just as he's never scratched any of the things on his cute little list

Devoid Of Color - Smut

Originally posted by multihxe

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Words: 4,170
AN: This was an anon request for a Soulmate AU where you didn’t see colors until you met your soulmate. I hope I did this justice because Soulmate AU’s are my FAVORITE. Love ya’ll, let me know what you think!

Title taken from Halsey’s Colors. The Veselka and Space Billiards are real places in NYC. You’re welcome.

If there was anything you wanted more in life, it was to meet your soulmate. As strange as it sounds, meeting your soulmate was a top priority in everyone’s life, because you needed to meet them in order to see color. The world was just a drab mixture of blacks and greys before that. Your mother had explained it to you once when you were small, that color would wash over your vision slowly, dull and drab, but still there. It was only when you got to know them more that the colors would become brighter, streaks of red and blue and yellow lighting up the world in full HD.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

do it kat. write that narukono time travel fix-it. drag us farther into hell.

*dumps this in front of you as a distraction/tribute*

Naruto is pretty sure he has a crush.

It is absolutely, definitely not on any of the many assorted women Jiraiya has dragged him to meet in the name of information gathering, even though he’s sure they’re perfectly nice ladies. But he’s seen Jiraiya disappear into their brothels a few too many times for comfort, and even when the pervert tries to hint that he should take one of them up on their offers to make him a man Naruto just plays dumb.

It’s kind of insulting that Jiraiya always buys it. Naruto might think at things differently, but that doesn’t make him stupid.

He’s also not a perv like Jiraiya, so there’s that, too.

But, the last few times Jiraiya has been otherwise occupied for the night—which usually means Naruto will actually be left to his own devices for the next week or so, until Jiraiya has burned through all of his cash and whatever he can bum off of Naruto—he’s ended up talking to the same stranger. Never at the same place twice, but—randomly. By the river washing clothes, or in the market buying dinner, or at a ramen stand that’s almost as good as old man Teuchi’s, or at the best camping spot along the road.

After the third time, Naruto thinks about being suspicious. He and Jiraiya are hardly falling a set path, after all, and to keep bumping into the same stranger—that probably means something. But—

But he’s nice.

It probably says a lot, that Naruto is still so unused to people showing him any sort of kindness at all.

“You must have been training pretty hard,” the man says, the first time they talk. He’s eyeing Naruto’s scorched, battered clothes with something that might even be respect, and he meets Naruto’s startled look with a smile as he tugs the blue scarf from around his neck.

“Uh, I try my best!” Naruto says, offering him a smile in return even as he rubs the back of his head a bit sheepishly. His clothes are in a pretty horrible state; Naruto isn’t sure he’s going to be able to patch them enough to wear, though Jiraiya probably won’t notice either way. He might even start campaigning for Naruto to switch to being a girl again so they can travel that way. It’s not that Naruto minds being a girl, but he doesn’t want to play eye-candy for his perv of a godfather. That’s just creepy.

“I could use some practice, if you want to spar,” the man offers. He grins, and adds, “I’m Kono—uh. I’m Konomaru!”

Well, that was…suspicious. Naruto eyes him for a second, but when he doesn’t sprout tentacles and fangs or start monologuing, he figures the guy is probably okay. He’s not getting any weird vibes off of him, at least, and Naruto even gets those off Jiraiya, as fond as he is of the pervert.

“Nice to meet you!” he answers cheerfully. “I’m Naruto!” Jiraiya’s drilled him on not offering a last name—or his status as a jinchuuriki, but Naruto would hardly tell anyone that willingly under pain of death—while they’re nominally laying low, so he doesn’t immediately announce his dream, either. No need to connect all the pieces for him if this guy is an enemy.

But, when he glances up, there’s no sign of villainous posturing about to start. Instead Konomaru is smiling, gentle and almost fond as he looks at Naruto, and—

It’s really not a way anyone has ever looked at Naruto before. Not even Iruka looks at him quite like that.

A little flustered, he ducks his head, pulling his black t-shirt off and dumping it with the rest of his things to be washed.

Konomaru promptly makes a noise like he’s choking on his tongue.

“You okay?” Naruto asks cautiously, watching him cough and turn red.

“Yep!” the man squeaks, in a pitch way higher than any Naruto has heard since Kiba hit puberty. He fans his red face with one hand, still coughing. “Sorry, uh, water. Went down the wrong way.”

Naruto’s fairly certain he wasn’t drinking, but he just shrugs and goes back to his clothes, debating whether to get his needle and thread first or just wash them. Probably better to see if they can be salvaged at all first.

“Are you a ninja too, then?” he asks, digging through his pack. He’s getting low on thread, but given how ripped his jacket is from the last time he experimented with the Rasengan, it’s not going to matter.

“I am!” Konomaru sounds a lot cheerier. “I even made jounin at seventeen!”

He’s probably a bit over that now, Naruto thinks. Nineteen, maybe? “That’s awesome,” he agrees, grinning up at the man. “I’m going to make jounin soon too, believe it!”

“I’m absolutely sure you will,” Konomaru says, giving him that smile again.

They never get that spar, since Jiraiya ends up getting kicked out of town for propositioning the headman’s wife while drunk, but they talk the next few times they run into each other. Each meeting is a few weeks apart, in different villages, but it’s clear they’re both traveling and Konomaru is delighted to see him every time.

It makes something warm twist in Naruto’s stomach, and…it’s not the loud-bright pay attention to me that Naruto felt about Sakura. It’s a little quieter, a little sharper, and sometimes when it’s dark he lies awake in his bedroll and just…thinks about Konomaru.

It’s probably definitely a crush.

“You know,” Konomaru says one night as they’re setting up camp together, Jiraiya back in the town and water for ramen waiting to be boiled. (It’s Konomaru’s favorite food too, and Naruto thinks that just makes him even more awesome.) “You said you’re training with a master, but…I haven’t seen him around.”

“He’s busy,” Naruto says, and keeps it cheerful through long practice lying about things like that. It’s not precisely a lie, because Jiraiya is busy, and he’s definitely doing important work, but—

Naruto just wishes that sometimes their training was more than just being told what to do before Jiraiya disappears again.

When he glances up, Konomaru is looking away, scratching at his cheek with a slightly uncertain expression. He swallows nervously, glancing at Naruto and then away again, and says abruptly, “My—my name’s actually Konohamaru. Sarutobi Konohamaru.”

Naruto blinks. He takes in the familiar blue scarf, the faint flush, the face stripped of its baby fat, and—

“Like—like my Konohamaru?” Naruto asks disbelievingly.

Konohamaru flushes further, ducking down to hide the bottom of his face in his scarf. “I time-traveled to save you,” he blurts. “And—and I’m going to help you save the world and then I’m going to save you because—because you’re Boss and you’re my rival and definitely have to make it to Hokage again so I can beat you…” He trails off, his face as red as the Hokage’s robes, and makes a noise of despair. “Oh gods, I screwed it up, that was supposed to sound cool and I totally failed, Boss, I’m so sorry but you’re so cute like this!”

Naruto is still kind of stuck on the time-travel and save the world parts.

And the cute part. Definitely that.


But that’s definitely Konohamaru, loudly berating himself for being so uncool, and Naruto can’t help but laugh. Konohamaru glances up at him warily, like he’s just waiting for Naruto to take off running, but Naruto just offers him a smile.

“So where do we start?” he asks cheerfully.

Konohamaru’s face screws up like he’s about to cry, jounin or not, and he throws himself across the space between them to slam into Naruto’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and wailing, “Boss is still definitely the coolest!”

There’s heat creeping up Naruto’s cheeks, but he just swallows and ignores it, patting Konohamaru on the head. “Saving the world?” he prompts.

Konohamaru brightens. “I have a list!” he says proudly.

He does indeed have a list. And it starts with tracking down another jinchuuriki and learning how to make friends with the Kyuubi.

Naruto definitely gets the feeling that he’s not going to be bored again for a very long time.

(They leave Jiraiya a note. Naruto almost feels bad for that. But definitely not enough to change his mind.)

close, warm, real. (frank castle)

Originally posted by calif0rnia-lovers

requested by @caryled!! i love my soft boy frankie…

no warnings on this one!!!

tags list: @voidobsession, @twinklyhood, @doct0rstrange!!!

When it rains in New York, it rains. It rains and rains and rains, cold and dismal and windy, and it’s virtually impossible to get anything done. Hell’s Kitchen currently resides under a massive swathe of dark stormclouds, dimming the already dingy streets into complete darkness and drenching everything in icy rain.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Different anon than the one who asked about Iruka and Urahara, but your response got me thinking of just who else in Naruto-verse, besides Oro, has pulled enough shit to deserve the creepy courting rituals of one Mister Hat-and-Clogs, and my evil, broken brain spat (T)Obito at me, so now I'm sharing the pain. Just imagine them though: two overly-strategic, manipulative bastards with a penchant for trolling everybody by masquerading as happy ditzes. (1/4?!)

The cat-and-mouse game between them would be epic and utterly obnoxious to everyone forced to witness it, but Obito without a mask must have a critically weak pokerface and it’d probably take Kisuke no time to tease out that all he needs to break it with a blush is lay the innuendo on thick. That pale Uchiha skin. The rest of the challenge for Urahara is entirely based on managing to contrive excuses to get in Obito’s personal space without him using Kamui to slip away, because I’m of the opinion that every Obi-pairing ever, in any universe, should include touch-starved!Obito eventually getting scooped up and overwhelmed with cuddles. For a side of angst, they’d have to work through Kisuke’s tenuous grasp of scientific ethics when presented with someone with such a fascinating hodgepodge of ridiculous powers, colliding with Obito’s probable PTSD and body-horror from cave time with Madara and Zetsu. :( 

 But since my real OTP is Obito/ANYbody-big-enough-to-cuddle-him, in any universe, eventually Kisuke’s gotta sneak some snuggles. Maybe right after Obito genjutsus the fuck out of Aizen for being another wannabe-god, and it’s the sexiest thing Urahara’s ever seen. Just. If any Naruto character is enough of a karmic mixed-bag  to deserve being affably harrassed and poked at and force-fed sweets by goddamn Urahara Kisuke, isn’t it Obito?

For the record, I hate you muchly and this is now a thing I ship. Whyyyyy. 

Gin knows he’s going to die.

It’s not as if this was ever in question; betraying Aizen isn’t something survivable, and Gin’s been aware of that from the very first. That doesn’t mean he’s going to stop, though.

Rangiku is worth more than that, and so is getting revenge for what was taken from her.

The Hōgyoku pulses in his grip like a heart torn free, and Gin doesn’t think he’s ever hated anything except Aizen himself more.

In the rubble left behind by Kamishini no Yari, something stirs. Gin glances up, muscles winding tight, because of course it wasn’t going to be as easy as snatching the damned thing from Aizen’s chest and beating a retreat; he’s bought himself some breathing room, a calm like the moment before a hurricane hits, and—

The Hōgyoku trembles like it’s going to wink out, and in the same instant a scarred hand closes over Gin’s, all five fingertips glowing incandescent violet.

