it's too late for me to be making starters stop it

✧ — Phantom of the Opera Prompts.

❛ My power over you grows stronger yet. ❜
❛ Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind. ❜
❛ Your part is silent, little toad! ❜
❛ Perhaps it is you who are the toad… ❜
❛ Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide! ❜
❛ Seal my fate tonight. ❜
❛ I hate to have to cut the fun short, but the joke’s wearing thin. ❜
❛ Let the audience in. ❜
❛ God, give me courage to show you you are not alone! ❜
❛ Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? ❜
❛ I heard as I’d never heard before. ❜
❛ What you heard was a dream and nothing more. ❜
❛ Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore… ❜
❛ That voice which calls to me and speaks my name. ❜  
❛ And do I dream again? ❜
❛ You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge. ❜
❛ I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge. ❜
❛ In your mind you’ve already sucummed to me. ❜  
❛ Now you are here with me. No second thoughts. ❜
❛ Past the point of no return. ❜
❛ What raging fire shall flood the soul? ❜
❛ What rich desires unlock its door? ❜  
❛ What sweet seductions lie before us? ❜
❛ Those who have seen your face draw back in fear. ❜
❛ Did you think that I had left you for good? ❜
❛ Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair! ❜
❛ You’ve past the point of no return. ❜
❛ You try my patience make your choice. ❜
❛ I gave you my mind blindly. ❜
❛ Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance. ❜
❛ Have you forgotten your Angel? ❜
❛ Wildly my mind beats against you… ❜
❛ Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigne. ❜
❛ Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. ❜
❛ Can I ever forget that sight? ❜
❛ Can I ever escape from that face? ❜
❛ Past the point of no return - no going back now. ❜
❛ When will the flames, at last, consume us? ❜
❛ When will the blood begin to race? ❜
❛ I remember… there was mist. ❜
❛ Who was that shape in the shadows? ❜
❛ Whose is that face in the mask? ❜
❛ Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon! ❜
❛ Is this what you wanted to see? Curse you! ❜
❛ Now you cannot ever be free! ❜
❛ Come. We must return. ❜
❛ Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you. ❜
❛ No kind word from anyone! No compassion anywhere! ❜
❛ Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. ❜
❛ Lead me, save me from my solitude. ❜
❛ Say you’ll want me with you here beside you. ❜
❛ Anywhere you go, let me go too. ❜
❛ Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me? ❜
❛ Have you no pity? ❜
❛ Your lover makes a passionate plea. ❜
❛ Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world! ❜
❛ Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before! ❜
❛ Only then can you belong to me… ❜  
❛ You alone can make my song take flight. ❜
❛ It’s over now, the music of the night. ❜
❛ Twisted every way, what answer can I give? ❜
❛ Say you love him/her, and my life is over! ❜
❛ Now, let it be war upon you both! ❜
❛ See you later, because I’m going now. ❜
❛ This haunted face holds no horror for me now. ❜
❛ It’s in your soul that the true distortion lies. ❜
❛ For the past three years, these things do happen! ❜
❛ And did you stop them from happening? No! ❜
❛ Why have you brought me here? ❜
❛ We can’t go back there. ❜
❛ I can’t escape from him/her/them… ❜
❛ Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! ❜
❛ Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death! ❜
❛ Go now, don’t let them find you. ❜
❛ I fought so hard to free you! ❜  
❛ Say you love me. ❜
❛ Your chains are still mine! You belong to me! ❜
❛ Wait! I think my dear, we have a guest. ❜
❛ I had rather hoped that you would come. ❜
❛ Free him/her! Do what you like only free him/her! ❜
❛ Does that mean nothing I love him/her! Show some compassion! ❜
❛ The world showed no compassion to me! ❜
❛ Did you think that I would harm him/her? ❜
❛ Too late for prayers and useless pity! ❜
❛ You little demon - is this what you wanted to see? ❜
❛ Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend. ❜
❛ Look around, there’s another mask behind you! ❜
❛ Please promise me that sometimes, you will think… of me! ❜
❛ Where in the world have you been hiding? ❜
❛ I only wish I knew your secret. ❜
❛ Who is your great tutor? ❜
❛ Why you spray on my chin all the time, huh? ❜
❛ The final threshold! ❜
❛ They say that this youth has set my lady’s heart aflame! ❜
❛ Go away, for the trap is set and waits for its prey! ❜
❛ There is no phantom of the opera. ❜
❛ Look, your future bride! Just think of it! ❜
❛ Please don’t, they’ll see. ❜
❛ But why is it secret? What have we to hide? ❜
❛ It’s an engagement, not a crime! ❜
Sentence Starters

A collection of lines from books, movies, tv shows, songs, and popular tumblr text posts.

“When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Let’s say I had to resort to… aggressive negotiations.” 

“I was lightly stabbed! Lightly!”

“You’ve never seen anything like this before? Goddamn. I thought you’ve seen everything.”

“Let me see if I understand: Neither of us know what this thing is, correct? What do you say we intentionally antagonize it to see what it can do?”

“Are you going mad? Neat! Maybe things will finally get interesting around here.”

“If you’re seeing that too, then I’m currently not hallucinating. What in God’s name is that thing, by the way?”

“Listen to me: If you continue doing that, you will die.”

“Your heart is filled with bitterness.”

“I hope you will find peace one day.”

“The solution to this and most other problems is fire. Set it on fire. Burn everything to the ground.”

“I am so tired that I could sleep for centuries and still feel exhausted when I wake.”

“Do you ever look in the mirror and start to feel unreal? Because that’s been happening to me lately. Nothing feels real.”

“I feel like I’m going to fade away someday.”

“Having a body is so strange.”

“I want to run away. I don’t know how to fix this, so I want to run and run until I can’t anymore.”

“I’m a coward. I’m a damned coward.”

“I can’t do this on my own. Please help me. Please. I promise I will repay you.”

“Not to be melodramatic but my heart aches and my soul is dying.”

“Today I explored the void. The void, as you might want to know, is not as void as some think. Anyway, enough about me. What have you done recently?”

“My friends, my comrades, my fellow saints and sinners…  Today I must inform you of a terrible thing.”

“I suggest we start a revolution.”

“There is something horrifyingly wrong with you.”

“He who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.”

“Even false saints have power.”

“I found a door. A door to another world.”

“Nothing will stand against us.”

“Tell me what you’ve done.”

“They are beyond redemption, as you will be if you do this.”

“Do monsters make war, or does war make monsters?”

“Such acts rip out the soul and make space for beasts to grow inside.”

“You tell me that battling with monsters has made me a monster? Doing business with devils, what has that made you?”

“I have repented, I have been punished enough, take me home…”

“My soul is clean. I’ve never killed anyone. But you, oh you. Look at your hands.”

“Wishes are false. Hope is true. Hope makes its own magic.”

“Take all my pain away.”

“Start the Apocalypse with me.”

“Together, we are unstoppable. Nothing and no one will stand in our way.”

“You are a shining light in the darkness.”

“Oh yes, you go do that. Great idea, I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine!”

“I will follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond.”

“Must you point that thing at me? Please put it down.”

“Think about it. Just stop for a moment.”

“My heart hurts so much I want to tear it out.”

“That’s not what I said.”

#4 My Neighbor’s A Jerk

Summary: (Office AU) There’s this mutual feeling between you and your jerk of a neighbor, called hate. With every ounce of passion filled in your veins you both commence that feeling from day one of meeting each other. But what happens once, one of you are at the receiving end of the other’s help? Maybe you will learn how to co-operate?

Word Count: 3137

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Genre: RomCom

Warning: none

Author’s Note: things have started to happen, you’ll realize when you get to the end of this part, enjoy! :)

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“My Neighbor’s A Jerk” Masterlist

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(gif is not mine*)

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Writing Advice: At the Heart of Your Plot Lies a Question

I’ve been thinking a lot about story structure lately. It’s the thing I struggle with the most, as an author, and judging from a lot of stories I’ve read (and blurbs I’ve helped to write), it’s a big issue for others, too. A lot of times, people don’t realize that there are fundamental structural issues with their stories until they get to the marketing phase, when they go to write a blurb or query letter and realize they cannot condense their story. 

I have some bad news for you: If you can’t elevator pitch your book, there’s a good chance that the problem is the book’s plot, not your innate blurbing skills. 

I know. That’s a hard thing to swallow. And maybe I’m wrong - maybe you just need to work on your blurbing a little bit and it’ll all be just fine. 

But maybe I’m not wrong. In which case, just humor me for a second. Your story will thank you for it. 

Thing #1: Your world-building is not your story. 

It doesn’t matter how much careful thought and planning you’ve put into figuring out the logistics of your world’s science, economy, government, etc. The intricate backstories and family histories might be totally important, but they’re probably not the plot. Until you have characters who want things and obstacles in their path, you don’t have a story. 

Thing #2: Your character arc is not your plot 

Characters should change. Your character should be transformed by the events of the story. This is, ultimately, where the story lies. It’s not, however, the plot. Why, you ask? Because plots are actually pretty generic. A plot is a framework, a set of expectations and structural beats that hold up the story. The story is the character’s development between Point A and Point B. 

Thing #3: Plots are tied to genre 

In the sense that I’m using plot here - expectations and structural beats - I would argue that “plot” is the essential defining characteristic of genre. Which is to say, the thing that unites books within a genre is that they all have essentially the same plot. But how can that be, you ask? Because…

Thing #4: “Plot” = The Story Your Reader Asks (and you have to answer)

What is it that keeps a reader turning the page? What compels a reader to finish a story? Compelling characters, cool settings, sure, ok maybe. But I would argue that at its heart, the thing that makes any reader keep reading (as opposed to, say, watching TV or playing soccer or giving their cat a bath) is curiosity. 

Humans are naturally curious. We love gossip. We find it irresistible. There’s something in our genetic makeup that craves answers to questions, to gathering insider knowledge. 

Which means that if you ask a question, and it seems like a fairly interesting question, the person hearing it won’t be satisfied until they know the answer. 

So based on that assumption, I would argue that readers keep reading stories in order to find the answer to a question. I would also argue that, for the most part, the nature of that question is the same or pretty similar for all stories of a particular genre. 

Some story questions: 

  • Who did it? How did they do it? Why did they do it? (mystery) 
  • Will they succeed in time/before bad thing happens? (fantasy)
  • Who will come out on top? (epic fantasy) 
  • How could these two unlikely people possibly fall in love? (romance)
  • What actually happened? (thriller) 
  • How will they get out of this? (adventure) 
  • Are they going to survive? (horror)

Etc. etc. 

Different stories will have different flavors of these questions, but at its core, every story should have a central question that drives the narrative onward - everything else eventually feeds in to answering that question. 

You’ll note, too, that sometimes the question asked by the narrative itself is not really the question asked by the reader. For example: Ostensibly, the mystery in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is “What happened to Harriet?” But I think the real question is “How is the PI connected to the reporter? What’s actually going on here?” (which, you will note from our handy-dandy chart, makes this book a thriller and not a mystery). 

“What actually happened the night of the murders?” <- Dark Places by Gillian Flynn. Definitely another thriller. (See also: “What actually happened to Amy?” at the heart of Gone Girl.) 

“How is Katniss going to survive the Hunger Games?” (adventure! For all that it bills itself as a dystopia, Hunger Games is at its heart a survival story that calls back to Jack London). 

There are more questions than the ones I detailed above, but those are some starters to whet the appetite.. 

The important thing to remember is that if your story doesn’t have a central driving question, it doesn’t actually have a plot. It may have a character arc! Lots of things might happen! It may have a story. But it will have no plot. And your readers might not know that’s what’s wrong with it, but they’ll notice it. They’ll pick up on it. 

And when they do, what they’ll tell you is: The book is boring. 

So the next time you’re struggling to write the elevator pitch for your story, or the story just isn’t coming together for you, stop and ask: What is the main question? What is the question that’s going to keep the reader turning the page? 

Love on the Brain, LMM/Reader

Prompt: You and Lin toe the line between best friends and soulmates.

Words: 2,533

Author’s Note: Good lord it’s been awhile, right? Took heavy inspiration from this lovely video of Lin kissing in 200 Cartas which is basically the reason I am alive today (and my lovely wife @alexanderhamllton​ gif’d here).

Warnings: Nothing? If there’s anything please tell me.

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You had had friends all your life. A giggly group of girls to cling to all through elementary school. A little clique in the back corner of high school classrooms. Intellectuals you could have stimulating conversations with over top ramen in your college dorm.

