keep calm and love this man

Alright as much as I adore Yuuri and Victor being ridiculously in love and basically joined at the hip, I also love the idea of Yuuri, introvert that he is, just needing to be alone sometimes. After all, no matter how much you love someone with all your heart - a friend, a partner, a sibling - if you spend every waking hour of every waking day with them, that can be exhausting. They sleep together, train together, eat together, and are really only apart when one of them runs errands alone or one wakes up early to walk Makkachin in the morning while the other sleeps in, and sometimes Yuuri just needs to be by himself. 

Victor doesn’t understand at first. This whole thing is new to him anyway, and he doesn’t get that Yuuri isn’t mad at him when he retires early into movie night or occasionally seems to prefer the dog’s company to his. He’s frustrated that Yuuri won’t just tell him why he’s angry, and Yuuri is frustrated that Victor doesn’t understand that he isn’t. He really isn’t. 

It takes them some time and a few minor quarrels, but Victor slowly starts to realize what he means - that as much as Yuuri loves him (and he doesn’t doubt that Yuuri does), he needs time to himself, a place of his own. They share everything - a home, a bedroom, a bathroom, a rink - and Yuuri has very little to call his and his alone. 

So when Yuuri is away on a trip to visit his parents in Hasetsu - a trip that Victor knows he needed to take alone, just this once - Victor gets to work. 

He clears out the old dusty boxes and books from the small extra room, finds new places for some things and donates the rest of them. He vacuums and dusts and puts down a fluffy rug over the cold hard wood, puts in a kotatsu because he knows Yuuri’s feet get cold easily in the bitter Russian winter, and piles the love seat by the window high with every blanket and pillow he can spare. As a finishing touch he even puts in a doggy door so that Makkachin can come and go as he pleases even whenever Yuuri wants to keep the door shut.

When Yuuri comes home and gets unpacked, Victor hustles him over to the room with a grin on his face. And Yuuri is confused at first: “Vitya, what is this?” And Victor just smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek. “It’s your room.” 

At first he can see the tiniest glint of anxiety flitting across Yuuri’s eyes, can practically hear him wondering if Victor is kicking him out of their bed, and he is quick to correct him. To tell him that he knows he doesn’t understand fully what goes on in Yuuri’s head, but that he also knows Yuuri needed his own space. To keep him sane, to keep him calm, and when Yuuri realizes - really realizes - what Victor has done for him, he could cry.

Sometimes they curl up together on the loveseat and watch snow fall outside, or eat together with their feet tucked warmed under the kotatsu. Sometimes Yuuri lounges with a book or his music and Makkachin on his lap. Sometimes he keeps the door open, and sometimes he shuts it, and that’s okay too, because he always comes out eventually, and he seems lighter, more rested, more calm. 

Victor doesn’t need to spend every second with him to know he loves him. Knowing Yuuri is happy and comfortable makes the time they spend together so much sweeter.

My fake boyfriend Part 1

Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1056.

Warnings: Angst your ex is an ass, fuffly Bucky is a cute pie.

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta. You rock.

Originally posted by sebjpeg

Bucky wakes up with someone shaking his shoulders, he groans annoyed not ready to get up yet “Leave me alone, Steve, I’m not gonna run with you today.” He hears someone laughing, he swears that is your laughter “It’s not Steve… it’s me.”

He opens his eyes, he sees your face in front of him and it feels almost like a dream having you in his bed “What are you doing here, doll?” You smile weakly at him “Sorry, Sam let me in; I just need to talk to someone.”

Keep reading

Adira’an Oraha comes from a very special tribe of miqo’te that disbanded more than fourteen years ago- and although that signed the end of their way of life, he and his sister chose to maintain its values to this very day. A proud tribe, they valued knowledge and integrity, and above all, unshakable esteem for themselves and every human being they came across. While they were by no means naive, killing was seen as a heinous act, and was punished accordingly. They clung to these beliefs firmly, and their tight hold on their beliefs is was estranged them from the rest of the world… and ultimately lead to their demise

After several years of wandering, Adira’an and his sister Sai’dah arrived at Ul’dah in search of a new life.  In doing so, they bore witness to the suffering of refugees, a plight not unlike their own. With nothing to their names but each-other and the clothes on their back, Adira saw new purpose in this city. While it was full of hardship and suffering of the less than well off, the people were sturdy and hopeful. Adira would do what was needed in order to help them and see the refugees here with more than just hope. Alas, there was dissension to be found. Adira possessed a calm, resounding and patient kind of pride, while Sai’dah’s was vibrant, fierce and unrelenting like the sun itself. They both sought to save the refugees, but could not agree with eachother’s respective method, and thus the two were separated. 

