw continued to hang open and she could do little more than keep staring for a few minutes. Kakashi’s arms dropped to his sides and he just sort of hung there like a rag doll with its strings cut, staring vacantly at anything but her. 

When she was finally able to move she tiptoed around the desk and reached out to brush her fingers against her lover’s arm. 


“I love you,” he whispered. “You are so far above me and I thank fate every day for allowing me to have you. I’ve done nothing in my life to deserve the things you give to me. Losing you would hurt me. Watching your love turn to hate would break me.” His voice broke and he took a shaky breath, visibly trying to steady himself. “All I wanted was for you to think about it. To make sure you were…sure.” 

Sakura was sniffling as she took the last step forward to throw her arms around Kakashi’s neck. He hesitated before returning the embrace, drawing her body in close to his and burying his face in her hair. 

“I love you so much,” she said to his chest. “I don’t have to think about it because I am sure.” She felt his muscles tensing and tightened her grip as she hurried to continue. “But if you want me to take a bit more time to consider everything I will. If it will put your mind at ease I don’t mind.” He huffed against her. 

“I can’t lose you like that,” he said. She nodded.

“You won’t.”

If all Kakashi needed was for her to take a little time, she realized, it was a small price to pay for forever. 

No Regrets - Bellamy Blake

Request: Can you do one where you and Bell have been friends for forever and then u guys have a one night stand and agree to pretend it never happened but you realize you have feelings for him and you end up confessing them pleaseeee
Requested by: Anonymous
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader
A/N: This sounded pretty cool and its like 9:00pm where I am so I was like sure.
Warnings: Lol like you care tho. Kinda smut.

Originally posted by bellamyblake-imagine

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Christmas Magic ~ Fred Weasley imagine

 I was hoping you’d do a Fred Weasley Imagine? It’s Christmas and we’re at Headquarters. He and I have been dating for awhile. When Molly calls everyone down from Harry and Ron’s bedroom Fred and I are the last to dinner. Somehow Fred catches me under a mistletoe (or something special like it) and after we kiss he asks me to marry him (it’s our last year). I say yes to him and we go into the kitchen. Tonks(my aunt) notices the ring and asks about it. After Fred tells everyone the news all the girls surround me and start talking about wedding plans. Meanwhile George pulls Fred to the side. He, jokingly, asks “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Freddie?”. Fred looks at me and just smiles, saying “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

~Christmas Magic~

The Burrow was beautifully decorated with Christmas flair. A large tree in the corner of the living room was covered in shiny tinsel and ornaments, a few gingerbread houses here and there, stockings hung by the fireplace, and everyone there had a big smile on their face. 

Your boyfriend, Fred Weasley, had invited you to spend Christmas with him at the Burrow, and you happily agreed. Every time you visited the Burrow, the Weasleys always made you feel welcome. 

This Christmas, everyone was buzzing around, trying to get Christmas dinner finished. You were upstairs with Hermione and Ginny, simply chatting about the holidays. You always asked how their classes were and how much you would miss them once you leave, since this is your last year at Hogwarts. Then they would say that they’d see you a bunch after considering that you were dating Fred. 

Mrs. Weasley walked into the room you were in and gave you a smile. “Could you girls tell everyone that dinner is ready?” She asked sweetly. You nodded and so did Hermione and Ginny. You walked around upstairs, telling Harry and Ron to get going downstairs. 

Finally, you had gathered everyone and they all began making their way to the dining room. You were the last one down, and once you made it to the bottom of the staircase, Fred magically appeared in front of you. You jumped back in surprise, almost falling over. “Fred Weasley! Don’t do that again!” You said, letting out a laugh. Fred smirked.

“Hello, (Y/N). Enjoying the Christmas so far?” Fred asked, giving you a peck on the lips.

“I am. But we better get going for dinner” You said with a smile. 

“Not yet” He grinned. He gestured you to look above you, so you did, and you noticed that a mistletoe hung above you two. You chuckled and looked back at Fred. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him, pressing his lips against yours. You kissed him back, a smile sneaking its way into the kiss.

Finally, you both pulled away, breathless. Fred smiled as if he had something on his mind. 

“What?” You asked, smiling also. 

“I have something to tell you, (Y/N)” Fred said.