Gin jerks, startled into flight, but another hand grabs his wrist as his head snaps up. Not Aizen, because he would be dead if it was, but a complete stranger, scarred and grim with eyes like red-and-black pinwheels.

“Seal,” the stranger commands, not so much as looking at Gin, and Gin yelps as a burning heat races across the skin of his abdomen. The Hōgyoku shivers like struck crystal, then winks out of existence, and simultaneously Gin feels it. There’s a rush of heat through his whole body, a tingling awareness that it’s there just beneath the surface, and he collapses to his knees with a gasp.

In the same moment, there’s a scream of pure fury from Aizen, out of sight beyond the rubble, and Gin realizes that the overwhelming pressure of the Hōgyoku on the town around them is entirely gone.

“Sorry,” the stranger says, releasing Gin’s wrist, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “That was the thing all of this is about, right? The perverted bastard’s pet project?”

Well. Gin’s more used to hearing that phrase used to describe him, but in this context he’s going to assume the man means Urahara. “What did ya do?”

“Sealed it,” he says precisely, as if this answers everything. “If the Kyuubi no Kitsune can’t break an Eight Trigrams Seal, neither can that thing. I’m sorry it had to be you I sealed it into, but I was kind of short on options.”

On the list of things Gin truly Does Not Want, having the Hōgyoku sealed inside of him probably ranks up there with kissing Aizen full on the mouth. Still, it’s definitely better than the alternative, and he gets his feet under him with an effort and pushes upright. His shihakusho is already tattered, and he tugs it aside to find dark, heavy lines written across his stomach, a spiral of black ink surrounded by neat characters.

“I don’ think I want ta be a butterfly,” Gin says, a little faintly.

The stranger blinks, clearly startled, and then snorts. “You’re not going to transform. It’s sealed. You can’t use its power, and neither can anyone else.” Apparently dismissing the matter, he turns away, just as a familiar figure staggers around a broken street corner with seething fury in his face.

“You,” Aizen spits, bringing Kyōka Suigetsu up like a threat. “What have you done?”

Despite himself, Gin almost takes a step back. He’s never seen Aizen truly angry, even at the moment of his betrayal, never seen raw shock on his face like this before. It’s…terrifying.

But the stranger just snorts, facing him squarely. His eyes flicker past Aizen’s figure, to where Urahara Kisuke is just stepping down onto the street with narrowed eyes and an unreadable expression, and he smiles.

It’s not a nice expression.

“You’re not the first would-be god I’ve dealt with,” he says flatly. “And compared to the actual god I’ve faced, you don’t even begin to match up.” A step, and the air warps around him like a vortex. He vanishes, winking out of existence, and Gin shifts forward before he can help himself, not entirely sure what he means to do beyond help, and—

Aizen spins, sword slashing through the air, but it passes right through the stranger ass he reappears. Then he’s abruptly solid again, just in time to whirl and kick Aizen in the gut.

A flicker of flash-step and Urahara appears next to Gin, one hand holding his hat in place and a small, quirked smile on his lips. “My, my,” he says, and the tone is light but his eyes are sharp. “It seems our visitor from another dimension has lots of tricks up his sleeve.”

Gin glances at the stranger just in time to see him slam a hand against Aizen’s chest, fingertips glowing again, and Aizen cries out as every last trace of his reiatsu vanishes from the air. “You were keepin’ the kid in reserve?” he asks, because this is definitely not something Aizen knew Urahara had.

It’s hard to tell whether he’s getting more satisfaction from that thought or from watching Aizen get his ass kicked by a man who doesn’t even seem to be trying.

Well. Both, probably. Scratch that, both definitely.

Urahara chuckles, tipping his hat down over his eyes a little more, though his gaze doesn’t leave the rather one-sided fight. Gin had known that Aizen had never excelled at hand-to-hand the way he did at kido, because he’s spent decades learning the bastard’s weaknesses, but even knowing that it’s easy to see the stranger is good, on top of his ability to turn intangible. “No, no. Our cute little visitor didn’t even know about Aizen until a few minutes ago. He must have felt the two of you appearing in the real Karakura and come to find me. Such an adorable tsundere, don’t you think?”

Gin watches the adorable tsundere deliver an uppercut to Aizen’s jaw that audible cracks bone, and refrains from commenting.

There’s no need, anyway; without the Hōgyoku, without his reiatsu, the blow knocks Aizen back on his heels, and a final roundhouse kick catches him in the side of the head. He crumples like a puppet without strings, collapsing into a heap on the ground, and the stranger pulls back, breath still even as if he hadn’t just gone up against a man who practically laid the Gotei 13 to waste.

“Oi, pervert,” he calls, without looking away from Aizen. “You want him gift-wrapped or something?”

Urahara laughs merrily, flash-stepping to the strangers side. “My, my, Obito, you’re certainly thorough.”

Obito turns a dark look on him, though it holds more aggravation than true anger. “I just watched him kick your ass. And Yoruichi’s. Was I supposed to go easy on him?”

“Revenge? For our sakes?” Urahara asks cheerfully, and before Obito can dodge he catches him around the waist and pulls him into what’s either a hug or an octopus’s stranglehold—Gin can’t quite tell. “How sweet of you!”

With a squawk, Obito tries to pry him off, but doesn’t get far. “Let go, you damned creep! Hey! Where do you think you’re putting your hands—hey!”

“Ouch,” Urahara says in mild protest, though his wince isn’t entirely faked. “I’ve already been abused once today, you know.”

Tellingly, Obito stops struggling instantly, practically sinking back into Urahara’s hold. “Idiot,” he says, and there’s more relief than anything in his tone. “You know I would have helped if you had just asked.”

“How was I supposed to know out new freeloader had experience taking out gods?” Urahara protests with something that’s probably supposed to be a pout. “How rude, keeping these things from your lover, Obito.”

“Who’s my lover?” Obito retorts without hesitation. “Stop saying when it’s not even true!”

“But it could be—ow.”

“I changed my mind. Go die,” Obito snarls, shoving Urahara back by the face. “Let me go, you can deal with the butterfly bastard—”


Gin turns quickly, catching a flash of color out of the corner of his eye, and just has time to open his arms before Rangiku plows into him. He huffs, staggering back a step, and feels her hug him impossibly tight for three full seconds. Then she pulls back, expression shading towards fury, and slaps him full across the face.

“You bastard, you knocked me out,” she hisses, though her eyes are distressingly damp. “You can’t just apologize and then disappear, I thought you were going to die!”

“Ah, Ran-chan—”

You were?!”

Rangiku has always been able to read him far too well.

Somehow it’s that thought above all others that makes Gin suddenly realize that—they’re done. Aizen has been beaten, and while Gin won’t relax until the bastard is nothing but ashes, he’s certain Central 46 will take care of that soon enough. The man looks small and pathetic inn defeat, and Gin can’t help but laugh, slumping forward as every muscle goes weak with relief.

Rangiku catches him.

Of course she does.

“It’s over,” he tells her, just in case she missed it.

There’s a long pause, and then a careful kissed pressed to his hair. “It is,” Rangiku agrees. Amusement shades into her tone as she asks, “Their doing?”

Gin doesn’t look to where Urahara and Obito are still bickering, just hums quietly in agreement.

Then, without any warning, a truly massive beacon of reiatsu practically explodes into existence. Gin wrenches around on instinct, shoving Rangiku behind him as he grabs for his zanpakuto, and a figure in black with daylily hair seems to spontaneously appear before them.

There’s a long moment of silence as Kurosaki Ichigo blinks at Gin and Rangiku, at Obito still shoving at Urahara as the exile clings to him, at Aizen unconscious in the dirt. Then, in a tone of utter bewilderment, he says, “What?”

A laugh cracks out of somewhere deep in Gin’s chest. He staggers with the force of his mirth, hanging onto Rangiku to stay upright, and doesn’t stop laughing for a very long time.

It feels better than anything has in almost a hundred years.

Those who are Broken | Chapter Seventeen

Everyone has a soulmate. Except the Broken.

Word count: 3000

↬ I. Am. Ready.

Chapter list

Originally posted by gothdollysedits

“Noona.” You hummed in response, never bothering to look up from your textbook you were reading. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

That caught your attention.

You looked up at him, a confident look on his face as he looked down at you patiently. Waiting for your response.

When you were out with Jungkook and Taehyung several days ago, you told the younger boy to ask you out at a random moment. Guess that random moment would be now.

“Smooth,” you began, closing your book, “but I think you’re just too comfortable with me.” He frowned in confusion. You looked around the area, watching as students walked and talked with one another. Some leaving the academy building while others entered it. Just leaving the building, you saw a girl walking by herself. She looked cute. Black, curly hair that barely touched her shoulders, and the typical uniform all girls wore. You watched her as she pushed her round spectacles back up to the bridge of her nose. “Ask her out,” you told him, pointing to her as she walked around the academy building towards the back.

Jungkook followed your finger, eyes landing on her. His hidden hair turned the familiar champagne color. “I can’t ask her out!” he said, voice sounding a bit frantic.

“And why not?” you asked, propping your elbows on the bench.

“Because I don’t know her, and it’s embarrassing.” He turned to look back at you, his cheeks colored pink.

“That’s the whole point. You need to take a chance. You may have lost your soulmate, but you need to try and live a little—you go here,” you said, gesturing to the school with your hands.

He pouted his lips cutely. “Can’t I take you on an actual date first before I ask another person out? I need help on dating,” he whispered, looking down at the ground as he kicked a rock.

Why the fuck is he using his cute charms on you?

The little shit knew it would get to you.

“Fine,” you groaned.

He beamed, taking a seat across from you at the table. “Where would you like to go? The movies are a typical date—along with dinner. Maybe the beach?” he asked, leaning excitedly forward towards you, hands flat on the table.

“The beach? Isn’t that several hours away from here?”

“Yeah, but it could be a date for an entire day—” He looked behind you, eyes slightly widening before turning to look back at you.

Keep reading

So like… There are so many cute posts/fics of Enj and R and who’s a dog or a cat person etc and I am 100% behind that but also what if one of them had an animal and the other had a genuine phobia of it… Like R has the biggest fluffiest friendliest dog in the world (called Dog because if Audrey Hepburn can call a cat Cat…) but Enjolras is terrified of dogs.

And this wasn’t a problem really. Since Enj rarely went to R’s place and the few times he did it was just to drop something off and R tends to keep Dog in the living room when he answers the door incase he runs out and up onto the street… Or occasionally on Les Amis gatherings but everyone loves Dog so much he can avoid interaction because he’s preoccupied with the others.

Except now they are dating and R is starting to get suspicious that Enj is holding back because he’ll walk R back to his flat but always comes up with a reason not to come in and if he asks him over he’ll find a reason for them to go out to do something instead and it’s beginning to feel like Enj just doesn’t want to be alone with him… Going to Enj’s flat hardly counts since Courf and Combeferre are always around…

And Enj knows he can’t keep this up forever but he’s torn because he knows how much R loves that dog and he doesn’t want to cause a problem or hurt his feelings in some way… He doesn’t hate Dog. He just can’t be around him.