Sa’idah would lend her might to the Ala mighans, while Adira would lend his kindness….

SAY HELLO TO ADIRA’AN~! (ft. a Very Nervous Tiergan ™)

Adira is a keeper of the moon, and currently a wealthy politician in Ul’dah that’s been a thorn in the syndicate’s side for some time. Having come to Ul’dah when he was reaching his sixteenth year, he very much considers himself apart of something bigger that ought to acknowledge the poor treatment of refugees within the city, as well as extend even more help to those that still suffer from inadequate living situations.  Kind, charismatic, inquisitive, and elegant, Adira’an is as brave as he is easy on the eyes, not flinching away from tackling messy political topics and considered a troublemaker/pariah among most pro-syndicate groups.

He has as many friends as he has critiques, as it was no small thing acquiring his wealth and inching his way into the spot light if only to bring to light the more pressing issues of injustice towards not just ala mighans, but anyone below the poverty line.

Beyond politics, Adira’an is a very calm and easy going man who prefers to keep to himself. He dislikes conflict, but his love of people is much stronger yet. His resolve is commendable, as he’s devoted a good amount of his life pursuing the dream he has in mind for the refugees.

Years ago, before his wealth, he made a decision; that he would do whatever was necessary to see his goals come to fruition. It was for this purpose that he sought out an unusual line of work- one that dealt with people and wealth on a regular basis.  After years of training, Adira’an became a professional escort under an alias, and remained as such for several years before retiring after one of his clients professed to him their desire to adopt and bequeath their wealth unto him.

Nowadays, when he isn’t arguing with old men and women or out amid the refugees, hes at home enjoying the small things, having made a hobby of designing his own clothes, as well as playing the part of a practicing makeup artist.

((^He doesn’t usually wear things this gaudy, I just wanted an excuse to draw fancy clothes))

As far as looks go, Adira is on the short side for a male keeper, and while he maintains an alright amount of definition, he is no fighter. Before his fists, he would use his words to defend himself. His tail is long and the fur is thin, lending itself to the fact that hes spent much of his life inside the city rather than out among the birds and the trees. He possesses a deep, smooth voice with a thick accent, rolling his r’s and extending his a’s.

((I’d type more but its 4 am and I want to go die now. I hope you enjoyed reading about Adira!))


It was just so frustrating.

Draco was used to being good at cooking, he could make a mean apple pie in minutes granted he could use his wand. Now, however, he was bound to a muggle kitchen for his cookery. A shared muggle kitchen. After the war, the ministry had confiscated all the Malfoy family funds, and he had been forced to live in a tiny muggle flat.

Now former death eater Draco Malfoy had flour and yolk all over him, yet he couldn’t muster getting the lumps of butter out of his dough. Bloody muggles even manage to ruin baking for me. A tired and frustrated sigh left his throat.

“Don’t let the muggles get you down.”


It was potter. Of course it was Potter. The raven haired man stood in the doorway of the communal kitchen, clearly amusing himself with the sight of a struggling Draco. “Oh, you again. Come to gloat, have you?”

Potter and his friends had taken the flat above his, to rub their fame and fortune in his face, Draco suspected. Now they can look at their favorite charity case on a daily basis.

Draco tried to keep the hurt and humiliation from his voice. He owed Potter his freedom, his living space, his internship at the Scamander Institute, heck, even his life he owed to Potter. After all he’d been through, Draco had longed for freedom, for no one telling him what to do, for a place filled with peace and quiet. But just like all the other things Draco had ever truly hoped for, it hadn’t come true.

Potter pushed himself from the wall. “It’s a thing Ron used to say, before he discovered muggle music.” The man fought to keep the smile from his face while walking towards the blond. Malfoy looked criminally hot in an apron.