Fred took in a deep breath. “(Y/N), these four years we’ve been dating have been the most fun and wonderful years of my life. I still remember how we met: I was trying to prank one of the teachers, but you ended up being the victim instead, and we had gone through that whole week pranking each other back and forth”  Fred said, pausing to laugh a little. 

“But I want those years to last forever. (Y/N), I love you. So, I have a very important question to ask" 

Fred got down on one knee and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. When he opened it, inside sat a beautiful, diamond ring. Your eyes became wide and your hands flew over to cover your mouth. ”(Y/N), will you marry me? And put up with my stupid shenanigans forever?“ 

You let out a laugh, a tear falling down your cheek. You couldn’t find the words to say yes, so you nodded, more tears running down your face. Fred smiled and slid the ring onto your ring finger. He stood back upp and you leaped into his arms, crying tears of happiness into his shoulder. You looked back up to him and he wiped away the remaining tears on your face before kissing you again. 

"Come on, they’re waiting for us” Fred said, taking your hand in his. You both made your way into the dining room and sat down at the table, a smile still glued onto your face. 

“Finally! What took you two so long? I’m starving!” Ron said, looking at the feast that sat in front of him. You looked over at Fred and smiled. “Alright everyone! Dig in! Merry Christmas!” Mrs. Weasley announced. You helped yourself to the food in front of you, and then your aunt Tonks noticed the ring on your left hand. Her eyes widened. “Fred?! Did you do what I think you did?” She said louder than intended. Everyone turned their attention to you and Fred. 

He looked over at you and gave you a nod that said “Show them”. You put your hand up and showed everyone the ring. “Fred! You proposed!” Mrs. Weasley said in awe. 

Suddenly, all the girls ran over to you, and had already began to discuss wedding plans. “Freddie!” George called out from the other side of the room. Fred walked over to George.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” George said jokingly. Fred looked over at you and grinned. “I know exactly what I’m getting myself into”.


Thank you for requesting!

My Lady.

Titled: ‘My Lady’ 

Pairing: Gaston x reader

Warnings: ANGST 

A/N: Sorry not sorry about this one…

Word Count: 844 

Tagging@girl-next-door-writes  @captainemwinchester @little-red-83@impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt@hobbithorse19@feelmyroarrrr@lefouismylife@redimagines@letowolfie@ciaprincess@speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lanielenawrit@pancake74433 @certainasthesvn@with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli shiroyuki18@ironicallyimnotamouse@ciaprincess@erreneous@gawston@benedictcumberbatchstolemyheart @pureawesomeness001 @ronijdubb@norrihiddleskittycap@oh-snap-its-mildred @afairytaledream 

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pairing: michael x reader

word count: 1,685

this is super super super angsty so beware

Your head was in your hands, apathetic towards the little streams of stale tears lying under your eyes. He sat across the room, staring off into space as fraught breaths passed his lips. Lifting your head, noticing how much of a struggle the simple act instantly became, you looked over at him and sighed. “Nobody said it would be easy.”

“Nobody said it would be this hard, either.” He retorted, continuing to stare into thin air. His eyes were glossed over, with dark bags hanging underneath them indicating the lack of sleep he’s gotten recently. “It’s not supposed to be this hard.”

Shaking your head, you pushed yourself forcefully away from the table, walking over to the large window and staring out of it in thought. You looked at all the windows of the building across the street, how few of them were lit up with families all congregating at the dinner table and sharing joyous conversation. You wished that was you. “I guess other people just get lucky.”

Your comment really hurt Michael, causing him to shut his eyes tightly to keep the tears from spilling out. He sucked in a curt breath at the sentence and trembled. “Please don’t say that.”

“Well what do you want me to say, Michael?” You asked tiredly, turning around to face him, but he didn’t look at you. “Are you too scared to even look at me anymore?”

“I’m just confused.” He said, finally succumbing to the pressure and tearing his eyes open, showing off his eyes that were once bright and full of life, but were now dull and sad. “Love isn’t supposed to feel like this.”

“What does it feel like to you?” You questioned, intrigued by his statement.

Biting on his bottom lip and darting his eyes away just for a single second, he exhaled. “It feels…confining. I feel guilty.”

Your heart quaked. “Why?” 