You moved from friend group to friend group seamlessly, never getting past surface level knowledge of each of them. You rarely found one person you could spend an unending amount of time with. And you thought this would last your entire life - you had come to the conclusion that best friends or soulmates just weren’t for you.

Then in waltzed Lin, frantic and messy and completely out of your comfort zone that you couldn’t help but feel that unfamiliar pull. He was funny and charming and the kind of artsy cute that would have made a younger you scoff.

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|| Yours To Love || [[smut]]

{summary: will he still love you if he knows about the new life growing inside of you?}

this is a day late and i’m sorry ;w; work was so crazy yesterday that i really couldn’t write for this au as much as i wanted to.

this short series is almost done with, with the next update being the EPILOGUE. I may do the first and second parts of this story in bucky’s POV, but we’ll just have to wait and see, because i’m not TOO confident when it comes to taking on a male’s POV.

ps i am so sorry for sinning on easter.

[ {I’m Yours} series tagging list ]: @iamwarrenspeace , @topkay , @imagine-thingsandstuff , @acunningstargazer , @sea-kale , @marvel-fanfiction , @sebatianstanisbae , @boom-boombang

warnings: brief usage of bondage (namely handcuffs), oral (female receiving), thigh riding/fucking (idk what it’s called but if you readers are brave enough to read this poorly written smut, then you’ll know what i’m talking about)

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine**

——

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a lot of the time i find myself in a rp whit a shit load of potential, but dying for no reason. everyone has a lot of muse, everyone is saying how they “hate how this is dying like how can this be happening”, everyone obviously logged on, yet there are only a couple people who dare to actually attempt to keep it alive. i wish i can say this has only happened once but lately i find myself in this position a lot, and by all the complaining in the rpt tags i know i am not alone on this. so, i decided to make a little rp helpers guide or whatever cause some people obviously need this. 

so here is:

8 TIPS ON HOW TO ATTEMPT TO KEEP A RP ALIVE

  1. don’t complain about the rp dying

i always see this and it always gets on my nerves. i’m not talking about those who post a starter and in the tags say “where is everyone at?” cause even though there is some complaining  involved in that, they are still doing more to try to keep it alive, actually posting a starter. i’m talking those who are obviously on the dash cause you see them post an ooc saying “this is dying i’m so sad :( :( :( “. that is not being active, thats just complaining, and being annoying (well a least for me. and if you really were so sad you would actually do something about it, maybe reply to a starter, then make one of your own, or something. DON’T BE THE COMPLAINER, THEY ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM.

       2. don’t blame the admins

although it is an admins job to run a rp, rarely is it ever actually an admins fault that a rp dies. keep in mind that along with running it, they also have parts in the rp, and like all of us do, they have lives outside the internet. if the main isn’t active for a day or two, so what? that doesn’t mean that the rp is dead, it means that the admins may have something else in their lives going on, or maybe even, that are participating in the rp, and doing their part to keep it alive? 

      3. don’t only reblog muse shit

in the past year or so, muse blogs have really made a difference in the rpc. now, we have a place to find things that can relate to our character, or a plot that they currently have with another character, and reblog them, giving people more of an in-depth sense of our chracters, from more then just statistics or a bio. i would be lying is i didn’t admit my love for this, cause it truly has made a difference. but, i cannot tell you how many times i have seen a rp slowly dying and there is that one person or in some cases, multiple people, who you know are on the dash, cause they are reblogging stuff, but instead of reblogging starters and replies, they are reblogging musings, or pictures. has this ever happened to you? you post a starter, and you worked hard on it, thinking of starters that are original is pretty hard, but you finally do it. how ever long after you see that little one thing on the tumblr refresh thing, telling you that there is something new on the dash. excited, you go, click on that refresh button, and when your dash reloads, its a quote, a picture, a gif set, something along those lines. now knowing someone is on the dash, you wait for that response, but it never comes. instead, your starter gets buried. #stopburyingstarterswithmusingshit2016. i’m not saying stop reblogging muse shit, please, if i did, that would make me a hypocrite. but mayb,e while your on the dash, and you happen to see a reply, or you happen to see a starter, or you see how no ones made a new starter in a day or two, why not make make posting actual rp stuff your priority?

     4. do be active 

this one is kind of a given, but i fee. as though lately, some people need a reminder. in order to keep a rp alive, you must simply be active! i know, i know, its hard to if no one else is on the dash, but, if your not gonna be the one to break the dead rp ice with a starter, then who is? what i have found out over my time in the rpc  is that activity is almost like a chain reaction. most of us are on at the same time, or at least once a day, yet for some reason everyone seems scared to post a starter, or even a reply, no one wants to be first. its like at a buffet or something, no one wants to be first in line, yet everyone wants to eat. so what can you do? be the first in line! start the activity up again! when it seems as though no ones on the dash, who cares? just post a starter, and reply to your other replies, and i’m sure the rest of the rp will start to be active again.

    5. if you don’t have muse, either try to get some or just leave the rp

i know some of us get very attached to some of our characters, and feel as though we can play them forever, yet, there always those times where are use just isn’t as high as it was before. it happens to the best of us. but, that doesn’t really give you an excuse to just abandon the rp. in my eyes, there are two ways to go about solving this problem. 1) you take a day or two, make an ooc saying that you just need a day or two but you promise to come back soon, let the admins know, and take that day or two, and try to develop your muse again. whether is that just taking that time to be off the dash, in the real world, looking through muse blogs, making photoshop shit for them, plotting with more people, i don’t know! but if you want to stay in the rp, with muse, i recommend doing this.  2) if you have attempted this last step and it just didn’t work, or you really just want out of the rp, just leave then. simple! i’m sure all the admins would understand, plus, i’m sure there is someone out there who will be more then happy to fill your role in the rp with whatever muse they have. 

    6. don’t ignore starters

this may seem like common sense, but i have seen this happen way too many times, where someone pot a starter, and then the complainer comes on, or the muse reblog person, orrr those people who mean well, do replies, but just for some reason don’t reply to start starter, instead make one of their own. part of keeping an rp active is being inclusive! sure, that person may not be your favorite, or you just don’t get their chara, or your muses don’t get along well, so what? if you want to keep the rp alive, your going to have to include everyone, thats just how it goes.

    7. promote!

this one may seem like it should only be reserved  for the admins, but it is not! promoting the rp to your friends or the rpc, either by talking about it, posting a link on your aim updates, posting a link to it on your rph/rpc, reblogging a main promote post on your rpt/rph, the list is endless. this way, your friends can join, people you met on aim yet don’t talk to anymore for whatever reason can jojn, those who are too lazy to go through the tags and just look at the rpt or rph tag for some reason can join, anyone can really! 

    8. try to get online

i know we all have outside lives from the rpc, but joining a rp, you are making a commitment to stay active. if something happens and you need some time off, thats when you ask the admins for a hiatus, and i’m sure they will understand and let you have some time off. but, if you find yourself bored, the dash slow, why not get involved, be active!

i know i’m going to get a message or two once i post this saying “ugh this is so annoying, this is all common sense blah blah blah,” but, lately from my own experience and from what i have seen people complaining about on the tags, i feel as though people need this reminder. also if majority of the rpc follows these tips, i’m sure rps would last a solid amount of time, and people can stop complaining. also, if anyone has any more tips, feel free to reblog and add them, or message me them!

Title: The Cat in the Coat

Anonymous Request: “2, I know it’s 3 in the morning but I can’t find my cat. 21, you knocked on my door at 1 AM, to cuddle? 39, I’m not going to keep having this conversation. 47, go on, I dare you. with Pan please!”

Plus

Anonymous Request: “Hey!! I have request where Peter’s sad for some random reason and he doesn’t want to do anything, always stays in his tent.”

Warnings: just a couple curse words

This is absolutely way too fluffy and cuddly and I’m so sorry for your feels because I literally cried when I wrote this, simply because it is goals.

_________________

An unusual darkness had drifted over the camp. Now, before you question too much, it most definitely was not the kind of darkness you get when you get when you put a blanket over your head. It was the kind of darkness that you feel, the kind that soaks up into your brain and makes you feel, well, exhausted.

Neverland had been like this for what you would call a week, or perhaps less or more, on mainland time. All you knew was that nothing had happened to cause it, and the feeling felt as though it had popped up overnight.

And, in this sudden darkness, you had unfortunately found a way to lose something, because although it was a dark emotion over the camp, it had also brought about a literal darkness.

Around the camp, deep, navy blue clouds made their way inwards, and the sun had failed to make an appearance. The island was cold and dreary and dark in almost every definition, and that made it impossibly easy to lose things.

This darkness, you knew, matched the mood of the leader of the island, who hadn’t left his beloved hut since the dreary time started. The only time you ever caught even the slightest glance of him was when he turned on the light of his room during the night. Then, you could watch the shadow of his figure pacing back and forth in front of the window, contrasting with the dull yellowish-orange light, as if he had the hardest decision ever to make.    

The trees that surrounded the camp, the ones you once found brilliant green and filled with life, had now turned into nothing more than eerily twisted shadows grazing the ground. The bright moonlight practically begged to show through, and you knew that in any other situation you would have slept through the haunting howls the wind made as it blew through them. But not tonight, so far anyway, because you were on a mission, or perhaps more if you look at it in the right way.

“Here kitty, kitty…”

That’s right, that so dearly missed lost thing? A cat. A dumb old cat that you had somehow fallen deeply in love with, to the point that you were standing where you were- the borders of an enchanted forest that looked as though it would swallow you alive if you took as much as one step out of line. For some reason, the cat had grown on you, and it made you worried sick to know that it, rather he, could be lost or eaten as you called for him.

A bubble formed in the pit of your gut as you looked towards the sky again, watching as the moon was swallowed up once again by the dreary clouds. A sudden realization hit you, at the same time a cold droplet of water rushed down the side of your face.

“Great, just great! What else has this damned island got to throw at me, huh?” You murmured desperately beneath your breath, afraid that if any of the boys heard you they would think you were crazy, which come to think of it maybe you were.

A sigh escaped your mouth, and you decided that one last attempt would be thrown. In a very panicky tone, you shakily called out one last time.

“C'mon…here kitty, kitty, kitty!”

After hearing no crunching of leaves or desperate meows of help, you decided to call the outside searching quits. By that time, however, freezing cold rain had started pouring heavily from those dumb heavy clouds, and you swore you’d never had a worse night in your life.

You accepted defeat for the night, and with slumped shoulders decided it was best to head back before you caught a cold. Your mind reeled at the thought of not having a warm fluffball packed tightly against your thigh as you slept, and your stomach lurched. A much warmer droplet of liquid made a trail down your face, and you realized that you had starter crying.

All this over a cat? Well, yes, because that cat, no matter how dumb it may sound, brought a much bigger aspect of love to your heart than any of the boys had ever even attempted to create.

You sniffled, hair drenched in water and shivering visibly. You wrapped your arms around yourself to conceal at least a bit of body temperature.

Then, a simple, and probably bad, idea made itself present within your mind.

Pan might know where your baby is!

Although unlikely, you used the hope of possibly finding the cat curled up at his feet as a comfort. And, before you could actually rationalize this decision, your feet had started to make a beeline towards Pan’s hut.

After blindly maneuvering your body through the labyrinth of objects between you and the hut, your hands hit a hard wooden surface.

You stood, completely still, for a moment on the other side of his door. Your hands rested lightly on the wood, and you looked down for a moment in thought.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…maybe I should just go back and hope the cat’s back in the morning…” you thought, hesitantly biting your lip in thought.  

However, against all logical thinking, your arms pushed the door open. You made no move for quite a few moments to walk into the hut. Then, as if your legs had a mind of their own, they too moved you ever closer to where the king of the island himself slept.

You squeezed your eyes shut, fiddling with the sopping wet hem of your shirt. A burst of adrenaline shot through you as you fully realized where you were, and you heart beat picked up. After taking a deep breath, you felt your fingers began to quiver.

This was it.

“Pan…” you finally whispered out, only to be met with another round of quiet snores.

An awkward feeling in the pit of your stomach formed, and you almost turned back around and walked back out… if you’d not had a sudden memory of you and the cat together pop into your head.

Once again, you called, slightly louder, into the darkness, “Pan…”

After no response, you decided that you’d try one more time, and if it didn’t work you’d leave.