“I used to do all the cooking when I lived at the Dursleys.” Potter took the bowl with batter from the counter and worked it with what had to be magic. In under a minute his hands turned the previously lumpy stuff in a substance as smooth as a mirror.

“How..” Draco couldn’t form a full sentence while in full view of potters biceps, tensing and relaxing faster and faster. It wasn’t fair that Potter was so bloody fit. He was already famous, rich, loved and an uncommonly nice person, why did he need to be hot too?

“If I was too slow they would lock me up in my cupboard without supper, so I learned how to speed up quite fast.” Suddenly Potter realised what he’d just admitted to, his cheeks flashed with red. “Uhm, I mean my room without dessert of course, living in a cupboard would be riddikulus…”

The attempt to laugh away his words failed. Draco recognised the memory of a traumatizing experience immediately. In the way Potter held himself, his tense shoulders, dilated pupils, flaring nostrils. He didn’t need to know the details of this cupboard to see it had been far from pleasant.

Potter humourless laugh did nothing to remove the hurt in his emerald eyes, and now his dough covered hands gripped the bowl so tightly the edges cut his skin. Tiny scarlet droplets trickled from the sides. Far from pleasant did not cover how Potter felt about this cupboard, apparently. He was properly scared shitless just thinking about it. Who did this to you Harry?

With the distress radiating of the man, Draco could not possibly keep calling him Potter. Slowly his bony white hands pried Harry’s fingers from the bowl. He’d never before touched Harry’s skin, or anyone’s skin, like this. Calm, caring, maybe even loving. Draco had made all the wrong choices, but this man never had a choice at all.

“It’s okay.” Draco stroked Harry’s back. He didn’t recall making that decision, he’d never be that bald, but Harry visibly relaxed under his touch so he didn’t stop. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It isn’t. It never will be.” Harry’s voice was just a whisper, broken by tears. All words left unspoken between them now somehow seemed understood.

“I know.” Even the Malfoy mask could not stop the tears glistening in Draco’s eyes. “But it’s what people say, isn’t it?”

This one is for my new followers, thank you!

@titanium-swan @queenofthyme @kaurabarnwolf1984 @drarryking

Ps. Hope it doesn’t suck too much, I only started writing stuff like this some months ago, and im not native to english

link to part two

I love when Tony Stark haters say they wouldn’t want to kill the woman/man who murdered their parents.

I love it when they say “I’d be mad seeing it but I’d learn to control myself”
Fuck off outta here.

You’re telling me you can watch the actual footage of your parents being brutally murdered after years of not knowing what happened to them all the while the man who did it is literally within arms reach?
Oh, and you’re telling me you’d be calm and collected even after the dude you trusted lies straight to your face? Literally right to your face he lies, you realize he’s been keeping this info to save his own skin and he lies when you ask him. You’re telling me you would be able to control yourself?

Well fuck me running you should harness that ability and teach people how to do that?¿?¿?¿?¿

a-broke-in-heart  asked:

HI! Omg I love your blog so much!! And can I please request the RFA+ V, Saeran Dealing with an MC who has severe anxiety and insists on grabbing onto their shirts in large crowds or in public?

aah thank you so much!! i also want the rfa, v and/or saeran to grab onto in public ;-;


  • When you first met at the party, you were constantly blushing and touching him somehow, holding his shirt
  • He found it really adorable! His new girlfriend was so cute!
  • You felt safer with him around without him even noticing, and he was really talkative so you didn’t need to talk too much
  • After you told him about your anxiety, he hugged you and promised to try his best to take care of you


  • He thought you were just worried about losing him in the crowd after every play he performed, so he found it adorable
  • When he noticed that you gripped his shirt every time you even stepped out of the door, he started wrapping his arm protectivly around you whenever you went out in public
  • “Let me protect you, princess”’
  • Probably kissing your head reassuringly every few minutes


  • She noticed that you followed her around the RFA party and shyly held the sleeve of her cardigan, but she didn’t comment as she was quite nervous and shy herself and just grateful to have you by her side
  • When you held onto her shirt again when you went grocery shopping, she guessed that you were probably anxious in public
  • She asked you as she figured it would be kind of rude to assume you had a mental disorder, and found out that her suspicions were true 
  • Made sure to not send you out of the house alone, so you would always have her for support