“Because…” He trailed off, blinking slowly as if to stall. “It feels forced, now.”

The tension in the room quickly built up behind his confession, leaving you heartbroken and helpless. It wasn’t much of a difference from the past few months, though. The stress on your relationship was at an all-time-high and you two fought more than anything. He was controlling, and you were demanding. 

“You don’t feel anything towards me anymore, do you?” 

Slowly, he shook his head. “Just regret.”

You choked on a breath, the tears welling up again and you brought a hand up to your mouth, astonished at the situation you were in at the moment. “So…so that means you regret everything?” You managed to ask, after wiping away the tears. 

“Love, don’t think this isn’t hard on me either, because it is.” He said, immediately pushing himself off the couch and walking over to you, placing his hands on the sides of your arms. “This is hell for me to go through.”

“If this is hell for you then what am I feeling?” You asked rhetorically. “Michael, we have a child together, you can’t just sit here and tell me you regret her.”

“Of course I don’t, love. No, no, no.” He said, shaking his head. “I just…it’s more me, I guess. I know I’m not cut out for this whole ‘love’ bullshit. I thought I was, but I’m not. I’ve been in so many relationships, Y/N, and I really did think that I loved you because I felt different around you. But…something happened…and that excitement and joy I so desperately craved from the idea of love just never materialized for me.”

“What did I do wrong, then?” You asked, crying harder.

“Nothing at all.” He said, bringing his hand up to wipe away your tears. “Us together just don’t mix, can’t you tell? We fight more than we love, Y/N. Constantly at each other’s throats, and for what? What is there to gain in being together?”

You shook your head, forced to face the fact. “There’s no love anymore.”

“Maybe for you, there’s still some in you. But not for me.” He said, shutting his eyes in shame. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Pulling yourself away from him, you ran your shaking hands through your hair. “What about Lucia?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders, running his hand along his stubble-covered jaw. “I don’t know…I just don’t know anymore.”

“That isn’t a real answer, Michael!” You exclaimed, becoming agitated. “That can’t just be your answer for everything. She’s just as much your responsibility as she is mine; you can’t just walk away from her.”

“She wouldn’t even remember me. She’s far too young.”

“Are you suggesting you walk out of her life…forever?” You asked in bewilderment. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“I told you, Y/N. I feel so confined right now and staying here wouldn’t help at all.” He told you, so quiet you could barely hear him. It was as if he wished you didn’t hear; he felt so ashamed, but he couldn’t help it–it was the truth.

But you wouldn’t accept it. Everything he’s told you in the past, how he’s made you feel, what he’s given to you…all of that was just pried from your hands, without hope of coming back, it seemed. 

You sniffled, composing yourself slightly, and looked towards Michael with distaste. “Remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it.”

“Y/N…” He sighed in defeat, becoming worked up again as a new wave of fresh tears overcame him. 

“It just sucks, to sit here and think that this guy you gave everything to would stay by your side no matter what…but then he just changes his mind.” You bitterly told him. “Leave it to the guy that claimed to be infatuated with every sense of my being at the beginning of this relationship to end up hurting me more than anyone else.”

“Please love, don’t–”

“Don’t what? Don’t put the blame on you? Don’t ‘guilt trip’ you?” You asked, approaching him with heavy feet and eyes lit with passion. “You’re pathetic, Michael.”

“I’m sorry, but–”

At that moment, you were cut off by the cries of your 3 month old baby in the other room. Both of your heads whipped around in that direction, and you glared back at Michael as you walked into her room silently. Seeing Lucia always made you happy; she was such a beautiful little girl, with these amazingly charming, big brown eyes. But in the heat of the moment, you looked at her and couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if the stress on yours and Michael’s relationship was your fault, and now you had the challenge of raising a kid thrown on top of everything. 

You carefully picked her up out of her crib, propping her on your hip and placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey Lucy baby, it’s okay.” You whispered, trying to calm her down from the fit she was having. “Everything’s going to be alright.” You tried to believe yourself, but it was impossible. It was then you knew it wasn’t because she needed a changing, nor that she was hungry; because, after a moment of silence where you and Michael weren’t fighting, she was completely relaxed against your shoulder, grasping onto you with her tiny fingers. 