You cleared your throat, speaking in a clear tone, “Peter Pan?”

You cringed as his heavy breathing halted, and fear set into your chest.

All too suddenly for such a late time of night, he sprung up into a sitting position, his eyes snapping open and flickering around the room until they landed on your dark figure.

To say the least, you looked absolutely pitiful. Your hair and clothing was completely soaked through, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. Your face was red and your eyes were bloodshot, puffy from crying. Your lips formed a pounted frown of dismay, though you tried to cover it with a fake, pitiful smile.

“(Y/N)?” Pan questioned, a worried look on his face.

You suddenly bad, as if you’d woken a sleeping puppy, for he looked tired too; eyes strung with bags from being deprived of sleep, hair a mess, clothing wrinkled and twisted from sleep. He looked just as pitiful as you, only not as wet.

“Uh, yeah, you know what- um, never mind-” you squeaked, voice cracking mid sentence as you tried to conceal all evidence of your distress.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in curiosity, voice wavering higher in question.

You heard the shuffle of clothing, and then light flooded the walls of hut, leaving lingering shadows in its presence. A disheveled looking Pan stood from the bed, wobbling slightly from standing up so fast without having done so previously.

You looked down as he came closer, thoroughly embarrassed by the state you were in. You felt like you looked like a wet rat, and knew that you probably looked just as so.

“N-Nothing, I’m just gonna-”

“(Y/N)…” he warned, cutting you off mid sentence.

You huffed, trying to stop you voice from wavering as you spoke, “I know it’s, like, 3 in the morning…but…

You paused and hesitated for a minute, afraid that he would laugh at you for your reasoning. You could feel your throat tightening in on itself, and you didn’t know if you could utter the last part of the sentence even if you wanted to.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

…I can’t find my cat…

After taking a moment to let what you’d said sink in, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face in relief. You felt ashamed for waking him up for something so stupid.

It’s just a cat, you idiot…

With tears burning your eyes, you turned, waving you hand in dismissal, “See, I told you it was stupid-”

“Hey, wait, wait!” He reassured, “Just hold on, let me get you some dry clothes…”

You watched, completely shocked, as he walked over to his dresser and started getting to work on finding clothes that would fit. His movements were slow, almost delayed, as he rummaged through the drawers, because of the obvious fatigue that plagued his body.

You let your eyes wonder back down to the floor, hands folded together in from of you. Now, usually you weren’t this bashful, but for some reason you felt as if the situation called for it.

“Pan, really, it’s okay, I’ll just get the clothes wet when I back walk to my hut…” You trailed off quietly, but this time made no move towards the door.

“Really, it’s fine. Here,” he said, shoving the soft material into your hands before you could try to object again.

He patted your shoulder, running his thumb lightly across it comfortingly, and you looked up to meet his eyes, “There’s a little room over there that you can change in.”

You followed the direction of his pointing finger, giving him a weak smile as you turned.

After ducking your head once more, you walked off. You found yourself faced with a small room, no bigger than a small closet. After looking up and around, you decided to finally close the door.

You let out a deep breath, dragging a hand down your exhausted face. Your face and hair were still wet, but the water did an awful job at concealing the actual tears. You wiped your eyes with your soaked sleeve, and then began the task of changing into dry clothes.

It felt beyond luxury to be finally wearing clothes that didn’t freeze you to the bone. Goosebumps were still present, but not as prominent as before. The large shirt made you feel, well, not as bad, though your head just couldn’t stop wondering back to your beloved cat.

You slowly pushed the door open once more, wet clothes crumbled up together in your hand. A large portion of your legs were presented to the open air, which made it much easier to be cold; the wooden floor you stood on didn’t help to conceal warmth either.

You coughed towards the boy, who was preoccupied in moving his pillows and blankets back onto the bed. He glanced up after a moment, and a small smile took over his face as he saw your state.

You had crossed your legs, still standing I remind you, to warm them. Your arms were crossed over your chest, trying your best not to touch the cold, wet clothes to the rest of you. Your face had cleared up quite a bit, but dark circled made themselves present under your once bright eyes.

“Ah, there we are, feeling any better?” He asked, reaching out to take the clothes from you.

You shrugged, watching as he practically threw the clothes to the floor near the door. He stretched up as he turned towards you, his arms reaching up towards the ceiling.

You watched in awe as his muscles flexed, and felt like you’d start drool if he didn’t stop. Your eyes were fixated on him, unable to tear themselves away. Your jaw was slacked slightly, and your lips parted.

As soon as you met his eyes, you knew he’d seen you watching him. He smirked cockily, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

Your eyes widened, snapping down to the floor as a blush tinted your cheeks. You slapped your hands over your eyes, groaning quietly in dismay.

The sound of bedsprings being bounced upon made you look back up, still extremely embarrassed and red in the face. Your eyes were met with something you certainly never expected to see.

A sleepy looking Pan, sitting promptly on his bed, getting ready to tuck himself under the covers. Your stomach dropped as you realised that he was probably tired of you, and you turned towards the door to leave. Your head was lowered, and you awkwardly rubbed your arm as you trekked towards it, being as quiet as you could so that you didn’t disturb him trying to get to sleep.

“Where are you going?”

You glanced up, meeting eye to eye  with a very confused looking boy. He was tucked under the fluffy mound of pillows and blankets, almost as if he was trying to lure you in. You watched as he raised an eyebrow, patting the soft matress beside him.

You titled your head, not sure if you were taking what he was suggesting in the right way. You looked around the room, just to make sure that he wasn’t hinting things at another person…which was highly unlikely. After finding nobody, you looked back at him and furrowed your brows.

He rolled his eyes, lifting up the blanket as an invitation for you. Although the offer was all too tempting, you knew that you shouldn’t…right?

“Oh, Pan, I don’t want to intrude, I was just-”

He huffed, giving you a disbelieving stare. He could see right through your act.

“Just c'mere, (Y/N).”

You rubbed your arms to rid youself of unwanted nerves, and then took a timid step forward. Soon enough, you found yourself at the foot of his bed, still scared that you had somehow misunderstood his actions, or that it would only be awkward if you climbed right in next to him.

You pushed your thoughts aside, deciding that you were too tired and cold to matter anyway. With a nervous lip bite, you lifted one leg onto the bed. Then, the other leg.

Finally, you found yourself shyly crawling towards the inviting warmth beneath the blankets. You felt as though your face was on fire, your fingers trembling from pure nervousness.

You sat awkwardly on your knees as you reached where the blanket opened up. Do you just…scooch on in? What if that makes it awkward and he asks you to leave?

Before you could second guess yourself, he rolled his eyes once again, and one of his arms swung out from under the blankets. He hooked an arm around your waist, reeling you closer to him like a fish on a line. He lifted the blakets, pulling you beneath them, and then tucked them caringly around you.

One arm swung around your ridged body lazily, while you felt the other arm come to rest above your head.

You stuttered aimlessly in surprise, not even caring how stupid you probably sounded. Your eyes stayed wide, and you felt your body become more tense by the second.

“Jesus, calm down, huh?” He chuckled, his breath blowing just past your cheek as he spoke.

You blinked rapidly in the darkness. How on earth had you found yourself stuck in such an…unusual position, with the ruler of Neverland himself? To be completely honest, you thought the boy didn’t really like you that much, but now you had started to think otherwise.

So…you knocked on my door at three in the morning to cuddle, did you?

Your face started to heat up as embarrassment rose in your chest. As a stutter once again left your mouth, which was supposed to be an understandable sentence, you found yourself at blank for anything to say.  Your mouth popped open and closed, as if it would help you form words.

“N-No, well, I mean- it’s not like that!” You finally rushed out, grasping at the blanket with clammy hands.

“Oh…I think it’s exactly like that…” he muttered huskily into your, probably red, ear.

The sound gave you chills.

You squeaked, shrinking slightly further into the blankets and away from his face. However, before you got too far, the arm around your waist caught you, pulling you right back up.

Uneasiness spread through your tummy, and you didn’t know if it was fear or butterflies; you decided it was probably a mix of both.

You felt the fingers of his hand lift your shirt, only enough so that they could run along the place you were ticklish the most, and the same place you felt the butterflies; your stomach. The direct contact made your mind feel fuzzy.

As his fingers danced across the soft skin, you squirmed and tried not to burst into a fit of giggles, but at the same time it made you feel calm. He noticed, you assumed, as you felt him smile against you.

Then, as you layed there with him, you realised that the storm outside had slowed down, just a bit, and the rain wasn’t beating harshly against the window anymore. Instead, the only sound from outside you could hear was the calming sound of tiny droplets landing unevenly on the roof of the hut.

“So, did you come here so early in the morning to cuddle, or did it just happen to be a coincidence?” He teased, his fingers halting their movements, to which you almost let out a whine.

I am not going to keep having this conversation!” You huffed, hiding your face in the extremely soft comforter.

“You did, didn’t you?” He said, again teasingly.

You buried your head deeper into the bkankets, perhaps to cover up the bright scarlet blush, or perhaps because your nose felt frozen in the open air.

He laughed quietly, a laugh that sounded much more like snicker than an actual laugh, as he watched you. His chest bobbed up and down against your back as he did so, which made you giggle slightly.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart! Most girls would love to come cuddle with me in the middle of the night…if you know what I mean…”

“Pan!” You shrieked, popping your head back out from beneath the warmth of the comforter.

He laughed at your surprised reaction, watching your eyes widen as you turned to face him.

As you met his own eyes, you found that he had started to wiggle his eyebrows at you, smirking cheekily as he did so. You did everything you could to not laugh at him, but, in the long run, found that you had no chance with the look he was giving you.

“I swear, I’m going to slap you, you idiot.” You said through bursts of laughs.

With that being said, his arms fell back around your waist. The smile fell slightly from his face, and he yanked you towards him so that your chests touched. His arms locked around you like a seatbelt, allowing you no movement, and his breath fell over your face.  

Go on, I dare you.” He challenged, and suddenly the mischievous smile fell back onto his face.

It was then that you realised that he was talking about your threat; that you were going to slap him. Your face flashed with relief, the color slowly moving back into your face.

You scrunched up your nose and pulled one of your arms from beneath his, shoving his face away with palm of your hand as the two of you laughed. He grabbed your wrist and tucked it in between the two of you, keeping it away from his face. You knew he found no offense to it, after all it was just a joking action.

The sound of laughter slowly dispersed, no longer bouncing off the walls. The room was comfortably quiet, all noise except the rain against the roof being silenced, leaving the two of you in your own little bubble.

You began to realize just how close you actually were to Pan. So close that you could feel lingering breaths rolling down your face and neck, tickling you their whole way down. You felt the warmth of him pressed against you, and the quiet droning on of his steady heartbeat beating against your chest. His eyes, those bottle-green beauties, you watched lingering down the length of your face. His fingers ran up and down, from your shoulders to the edge of your hips, making tiny goosebumps arise, the hair on your arms and side standing on end.

Then, a noise quite unlike any other  broke through the boundary of silence. The tiny sound you had very much missed since you’d found it lost, the sound that practically radiated innocence and fragility.

Your head popped up from the pillows, and you wriggled slightly out of the tight and protective grip of Pan. He gave you a confused look, to which you returned by pointing a finger to the corner where one of his warm coats layed.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, growing colder by the minute as you exited the warmth of the blanket.

You stumbled, not too gracefully, towards the pile of Pan’s clothing, feeling as though you were on a mission; in reality, you kind of were.

Another upset mewl came from the strewn about coat. This sound made you rush towards it faster, and when you arrived to it, you found an odd looking lump moving about underneath it.

You timidly reached for the lump, just in case it wasn’t what you hoped. The second your hand touched the moving being beneath the coat, it let out another panicked noise. This time you heard it loud and clear; it was a meow, and better yet a meow for help.

You quickly and gently removed the clothing from the scene, and what you saw made your heart jump in happiness.

“Oh!” You cried, scooping up the tiny cat, and cuddling him to your chest.

You showered the cat in kisses and affection, leaving not one inch of him untouched. He meowed, butting his head against your chin, and pawing gently at your hands for you to pet him.

“Pan, look! I found him!” You yelped, a wide smile spreading across your face.

“Is that the thing I kept hearing when I was trying to think?” He murmured, sitting up with messy hair and facing you.

You nodded as you made your way back to the bed, “Must have been, and you didn’t tell me when I came in looking for a lost animal?”