  • At first he was slightly annoyed that you wrinkled his shirt during meetings, but as soon as he realized that you did it in fear, his heart melted
  • He didn’t judge you at all, he understood that business men were intimidating 
  • Would probably suggest that you tried to not wrinkle his shirt as it looked unprofessional, but he didn’t really mind too much if it helped you cope
  • Bought wrinkle free shirts, but still preferred when you held his hand instead


  • You luckily didn’t leave the bunker often, so it wasn’t too big of a problem
  • He saw that you had been prescribed anxiety medicine when he did his background check on you, so he figured that you probably wasn’t too comfortable in public
  • Always made sure to stand right by your side, holding out his arm so you could hold it if you needed to


  • Being practically blind, he first thought that you always held his shirt because it would be easier to lead him like that
  • He was slightly confused as to why you grabbed his shirt instead of his hand though, so he decided to ask you one day
  • When you told him it was a coping mecanism for your anxiety, he offered to take you to therapy sessions
  • He would be really supportive no matter what i love this man okay


  • Let’s be real, he was probably just as anxious as you
  • Even if he grumbled and sounded annoyed gotta keep up that bad boy reputation, he would take your hand back to his shirt if you let go
  • If you didn’t hold it in fear of annoying him, he got nervous and held your shirt instead
  • As you became closer, you started holding hands as soon as you left the door, as that would calm down both of you at once

anonymous asked:

Hey I know you have a bunch of requests so feel free to do this later on or something! But do you think you could write something where paps are taking pictures of you and you get kind of scared and Harry tries to stop it but he can't do he gets kinda mad and sad bc you shouldn't have to go through that? Thank you!:)

hi love! thanks for sending this in! happy reading :) xxh 


It was like one of those old cartoons where people disguised themselves with a pair of glasses and a fake moustache. You felt rather ridiculous, you were just out for a quick coffee date, but Harry insisted that you wear not only sunglasses, but “Maybe a hat too?” he said hesitantly.

This was all normal to him – wearing non-descript clothing, hiding from the normal world when he needed to venture out. You’d gone out with him a few times as well, and it was beginning to become commonplace.

“Harry, it’s August,” you sighed, “I’ll stick out even more-so with a hat on my head.”

“You’re probably right,” he paused, “I just … Last time …”

Last time.

You walked over to him from your place at the desk in your room which doubled as a vanity, and put your hands on his shoulders. He moved his head to look down at you, eyes shut, and with a deep breath, opened them to meet your eyes.

“You know it’s okay, right?” you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek.

He turned his head away from you, staring off into the corner, “S’my fault. Should’ve never ‘appened.”

It was a vivid memory, even 3 weeks later. Harry had hardly let you leave the house with him after that, let alone going out by yourself. It was enormously endearing that he was so protective, but you had things to do. A life to live. You couldn’t stay tucked up in his apartment like Rapunzel all day, until your prince came home to save you.

Keep reading


Gency Superhero AU no one asked for? Check

Gency. Sentai!Genji. AU. Fluff. 

Every morning when she departs from her love, he always tells her, “Be careful, angel wings.”

She shakes her head, but kisses Genji before heading to the hospital for her shift. So clever with his words, he hooked her heart before she even knew it. Loving and dear, she could never want anyone else.

Her mind skips over his simple words while the bank is getting robbed. Men in black masks screaming for cash. Running to cash a check right before it closes is a mistake, and now she’s paying for it.

Keep reading

Words Never Last

Summary: When Dan and Phil are informed that their daughter punched another student, they must figure out why. However, to do this, they have to face an incredibly homophobic headmaster. And a student to match.

Genre: Parent! phan, Fluff, Homophobia

Warnings: Swearing, Homophobic slurs

Word Count: 1.6k

“It was a call from the school,” Phil mumbled.

“And…” Dan urged Phil to continue.

“She punched a kid. Get your coat on, we have to go.” Dan slammed the lid to his MacBook and sat up.

“She what?” Dan convinced himself that he just misheard his husband.

“C’mon, we have to hurry up.” Even though the statement was nagging at his mind, Dan got up and slid into his jacket. He ignored the fact that his daughter might have punched someone. He ignored the fact that his husband seemed not to care. All he set his mind to at that point was getting to the school.