But meanwhile like a million Bad Thoughts are going through R’s head and he’s worried maybe Enj doesn’t really like him/has realised he made a mistake but doesn’t know how to admit it so he’s just keeping what distance he can… And then one day he has the horrible idea that maybe he’s been doing something wrong regarding Enj’s boundaries and that he is afraid to be totally alone because he thinks R would overstep and he flies into a panic wondering what he did wrong and resolving to fix it but not by open communication because these two are both dumb idiots.

Instead he pulls back his physical contact to show he’s completely okay with the no sexual stuff thing.

Except now Enj thinks R is having second thoughts / he did something wrong / R wants to be with someone who’ll give him what Enj can’t.

This goes on for a few weeks until finally Enj hits a point where he can’t take it anymore and he goes to R’s flat completely forgetting Dog.

Dog whom R has not properly secured elsewhere. Dog who smells someone he recognises but barely ever sees and is very excited. Dog who bounds past R as he opens the door and suddenly Enj is halfway down the corridor almost in tears whilst R wrestles his very large very bouncy dog back and looking up at his boyfriends terrified face things make sense.

So finally they talk. Dog is closed off in R’s bedroom with a chew toy and a bone and is perfectly content. They sit in the living room. Grantaire apologises for how he has been acting and explains why and Enjolras is super relieved. Then Enj fully owns up to his crippling fear and how he didn’t want to tell R and have him think he was putting pressure on him because he would never ever ask R to give up Dog. So since R is the kind of person who knows literally everyone he goes to a friend of his who helps people phobias (they worked with Joly over his germ phobia and Joly swears they are magic) and they give him some advice of steps they could take which, with Enj’s consent, they try.

Enj writes down a list of things he’s worried about, and steps he wants to take to try and get over it.  

First things first R imposes new house rules. If Dog jumps, he gets no attention. He makes sure the others are involved too. Dog is thankfully eager to please and a fast learner but it takes a little time so in the meantime… R buys one of those baby gate things for the kitchen because gradual exposure is the best thing for phobia’s. Whenever Enj is coming round Dog goes in the kitchen that way he can still be with them and see them so he doesn’t panic or start barking (which will also scare Enj) because he can tell they’re there but can’t see them, but also Enj knows Dog can’t get to him.

It also means though that Enj has some proximity to Dog without the buffer of their friends and can get used to the idea of being in the same room as him, without being afraid of being jumped on or bitten or whatever. It takes a while but after a few weeks he actually starts greeting Dog when he arrives.

After a little time, a couple of times a week R will sit beside Dog, get a good hold on him and Enj will come into the kitchen and make tea or something. Eventually they get to a point where he feels safe with R just holding Dog’s collar.

They graduate to Enjolras occasionally making Dog his breakfast or dinner because it might help build a relationship to do something specifically for Dog, plus he soon realises that Dog is so interested in the food he basically ignores everything whilst he eats… so R doesn’t have to hold him at all as Enj leaves the kitchen anymore.

They go for a walk all together and R keeps Dog on a super short lead with Enj walking on his other side, til they reach the park. Enj stands on the other side of the fence and watches them play. When Dog finds another dog friend to play with R comes and stands with him.

The first time Enjolras pets Dog, it’s really brief but R swears he can feel Dog vibrate with joy from where he’s got a strong hold on him. Enjolras is still kind of freaking out but also Dog is super fluffy and soft and he looks so pleased that it’s… kind of cute?

Once Dog is well and truly trained not to jump up Enj has reached a point where he can be in the same room with him without the gate. Though if he ever feels overwhelmed the gate is still there and R immediately puts Dog back in the kitchen.

Mostly when he’s in the room with them he seats himself on R’s side of the sofa at his owner’s feet but just occasionally he’ll test the water with Enj. For a while Enj just tries to focus on other things but one day whilst R is making dinner, he’s sat on the sofa and catches those big soulful eyes looking up at him and he steels himself and reaches down to scratch Dog’s ears. Dog is content and pads away to R.

They go on for several months just building up Enj to the point where he can pet Dog with barely any anxiety. When Enj is in the kitchen making his dinner he’s started talking to him, and he can even put the bowl down without R having to hold Dog because he knows Dog won’t move until he moves away and tells him ‘Go’.

He’s still not great with dogs he doesn’t know though he’s noticed even they don’t scare him like they used to. He still gets jumpy if Dog barks particularly loudly at a cat outside or gets a little over excited. But it’s better. He can even take him for short walks around the block where he knows he’s not going to get too excitable and pull the lead.

And the thing is, he likes Dog. Dog is sweet and fluffy and loving and loyal and really not that scary at all. Scratch that. He loves Dog. He actually loves walking into his boyfriends flat and finding him sat good as gold in the middle of the living room, tail wagging, just happy to see them both. He loves watching R play in the park with him, both of them rolling around and coming back to the gate with grass stains and twigs in their hair/fur. He has found that brushing Dog sends him to sleep, so it’s an activity he feels safe and comfortable doing and it helps him bond with him even more.

The day R knows that they’ve been successful is when he comes back home to find his boyfriend lying flat on the sofa with his law books piled around him, and Dog lying across his outstretched legs, both fast asleep, one of Enj’s hands tucked against the side of Dog’s head. He’s just so happy and grateful this all worked out, and that he has this little family to come home to.

Two To Tango (Bucky x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I had the day off today and got the opportunity to work on a request I had gotten a couple of days ago (The whole thing is inspired by these two routines from Dancing with the Stars). I hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary/Anon Request: Imagine being a part of the team and being a dancer on the side and the team comes to support you in an event and everyone is taken aback by the way you move, especially Bucky. But it bothers him that your dresses/costumes all look like lingerie and your very attractive dance partner looks like he’s ready to take you then and there.

Other Characters: The Avengers

Warnings: Fluff, angst?, jealousy, language

Word Count: 1,072

Originally posted by im-peter-peterpan

Keep reading

Better Late than Never

(PART 1) (ao3)

Princess: So hypothetically
If I were looking for an apartment in the Chicago area
Would you know any good neighborhoods?

Bellamy wets his lips and looks around his empty apartment. He’s not sure why. Maybe he’s subconsciously checking for hidden cameras, for Ashton Kutcher to jump out with some sort of ‘gotcha’ moment. Or maybe he’s hoping to find someone who can validate that yes, this string of text messages implies what he thinks it implies, that he’s not imagining it, no matter how long he’s looked forward to such a text from Clarke.

The only other living thing in his apartment is his cat Selina, and as far as he knows she hasn’t mastered the art of human language, so he rereads the texts a few times, then lets his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment before finally replying.

I might have some suggestions, he says, in an attempt to play it cool. But that doesn’t last, because he immediately follows it up with, Is this really a hypothetical?

I like Portland, she types back, and his stomach sinks until she adds, But I’m not cool enough to live here much longer.

He bites his lip, wondering how he can determine whether they’re on the same page.

Last time he thought they were on the same page, she’d shut him down nicely but firmly. After all that went down on the cruise– the fake Facebook wedding, the friendly teasing, the ridiculous scheming, the kiss– he’d been willing to at least try long-distance. He always liked Clarke, those last few days had proven that they got along well, and he knew from experience with O that Skype and plane rides were enough to get by on for a while.

He has to admit, she probably made the right call, telling him she didn’t think she could do it. He was a little bit tipsy, a little bit drunk on sun and her, and as they’ve kept in touch in small ways over the past couple of years, he’s come to realize it might not have worked. It might have been too much pressure on a relationship that was so unested.

They’d agreed maybe one day, and while he always intended to hold her to that if the opportunity presented itself, he hasn’t been pining over her. He remembers her fondly, misses her enough to make sure he keeps up to date on her life, still grins at his phone when she snapchats him selfies with all the weird filters. But he’s dated other people and he knows she has too. It didn’t feel certain that anything would ever happen between them.

But now she’s moving back, and it’s– he doesn’t know what it is. He can’t quite wrap his mind around it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hii! i wanted to ask you for a fic rec in which harry is in like a bad situation? maybe he's abused somehow and louis saves/helps him? something like birds in gilded cages? sort of a harry's louis baby kind of fic, thank youu (and ignore me if this is a request you don't like)

(I don’t know why this is showing up on my main blog, sorry!) Also, I literally just read Birds in Gilded Cages last week! LOVE LOVE LOVE! Reminded me of Club Mad, which has sadly been deleted, but would be perfect on this list that you want! I think I have a good understanding of what you’re looking for, so hopefully you find something you like! And I don’t mind doing doing ANY kind of Fic Rec, honestly! I really enjoy making these!

1. we’ll play hide and seek to turn this around (give me love like never 
    before)  by Wankerville
Words: 19k 

“So here’s the thing,” he starts. “I didn’t mean what I said a few weeks ago to like, hurt your feelings or anything. If you like painting your nails, then you should do that, and not like, care if anyone else doesn’t like it because their opinions shouldn’t matter, you know?” Louis takes a breath, finally glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. On a whim, he adds, “And like, I noticed you scraping it off and you haven’t been wearing any and I think you should because that’s what you like.”
or an au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis’ just trying to figure out whats wrong with him

Part 1 of strawberry milk fic

2. Pretty Boy by iwillpaintasongforlou
Words: 32k

Harry’s been forced into a high-class prostitution ring because his heroin-addicted mother is too strung out to realize that her boyfriend is pimping out her son. Louis is the crown prince of England and gets into a lot of mischief and thinks it’s normal to pay prostitutes to “get a good night’s sleep.” They probably aren’t meant to see each other beyond that one random night, but then again, they probably aren’t meant to see each other at all.

3. The King and I by iwillpaintasongforlou
Words: 43k

Louis -better known as The Rogue- is the legendary King of the Thieves of London, the underground network of criminals who run the city. Zayn is his second in command, Niall is an Irish fugitive with ultra high-tech hacking skills, and Liam is a dirty cop who lets Rogue and his crew get away with just about anything. Harry is Britain’s absolute worst criminal and a professional scapegoat who flees Cheshire in search of good treatment, and just might find it under the wing of London’s regal mastermind.

4. Escape by AngKeats
Words: 47k

“Buddy…you really don’t have to go,” Louis added, making him falter in his step.

Harry took short, frightened breaths into his lungs and turned.

Louis. That was a typical cowboy name. A good strong, male name. A good strong male who could be harmful. A good strong male who could over-power him and hurt him. Something in his kind blue eyes told him he wouldn’t, though. It was strange, being able to read him like that, but it was true. He didn’t want to hurt him. He wanted to help.

The intruder reached for his sleep bag and he clutched it to his chest protectively. His eyes flicked over Louis’ face but he didn’t move to touch him. Louis’ horse- Hunter- gently butted his arm with his nose.

“Hunter seems to have taken a shine to you,” Louis continued as though he hadn’t just chased him halfway down his drive and was still without a name for him. “Why don’t you come up for breakfast?” He invited.