He smiled and shrugged, flopping back down upon the soft mattress. His arms tried to wrap around you to pull you down again, but the cat in your arms hissed and swatted it away.  

“That’s what you get for being a dick and not telling me that it could’ve been him in here,” You pouted, glaring jokingly at Pan.

You laughed quietly at the cat as it started to wiggle from your arms, while Pan glared daggers at the small creature. You placed him down on the bed, watching as he gracefully slithered beneath the blanks and to where  Pan’s feet were.

“And you like that thing?” He asked, this time actually pulling you down to him.

He squeezed you possessively to him, and you could practically hear the pout in his voice. You shrugged in response, nuzzling yourself closer to Pan as you spoke.

“Yeah, he’s feisty and independent. I think you’re just jealous…” you chuckled, watching as he tucked the both of you into the soft blankets.

It was evident by the halted rain and the clear, bright moon shining through the window that Pan’s mood had increased immensely. You couldn’t help but be proud of the fact that you had been the one to accomplish this.

That night, you came to realize two things: One: Pan’s emotions are strongly connected to the weather; he’s sad or angry, the island looks and becomes sad or angry with him. And Two:

…You don’t always have to be a lonely cat lady…

taekook rec: march 2017

if this is what you want, i’ll get closer to you by bambambams (phanjessmagoria)

“You’re almost exactly how you seemed, hyung.”

Taehyung laughed, slinging an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders and tugging him close. Perhaps it was too intimate a gesture for the two of them, since they weren’t actually friends, but they’d known each other for the months they’d been taking dance classes together, so Jungkook didn’t shrug it off. “Then, should we get to know each other a bit better, Jungkook-ah?”

feel it coming by aeterisks

When Taehyung phoned the plumber he wasn’t expecting to have the embodiment of hot sent to his home, but he’s not about to complain.

(Or, Jeongguk is a plumber and Taehyung gets much more than his shower fixed.)

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Title: Sith Lords Don’t Sunbathe
Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader
Genre: So floof, SO FLOOF, but also a lil spicy bc i was feelin it
Warnings: Language
A/N: Just some cute but also zesty fluff for the soul. It was really nice out today and I freakin LOVE spring (it’s basically spring here now ok) so this happened lol. Happy Valentines Day! :-)

Originally posted by theworldisworthagif

Originally posted by coolfayebunny

The sun above you warmed your bare legs, giving the skin there a subtle glow. You flexed your toes and stretched, lifting your arms up above your head and letting them fall backward into the grass. It had started out soft but now you were beginning to feel the underside of your legs sweat, and you bet that if you looked, there would have been thousands of tiny, grass-shaped imprints against your skin. A breeze floated by, carrying the scent of the flowering tree above you on the wind and filling your nose. Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, letting the air roll over your skin. While it wasn’t exactly warm, it wasn’t cold, either; it felt like the weather couldn’t make up its mind on if it was still winter or late spring. It was the perfect temperature.

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Coffin Nail (Animorphs ficlet)

Jake lasts all of ten minutes before he cannot take it anymore, ducking the gazes of a dozen or more B-list celebrities and gratefully plunging into the cold open air of Marco’s back porch.  He’s only at this stupid party in the first place because Marco dropped a dozen hints that Cassie might be here and Jake is pathetic like that, but he’s not sure he can even last long enough to see if she’ll arrive.

He leans against the railing, squinting out at the city.  Maybe he’ll make it.  He’s survived worse.

Marco’s back door swings open again, and a familiar voice says, “Oh, I didn’t realize anyone else was out—”

Jake turns around fully and Jordan stops talking.  

She’s got an open pack of Marlboros in her left hand, a lit cigarette clenched between the first two fingers of her right, and a half-startled look on her face.  

There’s something dully shocking about the sight of the cigarettes, mostly because in Jake’s mind Jordan is still that round-eyed thirteen-year-old he hasn’t spoken to in years.  

“Anyone ever tell you those things’ll kill you?” Jake asks.  It’s a terrible conversation starter: awkward, cliche.  He uses it anyway for lack of anything better, because the fact is that they haven’t seen each other since the funeral.  

Jordan exhales her mouthful of smoke in a Cheshire grin.  “You say that like I want to live forever.”

Just for a second she looks so much like Rachel that Jake feels a shiver go up his spine.  He doesn’t say that, of course, because he of all people definitely knows better.  Even the echo of the reminder of his great-aunt’s casual “Oh, but you look just like—!” last April is enough to twist his gut with nausea all over again.  

He knows what he looks like—knows who he looks like—thank you very much, he owns a fucking mirror.  He knows.  It’s only gotten worse, given how much he sprouted up in the past few years.  (No one calls him “midget” anymore.)  He doesn’t know for sure if he’s taller now than Tom ever was, since he didn’t measure, but it’s probably a near thing.  

Three months from now he’ll have lived longer than his brother ever did.  That much he does know for sure.

“So.”  Jake clears his throat.  “Nice party, huh?”

Jordan looks at him over her cigarette, expression pitying.  “You know,” she says around it, “at least I brought an excuse to come lurk out here like a weird, sad loner.  You don’t even have that much.”

Jake blinks.  “I, uh… ‘Excuse’?”

She takes the cigarette out of her mouth long enough to wave it around, trailing a thin stream of smoke into the air.  

“Does smoking make you not a sad loner?” Jake asks.

“Nah, it just makes you a cool sad loner with too much mystique to have any friends,” Jordan explains patiently.  “You want one?”

“A friend?” Jake says.  He realizes a few seconds too late how pathetic that sounded, but it’s too late now.  

“An excuse.”  Jordan holds the pack out to him.  

“Uh, okay.”  She’s got a point, after all: it’s not like Jake wants to live forever.  

She digs into three or four pockets of her leather coat before she finally comes out with a lighter, cupping her free hand around the flame to shelter it as Jake leans forward to suck life from its tip.  He inhales too deeply, and he knows it immediately, coughing and choking on what feels like an entire ember lodged in his throat.  

Watching him, Jordan laughs.  “You know, for a guy that FOX news likes to call a terrorist, you’re awfully square.”  

Jake ignores the “terrorist” part—it’s an old wound, just another knife bouncing off existing scar tissue, so numb not even the pain makes it through.  Instead he wheezes out, “I never did much experimenting in high school.”  

Jordan’s face shutters, and Jake wonders if she’s thinking the same thing that just crossed his mind: it’s supposed to be your older sibling who gives you your first cigarette, your first beer, your first porn mag.  

“It’s not like I care what FOX news says about me,” Jake says to cover for the moment.  

“Yeah, yeah, ‘famously reclusive’ and all that, right?”

Jake shrugs.  “Isn’t ‘famously reclusive’ an oxymoron?”

“Well, you don’t whore yourself out like Marco does, that’s for sure.”  The harsh language seems just as out-of-place in her mouth as the cigarette first did.  She’s sixteen, Jake reminds himself, not twelve.  “You know…”  Jordan laughs, looking down.  “I used to have the biggest crush on him.  Marco, that is.  Anyway…”

Jake doesn’t need her to finish that sentence.  Anyway, I was a different person then.  One I wouldn’t recognize if we bumped into each other on the street.  It was nice knowing her.  Nice being her.

They smoke in silence for several more minutes, making their own tiny contribution to the Los Angeles smog.  Jake stubs out his cigarette first chance he gets.  

“Thanks,” he says.  “For the—”  He holds up the crumpled stump of filter.  “For the excuse.”

“Yeah, sure.”  And seeing he’s turning to go back inside, Jordan blurts.  “You’re taking care of your parents, right?”  She takes a breath.  “And—and yourself.”

“‘Course.”  Jake inhales, wondering if one cigarette is enough to decrease his lung capacity by fifty percent or if it just feels that way.  “You are too?”

She nods.

There’s time for one more look, one more complex ugly flash of understanding, between them.   Then Jake turns away.  

He’ll head home early that night, and the following afternoon an andalite named Menderash will show up with news of Aximili.  He’ll never see anyone from his family again.  

The clothes make the man

Birthday gift for the lovely @bxdcubes, who deserves it all. I hope you enjoy this, Mar! Happy birthday!

Also, people, NC-17 this one, although I suppose you can skip the sex scene. Apart from that, dorky Stiles a galore, humour and fluff.

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Of course, he got caught that time. He was a kid, what was to be expected? But to all intents and purposes he’s not talking about the after part, but the before. And he got into that evidence room just fine and got his Batman back, so that’s what counts.)

For starters, one has to look the part. And that means clothing and attitude wise, of course. It doesn’t matter if they don a suit if they don’t own it and make it theirs, because they will look like a kid playing with their dad’s clothes and get caught. Apart from that, one has to be able to lie like a pirate while looking innocent like a choir boy if they do get caught. Once one dominates those two aspects, they’re set for success.

Stiles has a three piece suit on, a strut created by the gods and a general I’m-da-boss disposition with a facial expression to match. He also has a very nifty fake identification that he flashes at the guard along with a vaguely superior squint of the eyes (nothing more than that because some security personnel take that as a challenge) that says I dare you to stop me.

He breezes through security.

(Which is good, because he may not be wearing a coat over just lingerie like some girls in the profession, but he’s not wearing any underwear and with the way these trousers fit, Stiles is more than sure that it’s pretty noticeable… which would be a little hard to explain.)

He gets on the elevator and makes sure to keep a calm and unquestionable countenance as the doors close up. There’s a security camera up in the corner and he wishes he could put a hat on, that fedoras where still a thing nowadays… partly because he would totally rock one, partly because that would cover his face nicely. As it is, he has to content himself with using the “paperwork” to cover his features but if things go south and he has to make a hasty retreat, he can always shave off his beard and he’ll be unrecognizable.

(His partner sure will be happy if that happens, because he prefers it when his face is bare and has just been bearing with the change. Stiles needed the beard for this, though, so it couldn’t be helped.)

(Darrows and braiding jokes aside, Stiles doesn’t like having a beard either, to be honest. It’s way to much work to maintain it looking nice and to not let it go over the fence into scruffy lumberack territory. Which, for the record, looks horrible on him because more than a man with a beard it looks like a beard with a man attached. That’s how much the look owns him rather than the other way around.)

The elevator chimes when it reaches the executive floor and Stiles’ eyes dart around quickly, trying to locate any guards and finding none. Mr. Christopher Argent’s office is at the far end of the hall and there’s at least one office in the middle with its lights on, which worries Stiles but not overly much, because despite appearances he’s a pro at being silent when it counts.

And the reward he will get for his services tonight counts a lot. Stiles got really lucky with this one. He’s more than easy on the eyes (fit and handsome) and despite initial appearances he’s not an asshole whose way of getting off is having a capable and attractive looking young man humiliated and licking at his polished and very expensive shoes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that if both parties enjoy it, mind you, it’s just not Stiles’ thing and he hasn’t been always lucky in that department.

He pushes himself forward and advances through the spacious and airy hallway, trying to look inconspicuous as he passes one of the lighted offices. There are plants tastefully placed on both sides and a very wide window on the left that extends from Stiles’ elevator’s exit to another one at the far end (locked after office hours) and he has to admit it’s an impressive view. The smell of pine permeates the air but it’s soft enough to not be bothersome. Stiles supposes it comes from strategically placed air fresheners rather than from the actual wooden floors. Overall, the general sensation it provokes is tranquillity and calm, which Stiles finds slightly ironic since this is a high-end lawyer firm.

The overall effect is ruined, though, when a voice comes right from behind him taking with it some years of his life.

“What are you doing here?”

Stiles turns around abruptly, hoping that his expression is more a mild oh-my-you-startled-me rather than a full on holy-crap-you-scared-the-bejeezus-out-of-me or a fuck-I-got-caught-what-crap-should-I-spew-right-now when he recognizes the big boss among bosses, Peter Hale.

Peter “The Wolf” Hale they call him and he sounded pretty pissed off too. Stiles may have just popped a fear boner just now even if the man looks more surprised than anything else at the moment.

“Ah, good night, sir,” he answers amicably. “Sorry if I startled you. Mr. Argent said that he concentrates better when the office is empty and asked if I could accommodate him today. Frankly, I work better at night myself, so I didn’t mind working the kinks over at this late hour.” He feigns looking and then frowning at his paperwork. “As it is, it will probably take us quite a few intense sessions to hash out everything,” he sighs as if put upon, “so I should probably get going. Sorry again for bothering you.”