Keep reading

love love peace peace (and a little revenge)

… in which Killian does Eurovision. Because the Eurovision was on, and @ofshipsandswans and @killiancygnus and @captainswanandclintasha and @swanandapirate are a terrible influence.

It’s all Ruby’s fault.

That’s Emma’s tale, and she’s sticking to it. She still isn’t entirely sure how writing a song turned into, well, this. She was going to just watch it on the TV. She wanted to stay in the background. But here she is, sitting backstage with Ruby and the rest of the Norway team, blinking in the flashing lights and trying not to look overwhelmed by the ridiculousness all around her.

Because Eurovision is ridiculous. There’s a guy on stage right now singing a high-pitched song about bread or something, while five other men dressed as rain drops dance around him. Or maybe they’re tear drops; Emma isn’t sure.

The point is, all Emma ever wanted to do was write a song, and yet here she is at the weirdest music event she’s ever attended and wondering about Europe’s collective sanity.

Elsa’s performance goes amazingly well, though, so there’s that. The ice theme was the right choice, as Ruby remarks with satisfaction, complementing the song while being weird enough to leave an impression. Emma was unsure about the robotic snow man whizzing around the stage, before, but she understands the reasoning now. It’s probably the next meme already.

The crowd loves it, anyway.

Emma suffers through another ballad, this one sung by a German lady who could really do with a bucket or something to help her carry the tune. She’s only half-paying attention, most of her mind on Elsa and Ruby and trying to look calm and relaxed for the cameras, in case any show up.

“Next up is the UK—let’s meet their candidate!” one of the hosts (Emma keeps mixing them up) calls.

There are screens everywhere, showing the little clip that plays before each country takes the stage. Emma pays no attention, because Anna has started talking again, her nerves running away with her.

“… because really everyone says neighbours vote for each other, but we don’t have that many neighbours and I’m not sure Sweden would vote for us anyway, but I think that a lot of people also vote for the song they like best and really Elsa has been the best so far, hasn’t she? And—”

“Anna,” Emma says, reaching over to put a calming hand on the girl’s shoulder before she can drive them all to the brink of nervous collapse again. “Anna. Relax. Elsa did her best, and now we just have to wait and see.”

“I know, but—oh, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” Anna’s eyes have snagged on the stage, where the UK’s candidate is about to begin his song.

Emma follows her gaze, thankful to the UK for distracting Anna—and does a startled double-take.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what's your favorite thing about luke?

wow that is a good question. brace yourself.

so, what i like most is that he has every reason to be an asshole yet he’s the nicest man out there. like his parabatai betrayed him and it wasn’t just a simple betrayal you know. he wanted luke dead. his soul mate wanted him dead what can be harder than this? he was privileged and then he lost his privilege. his family turned their back on him. remember cleophas calling him names like “a filthy animal”. just imagine that… like turning into a werewolf wasn’t enough already… and like after he was turned just think how hard was it. he was suicidal but his love for jocelyn and clary kept him going. the werewolves were probably so harsh to him. i mean he’s an ex-circle member who is now a werewolf. well, i would be very pissed at him, if i were a werewolf. that’s for sure. and he wasn’t even a regular circle member. he was the leader’s parabatai. i can’t even imagine how hard it must be for him. but even with all those things, he kept going good. he cared for people around him.

remember the scene where simon tries to calm him. luke taught him how to shave. like who does that? simon is his girlfriend’s daughter’s best friend (wtf right?) but luke is like a father to him too. he would do anything to keep the ones he loves safe. i’m not even talking about his relationship with maia. we didn’t even see it properly. (FUCK YOU WRITERS GIVE MY MAN MORE SCENES) anyway so as you can see he cares about everyone even tho he experienced really hard things. he could be like no one cared about me so fuck em all. but instead, he’s the purest sunshine.

and he has zero tolerance for shadowhunters like bless him. “man get off my docks” or “we never asked”. ICONIC. even tho the writers are assholes to him at least he got good lines… 

anyway i can go on for ages. like he calls clary “kiddo” how cute is that? and let me tell you clary doesn’t deserve his love… anyway that’s another issue but i would do anything for luke. simply:


“Worries” Part 2

Word Count: 1,116

Daryl Dixon x Reader

This is part two of “Worries”, which you can read HERE

Summary: When Negan takes Daryl in as prisoner, he has more than a few words about Daryl’s relationship with you.