5. i love you more by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck)
Words: 47k

Boys like Harry can’t fall in love. But then he meets Louis. A love story in two parts.

6. Even Angels Have Their Demons by AFangirlFantasy
Words: 50k

Louis is appointed the role of Guardian Angel, and his first mission is a boy named Zayn Malik. Unfortunately, it seems that a certain Demon has gotten to him first.

Or… an Angel/Demon AU where Angel Louis hates Demon Harry, but somewhere along the way that stops being so true.

7. Green Doe Eyes by AngKeats
Words: 51k

“Can I fix you?” Louis asked as Harry looked over at him, eyes wet and red, tip of his nose pink and cute. He licked his plush lips and nodded.

Louis let out a thankful sigh and reached for Harry’s hand, ignoring the way Harry flinched when they touched.

He stripped off the useless bandage and winced at the re-opened wounds. He noticed the blood under Harry’s fingernails and realised he’d scratched at them until they bled.

“Harry…” He whispered, tears coming to his own eyes as he felt Harry tremble under his touch, eyes averted shamefully as he swallowed his tears away determinedly. “No, don’t be scared, it’s okay,” Louis assured. “I’m not going to judge you…I just need to protect you,” he explained.

8. American Rose by justgotowisharder
Words: 53k

“Your voice sounds rosewood when you’re lying.”
“I didn’t lie, Harry.”
“You’re lying right now.”
Louis rolls his eyes, sighing. “Honestly, fuck your synesthesia.”

(The story where Harry hears in colors and Louis’ voice is multicolored. Harry hates his disorder, Louis hates to be gay. Little they know, they’re meant to be)

9. Since I’ve Found You by Rearviewdreamer
Words: 74k

Louis woke up on the morning he was meant to volunteer at the Feed the Homeless program at St. Mary’s church hoping for an opportunity to give back a little to a city that has given him everything he could ever want. Little did he know, there was one more great thing waiting there for him; a boy with radiant green eyes in a weathered jacket and a beat-up backpack slung over his shoulders.

10. Only You by mystic_believexx
Words: 78k

A strict school, a forbidden love and a burning hatred that turns to passion so hot Louis’ in very real danger of getting burnt…

After pulling one prank too many on their high school’s Principal, Louis and Liam get transferred to Stanford Institution, a boarding school with a reputation for handling rebellious teens. Louis’ determined to buckle down and follow the rules so he can come back home as soon as possible but unfortunately for him, his roommate-one Harry Styles- has other plans.

Sometimes things have a funny way of working out…

11. Saving You by AngKeats
Words: 90k

Harry Styles works in a seedy strip club in Las Vegas and uses the big ‘C’ to get through his mediocre existence. Once he’s done dancing he goes home with whoever bids the highest and the lifestyle leaves him feeling empty and alone.

Louis Tomlinson is a successful businessman but hasn’t had the best time with friends and love so he’s become a lonely recluse who puts business before pleasure…until he hears about a guy who looks like a girl and visits a little strip club in the city.

Harry is being bought by Louis not for the night but for good and his testing ways push Louis to the limit…

12. Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou
Words: 110k

Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

13. But Please, Don’t Bite by shyserious
Words: 122k

“Melodic little jingle sounded from a bell hanging over the doorframe and warm indoor air curled heavily around his shivering body for the first time in months. Harry suddenly felt a sting in the corners of his eyes and had to force down a broken sob. Fuck, he was a mess. Such a mess. He had to focus.”


Arthur can’t seem to get over Alfred after their months-long breakup, so he agrees to go to extremities to move on. Pick the right bachelor, though, and he won’t have to move on at all. Usuk, Omegaverse. Parody of The Dating Game.  //

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to One-O-Three-A!”

Arthur fidgeted in the shadows as peppy music overwhelmed the room. He was standing on a stage, his scent spiked with apprehension as he pulled on his sweater. He wrung his hands together as bright lights flicked on, causing him to squint as the music swelled. He was the newest person to appear onto the dating show One-O-Three-A, where he would ask questions to three anonymous Alphas and choose to date the one he liked best.

This hadn’t been his idea, but, his beta friend Francis was tired of him always moping about after a bad date, so he’d taken things to extremities. Nothing seemed to work out after his big breakup with Alfred, and Francis was sick of his self-pity. Arthur shook his head, bringing himself back to reality so he could focus. The host of the show approached him then, a beta with an artificial calming scent. He held out a hand, Arthur taking it after a moment of hesitation.

The beta host took a breath, and then waved enthusiastically at the studio audience.

“Welcome back, welcome,” The host repeated as the audience’s applause gradually faded out. “Now, we’ve already introduced our bachelors, but, our cute little omega here hasn’t got a clue who they are. Now, to introduce him to our alphas-” The music track changed, and the host held up his microphone. A pink spotlight shone over Arthur.

“This is Arthur Kirkland, a twenty-two year old omega who’s an upcoming author in the romance genre. He enjoys making handmade sweaters in his free time and selling them on his online store. And, he can’t stand fast food. A round of applause for Arthur!” The studio audience clapped again, and the host led Arthur to an armchair.

“Now, there are three eligible alphas on the other side of that white wall. There’s a pile of cards to your left, they have questions on them. Just read them to an alpha of your choice, and at the end of the show, pick the best of the bunch.” The host laughed. “None of the questions will pertain to the alpha’s appearance, name, or occupation.”

Keep reading

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.4

Part  F O U R 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 3k+

AN: back again with another part! im so sorry this series is slow due to the notes thing, it’s kinda a bummer aha. ill be more lenient and release them regardless of the note count sometimes. but as usual, lets try n hit 100. also to everyone who is so supportive and reblogging this more than once: ya’ll are the real MVPs aha im so glad you guys like this series :) xx 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 


“I told you that I owed you. I never said when we could talk about it.” 

At the brink of your literacy period, first period, was the infamous blonde with ocean eyes. Luke had sat across from you on the oak wood table, his hands planted nicely on the glossed object. His hair was curly, as usual, with locks of gold shining from the ceiling lights. He was wearing a slightly ripped Blink-182 shirt with the usual black skinny jeans and converse. He stared at you curiously, like he’s never seen you before. 

“But now is a good time, is it not?” Luke asked, a smile forming on his lips as you put your book down to rest and stared at him. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance just staring at the pompous boy before you. 

“It’s way too early, Hemmings,” you began tiredly, a yawn escaping your mouth. “It takes a lot of energy to put up with you at times, and I have little to no energy right now.” 

“Hey man, I forced a paper cut on myself to cover you,” Luke pointed out, showing off his hand. The cut was now covered by a Hello Kitty bandaid, with the cat herself in a nurse outfit. “It’d be nice if you can give me some of the energy when I want it.” 

“Fucks sake,” you muttered, stuffing a piece of paper in the page you left off at and closed your book. “For one thing, I didn’t ask for you to cover for me. Also, of all ways to cover me, why the hell would you give yourself a paper cut?” 

“I covered for you because I know how much you care about your attendance,” Luke said softly, having your expression soften to a more ponderous look. “You never, ever want to be seen as a tardy student, so I respect that greatly and just want to help–” 

“I don’t need your help,” you quickly interjected, but Luke was quick to drop that.

“For the paper cut, I thought it’d be more comical,” Luke said simply, having you shake your head with a small smile. You had to admit: Luke is quite silly, and that makes him fairly endearing. “Can’t lack any chance to be me, ya know?” 

“Of course,” you said simply, still retaining your soft smile for a few brief moments before straightening your lips. “So, about me owing you–” 

“You look really beautiful when you smile like that.” Eh?! You looked up at Luke, seeing him smile fondly at you. His sudden words left you slightly speechless. Blood surged to your cheeks, staring into his ocean blue eyes to see the audacity. 

“Don’t be so candid!” You exclaimed, looking away to allow your embarrassment to slowly dissolve. Luke put his arms up in defense, a smug smile painting his lips as he did. You wanted to punch it right off his face, but you couldn’t. After all, that dude did cover for you willingly. “A-anyways, what do you want?” 

“That’s quite the offer, Y/N,” Luke began, sitting back in his seat while folding his arms together. “I desire a lot of things, but obviously there’s a limit.” 

“Nothing sexual or stupid, alright?” You vaguely specified, having Luke squint his eyes in contemplation. You then watch as he reached down for his bag, shifted a bit inside, and conjured a piece of paper. 


You took the paper and held it up, reading the contents of it. You noticed a list of band names, and beside them, times. There were details of the location, including the venue name and the street number. Blues, reds and blacks were splashed all over it, having your index finger rub down the names as you compared the colors to your skin. 

“We’re having a concert this Saturday,” Luke informed as you continued staring at the paper. He brought his finger to the paper, staring attentively at the page as he pointed to a time. The row of that time held the band name 5 Seconds of Summer. “We’re on at 1 A.M. Michael was handing them out like a maniac the other day. It seems like you didn’t know?” 

“Oh, I did know about the performance,” you said simply, putting the flyer on the desk to begin folding it. “I wasn’t paying attention when the boys came to talk to the girls about it. I was half asleep.” 

“As usual?” 

“Mm.” You filed the paper in your backpack. Luke watched you attentively, his arm bent and leaned against the desk with his head leaning against his forearm. He stared at you, having your heart stop for a brief moment. “What?” You asked, glaring at his obnoxious behavior. 

“So is that a yes that you’re coming?” Luke chimed, his eyes full of hope and anticipation. You let out a sigh, thinking for a moment before slowly nodding. “Wait, like actually?” 

“We can pinkie swear on it,” you began, swallowing harshly as you put your pinkie up. 

“You… you still do that kinda stuff?” Luke commented, his pink, chapped lips parting to stare at you in wander. You found yourself blushing again, really hating the fact that Luke Hemmings was putting you in this flustered position. “That’s damn cute, Y/N.” 

“Just shut up and swear already!” 

Without hesitation, Luke’s pinkie found itself wrapped around yours. You felt the roughness of his skin, the thickness and callouses dancing around your pinkie due to his guitar playing. A few seconds pass and you attempt to let go of his grip, but his pinkie was strongly attached to yours. You stared at Luke, questioning his deal. But he just gazed distantly at you, seeming unaware as to what he was doing. 

“You… can let go now,” you murmured, watching as he quickly reeled his pinkie back and began blushing. You rolled your eyes, curious as to why he was embarrassed. He then quickly placed his hands behind his neck, scratching the nape with his light, blonde locks. 

“Anyways, how did it go with the tree? Did you go?” 

“Oh, yeah I did,” you said simply, feeling your cheeks smudge slightly with blush. You took your book back in your hands, allowing your eyes to fall to it to occupy your sight. You traced the dents worth of the title, feeling the smooth, fake-gold print on it. “It went well, more or less. Didn’t meet the stalker but he left kind words on notes for me. He was the reason you covered for me.” You revealed an accidental soft smile that made Luke widen his eyes a bit. 