He’s a little shit, he knows. Stiles has always gotten his kicks out of playing with dogs bigger than he is. More specifically, from looking harmless like a toy poodle and then turning into a wolf when they least expect it or not letting them realize what has happened until it’s over. Either of those two options is just fine, the reactions are always priceless. He knows this bad habit of his will come back to bite him in the ass someday, but what can he say? He’s a man of many vices.

But, oh, one Peter Hale is the top dog among top dogs and Stiles can feel himself pumped up for the confrontation, the battle of wits, the clash of wills… Ok, but he’s getting carried away, back on track, Stiles. But, really? Peter “The Wolf” Hale. If this isn’t a call for him to… Back on track, Stiles! These pants are tailored to fit him to the millimetre, he can’t afford to pop a full boner. And sadly, as it is, he’s already half mast so he needs to take a grip of himself.

(Crap.)

(Wrong analogy.)

(Abort, abort, abort.)

(You’re a high class prostitute, Stiles, he reminds himself firmly, be more chill!)

Stiles forces himself to nod casually at the man and to turn around to go towards Argent’s office. There’s a pointed silence at his back that feels like the calm before the storm, but he doesn’t let himself react to it and just continues on.

“And when exactly did he make this appointment?” Peter asks nonchalantly before he can take a single step. Stiles turns back around with wide innocent eyes that would probably work better without the beard but whatever.

“About a week ago?” Stiles hums thoughtfully. “On Tuesday afternoon if I recall well. Why? Is there a problem, sir?”

“Ah, you must be the consultant for the Whittemore case then.” Stiles doesn’t confirm or deny, giddy with the knowledge that this may work out in the end even if it isn’t exactly what he planned in the beginning. “I’m afraid that Mr. Argent has taken some days off due to extenuating circumstances and he failed to inform you. I apologize for that, it was very unprofessional.”

“Oh, no harm done, they were extenuating circumstances, after all.” Stiles waves it off. “We can reschedule for when he comes back then.”

“No need, no need! I’m taking on some of his cases until then, and as it happens, the Whittemore’ is one of them. I can pencil you in right now so I hope this at least makes up for the oversight.”

(Crap, Stiles doesn’t trust that congenial smile one bit.)

Stiles plasters a bland smile on his face as he motions to Peter to lead the way and then, discarding the option of making a hasty retreat and the fun that would entail, he follows behind the man towards the one of the lighted offices. As he enters, he takes stock of the room quickly now that the man’s back is to him.

Peter Hale is clearly a fan of the minimalist trend because it’s a very spacious office with relatively few pieces of furniture and trichromatic (black, white and with silver here and there) in its composition. To the left and over a very tasteful but simple black rug, there’s a sitting area with two black leather couches, a big rectangular glass table in the middle of those and a library with law texts covering the entire wall beside the whole set. To the right, and again over a black but different rug, a slightly classic looking wooden desk (oak maybe?) with one of those ergonomic adjustable leather chairs behind and two other simpler but comfortable seeming chairs at the front. At the moment, there are stacks upon stacks of folders and paper on top of the desk, but seeing that even with that seer number of things on it it’s not in disarray, Stiles can bet that normally the man keeps it scrupulously organized. To finish, there are exactly four plants in the office, one on each corner, and little else in the way of decoration. But then again, the view from the massive window right in front of Stiles is more than enough decoration in and of itself.

“I’ll admit that I’m a little… perplexed by your presence here,” Peter states, voice mild as milk, as he takes a seat behind the desk. He makes an inviting gesture towards the chairs in front of it.

“How so?” he inquires just as silkily as he copies the man and accommodates on his seat. He then plasters a genial smile that is in equal parts amicable and challenging and Peter pauses for a nanosecond before he copies the gesture.

“Don’t take offense but the case is an open-and-shut one.” The man carries on, raising up to the challenge and issuing one of his own, and Stiles has a hard time containing a delighted grin. “Besides trying to get a lighter punishment, there’s not much else we can do when the boy got himself caught on tape doing the deed, so I don’t see what it is that you can… assist us with.”

“Well, and that’s exactly why you need my help,” he points out brightly, taking a pen from a holder on the desk and twirling it between his fingers skillfully. Peter’s smile acquires a dangerous edge and Stiles fights to not squirm on his seat at the wave of heat that it provokes on him. “No disrespect meant, of course, outside perspective and all that, you know.”

Stiles may not know the intricacies of what happened with Jackson Whittemore three weeks ago, but he still does know quite a bit because he buys the newspaper, thank you very much, and the society section is always filled with some incident or another of the upper crust of the city. Whittemore is an insufferable rich kid that is always in an on and off relationship with Lydia Martin because of how much of an asshole he is. However, while Stiles may not be able to stand him because of that shitty attitude, he has to concede that he’s also a generally good best friend to Danny Mahealani, who was frequently targeted because of his sexuality until Jackson started to forcefully shut mouths and not care about if it all ended up plastered on the newspapers or not. All of which leads him to believe that the incident of tree weeks ago outside a gay club (which Stiles has been to before, by the way) is less of a hate crime like the newspapers are selling and more of a Jackson stepping up to defend his friend and having the bad luck of just having had the tail end of it caught by the security cameras. So, all in all, he has enough knowledge of the case and of the inner workings of that club to spend at least a good fifteen minutes talking about it without giving the game away.

“Of course,” Peter answers blandly and Stiles shivers again at the tone before he forces himself to snap out of it. “You’re right. Mr. Argent and I may have missed something these three weeks we’ve been combing through all the evidence. A fresh pair of eyes could be all we need to make a breakthrough.”

Ok, Stiles has the self-preservation instincts of a newborn baby and a self-restraint to match, because he wants to climb Peter Hale like a tree right now. That sarcasm was beautiful.

“Exactly! That’s exactly the spirit,” he replies instead tracing his lips with the cap of the pen. Peter’s eyes follow the movement subconsciously and Stiles fights a smirk.

“And you come highly recommended too, so I’m sure your insight will be… priceless.”

“Well, why lie?” Stiles smiles and bites his lip as if he’s being bashful about how sure he is of himself. “I only leave satisfied customers behind so I’d say I’m well worth my fees.”

“That’s a very bold statement to make,” Peter points out as he leans on his chair with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sure you understand that there’s a time to be bold and a time to be meek.” Stiles explains as he opens his legs a little further and leans on the armrest slightly. “I can be both, of course, because one has to be versatile in my line of work, but I tend to be more brazen when let to choose.”

“Ah,” Peter smirks and Stiles tenses in anticipation. “I can see that. Being forced to take a meek approach must be difficult for you, then.”

“Well, it’s always hard, of course, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle. I’ve been through harder situations than just having to control my natural urges-” he lifts his hand to tangle with the locks of hair at his nape at the same time that he mouths at the cap, as if in remembrance of something “-for the sake of the completion of a job.”

“That’s very professional, I’ll give you that, but with all due respect I still fail to see how your versatility can be of any use for me.”

“Well, that may be because you also fail to see that I’m not only versatile. I’m flexible, skillful and I have a lot of stamina, so it’s next to impossible to wear me down once I have my sight set on the goal. But then again, I don’t understand why am I here trying to sell my services to you when Mr. Argent already bought them.”

Peter remains silent, his eyes boring into Stiles’ with an intensity that leaves him nearly breathless. Then he rises up from the chair slowly and like a predator stalking his prey, he goes around the desk to stop in front of Stiles, who has to look up to maintain his defiant look.

“So,” he says insolently and nearly grins at the way Peter’s eyes darken dangerously. “How long are we going to draw this out, Mr. Hale? I’ve already told to you that my services are excellent and that you need them, but if you still have doubts I have no problem taking my business elsewhere. I assure you I have people lining up for my services.”

“You have quite the skillful tongue, I’ll give you that,” he replies silkily, as he advances the last couple of steps until Stiles has to lean back to look at his face.

“You have no idea,” Stiles answers cockily as he rises from his seat with as much grace as he can with Peter so close to him. The action leaves their faces at less than an inch from each other. “And that’s something that won’t change since now I’m the one reconsidering this whole agreement.”

And with that, Stiles turns to leave. Before he can take more than two steps, he’s grabbed and turned around. After a few disorienting seconds, he finds himself restrained against the desk with a hand pressing his neck firmly against the wood.

“And what the hell do you think you’re doing, Mr. Hale?” he snaps at the man.

“Well, as you said, your services have already been paid for-”

“By Mr. Argent.”

“Ah, but that’s the crux, isn’t it? Because if he bought your services for the company and this company is mine… I’m sure you can do the math, sweetheart.” Stiles glares at him and Peter chuckles, pulling him up and turning him around so he can press himself against Stiles’ front. Stiles who is still hard as a rock, gasps at the sensation and Peter smiles like a shark. “Besides, I never said I refused your services, I just said I failed to see their usefulness. But at this point, if it’s already been paid for, any use is better than none, right? In any case,” he smirks as he reaches to tangle a hand on Stiles’ hair, exactly at the spot where he had just done the same moments before to provoke Peter, “paid for or not, I have standards.”

“Wha-” Stiles splutters as Peter starts pushing him backwards.

“I like my twinks barefaced, sweetheart, so that scruff has to go if we’re going to make this experience at the very least tolerable.”

The next thing Stiles knows is that he’s sitting on the restroom’s countertop without his jacket and vest and that Peter is right between his legs tutting a subtle insult about his incompetence. He also has his face lathered up and a barber’s knife is touching his neck, brandished by said man. Ah, and the fear boner is definitely there in full swing. Peter may be possibly smirking too. Stiles would entertain the thought of an adequate answer if, well, he wasn’t too busy paying attention to the very sharp knife currently making its way tortuously slow towards his jaw.

“Well, so far I don’t see where the benefit is in here for me,” the man says loftily as he cleans the lather off the blade and Stiles closes his long legs to press him in as hard as he can in his position.

“I’d say you’re enjoying yourself so far, Mr. Hale,” he quips as he rolls his hips.

“It’s been more trouble than it’s worth so far, the way I see it,” the man smirks pressing harder, earning a shuddering jerk from Stiles. Then he retreats to turn Stiles’ face the way he wants it to make another pass and finish shaving him. When he has his face clean, Peter’s finger presses inside his mouth as he muses softly, “skillful tongue, hmm,” before grabbing his necktie and pulling him off the counter so he can turn him around and press against his back. “But I’m sure you will change that. Right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Hale,” Stiles grunts with thick sarcasm as he grounds his hips back, trying to get the reins back and failing.

Peter retreats suddenly and since he still has a firm grip on Stiles’ necktie, he has to follow him with as much grace as he can. He finds himself in the sitting area near the library and has to bend awkwardly when the man lets himself fall to sit on the couch without having a care about how he pulls Stiles with him when he does so. His intentions are clear though, when he pulls again and Stiles has to fall to his knees to relieve some of the pressure and this time it’s him between the other man’s legs.

“I suggest you’re thorough, sweetheart, because this is all the help you’re going to get,” Peter states cockily, softening his grip on the tie just enough to give him some space to maneuver.

“Ah, Mr. Hale, but we’ve already established that I’m a professional,” he smirks against his bulge, looking upwards to Peter’s eyes the way he knows every man likes, “so of course I came prepared.”

There’s just a couple of seconds in which Peter stills and his eyes seem to burn with intensity before he’s being pulled up and into the man’s lap. Before he knows it his trousers are down, revealing nothing underneath, which prompts a growl out of Peter. Then he’s being maneuvered into straddling him and fighting to not laugh because this tastes like victory already.

Stiles locks his eyes into Peter’s before he smirks and reaches behind himself to grab him, enjoying Peter’s sharp intake of breath at the action. Then he lowers himself tortuously slow, making sure to pause and squeeze every couple of seconds before resuming his way. By the time Peter is fully sheathed he’s clearly fighting for control if the way his fingers are digging into Stiles’ hips is any indication.

Stiles hums with satisfaction and bites his lip before he smiles challengingly. Then he starts grounding his hips in slow circles, wondering when the man’s control will snap. Peter’s eyes promise a gruesome retribution but Stiles just laughs in his face and makes no move to hasten his pace.

Stiles should have known better.

Suddenly, Peter lets go of his hips to grab at Stiles’ hair and pull his head back with one hand and to slip the other between his butt cheeks. Stiles jerks at the sensation and groans when teeth find his nipple through his shirt.