Michael appeared in the doorway, wiping his eyes as he walked up to both of you. You noticed, turning your back on him and taking a seat in the rocker near the window, as if protecting her from him. “What do you want?”

He shrugged, looking down at Lucia in your arms and gesturing towards her. “For you and her to be happy.”

Your face went numb, eyes fluttering closed for a second and your hand subconsciously cradling Lucia’s head. “And what do you think will make us happy?”

“For me to leave.” He whispered. 

Shaking your head, you ignored the tear falling from your eye. “That’s not what I want, Michael.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Can’t you just fall back in love with me?” You told him, trying to be quiet and not wake Lucia. She started to stir in your arms, and you stood up to place her back in her crib.

“It’s not that easy, love.” Midway through your task, Michael came up to watch, feeling his heart skip a beat at the sleeping little girl lying fast asleep. He looked up at you, both of your tired eyes connecting with his. 

“No one said it was easy.” You told him truthfully. “Nothing in life is easy.”

“Then I want to make you happy. And her happy.” He said, running his hand up and down your back. 

“You can’t keep telling me all these vague plans, Michael. Are you going to stay here and try to work things out, or are you going to just give up this easy?” You asked wretchedly. Please fight for us, you thought. Please stay.

He nodded to himself, making up his mind and affirming that what he chose was the right thing to do. “I’ll try. I can try.”

From that, it was all you needed to break down once again, although this time he was here to console you. You could feel his little tear droplets fall onto the back of your neck, as your own transferred onto the material of his jumper. For the first time tonight, you felt the slightest bit of relief–happiness, even. You loved Michael, truly, and to have him this close to leaving you and your daughter was like you staring the end of the world right in the eye, unable to save yourself. 

When he mumbled “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve anything I’ve done to you tonight,” you felt the conviction; you knew it came from his heart. You knew he genuinely meant it.

It wouldn’t be easy, but you would all be okay. One day.

Thalassophile - Merman AU

Chapter One

You’re almost home Skylar, then you can take a bubble bath while listening to Maroon 5 and eat the rest of the bag of Oreo's you have in the pantry.

“That sounds nice,” I groan as I peddle faster.

It’s a little after eight at night and I’m riding my bike home from work- which is at the local supermarket. It’s been a long day and I’m so done with it honestly.

Fifteen minutes later after riding I arrive home at my 500 square foot studio apartment. I greet Mrs. Jones and her granddaughter (my downstairs neighbors) as they walk out of the building. There is no one else to greet inside the building so I take my bike and walk up the stairs while trying not to lose my balance with every step I took.

Once I’m inside my apartment I sigh in relief and stretch my neck until it pops satisfyingly.

Did I mention it’s been a long day? Avoiding people makes me anxious and today was just as terrible as I thought it would be.

But I wouldn’t have been avoiding anyone if an asshole named Eric had just kept his dick in his pants and stayed faithful to me.

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The Suriel - Flower Girl (fanfic)

@fireheart-cursebreaker - As requested and promised. A fan fiction of the Suriel as the Flower Girl at Feyre’s wedding. I had to decide if I wanted to make this funny or serious. And I had to choose if the Suriel would enjoy the experience or loathe Feyre for all eternity because of it. In the end, I tried to stay as true to the Suriel’s character as I possibly could, which led to some very interesting content. And there’s a little twist at the end that I hope you love. Enjoy!

@acourtofrhysandandcassian @nikkgeo12 @zoev1623 @elentiya-white @rhystrashforever 

All rights to the story and characters belong to SJM.          


          There was too much bustling about for Its taste. Too many people running to and fro with fabric and flowers, jewelry and crowns, platters laden with honeyed tarts and other disgusting, foul smelling delicacies.
           Blood. Fear. Screams of agony. The pleas of the dying for mercy. That is what the Suriel longed to feast upon. It had been in this damned city far too long. But It had made a promise. And the Suriel never broke Its promises. Whether they were promises of eternal torment, or promises of truth and friendship.
           Friend. That is what Feyre had called It the day she once again trapped It deep in the Illyrian Mountains. It had smelled her coming long before she arrived, and was curious to hear what Feyre-Cursebreaker, Defender of Velaris, High Lady of Night would wish to ask.

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