“I see this stalker is somehow advancing better than me,” Luke began. You tilted your head up to stare at the boy attentively. He leaned back into the chair and threw his head back. You watch his Adams Apple bob up when gulping. “Ah, he’s making it so difficult…” 

You hadn’t bothered to question his words. Luke was always one to say things that were deemed empty for you. Not that you hadn’t cared, but you didn’t know what he meant and knew he was only going to dodge telling you. But he was acting somewhat annoyed, which doesn’t seem like a trait Luke would own. Mister popular, irresistible, and ecstatic Luke Hemmings isn’t someone to get annoyed, but rather be the one who is annoying. 

“Anyways, where are your boyfriends?” You asked, watching as Luke regained himself and leaned his elbows onto the desk again. His large hands held his head up by the jawline as he began blowing away his curly locks from his eyes. 

“Probably with your girlfriends,” Luke said with a shrug. “Where are your girlfriends?” 

“Probably with your boyfriends,” you mocked, having Luke roll his eyes before chuckling. You then rose, picking up your bag to put it on. “I’m gonna go to Mr. Tanners to reprimand him over bad choice in history study.” 

“But Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue in fourteen hundred ninety two, Y/N!” Luke exclaimed as you picked up the literature on Christopher Columbus’s voyages. 

“He also thought he ‘discovered’ India when he actually ‘discovered’ America,” you hummed annoyingly as you used one of your hands to curl your index and middle fingers when saying discovered. Luke chuckled, watching as you took your leave from the library. 

You were at the cherry tree once more. And this time, with a watch wrapped around your wrist. 

With your legs bend into a pretzel, you seated yourself on the soft grass. Right in front of you was the math textbook you were analyzing. It was open to a page that resided in the 200s with a sandwich on the page (courtesy of Alexis’ mother.) Your bag, in it’s sky blue glory, was sprawled just above the textbook, unzipped and still. Then, in your hands, were the notes of the day. There were only 4, but each one held words of sentiment that made you just a little happy. Just a little. 

Note 1: You look so beautiful today. You were practically radiating. I’ve never seen you smile so much before until now. 

Note 2: I honestly hope it were by my words. Not because I think you have low self-esteem, but because I like seeing your smile. Your lips are perfect, I want to see it to everything. 

Note 3: Stretching out a smile so much that it hurts your cheeks. I want to see them be parted slightly from shocked expressions. I want to see them pucker up together to make mockery of the duck face. I want to see you touch them being touched by your fingers when you read or trapped in some sort of thought. 

You smiled widely at the way your stalker tried so hard to make all his words fit into one piece of paper. His letters were more put in order rather than the messy, barely-legible handwriting he owned. His words were stretched longer by length and shrunk in size in order to fit his words of sentiment. And you honestly appreciated it. 

Note 4: I’ll start telling you stuff about me that not many know. I really adore penguins, I think they’re the cutest, flightless birds ever. Okay, so now that I’ve told you something about me, do you mind telling me something about you? Something I wouldn’t expect?

You smiled widely at this. This boy enjoyed the penguin, even though it was flightless. It really gave you an idea about this boy. He must be someone who doesn’t care if someone lacks in something vital that supposedly labels them. A penguin can be flightless, but they don’t lack in being fantastic caretakers and clever hunters. It made you further your curiosity over this stalker. 

You stuffed the notes in your pocket before looking up at the tangling piece of paper hung from the branch. You got yourself on your feet, feeling grass get stuck on the back of your thighs due to the jean shorts you wore for the day. While you used your hands to brush the green flecks off, you walked towards the note and cautiously opened it. On the top of one of the bends, it read: You can also request anything you’d like that isn’t revealing my identity. 

You thought a lot as you held the note, yanking it kindly to get the sharpie down to the grass. You bent down to pick it up, straightening up once more to hold the note. You nibbled at your lower lip kindly, glancing down at your watch to be weary of the time. You then realized what you wanted but wanted to give away something more personal. Something that would maybe push him to be more personal as well. 

I am a very sad person, stalker dude. I won’t tell you the reason just yet (if we’re lucky enough for a yet) but I will admit that your singing makes me smile. Nobody has ever sung a song to me before, even if it wasn’t to convey feelings for me like a cheesy romance flick. So instead of me coming to the tree tomorrow, maybe you can sing during my English class. Like before.

You had mentally thanked this boy for providing you with one of those thin sharpies, because you hadn’t realized how much you wrote. You subconsciously wrote small due to lack of space. Placing the sharpie on the ground, you lifted your wrist to check the watch. 

Oh fuck! You were urgent to stuff all of your things and put them in the bag, keeping the sandwich in your hand. You began dashing away from the tree, finding Des back at the school ground with an unfamiliar face. And although it was a bit blurry, you can tell Des was fuming as she glared at the boy. 

As you began slower and noticed your pace gaining progress, you noticed this boy was far taller than Des. But then again, who isn’t? His head of hair was chestnut, and in the sun it looks like a lovely kind orange, like one of the inside bark of a tree. His eyes were not too easy to see, but they were a generic set of blue eyes, one incomparable to, for example, Lukes. He was handsome, you give the boy that much, with his simple sharp nose and salmon-colored lips. 

“If you’re annoying my friend, you really should back off now,” you said simply, panting to regain your breath. You dusted yourself off a bit, unsure if you had any more bits of grass stuck on you. “I’m not in the mood to use so much energy on an entity like yourself.” 

“Calm down, Y/N, I haven’t been harassing your girlfriend here,” the boy joked, having you roll your eyes. Des shoved him a bit, receiving more laughter from him as she folded her arms and glared at him. 

“I’m not her girlfriend,” Des muttered, having you smirk at her baby-like behavior. “I ain’t gay–” 

“And dating is a lot of energy,” you continued for her, having Des shove you playfully in response. The boy looked down at the both of you, slightly nodding. “Anyhow, how do you know my name? Have we met before?” 

“Seriously, Y/N?” The boy said, his cheeks developing in pink as he looked down at you. “Y/N, we’ve literally had all the same classes in freshman year. We sat right next to each other that entire year.” You then realized and parted your lips slightly. 

“Oh, Holland,” you began, addressing him by his last name. “Nathan Holland, right?” 

“Right,” Nathan nodded, his blue eyes softening over the fact that you recalled his name. “It’s been a while, no? 3 years in the same school and we haven’t interacted since. How unfortunate, yeah?” 

“It’s not my job to keep up with people I know little to nothing about and can’t be asked to care about,” you said simply as you turned and began walking for the door. “It’s your fault for not trying then, if it personally affects you.” 

“As cold as ever I see,” Nathan attempted with a chuckle, having you blatantly ignore his words as Des clung to your side. Her arm wrapped around yours, having you watch as she glanced back at Nathan following us. “So what’s the deal with you and that tree, Y/N?” 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, Nathan?” Des growled, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she walked you to your classroom. Luckily the halls were still a bit crowded, so you knew you weren’t going to be late. No required rush. You were just a few feet from the doorway of your Anatomy class until the infamous blonde asshole blocked your access. 

“Seriously,” you muttered with a sigh, looking up as Luke gave you a suggestive grin. He looked over at Des and gave her a wave, in which she rolled her eyes but smiled at his stupid, smug look. But then his ocean eyes darkened like a storm when he rose them up to the other tall, lanky boy behind you. 

“Lucas! Buddy! How you doin’?” Nathan played off, a wide smile painted on his lips to flaunt his white teeth. But when you looked at Luke, he was practically fuming. His lips pursed into a straight line, his jawline clenching in disturbance as he stared at the boy offering his hand for a handshake. “Okay then,” Nathan uttered awkwardly, clenching his hand into a fist before dropping it. 

“Go away.” You were a little shocked to hear the cool, super chill Luke Hemmings telling someone to go away. You always figured that guy got along with everyone (and he does). But this one character must be his limit. But why? 

“Calm down, Hemmings. I haven’t made any moves yet,” Nathan began, having Luke scoff before Nathan allowed himself to tilt his head down to you. “It’s nice to finally meet your eyes again, Y/N. See you around?” 

“I suppose,” you responded nonchalantly. With that, Nathan gave you a wink before giving Des and Luke a mere wave. He turned and took his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets before losing himself in the midst of fellow classmates. 

“See you later, babes?” Des caught your attention, nodding at her with a smile before watching her disappear, too. You then turned to see Luke now leaning on one side of the door frame. You walked in, rolling your eyes at the annoying boy as you took your seat. 

“What’s with the attitude?” You asked Luke, audible enough while he trailed you and took his seat beside you. He piled his arms together before lying his head in his arms once more. “Are you hungry again? So much so that you own an attitude?” 

“‘You’re not you when you’re hungry,’“ Luke joked, giving you his usual smile as he closed his eyes. You looked back down at your hands, seeing the two hold onto the plastic-sealed sandwich. You threw it at him, listening as the food slapped his cheek. He sat up and took the wrapped sandwich in his hand. He studied it curiously before looking over to you.

“It’s a homemade BLT, relax,” you said simply, retrieving your materials from your bag as Ms. Lee entered the classroom. You prepared your pens and pencils, with the Bic pen you had stolen only days ago. As you prepare your fresh, new page for notes, you glance over to watch Luke eat the sandwich graciously. He loved it, not even dare hesitating to eat where you left your bites. Luke was hungry, that was evident, but he also ate with some sort of thought. He kept a smile on his face as he did, as if the sandwich was the greatest thing he’s ever had. 

Whether it was because you had gifted it to him or not was beyond you, but for some odd reason, you felt slightly happy that Luke had been eating it contently. 

ahhh im back at it again! please lemme know whatcha think right over here and ill see ya in chapter 5 xx

I was thinking about ffxv handwriting styles like

Noctis who has the ability to write really neatly and nicely, all cursive and powerful strokes like a king is supposed to, but after years of being corrected this usually just means his writing (on anything not politically important) is a big loopy mess. He can sign his name with a flourish like nobody’s business, but on school work he won’t lift his pen off the page. All his letters and sometimes even words are connected. His ink is smeared. It’s something akin to cursive but it’s not. It’s just laziness.

Ignis, whose letters are always perfectly cursive and legible, not because he naturally writes that way but because he practiced and worked really hard for people to think he’s neat and put together. He wants to make a good impression, wants to represent Lucis well, and sloppy handwriting can do a lot of things to your image. He worked really hard for years and it’s almost second nature now. Only in personal notes when he’s tired does he take a page out of Noctis’ book and write a little more lazily.

Gladio can write in cursive like everyone else working for royalty but his normal handwriting is plain, very strong letters. Not quite blocky and definitely not messy. He just knows what he wants to write. His pen always presses hard into the page and the ink is always thick. Straight lines almost always. Very clear letters.

Iris can switch it up. She usually falls back on cute, loopy handwriting, both because it’s pleasing to look at and a little because it’s easier for her to do bubble letters like that. But she can switch it up to writing just like Gladio in a second, all sharp edges and straight lines. Her bubble handwriting has a uniformity to it too, like she writes with a ruler underneath her letters even though there isn’t one there. The Amicitia’s have organization down.