“You dirty cheater,” he groans biting his lip to prevent a louder noise from escaping him.

“All is fair in love and war,” Peter replies a little out of breath but way more in control that he should have any right to. In response, Stiles tries to go the other route to regain the upper hand and quickens his pace. “Ah, ah, ah,” Peter tutts. “And you where doing so well… Slow it down, sweetheart, there’s no rush.”

Stiles arches and whines softly when Peter presses him tighter to himself, adding another friction to his already overloading senses. He tries to go harder again but Peter’s hold doesn’t let him. He glares at the man and he gets a smirk in response. And no, this is not happening. Stiles is not going to suffer through this indignity alone. Either they both win or they both lose.

With that in mind, he twists his hips sharply, making sure to squeeze as hard as he can. Peter curses, tightening his grip, and Stiles laughs breathlessly.

“Peter,” he whines softly in his ear as he squeezes once again.

Peter curses lowly again, becomes taut as a coiled spring, and jabs a vicious finger in revenge that has Stiles shuddering as much as he is. Then they both collapse gasping for breath.

Several minutes later, Peter huffs a laugh and presses a kiss into Stiles’ sweaty shoulder. “Don’t tell me this is why you were growing that beard.”

“It was completely necessary,” Stiles replies into his neck pouting as he swats at his arm weakly.

“Well, I’ll admit that I enjoyed shaving it immensely,” Peter laughs and Stiles waves a there-you-have-it gesture at him, still too spent to move. “But you’re still a dork, sweetheart.”

“Happy birthday, love,” Stiles murmurs turning to look at him with a loving smile. “I’m sure you’ll love my other present.”

“I will, hmm?” Peter hums before kissing his husband softly. “And what could possibly top this?”

“Well, that’s impossible,” Stiles jokes and Peter snorts, “but I’m sure it comes as close as it could possibly be because I know you’ve been really pissed off about that missing recording.”

Peter freezes.

“As in- How in the hell- You can’t mean Jackson’s-”

“Yeah, that recording,” Stiles says smugly before exploding into guffaws right afterwards at the man’s gobsmacked expression.

(Spolier alert: Peter silences his laughter easily enough.)

If you’ve liked this, I invite you to read it once more now that you know that Stiles was role playing to fully appreciate the extent of his dorkiness XD.

Also, kudos to anyone that got that tiny Stiles dressed as a cop to get his batman figure back and that the only reason he got inside was because everyone was too busy laughing/being surprised/trying to find a camera to record it.

sierra-mist-14  asked:

I hope it's not too late to ask this but could you possibly write something for TsukkiYama using 15 (Is that - blood?) or 21 (Jealousy isn’t cute on you) from the angsty/suggestive sentence starters?? I couldn't choose between the two so writers choice!! (: Also, thank you so much for taking the time to write all of these prompts for your followers; you're awesome and a great writer <3

Ah, no, no, thank you! You’re so sweet! I chose to use 15 for this, hope you like this little pre-relationship first year babies angst.

Tsukkiyama - “Is that - blood?” (based off this prompt list)


Yamaguchi was late for their usual Friday night movie. Tsukishima texted once to remind him after he disappeared after practice, then again when he was five minutes late. Two hours later Yamaguchi had a slew of messages from him ranging from annoyance to resignation to worry.

When it started to get dark, Tsukishima gave up on the plan of watching the movie they had picked out together, and set out to find Yamaguchi. He had a lecture already planned about answering text messages back in a timely fashion, and that if Yamaguchi was going to have a cell phone he might as well use it. Tsukishima was fairly certain he knew where Yamaguchi was, too. And what he was doing. Both of which were no excuse to leave Tsukishima waiting at home, wondering when he was going to show up.

He found Yamaguchi right where he thought he would: behind the Shimada Mart, a pool of light from the parking lot lamps betraying his location. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and walked across the asphalt, already rehearsing his spiel about common courtesy and the importance of letting people know when plans were changed.

The words died on his lips when he reached Yamaguchi. He held a volleyball in one hand, the other hovering below it as he breathed deeply through his nose. A portion of the ball was smeared with red, and his empty hand  matched the color perfectly.

“Is that - blood?” Tsukishima asked, forgoing a greeting in concern.

Yamaguchi jumped and turned around, finally noticing that he was not alone in the parking lot. His eyes widened in surprise, and the ball dropped from his hand to bounce once on the ground and roll away.

“What?” he said first, then quickly moved both hands behind his back, away from Tsukishima’s view. “No.”

Keep reading

Dynamite Hack starters.
  • "I'll wait for you. I always do."
  • "Nothing bad I've ever done could warrant this."
  • "You picked the wrong disaster."
  • "Tell yourself that I don't care-- the things you say, the drugs you take."
  • "I am so happy here."
  • "Break my heart and sleep around."
  • "Don't say heartbreak."
  • "Maybe someday you'll see that I would like to be with you and you to be with me too."
  • "I said some things I probably should have kept to myself."
  • "Do what it takes to make it through the day."
  • "I can't picture myself without you."
  • "What's keeping me here?"
  • "Oh what the hell, I'm through with you anyway."
  • "I keep thinking, if I could do last night again I'd act so differently... but I guess I'm gonna have to live with this."
  • "You picked the wrong addiction."
  • "I'm fading in and out of your business."
  • "It's just not accepted! It's still not allowed."
  • "I need your love in my arms."
  • "I want to see if you'd ever feel the same."
  • "So stop following me, I've got nothing to say."
  • "There must be something I can do."
  • "I don't want to leave here just yet."
  • "Every single thing I say gets taken out of context some way."
  • "It's getting on my nerves, so let's call it a night."
  • "Feelings are like attitudes--bad and nothing in between."
  • "It's a long trek taken without all the people you're used to taking it with."
  • "Through the years you have matured, but you'll always look the same to me."
  • "I've seen all I care to hear of what in me is wrong."
  • "But I disagree. Maybe they will see all the pretty things I see."
  • "It's over now-- it's too late."
  • "Man your soul is rotten, but your teeth are pearly white."
  • "Without you I'm better off anyway."
  • "I sat at home and thought of what to say to you when I saw you again."
  • "You're forcing your way in my life."
  • "I want you less and less each day."
  • "I'm drunk but I want some anyway."
  • "I just don't care enough about this to make the effort to show you that I care enough to try to get you back in bed with me."
  • "Is it true? If you were here, I'd ask you."
  • "You know, these things, they happen."
  • "Guys like you are always so entertaining."
  • "Trust me, I won't be sick of all these words I'll never write."
  • "I never get mad, 'cause I know you and how you can be."
  • "Think of what a great boyfriend I could be."
  • "This should be a break for us-- a night that isn't in a pill."
  • "I don't even have all that I'm cracked up to be."
  • "You gotta' be kidding me."
  • "I just want to be alone, sit here and get stoned."
  • "I don't wanna fight, but you never let it go."
  • "I want out of here."
  • "'I'm a jerk, I'm a dog.' That's what you'll say about me."
  • "So here we are, stuck in Hell."
  • "Got drunk again just to drown out my regrets."
  • "Give me one more chance to try and be a little more unkind."
  • "This isn't how it's supposed to be."
Arctic Monkeys Lyric Starter Sentences
  • "Baby, I was made to break your heart."
  • "I wish you'd stop ignoring me."
  • "Oh I'm in trouble again, aren't I?"
  • "I thought as much."
  • "Can't we just laugh and joke around?"
  • "I'm sorry I was late."
  • "I missed the train and then the traffic was a state."
  • "You say I don't care but of course I do."
  • "Who's that girl there?"
  • "What a scummy man."
  • "I'm sorry, love, but I'll have to turn you down."
  • "What are the chances?"
  • "I've got a feeling in my stomach."
  • "She must be fucking freezing."
  • "I hope you're not involved at all."
  • "Sorry, sunshine, it doesn't exist."
  • "Whatever that means."
  • "Who'd want to be men of the people when there's people like you?"
  • "Landed in a very common crisis."
  • "Where did you go?"
  • "You're not coming back again."
  • "You've had enough."
  • "If I'd have known then I wouldn't have said it."
  • "If I predicted tears then I wouldn't have said it."
  • "I don't know what it is that they want."
  • "I haven't got it to give."
  • "When you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect?"
  • "I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck."
  • "I did last time I checked."
  • "I crumble completely when you cry."
  • "Have you no idea that you're in deep?"
  • "I dreamt about you nearly every night this week."
  • "How many secrets can you keep?"
  • "There's this tune I found that makes me think of you."
  • "Was sort of hoping that you'd stay..."
  • "The nights were mainly made for saying thats that you can't say tomorrow day."
  • "Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?"
  • "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new..."
  • "I've thought it through."
  • "I'm sorry to interrupt."
  • "I don't know if you feel the same as I do."
  • "We could be together if you wanted to."
  • "Ever thought of calling darling?"
  • "Do you want me crawling back to you?"
  • "Here isn't where I wanna be."
  • "All I wanna hear her say is "Are you mine?""
  • "Are you mine?"
  • "Satisfaction feels like a distant memory."
  • "Are you mine tonight?"
  • "I saw this coming from the start."
  • "There's no need to show me 'round."
  • "Will you pour me one for the road?"
  • "Don't get that sinking feeling."
  • "Don't fall apart."
  • "Soundtrack to disaster."
  • "The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes."
  • "You can't be sure."
  • "She's a modern lover."
  • "Her lips are like the galaxy's edge."
  • "I want it all."
  • "Ain't it just like you to kiss me and then hit the road."
  • "Come on, come on, come on."
  • "It's not like I'm falling in love."
  • "I just want you to do me no good."
  • "You look like you could."
  • "She's with me."
  • "I can't explain."
  • "It's kinda strange now that you're gone."
  • "There's all these secrets that I can't keep."
  • "Has it gone for good?"
  • "Isn't it hard to make up your mind?"
  • "I suspect you already know?"
  • "I thought I was yours forever?"
  • "Maybe i was mistaken."
  • "I cannot manage to make it through the day without thinking of you."
  • "But I'm not finished."
  • "I thought I saw you leaving, carrying your shoes."
  • "I'm trying to change your mind."
  • "Left you multiple missed calls."
  • "Why'd you only call me when you're high?"
  • "I need a partner."
  • "It's harder and harder to get you to listen."
  • "Sort of feels like I'm running out of time."
  • "I haven't found what I was hoping to find."
  • "You gotta be up in the morning."
  • "You're starting to bore me, baby."
  • "What have you been up to?"
  • "I heard that you fell in love."
  • "I gotta tell you the truth..."
  • "Snap out of it."
  • "I'll be here, waiting ever so patiently."
  • "Forever isn't for everyone."
  • "Darling, how could you be so blind?"
  • "You made it all alright."
  • "I had nothing to lose."
  • "You call the shots babe."
  • "I just wanna be yours."
P!ATD Lyrics Starter Meme

A mixture of fluff, angst and nsfw.

“We’re still so young, desperate for attention.”

“It seems the artists these days are not who you think.”

“I aim to be your eyes.”

“Stop stalling, make a name for yourself.”

“The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: A. Indifference or B. Disinterest in what the critics say.”

“It’s time for us to take a chance.”

“Watch your mouth because your speech is slurred enough.”

“Just sit back and relax.”

“Am I who you think about in bed?”

“I’ve got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy/girl you’ll ever meet.”

“Sweetie, you had me.”

“Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?”

“I hope you didn’t expect that you’d get all of the attention.”

“Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention!”   

“Now I’m of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret.”

“But, but I’m afraid that I… Well, I may have faked it.”

"Haven’t you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!”

“I mean technically our marriage is saved.”

“I’m wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“Your eyes are the size of the moon.”

“Go on, grab your hat and fetch a camera. Film the world before it happens.”

“It’s useless searching in the cupboards when everything you have is on your back.”

“Things have changed for me, and that’s okay. I feel the same.”

“I want to go where everyone goes, I want to know what everyone knows, I want to go where everyone feels the same.”

“I know the world’s a broken bone but melt your headaches, call it home.”  

“You remind me of a former love that I once knew.”

“Well, that all depends what you qualify as friends.”

“I’m not complaining that it’s raining. I’m just saying that I’d like it a lot, more than you think, if the sun would come out and sing with me.”

“Would it be all right if we just sat and talked for a little while?”

“I won’t change my hair. It grows like fancy flowers.”  

“If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse I’d put a statue of myself upon the shelf.”

“I was born with curiosity.”

"We’re all too smart to talk to God.”

“Nothing really mattered except for me to be with you.”

“I’ve never been more scared to be alone.”

“If love is not enough to put my enemies to sleep, then I’m putting out the lantern.”

“Because when I look in her/his eyes I just see the sky.”  

“I don’t love you, I’m just passing the time.”

“You could love me if I knew how to lie.”

“I am out of my mind.”

“If you’re going, then go.”

“We must reinvent love.”

“I know it’s mad, but if I go to hell will you come with me or just leave?”

“I know it’s mad, but if the world were ending would you kiss me or just leave me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you’ve paid for.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

"Give me a sign, I want to believe.”

“Show them all you’re not the ordinary type.”

“I led the revolution in my bedroom and I set all the zippers free.”

“Oh, kiss me!”

“Fix me, or conflict me. I’ll take anything.”

“You were all I’ve ever known!”

“If I ever leave I could learn to miss you.”

“If I could trade mistakes for sheep, count me away before you sleep.”

“I’ll stay awake till I trade my mistakes or they fade away.”

“I’m ready to go.”

“I’d rather be a cannibal. Animals like me don’t talk anyway.”

“There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends.”

“I meant everything I said that night.”

“At night your body is a symphony, and I’m conducting.”

“You fooled me once with your eyes. Now you fooled me twice with your lies.”  

“I don’t mind. Take your time I got things to do besides sit around and wait for you.”  

“You strip away my pride.”  

“You have set your heart on haunting me forever.”

“Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume.”  

“How does a heart love, if no one has noticed its presence and where does it go?”

“I only need two more miracles to be a saint.”

“Lately it seems like everybody’s sick, everybody’s tired.”

“I wanna be more than you’re thinking of.”

"Everything seems to be estranged when you’re alone…”

“I got so sick of being on my own.”

“Our consciences are always so much heavier than our egos.”  

“I set my expectations high, so nothing ever comes out right.”

“I need a little sympathy to sore my insecurities.”

"My favorite place is the warm embrace of holding your hair back in a bathroom stall.”  

“I’m not trying to hurt you, I just love to speak.”  

“I’ll still be here, wishing and waiting for you to come home.”

“I’ve got an insatiable desire for your insides.”

“If you love me let me go.”

“These words are knives and often leave scars.”

“I won’t give up without a fight.”

“Are you nasty?”

“Our cynical minds will make it totally worth it.”

“I’ve lost control and I don’t want it back.”  

“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you.”

“Damn your kiss and the awful things you do.”

“You’re worse than nicotine.”

“Your love’s a fucking drag.”

“And never did I think that I would be caught in the way you got me.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”    

“I am just a villain vying for attention.”  

“Hush! Don’t say a word.”

“I want to complicate you.”

“Don’t let me do this to myself.”

“You never could control me.”  

“Give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die.” 

“Show me your love before the world catches up.” 

“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go.”

“I am always yours.”  

“In these coming years many things will change, but the way I feel will remain the same.”

“Stop there and let me correct it, I wanna live a life from a new perspective.”    

"I’ll admire your expensive taste.”  

“I wanna be praised from a new perspective.”

“I know there’s no more that need be said when I’m inching through your bed.”

“Take a look around instead and watch me go.”  

“It’s not fair, just let me perfect it!”

“Catch me up! I’m getting out of here.”

THE FRONT BOTTOMS//03.12.16

OKay so I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now because seeing The Front Bottoms was probably one of the highlights of my life and i need to get this night down because im so scared parts of the night will slowly start to go from my memory and im sentimental lmao((I’m also failing english so you’re getting this as a just a list of things that made this night great sorrynotsorry))


  • okay for starters i looked hella good this day, had a sparkly top on, my hair in sick space buns and i just felt so confident with this new look it was so great
  • I’d been looking forwards to this gig for ages and i’ve wantted to see tfb for so so long 
  • it was a day after my mocks finished so it was such a relief and almost a celebration
  • It was at my favourite venue (kentish town O2 forum) and we ate cookies in the queue 
  • we met the nicest girl in the crowd and we spoke to her until the support act came on
  • we then met these other guys who were really nice too and quite jokes although they didnt actually like tfb and were just there for the support at Gnarwolves so we were with them/bumping into them every now again in the crowd during gnarwolves and then they left to go get high
  • I cant remember if we then met these other girls before gnarwolves too or before tfb, hence why im writing this all down because these are my fav memories and i dont wanna forget!! but anyway we got talking to these lovely girls(basically this was one of the friendliest crowds at a gig i have ever been to which is a big reason why this night was so great tbh) and they told me they’d been judging everyone and decided I had the best space buns which actually made me feel so so good about myself….FIve minutes later though and the music starts, someone crowd surfs over me and kicks my space buns out:// i guess it was too good to be true, typical eh?
  • Honestly i can remember the first support act, they were called Apologies, i have none but i cant actually remember their set. I guess no memories means it cant have been that bad tho??
  • Gnarwolves though were so sick, the crowd was so so mad and they put on a hell of a set. I’d listened to them before and knew who they were but only after i’d seen them live did i realise just how good these guys were and i would definitely see them again if i get the chance 
  • Every single second the front bottoms were on stage i had the biggest smile on my face, they were so so amazing and i actually love them and their music so much. Like not even just fangirling i have so much respect for this band and still dont understand why those guys we met didn’t stick around to see tfb
  • If i were to say the crowd was dead I’d be telling the biggest lie. For some reason I live for the feeling of near death, struggling to hold yourself up, having a lack of breath, being severely dehydrated and overheating, either being pressed up closer to someone than even thought possible or being in the pit throwing yours into and onto people left, right and centre in time to the music. Not to mention the surprise of suddenly having someone’s body part flung over you’re head from behind you and being expected to hold this person up when you can barely hold yourself up. To any non gig goer you wont understand and when i start to think about it i dont really either but theres something about being in these crowds which makes me feel happier than anywhere else in the world.
  • Having said that, and meaning it, during the encore some people had already started to leave and i wasnt bothered about being right at the front so for the last couple of songs i got myself a little space and danced and sung my heart out knowing full well i probably looked like the biggest twat going but i honestly didnt care in the slightest.
  • ‘WITH TEARS IN MY EYES I BEGGED YOU TO STAY YOU SAID HEY MAN I LOVE YOU BUT NO FUCKING WAY’ Putting every last emotion and breath into sing/screaming this made me so unbelievably happy and one point me and this guy sung the hey man i love you part to each other and god singing to strangers in the crowd is probably on of the best feelings i cant explain it. 

Okay so these next bits werent actually at the gig but it was still that night so im counting it.

  • So me and my mate got on the tube absolutely buzzing and chatting away about the gig and this guy opposite us obviously realised we’d been to the same gig as him and he was listening to his music so he started humming and singing along and as it was the front bottoms we joined in singing and so he took his headphones out to play the music out loud and it was just quite jokes. also he was really drunk and basically invited us out with him but we had to get the train home
  • then on the way to the train station we stopped at a shop and got some grapes and water but let me tell you grapes are the best after gig snack like its soo refreshing.
  • we then got on the train home and oh my god this is my favourite train ride and favourite story to tell ever, basically me and my friend sat on one table of four and there was another one next to it with this drunk guy(Nick from Sevenoaks with a brussel sprouts christmas jumper) on and we were just happily sat with our grapes and cookies on the table still buzzing and this group of drunk people in their late 20′s probably came and sat on both tables(there was like 8 of them) and they were the funniest people and at first we were just kind of listening in to thier conversations and like laughing to ourselves but then one of the guys was like ‘omg do you guys have food!?’ so we were like yeah and passed over our grapes and cookies to them(bc sharing is caring) and that kind of made them start talking to us and it was so eventful like being the sober one you realise how much shit drunk people chat it’s so so funny and anyway we were talking to them for quite a while as i think we were all on the train together for like a good hour and somehow we got on to the subject of relationships and one of the girls asked Nick the one who was originally on the train if he had a girlfriend and he was like no so then they asked me and i said no to so they got the bright idea to set us up and they all were so excited and were like come on molly swap seats swap seats so i’d be opposite him and i was just there like nahhh and i kid you not they like dragged me up and made me move seats and then they put the grapes and cookies(which they’d pretty much ate all of) on the table in between us to make it ‘date like’ and then one of the guys went all speed dating mode and starting asking us both questions about us so we’d get to know each other and this may sound weird but trust me it was the funniest thing ever to happen. We also got them listening to tfb and we were all sat on the train listening to them so yeah that was a pretty fun train ride

So yeah that was the night I saw the front bottoms and even though it was the whole night that made this i cannot wait for the front bottoms to tour again and if you havent already….LISTEN TO THE FRONT BOTTOMS !!

Friends-to-Enemies
  • "You don't have to do this."
  • "I have to do this."
  • "I don't want to hurt you."
  • "Don't make me hurt you."
  • "Leave now, before I have to hurt you."
  • "Where did we go wrong?"
  • "It's not too late."
  • "It's too late."
  • "You can still stop this."
  • "There's no turning back now."
  • "Why are you doing this?"
  • "How could you do this?"
  • "How could you do this to me?"
  • "I thought I was your friend."
  • "I thought you were my friend."
  • "I thought we were friends."
  • "What were you thinking?"
  • "I can't let you do this."
  • "This isn't you."
  • "This isn't like you."
  • "Let's talk about this."
  • "Please talk to me."
  • "Can we at least talk about this?"
  • "Why won't you talk to me?"
  • "Stop ignoring me!"
  • "Let's just start over."
  • "We aren't friends anymore!"
  • "Stop acting like nothing has changed!"
  • "It will never be the same between us."
  • "Stop pretending everything is okay!"
  • "Stop trying to change me."
  • "You can't fix me!"
  • "This isn't going to just go away."
  • "Get over it."
  • "Leave me alone."
  • "This isn't going to change anything."
  • "Think about what you're doing."
  • "You can't turn your back on people who care about you!"
  • "You're going to get hurt."
  • "You've changed too much."
  • "You aren't even trying."
  • "You've already given up."
  • "You have to stop this."
  • "You're going to destroy everything."
  • "You're going to ruin everything."
  • "You ruined my life!"
Nickelback ‘Feed The Machine’ lyric starters

Feed the Machine

❛ Baiting every hook with filthy lies. ❜
❛ Another charlatan to idolize. ❜
❛ Is this suppression just in my mind? ❜
❛ No more questions, get back in line! ❜
❛ Pay with your life, the duller the knife, the longer it takes. ❜
❛ But now it’s your turn, the ashes will burn, and wither away. ❜
❛ Carving the truth, while harvesting you, to feed the machine. ❜
❛ The gears forever turn to grind the mice. ❜
❛ Will you become the fuel for sacrifice? Power absolutely all for show. ❜
❛ Is this obsession behind your eyes? ❜
❛ Why must the blind always lead the blind? ❜
❛ Why do I feel like the fault is mine? ❜
❛ Why must the weakest be sacrificed? ❜

Coin for the ferryman

❛ We just got high and hopin’ no one could tell ❜
❛ But with the icky and the sticky it don’t matter where the wind blows ❜
❛ Lighter in my hand and I got nothing to burn ❜
❛ Pick up a shotgun and we’ll all take turns ❜
❛ But don’t you ever say a word cause you know momma’s gonna hate that ❜
❛ Tidal wave in motion you can’t hide from the explosion In 3…2…1 ❜
❛ We’re smokin’ dynamite too many fuses to light ❜
❛ A thousand Fahrenheit’s and we’re about to ignite ❜
❛ We may never see tomorrow ❜
❛ If tonight’s our time to go, the one thing I know we’ll need a coin for the ferryman ❜
❛ And we can make it, but we take the chance of never coming back home   ❜
❛ The dice that we’ve been rollin’ where our lives are bitter stolen ❜
❛ Our kingdom come, on the run ❜
❛ One for the road and one for those who never leave ❜
❛ One for the Lord and take it from the devil ❜
❛ Don’t even try, ‘cause you know you can’t hide ❜
❛ Better run, better run, better run ❜