Prompto’s handwriting is partially chicken scratch and somewhat wobbly, like he doesn’t hold the pen quite right. He probably doesn’t. Usually most people can read what he wrote if they look at it for a moment but on bad days even he squints and sometimes can’t tell. His handwriting is always a little slanted. He can write neater if he really tries but that takes extra time and it’s never anything to write (ha) home about. He’s very grateful for computers and typing.

Luna’s handwriting is just like it was seen in-game. She puts a lot of thought into exactly what she wants to say and takes her time. There wasn’t a lot of freedom during those years under lock and key, so she sometimes spent afternoons practicing letter after letter until they all looked exactly how she wanted them to. She practiced with different aesthetics for a while, but at the end she writes how she is expect to. She usually writes small, but she can write larger when she wants too.

Aranea has the worst handwriting of all and it’s a huge secret. She’s not embarrassed about it, but she doesn’t want to advertise that her handwriting is kinda bad either. She signs her name as a scribble usually because it’s easier and she doesn’t want her name on any permanent documents anyway. (Mercenary work is best on the dl, anyway.) When she switches over to search and rescue, she puts a little more effort into it when she has to, but it doesn’t come up as much. She reads just fine, but don’t ask her to ever make a list for you. She says she keeps all the info she needs in her head anyway.

This Car (His Name is Riley)

This is one of my four entries for @buckysmetallicstump‘s Disney Quote Challenge. My prompt for this entry was #21 “Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!” - Mike, Monsters Inc. Quote will be in bold.

Song Inspiration for the Series: “This Car” by Cassadee Pope. 

Summary: You, Dean, and Baby have made a lot of memories together.

Word Count: 1300-ish

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: This is actually going to be a part of my new “This Car” Series. It’s not so much a continuous series as it is a bunch of one shots set in the same storyline. Parts will jump back in forth in time as I post them but when I organize them into an actual Master List I will be listing them in chronological order. Tags at the bottom.

You eyed the impala from the entryway of the shelter, watching as Dean intently flipped through the pages of some book in the driver’s seat. Apparently, it hadn’t taken him as long as you thought it would to find the information you needed at the library.

You looked down at your new friend to find him happily staring back at you and you couldn’t help but smile, crouching down so you were on his level.  

“Well Riley, looks like we are going to be meeting Dean a little sooner than expected. He’s a little scary at first but don’t worry, he’s really just a big teddy bear. Just let me do the talking and we should be fine.”

You leaned forward, kissing the side of his face obnoxiously before standing to your full height and leading him out of the building. Dean was so absorbed in whatever lore he was reading that he didn’t notice you approaching, but you kept your eyes on him just in case. By the time you reached the back door of the impala Dean still had yet to notice you, and you stole another look down at Riley. His excitement was contagious and you once again found yourself smiling as all your nerves slipped away. 

You threw the back door open and Dean turned, flashing you a smile from behind the glass when he saw it was only you. In that same moment, as Dean turned left to look at you, Riley jumped into the back seat slipping right under Dean’s radar. But once he spotted the man in the front seat all of his stealth slipped away, and the German Shepard began attacking Dean’s neck with kisses.

“What the hell?!”

Keep reading

Cat Boy Pt 2 // Nakamoto Yuta

Pt 1

prompt: cat boy part two

words: 1309

category: fluff

author note: it’s always really sweet when people come into your ask box telling you how much they liked stories that you weren’t even really invested in. so this a lil thank you for liking a story i didn’t think was a favorite~ it’s just flirty and cute yuta and y/n~

- destinee

Originally posted by nakamotens


The cafe near your shop was cozy and seemingly filled with a strange foreboding feeling. Yuta didn’t visit often, but every time he did, he felt a strange sense of discomfort. The entire cafe was made out of wood, stacked half-hazardly to give it the look of an old cottage. The few windows they had were imbedded into the walls, and dark curtains blocked the natural light of the sun from entering.

There were strange ambiances around. For instance, the flower pots on the windowsill and tables weren’t flower pots at all. Instead, they were faux human skulls, filled with pansies and petunias. There were Stephen King quotes scratched into the walls. Yuta wasn’t sure what aesthetic the owners were going for, but if creepy and disturbing were it, they were doing well.

The coffee was good. Yuta got his coffee black, with two sugar cubes that sank to the bottom. No matter how much he stirred with the little spoon he was given, the sugar never seemed to dissolve. It was just as well: Yuta wasn’t sure sweet coffee would suit the taste of his surroundings.

He was beginning to wonder just what kind of date he agreed to. Were you as creepy as the cafe? You seemed sweet, and Yuta found himself greatly attracted to you. He just didn’t want to get himself involved with any weird satanic rituals or whatever it was that gave you your mysterious powers.

His worry seemed to ebb away slightly when you entered, your hands casually residing in your coat pockets. Yuta watched you smile as you ordered a drink. While you waited for them to brew it, you caught his eyes and waved brightly.

Soon you had a drink in your hand and were sitting across from him with a relived chuckled exiting your mouth. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Yuta shrugged casually, “I wanted to see you again.”

You looked down at your coffee with blushed cheeks. “Me too.”

“Just one question,” Yuta prompted, leaning in to meet your gaze across the table. “How do you have your… powers? Are they evil?”

You giggled. “I’m a witch. Technically, a wizard. I was born with magic, and so I use it to sell little charms and things to non-magical people. Any charm I use is temporary, unless my customer is an actual wizard and knows what they’re getting into.”

“Like the cat ears?” Yuta asked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled in embarrassment. “Those are permanent without a reversal charm.”

“So, you aren’t in a cult or anything?” Yuta asked.

“No, Yuta. I swear I’m not in a cult and I’m not dangerous. It’s just a bit of harmless magic.” You smiled at him as you teasingly continued, “Although, I could be charming you to believe me, and you would never know. I could slip a love potion into your coffee without you even realizing.”

Yuta’s eyes widened for a second before he realized you were joking. Then he kicked you gently under the table. “Don’t play like that!”

You giggled, “You’re really cute when you’re frightened. You’re eyes get really big. It’s almost as cute as you were as a cat.”

Yuta narrowed his eyes. “I threw up a hairball last night, by the way. It freaked Taeyong out real bad and Ten threw a wooden cross at me, screaming.”

“Your friends sound hilarious,” you mentioned. “I bet they would be afraid of me.”

“Probably,” Yuta agreed. “Except Mark. He seems to know you already.”

“Mark Lee?” Your lips pulled into a smile, “He comes in all the time. He buys dreamcatchers.”

Yuta rose his eyebrows. “No way. Are there any other members that come and buy weird things? Here, let me tell you their names.”

After he listed an entire legion of boys’ names, you laughed. “Well Hansol comes in and makes a lot of wishes into the wishing well I have in my shop. Taeil buys a lot of wierd charms. I can’t keep up with all of them but he probably has so many different auras around him that none of them work.”

Yuta laughed and covered his hand with his mouth. “This is great. How much do I have to pay you to accidentally give them the wrong item?”

You tapped your chin in thought, “You know, I have this dreamcatcher that actually gives you really weird dreams instead of catching nightmares.”

“What kind of weird dreams?”

“Well you know the movie Madagascar? When the lion gets a tranquilizer dart to the butt and started hallucinating with the weird colors and the candy man song in the background? That’s the dream.”

Yuta snorted. “Please be my girlfriend.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Although, I’ve never had a boyfriend before so I’m not really sure how these things work.”

“We stay exactly like we are now,” Yuta explained. Then he held up his pointer finger, “Except we get to kiss.”

“Kiss?” You looked at his lips briefly before looking away. “That is way too intimate.”

Yuta found your innocence endearing. “Then let’s start out by holding hands. Then, let me know when you’re ready and I’ll kiss you.”

“What if you aren’t ready?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m always ready to kiss a pretty girl like you.”

You scoffed. “You’re not going to kiss me with grease like that coming out of your mouth.”

Yuta held his hand over his heart dramatically, “Wow. My best one-liner and it’s shot down by a girl who turns people into cats.”

“I’ll do it again if you don’t stop teasing me,” you threatened.

Yuta only laughed. “I’m not afraid of you.”

You rolled your eyes and lifted your fingers up, snapping them in front of Yuta’s eyes.

His eyes widened. “What did you do?” His hand went up to his hair, running his hand through the brown tufts in search of any furry ears that shouldn’t be there. When he found nothing, he grabbed his cellphone and checked himself in the front camera. “I can’t see anything. Is it internal? Am I going to start throwing up bubbles? Or will frogs come out of my mouth when I hiccup? Please, Y/n, our comeback is soon and I can’t have confetti shooting out of my ears every time I hit a high note.”

“If you get any lines, that is,” you said.

Yuta glared at you. “That was low, Y/n. That was far too low.”

“I’m sorry. I sincerely hope you get to sing more.”

“Good,” Yuta looked satisfied. “Now fix what you did to me!”

“I didn’t do anything, you idiot. I just snapped my fingers. Now I know that you were lying when you said you weren’t afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,“ he insisted. “I’m afraid of whatever charms and spells are hiding in that clever little head of yours.”

“I’ll never tell you, so you had better be nice to me,” you taunted.

The coffee had been long forgotten, left to cool as the two of you kept talking. Occasionally, either one of you would forget and go to drink it, only to wrinkle your nose in surprise when the cold liquid touched your lips.

Yuta had just done this, and was pushing his mug away from him as he addressed you, “So are the owners here wizards like you? Or are they just creepy?”

“They’re just creepy,” you answered, eyeing the disturbing quotes etched into the walls. “Also, very tacky. I’ve got some real skulls at my place that would fit this concept a lot better than these cheap Halloween decorations.”

Yuta blanched. “You really have real skulls in your shop?”

“No,” you giggled, especially after seeing Yuta’s frightened face. “It’s just really fun to tease you.”

Yuta pointed his finger at you. “You… you…”

“What is it, Yuta? Cat’s got your tongue?”

~the end~

Fixed - final part

Fixed - part 2/2 | Jack Maynard | Imagine
Word count: 2986
Request: Can you write an imagine where you and Jack have a tickle fight? | Can you do a jack one?
A/N: This imagine is inspired by Fixed by New Hope Club! Thank you for those whom asked me this! I loved write this one, so if you have something in mind about Jack, be my guest: requests are open! If you don’t remember the first part, let me refresh your memory in here! Bye bye sweeties! See you soon!
You can find my other Buttercream Squad stuff in here | Requests are open


        “Conor…” You started speaking to the phone.

        “Hi, Y/N!” He picked up. “How are you?”

        “Fine. You?”


        You bit your lip, hesitating. “Ok, so, please, don’t freak out, but I…”

        “Kissed my brother?”

        “Hum… Yes?”

        “Yeah, Jack told me.”

        “Oh, the bastard! I wanted to tell you myself.”

        “So… Are you ok?”

        “Yes.” You knew Conor were only asking because the last thing he wanted was stay between you and Jack or, worst, have to choose one of you. “We are not serious or anything. I mean, fine, we spent the night together and, oh boy, he doesn’t have the reputation he has out of nothing, you know…”

        “Y/N, you’re still talking about my brother, please, stop.”

        You laughed. “We are fine, Con.”