Song on Fire

❛ The first words that come out and I can see this song will be about you ❜
❛ I can’t believe that I can breathe without you but all I need to do is carry on. ❜
❛ The next line I write down and there’s a tear that falls between the pages ❜
❛ I know that pain’s supposed to heal in stages but it depends which one I’m standing on ❜
❛ I write lines down, then rip them up ❜
❛ Describing love can’t be this tough ❜
❛ I could set this song on fire, send it up in smoke ❜
❛ I could throw it in the river and watch it sink in slowly ❜
❛ Tie the pages to a plane and send it to the moon ❜
❛ I’m dying to show you this could end happily ever after ❜
❛ There doesn’t ever have to be disaster ❜
❛ And all you have to do is sing along ❜
❛ Impossible describing love ❜
❛ Light this old guitar on fire, I’d still hear the notes ❜
❛ Drown the melody in water, I’d still hear its ghost ❜
❛ Sing it with somebody else, but we’d be out of tune ❜
❛ Play it for the world, but it won’t mean much ❜

Must Be Nice

❛ One step, two step, electric slide, red fish, blue fish, blow your mind ❜
❛ Mama’s gonna let you set the moon on fire ❜
❛ Jack be nimble, jack be quick. Jack wound up with a broken neck ❜
❛ Humpty Dumpty, do your thing. ❜
❛ Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring . ❜
❛ Oh, it must be nice to spend each day in paradise ❜
❛ You wonder why you’ve never failed ❜
❛ Your life’s a goddamn fairy tale ❜
❛ Suzie steamboat, you’re so fine ❜
❛ Grant the wish I wish tonight ❜
❛ Tinker tailor, whatcha’ got? ❜
❛ Wheels on the bus are falling off ❜
❛ Pretty maids all in a row. Yes, sir, yes, sir three bags full ❜
❛ Stick your diamond ring where the sun don’t shine ❜

After The Rain

❛ All your life’s scrambling, scurrying ❜
❛ Take your time rather than hurry ❜
❛ Never too late to write the rest of your story ❜
❛ Remember to breathe or else you’re gonna be sorry ❜
❛ Life’s no race, it’s a companion. Always face with reckless abandonment . ❜
❛ Everybody says that life takes patience but nobody wants to wait ❜
❛ Everybody says we need salvation but nobody wants to be saved ❜
❛ The blue sky’s we wait on are gonna have to come after the rain ❜
❛ Avoid the taste of wanting and wasteful ❜
❛ Every good thing will come in moderation ❜
❛ Envy and greed will only lead to frustration ❜
❛ Choose your friends, carefree and kindly. Choose your words, careful and wisely ❜
❛ Always be there to lend a comforting shoulder. One will be there to share again when you’re older ❜
❛ Old mistakes committed upon us. Always take a toll on the conscience ❜
❛ Every regret is a gift that you live with. Never forget to remember forgiveness ❜

For The River

❛ Stuck in a cage, luck of the draw. Always a way, gotta get out ❜
❛ Get me a key, pick me a lock. Gotta be free, ready or not ❜
❛ Gotta run, gotta run ❜
❛ Nowhere to hide, 'cause someone’s always gonna find you ❜
❛ Trying to breathe with everybody right behind you ❜
❛ Scattering leaves to try and cover up the footprints ❜
❛ Water ahead 'cause I can hear it in the distance ❜
❛ I’m running for the river ❜
❛ They’ll never catch me ❜
❛ You can ride, you can fly, you can tell 'em that you tried, but there ain’t no going back   ❜
❛ Tell 'em that you tried, but you’re never gonna catch me ❜
❛ Let off the hounds, stand off the guards. Never be found, better than bars ❜
❛ “Damn it, he’s a fast one” ❜
❛ Gotta be free, so don’t ever stop ❜

Home

❛ Lying awake, did it again for Christ sake ❜
❛ Should’ve told her to go, and I know it but she tasted like home ❜
❛ I did what I did, can’t say hey man, I’m just a kid ❜
❛ Saw the lie in my eyes, couldn’t hide it ❜
❛ Oh, home ain’t what I call it ❜
❛ But I’m the only ghost walkin’ through the hallways ❜
❛ The pain gets so much clearer when the one to blame is standing in the mirror ❜
❛ This fool, this liar. Lit a match and set his life on fire ❜
❛ I guess I’d rather be alone In a house that’s not a home ❜
❛ The pain in my heart’s 'cause we’re a thousand miles apart ❜
❛ I’ve got no one to blame for the shame ❜
❛ I hope she’s waiting back home ❜
❛ Stupid to think that I could blame it on the drink ❜
❛ Now I’m trying to stall making calls to someone back home ❜
❛ I walk through the door and there’s no light on anymore ❜
❛ Must have known all along I was wrong ❜
❛ Cause there’s no one at home. No one’s waiting back home ❜
❛ The pain gets so much clearer ❜
❛ I guess I’d rather be alone ❜

The Betrayal (Act III)

❛ Table has been set. Serving up the worst regret ❜
❛ Waiting for the chance. ❜
❛ Serpents love the circumstance ❜
❛ Naming of your price. Payment for the sacrifice ❜
❛ Demon in your ear. Evil on your breath ❜
❛ You’ve brought the wolves right here ❜
❛ You’ve brought the kiss of death ❜
❛ You’ve just betrayed him ❜
❛ The moment we’ve all been waiting ❜
❛ You won’t believe until he’s gone ❜
❛ Your noose is waiting (No need to wait) ❜
❛ Go on, go on ❜
❛ Committed to your task. Jealousy behind your mask ❜
❛ Pieces are in place ❜
❛ Dealings that can’t be undone. Blood on your hands ❜
❛ Pawn inside the master plan ❜
❛ What have you gained? What have you done? ❜
❛ Nothing but shame and there’s nowhere to run ❜
❛ Who takes the blame? Why have they come? ❜
❛ What in God’s name have you done? ❜

Silent Majority

❛ How could this affect my life? ❜
❛ How could I affect the outcome? ❜
❛ So why even try. For what, for what, for what, for what? ❜
❛ A cowards can save the day. When the bravest of men just stand by ❜
❛ So what if we all stand up? What if we don’t give in? ❜
❛ What if we trade it all complacency for a voice that will be ignored? ❜
❛ How can we just give up? How can we just give in? ❜
❛ What if the silent majority wasn’t silent anymore? ❜
❛ A candle’s the smallest light. But a handful becomes a lighthouse ❜
❛ Cutting the night for us, ❜
❛ The one with the loudest voice Is really the one to follow ❜
❛ Silence the noise ❜
❛ Hurry up, the world needs this ❜
❛ Speak up now or we can pick up the pieces ❜

Everytime we’re together

❛ I’m back in my hometown ❜
❛ And Main Street’s dying now ❜
❛ It’s like there’s nothing left of it ❜
❛ No more high school grounds. They tore that building down ❜
❛ The backyard fire’s on ❜
❛ The years have come and gone. But the stories carry on ❜
❛ Looking back they’re better than they used to be ❜
❛ 'Cause you should have seen the size of the guys we were fighting ❜
❛ And we shouldn’t be alive at the speeds we were driving ❜
❛ But Mama always taught us to never tell a lie, ❜
❛ Every girl we were with never cost any money ❜
❛ And we drank more tequila than any man alive ❜
❛ And the story goes on and gets a little better. Every time we’re together ❜
❛ It’s funny how we change and some things stay the same ❜
❛ God, I miss the glory days always ❜
❛ Lord, I love the memories we’ve made ❜

Please be okay

Request: Could you make an imagine where the reader gets stabbed and peter pan freaks out. Lots of angst and fluff pleaaseeee!

Rating: T

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

(Y/N’s) Pov:

Today hadn’t been the best day, for starters I slept in too late and missed breakfast and training, on my evening run I tripped and fell in mud, getting laughed at when I came back to camp all muddy with my hair looking a mess. I even got into a fight with Peter for spending to much time with my friend Felix. Hes so over protective, he always has to make sure he knows exactly where I are.

That’s why I crept away during training the next morning to get away from everyone. I know my way around so its not like I’d get lost or anything. I go to my favorite spot, a little clearing next to mermaid lagoon. Its close enough where I can see them but far enough away so they don’t know i’m there.

I know its a risk coming here, since its quite far from camp, but its so peaceful. Three mermaids swim to the surface and perch themselves on their rock. Then they begin to sing. But the song isn’t their normal playful song, its their feeding song, only sung to attract men when their near. 

I hear bushes rustling and two pirates come out, instantly going towards the mermaids. I know where this is going, they always leave a mess…

———————————————————————————————–

The suns just about to set when I can faintly hear the lost boys yelling and peters music. I guess today wasn’t so bad, so i’ll join them and maybe dance with peter if he wants. 

“And whats a pretty lass like you doing out here all by her self?” I hear a raspy voice come from behind me. I turn around and three of hooks pirate goons are there, with yellow toothed smiles and swords pointed at me. 

“Here to kidnap me as usual i presume? You know peter will just save me and kill all of you.” I forgot the pirates were still here, they usually don’t stay long, but when they do its never fun. Sometimes I remember to bring my sword with me so if i get into this kind of situation i can easily take them, their usually drunk anyway. That’s why their other shipmates fell for the mermaids trap so easily. But I was to mad at peter to remember to grab it.

“Not this time lass, captain gave us new orders.” One of the pirates says, but its as if he almost doesn’t want to. was there a hint of regret on his face?

I’m expecting them to just knock me out, or try to grab me, but they just stand there waiting. Waiting for what? My heart stops when I realize their looking at someone behind me, but it was already to late.

A sharp pain goes through my stomach, and a small cry escapes my lips. I look down and see a blade covered in my own blood, sticking out of my stomach. An arm wraps around my chest to keep me from falling, while the other hand holds the blade in place. A face brushes up against my ear.

“Its nothing personal love, I just don’t know any other way to make that bloody demon suffer.” I’d know that voice anywhere, its hook. I knew he hated peter, but I never thought he’d stoop this low.

I cant even talk, blood pours from my mouth whenever I try. Hook realizes this and swiftly pulls the sword out of me. I make a week whimpering sound and fall into his arms and cover my wound with my hands, tears run down my face as I give him look of pain and sorrow. He looks down at me with guilt and sadness, then gently lifts me up and lays me down on a large rock. I’m expecting him to end my suffering, but he just lets a single tear fall, then turns and leaves with the rest of his shipmates. Leaving me to eventually bleed out and die. I’m to week to even move, and my eyes are just begging to close, but if I give in I probably wont be able to open them again.

————————————————————————————————-

(Peter’s) Pov:

I watch as the boys dance around the fire and cant help but feel bad about the fight I had with Y/N, But I just get so protective of her, I don’t want anyone taking her from me. I probably should’ve went to get her by know, but she probably wants her alone time. I can apologize when she gets back.

But when I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach, I know somethings wrong. My thoughts instantly go to Y/N and think of the worst things that could’ve happened to her. I don’t even tell the boys I’m leaving and immediately fly off the way she went.

“Y/N!……Y/N!……Please answer love….” I whisper the last part to myself. My hearts beating out of my chest thinking the worst. Drops of red on the ground catch my ear and I land next to them. I touch a drop with my finger and examine it closer……..blood.

I look right and then left, and there’s Y/N, on a rock, laying in her own blood. I race over to her, pulling her into my arms and putting my ear to her chest. Her heart is barely beating, and her breathing is getting slower by the minute.

“Its going to be ok love, just keep that heart beating.”

There’s only one way I can save her, but its on the other side of the island. 

The healing waterfall…

———————————————————————————————

(Y/N’s) Pov:

I slowly open my eyes, expecting to be in the underworld, or some other place. Not my bedroom though. I slowly sit up and look around, until my eyes land on peter. Hes sleeping next to me with his arm around my waist. He looks so tired. He must have found me and flown him and myself all the way to the healing waterfall. 

I lay back down and cuddle into his side, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. He shifts slightly and pulls me into him tighter, then softly kisses my head. I whisper a quiet “Thank you” and softly kiss his lips.

He gives me a loving smile, and caresses my cheek. “Your my world Y/N, I promise I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again. As land as your with me, you’ll never have to hurt like that again.I would give up anything for you, I love you to much to let you go.”

I never thought I could feel loved as much as I do now, and by Peter Pan of all people. But to have someone love you so much that they would give up anything for you, is the most amazing feeling in the world.

Before she falls asleep in my arms, she whispers the words I’ve waited to hear her say since she took my hand and left her world behind.

“I love you too.”

I guess even villains can have their happily ever after too.