        “Great then. I’m really happy for both of you. I mean, Jack is a player and you are one too. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

        “We won’t.” You assured.


        “So…” Jack started saying, sat on the sofa by your side.

        It was Saturday. Jack arrived at your place by morning and you decided to watch a film after lunch.

        “So…?” You encouraged him to continue, not really paying attention in what he was about to say because you were watching the movie.

        “You met Andrew yesterday.” He pointed out.

        “Yes.” You smiled, seeing where the conversation was going.

        “And how it went?”

        “Since when are you interested on my love life?”

        “Since you decided to kiss dickheads.”

        “I don’t kiss dickheads, moron.” You pushed him softly. “I mean, I kissed you, didn’t I?”

        “Yeah.” Jack gave a smirk. “But, first: I don’t throw up if I’m insecure; Second: I’m a great kisser.”

        You laughed. “I don’t know… Andrew is a pretty good kisser too…” You teased.

        Jack looked at you astonished. “What?” He turned his body to you, not starring the TV anymore. “Are you saying I am not the best kiss you had on your entire life?”

      “You are so convinced of yourself.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only kidding.

      “Oh, am I?” Jack asked, approaching you.

      You started giggling. “Yes…”

      “You just love to play with fire, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked, his hands getting closer to your body.

      You were laughing as if Jack were already tickling you. “Jack…”

      He started tickling you for real, you couldn’t breathe.

      “Say who was your best kiss, Y/N.” He ordered.

      “No!” You exclaimed, laying down on the sofa with Jack on top of you.

      “You don’t want to admit it to me? Fine. I will just continue to tickle you then.”

      “Jack!” You whined.

      “Say, Y/N.”

      “Ok, ok! I’ll say it, I’ll say it.”

      He stopped and you smirked.

      “Say…” He suggested.

      “I will! But…”

      “I will start tickling you again, Y/N.” He threatened.

      “No!” You protested laughing. “I will say you are the best at kissing, however I’m not sure of it.” You smiled your flirty smile. “I think I need a test proof.” You argued and Jack responded to your actions by bending down.

      “You think so?” He teased when his lips were almost touching yours.

      “Yes.” You told.

      Without a shadow of a doubt Jack was the best kisser ever. The way he moved had the right precision and the right speed and, when he bit your lips, he almost drove you insane. This kiss thought wasn’t for real. It took all your strength to concentrate and move your hands to fit your original purpose: In the middle of the kiss, you started tickling Jack.

      “Y/N!” He complained while laughing and getting out of the sofa. “You play dirty!”

      You couldn’t stop laughing. “You should know that by now.” You teased with a wink.

      “We need to have a little chat, young lady.” Jack declared, turning the TV off.

      “We need?”

      “Yes, we do.” He affirmed. “A little chat on your bedroom.”

      You gasped. “Jack!”

      “Come on, on your way.” He started lift you up. “We have some business to solve.” He told and started tickling you again while carried you through the apartment.


      Jack was kissing a random girl on one corner of the club. The music was loud and there was one of the only places that were empty enough to fit both of them.

      “Yeah, not quite like that, love.” He said, pushing the girl away. “You need to…” Grab my hair, scratch my back, move your hips. That was how Jack would be addicted to a kiss, that was how he would be crawling for more, that was how… His eyes glimpsed you on the dance floor. That was how you kissed him. And drove him crazy. “Excuse me.” He asked before walking away and letting the girl alone.

      Your hair flew everywhere and you had a wide smile on your face, after all it was your favorite song playing at the club. You always loved when the right music came out, it gave you confidence and you would be even more excited than you normally was. When it was your music through the speakers, you could have the whole crowd staring at you that you wouldn’t even care.

      Jack went to you, interrupting your dance moves. Without saying a single word, he pulled you to him and gave you a kiss, a profound one, not only catching you by surprise because of the moment but also because of the intensity. He proved that sweet naughty kiss only you could give, the one he missed if he didn’t taste it every day.

      “What was that for?” You asked laughing when you finished kissing.

      He was looking at you, noticing how your eyes shinned. “I don’t know.”


      “When will you give up in going out with him?” Jack asked you with an arm around your shoulder.

      You were at the supermarket doing your food shopping for the week. Jack was at your place and agreed to go with you.

      “Stop being against Andrew.” You asked while you were choosing what type of bread you wanted. “He is a really nice guy, you know.”

      “What I know is that he throws up more than the average people.” Jack teased.

      “Oh my God, when you will give up remembering this?” You complained, putting the package on your basket and walking through the shop.

      “Maybe when you admit to yourself he is just a route mistake you made.”

      “What if he is the one for me?” You asked going to pay your stuff.

      “He isn’t.” Jack said.

      “How can you be so sure of that?” You raised an eyebrow and putted your shops on the bags, Jack helped you carry those.

      “Well, if he is the one for you, why you keep liking going to clubs and being with other people?”

      “We agreed we would take things easy, Jack.” You told going out of the supermarket and walking through the street. “I am fine with the things now and he is too. We don’t need to rush.”

      “That’s what I’m saying, Y/N.” He pointed out. “If he is the one, you shouldn’t want to be with anyone else besides him and, let’s face it, you and me make out more than you and him.”

      You laughed. “So what are you suggesting? That you are my true love?”

      “Who knows? Maybe I am”

      You rolled your eyes. “You go out with more girls in one week than I go out with boys in one month, Maynard.”

      “Yeah…” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s quite boring wait for you to realize I’m the only one, Y/N. You’re quite slow, you know?”

      “Yeah, ok, Jack.”

The fact: Last week

        You were craving for a cupcake after seeing Zoella’s Insta story. She was having a lovely lunch and had a marvelous dessert, so you decided go get one for yourself before losing your mind.

      You and Jack now were boyfriend and girlfriend, though only the close friends knew that. It was a bit hard date a youtuber and with everything going on in your lives, like his channel growing and you having your college stuff, you didn’t want any pressure about having a relationship open to the public eye.

        “Y/N! You heard someone calling you and looked around the shop, trying to discover who the source of it was. “Over here!”

        You were about to pay your order, Brittany, an old friend, was sit on a table on the other side of the place. You waved at her and she went towards you.

        “Hey, Britt.” You smiled to her.

        “Hey girl! How are you?”

        “Fine.” You thanked the employee that was charging your order. “What about you? I saw you went to Spain last week.”

        “Yes, I went!” She smiled. “It was amazing! I’m starting to have a thing for that country. I know it’s my philosophy never go to a place twice until I complete my wish list, but it was so pretty in there!” You laughed at her enthusiasm, was really cute.

        “It seemed really nice. I loved your pictures on Instagram.”

        “But, girl! This is not about me! I mean, yeah, I went traveling and it was amazing, but I heard you are dating Jack Maynard! Is it true?”

        You blushed. “Yeah, we are kind of hanging out together…”

        “Are you crazy or something?” She asked. “You two look adorable, I get it, but you know how that worked out to Shelly.”

        You felt like Britt has just punched you on your stomach. Shelly was Jack’s ex girlfriend. You met Jack when they were broke up already and you never really thought about it.

        “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Britt apologized. A little late for that now, love. “I really think you two make a beautiful couple, Y/N.” She took your hand into hers. “I’m worried because I think you deserve more than a cheater.”

      You knew Britt considered cheaters the worst specie on the planet, she was cheated once and never wished that for anybody else. You knew that she was only saying that because she was in fact afraid of you getting hurt.

      What Britt didn’t knew though, was that you never thought about Jack being a cheater. You forgot it. You knew he was, but you completely disassociated him from that image. Now, it hit you.

      “That’s fine.” You forced a smile and took the cupcake you ordered. “I gotta go now, but I see you around, right?”

      “Text me if you need anything, Y/N.” She asked, realizing the mess she made. “I’m really sorry.”

      “It was good, Britt.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I just needed a little remind of one of the reasons why I avoid Jack Maynard at the first place.”


        You sighed, finally sitting on your sofa. You were really tired of thinking about that subject by yourself. It was burning your mind, corroding your thoughts, eating you inside out.

      You always knew Jack wasn’t the type of settle down. He went to a club, kissed a few girls on the same night, and then chose one to go home. You were alright with this fact, after all, you hooked up with a considerable amount of people at the same night too… But you never cheated.

      Cheating was something you always felt it would be horrible to do. It was something worst than a heartbreak, it was humiliating. Not only the person who promised to be faithful to you had broken this vow, but he/she chose to kiss another, thinking he/she was better than you.

      You get that the feeling of cheating should be amazing. Being with someone while having another waiting for you? It sounded really powerful and seductive. However, how you could handle the guilt afterwards? How could you look at your boyfriend/girlfriend knowing you did that to him/her?

      And, you couldn’t argue: Everybody knew your boyfriend was a cheater.

      Jack sat next to you.

      “I don’t want to be the insecure girlfriend who doesn’t let her boyfriend have night outs or stuff like that. I’m fine with you going out with the boys and everything, but honestly? I can’t say I’m not worried. I love you, but since last week, I have trouble sleeping.” You admitted.

      “Why since last week? I didn’t even go out last week.”

      You bit your lip. “Okay. I might have met Britt and she remembered me about Shelly.” You confessed.

      It was Jack’s turn to sigh. “I knew it.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I knew something triggered you.”

      “But it doesn’t matter, Jack!” You exclaimed. “You don’t understand? I sincerely don’t know how to deal with it.”

      “What are you trying to say? Do you want to break up?” He asked, looking at you afraid of the answer.

      “The last thing I want to do is break up with you, however it’s not because of it I won’t. I won’t wait for you to get sick of me and throw me away.”

      “Y/N…” He exhaled. “I will never get sick of you.”

      “How can you say that? How can you be sure of it? I doubt you didn’t like Shelly before you went sleep with other.”

      “It wasn’t like this.” He defended himself.

      “But you cheated her anyway, Jack.” You could feel the pain throbbing in your heart. “I love you, but I can’t handle this, babe.”

      He took a deep breath. He needed to say something because he felt you slipping through his fingers and he would never forgive himself if he let you go away just this easy.

      “Y/N, look.” He said, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes. You were almost crying when saw that beautiful pair of jewels staring at you. “I won’t lie to you, ok?” Your heart started racing. “I am not good at relationships. I probably will forget our date anniversary and eventually gonna say something I won’t think about and hurt you and be stupid and stuff like that. But honestly? I won’t cheat at you.”


      “I know you and me seems something that came out of nothing for you, that we were really casual and, suddenly, we weren’t. But for me, it wasn’t like this that things happened.” He told you. “It started really calm, really quiet. I flirted with you for the first time and you blushed, something that I found really cute. Then I was noticing how beautiful you are every time you would hang with Conor and we started talking about the most silly things like ‘I hope the club won’t be crowded’ and shit like that when we met because we didn’t know each other.” He gave a soft smile when the memories invaded his mind and then again he was serious as you two were on the edge.

      “When I started flirting for real, you showed me that you weren’t an only-blush girl: You shutted me down every single time because you thought it was nothing, that I was doing that just because I wanted to bang you. And let me be honest with you now: I only wanted to bang you really.” You let a little laugh escape and he smile from seeing you better, a little relief coming to his heart. “But you didn’t let me, because you were worried about how it would affect you friendship with my brother and, in the extent to which our conversations evolved, my heart would race a little more when you showed up.” You felt your feelings squash inside you. “Since our first kiss I knew something would be different. I didn’t know what exactly, but it would. It felt so… Real.”

      “I was chilled about how things were, even with the Andrew guy around.” You rolled your eyes, Jack couldn’t let Andrew go. “Don’t roll your eyes to me, okay? It’s real. You never saw me in that state. Honestly, I don’t want to go back for that either. Not because I would get more drunk than ever or because I would be with any girl that showed up, but because it would mean we would break up and it is something I never, never, want to do, Y/N.” Your heart broke seeing him say that in that way, it was something that you never knew Jack felt and never knew he was able to feel.

      “You have your doubts, I get it. You can call me a dick if you want to, Y/N,  but I didn’t even care about Shelly. I thought I liked her, but now I know I didn’t and I’m fucking in love with you, Y/N.” You felt your breath escape through your lips. “It isn’t something I was looking for, I admit it too, but it happened and now I don’t know how I would work things out in my life without you. You put everything in balance.” He caressed your cheek. “I know words are only words and it is not much however I need you to trust me when I say that I won’t cheat on you.”

      His blue eyes were staring at you with such intensity, as if his whole soul was depending of your answer. He looked anxious and scared, but also relieved. You didn’t have doubts at all in that moment.

      “Why you didn’t tell me this before?”

      “I thought it was quite obvious.” Jack said, turning shy.

      “Silly.” You hugged him, finally crying. “I’m sorry, I was such an ass in the past week. I didn’t want to though.”

      “That’s alright, babe.”

      “I love you. I’m so afraid of you breaking me. I’m not sure I will be able to recover if you break me.” You confessed.

      “You won’t need to.” He promised, holding you tight.

      “Thank you.” You said breaking the hug.

      Jack smirked exactly how he did before kissing you for the first time: “You’re welcome.”

Playlist Problems

A/N: Here have a ridiculous, random Bucky drabble I wrote a million months ago to make @actuallyasgardian and myself giggle, I never had any intentions on posting it, but here we are…


“Hey guys…Uh, Y/N?”

Bucky had just walked into the kitchen, joining you and Sam. He was holding a pair of headphones in one hand and his phone in the other. Sam ignored him for the most part, tilting his head slightly in way of a greeting.

“Hey Buck, what’s up?”

“Well, I listened to that music thing you gave me.”

Giggling you corrected him, “The playlist?”

“Yeah that,” he gave you a shy smile and raised his right arm to scratch the back of his head. That disgustingly cute nervous habit of his. “Well anyway, I guess I didn’t really like it? Do you think you could make me a new one? I still want to listen to more…maybe just a little different?”

You needed every part of your training to keep a straight face. He was being so sincere and sweet you didn’t want to laugh in his face.

“Hmmm, ok sure. I’ll see what I can come up with. No problem.”

After thanking you and grabbing a bottle of water he left. You waited a few seconds before your composure broke.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you and asked, “What the hell was that all about?”

It took a minute to calm down, but when your laughter settled enough you answered him.

“So the other day, we were talking and Bucky had mentioned Steve telling him you gave him a bunch of music to catch up on. I guess Steve really liked most of it, and he suggested Bucky do the same. Obviously he wasn’t going to go to you, so he asked me to make one for him.”

“Oooook but that doesn’t really make sense, Y/N you have great taste in music.”

“So so true Sam. I couldn’t resist a little prank though…” trailing off you couldn’t help but smile again when you thought about the songs on the list. Grabbing your own phone you pulled up the playlist and slid it to Sam so he could see.

“Jesus girl. This is borderline cruel.”

“Hey! Some of those are classics. I stand by each and every one. I listen to that playlist all the time.”

“Mmmhmm,” without looking back to you he kept scrolling. “Classics. I can’t see why a man whose last full memory of music involved a big band wouldn’t like let’s see: Candy, Wannabe, C’Est la Vie - I don’t even want to know what that is - Independent Women, Too Close? I Wanna Be Bad? Liquid Dreams? What in the hell kind of freaky kid were you?”

Snatching your phone out of his hands you started walking out of the room, “Classics Sam. Classics. You might not be super soldier old, but you’re older than me.”

Keep reading

Behind The Setting Sun

Notes: Fake title prompt by the lovely allthesejimonfeelsSoulmates AU, canon compliant till like 2x05

Work Text:


Another eight hours were just tacked onto Jace’s timer, and he swears that the numbers are poking fun at him—Or he’s just a fucking idiot for taking even longer to realize who his soulmate is. (Surely it can’t be that hard.)

“You really need to stop staring daggers into that thing, And actually practice throwing some,” Alec tosses aside the Seraph blade he had just been training with, sweeping the back of his hand across where his hair has begun matting to his sweaty forehead. “It’s not as if those things are actually clairvoyant enough to predict the future. You know what mom says.”

“Yeah, yeah, only the weakest of shadowhunters actually pay any mind to these contraptions,” Jace parrots the words Maryse would always chide whenever catching one of her children boggling the small, cylinder screens embedded into their forearms. (If it were up to her there is no doubt in Jace’s mind that she would’ve had the clocks surgically removed long ago—Just like she had done with her own, years before she met Robert—But luckily for them one could not have the life altering procedure prior to their twenty first birthday. And even the Clave has it’s limits.)

“Come on Alec, I know you don’t believe in Maryse’s cynicism—Or else you’d have the surgery date bolded in that little planner you keep in your pocket. Probably embellished with a bunch of little doodles like the balloons you put around mine and Izzy’s birthdays.

Jace doesn’t know whether the flush coloring his brother’s cheeks is a result of being called out for his romanticized daydreams (A far call from the whole stoic Nephilim leader thing he’s got going for him,) or because Jace goads him about the fact that Alec is such a nerd. But he doesn’t have much time to contemplate on account of Alec lodging a knife into the wall that Jace is leaning against—Aiming it so closely that it nips his ear.

“Alec bro!”

“You should’ve been able to dodge that. NO way in hell am I gonna be Parabatai with someone who can’t even perform something so simple that Max would’ve been able to do it.”

“You know your a real asshole Lightwood,” Jace gripes with a glower.

The smirk Alec tosses his way exudes way to much smugness than what should be warranted.



Jace meets Clary Fray and he thinks that all the plants aline.

She’s all bubblegum smiles, and kind words, and she has a loyalty to that infuriating mundane that can only be rivaled by his willingness to do anything and everything for his siblings. And when they kiss, it’s all sunsets, and sparkling rainbows, and all the other idiotic fairytale tropes that his father never indulged him with. “Happily ever afters are for the feeble minded Jonathan..”

But when he excitedly looks down at his arm after their first amorous moment, Jace’s features twist up in shock at the numbers yet glaring tauntingly at him. Haha haha you thought it would be that easy.


Jace is sure that his clock is fucked up—It’s malfunctioned or something because it just keeps on going (For fucks sake it’s adding hours,) even after he’s sure that Clary is it for him.

The clock is broken, there is no other explanation.

But Jace doesn’t end up demanding it be torn out—Just opts to tuck it away from sight. And if someone were to ask why he bothers to keep a dysfunctional soulmate timer—Well he doesn’t really have an answer for them.

That is until Valentine fucking twists everything he has ever known with a few simple words, “My children.” And it’s like the ground has been slipped right from under his feet and his stomach plummeted to the deepest chasm of Tartarus.

Because Clary is not his soulmate—And Jace supposes that he’s always kind of known—But it still hurts like nothing else.


Jace get’s captured, beaten, and ambushed about a half dozen times in a matter of days. And then he unceremoniously finds out about his birth mother’s death—Suffice it to say that he doesn’t have much time at all to contemplate his issues with this whole, “Realizing who your soulmate is timeline.”

That is until he finds refuge in his parabatai’s boyfriend’s loft, and spends all the god damn day walking in on them kissing, or holding hands, or even just murmuring to each other as if they were the only people on the planet, just like the love sick fools that they are. And honestly, Jace is over the moon happy with seeing Alec finally tasting the joy he—Who is indisputably the greatest and truest man he has ever known—has always deserved. And Jace is really coming to love Magnus as a brother, especially when seeing how he could bring that kind of blissful ease to Jace’s other half.

But he’d be lying if it didn’t sting just slightly when he spots the screen on his brother’s wrist while in the mist of a workout that Alec still insist he takes part of.

“You’re a Shadowhunter Jace, a Lightwood at that, so it means you’re one of the best. Nothing Aldertree can say will ever alter that, so we really don’t need you getting rusty For when we infiltrate Valentine.”


It’s like the wind has just been knocked out of him, seeing the blasé way that Alec regards the clock in—Not even bothering to tell Jace—As if it were merely thoughtless fodder to idly bring up when conversation has run dry, and not the singular most important event to happen to one’s life. As if he, Jace, and Izzy had not spent their entire childhoods daftly stringing together the ideals of what their future partner would radiate.

“Yo Alec—When’d that happen,” he waves towards the most recent development before parrying a thrashing of Alec’s sore.

“Oh that—Yeah I’m pretty sure it happened right after me and Magnus’s first date.”

Jace raises a incredulous brow. “And you didn’t tell us why?”

“Dunno?” He shrugs before quite literally sweeping Jace’s legs out from under him with a thud. “I really didn’t notice since last night.”

“Man,” Jace perches himself onto his elbows, so that he is looking up at Alec hovering above him—An effortless calm found in the small, serene smile playing on the edges of his lips, and his shoulder’s looking lighter than they’ve been since they were children. As if Alec has found his center.

“How did you not notice it right away?”

“I already kinda knew that Magnus and I had some kind of innate connection—I never really felt the need to immediately check my clock to confirm it


Keep reading

“Keep calm, sweetheart, and let’s kill a minotaur.”

Imagine: Sam and Dean calling you every time they need help in a case.

Imagine: Sam and Dean are amazed by your hunting skills.

So those two are very similar, and I decided to do this story with both… I don’t know how to explain myself but I swear it’s good.



Pairings: None (sorry)

Warnings: Maybe strong lenguage, grafic violence.

Word count: 228

A/N: I love writting about this too much. Actually I’m writting a novel about things like this and well… I had a lot of fun. YASS GIRL POWER

I used izzy for the gifs bc she’s so badass and I love her so much <3

SUMMARY: The reader is a hunter and she’s called by Sam and Dean to help them in a case that involve a minotaur. She’s the only one that can help them to kill it.

Y/N was a well-known huntress, she had a reputation of being a badass and no one wanted to work with her more time than the needed, pretty much because no one knew how to handle her. And she was proud of her reputation because she was one of the best hunters in the country, even better than a lot of men.

You met the Winchester brothers in a small town, at first you didn’t know they were hunters, you saw them as a potential threat to your case, so you almost eliminate them from the face this Earth.

Keep reading