Warnings: A lot of Swearing (lol Negan is in this what do you expect)

Thanks for requesting a second part, anon! :)

We’re on easy street, and it feels so sweet…”

That song, playing on repeat, was driving Daryl insane. The only thing he could think about was getting out of that cell, escaping, and seeing you again. But of course, that seemed impossible since he was locked away, being forced to listen to the same song over and over again, eating dog food sandwiches.

“Get up.” Dwight opened the door, sunlight streaming into the once pitch dark cell. Daryl winced his eyes at the sudden change of light, but didn’t move to get up.

“I said get the fuck up, now. Negan wants to see you.” Dwight says again, and when Daryl doesn’t move, he grabs Daryl by the arm and forces him to walk down the hallway.

“Aha, exactly who I wanted to see.” Negan turned around from speaking to one of his many wives. Daryl grunts in response, and Dwight lets go of his arm.

“We gotta have a little chat.” Negan sets his drink down. “It’s about your precious little whore, Y/N.”

Daryl’s attention is fully on Negan once he mentions your name, even if it’s in a bad way. He hadn’t heard anything about you since the night of the lineup. He didn’t even know if you were alive, or if you were okay. All he could seem to do (besides plan escaping) was worry about you.

“Dwight, ladies, you mind giving us a little goddamn privacy? Fuck, I don’t get any respect around here.” Negan sighs, setting Lucille down on the table. They all hurry to leave the room, making Negan smirk in response. He loves being listened to, being in control.

“So, Daryl.”

“What?” Daryl manages to make out, his voice a little dry from not doing anything but crying and yelling for the past few days.

“Every time I am in Alexandria, all I get is dirty looks from that girl of yours. Let me tell you- that is not fucking cool, but damn is she a babe!” Negan laughs. Daryl gives him a dirty look, not liking that Negan was blatantly hitting on you. He’s very protective of you, and he hates when anyone even looks at you in a way that’s not friendly. But he knows better than to say anything to Negan.

“That ass, mhm, that’s a sight to see. I bet that pussy is great, too.” Negan taunts Daryl, and seeing by the look on his face, its working.

“She’s real lonely without you there. I offered to make her one of my wives, keep her company all day, fuck her brains out. She rejected that offer real fucking quick, seems she’s still hung up in you. Won’t be for too long. Not with all of those strong, younger men out there.”

Daryl wants to pick up Lucille from the couch and bash in Negan’s head like he did to Glenn and Abraham, but he somehow manages to keep his cool.

Despite all of the times that you have tried to reassure him that he didn’t need to be insecure about the age difference, he couldn’t help but let it get to him sometimes. Between everyone at the camp bothering him about it and his own worries that you would lose interest in him, he was very insecure about the situation. Typically you were the only person that could reassure him that everything was going to be ok and calm him down, but you weren’t here this time.

“She wouldn’t.” Is all he says.

“You sure about that, buddy? You’re an old ass man. She’s a hot ass fucking babe, ten out of ten. She’s going to leave you sooner or better.”

“She won’t.” Daryl grits through his teeth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I offend you?” Negan puts his hand over his heart. “I did, didn’t I?”


“I could see why you’d be bothered by it, shit, I don’t blame ‘ya. She’s way out of your league. Surprised she’s not with that little serial killer- he’s only a few years younger than her, isn’t he? Or even with Rick. At least he’s got something going for him, being the, quite frankly shitty, leader of you guys.”

“Shut up.”

“Nuh-uh,” Negan shakes his finger. “You don’t get to tell me to shut up, or I will toss you right back into that fucking cage you just came from.”

Daryl sits there, unsure why Negan even called him out there. If it was just to taunt and tease him about you, than he would rather go back into the cell.

“Why am I out here?”

“I got bored. Decided to take the shit out of ‘ya in a different way than torture. I gotta say, this is way more fucking entertaining.” Negan laughs. “I’m just busting your balls, you can relax. I think its damn cool you can score someone like that. Even in the apocalypse. Shit, I’d even go as far as sayin’ I’m proud of ‘ya. She seems to really like you, for what reason I have no goddamn idea, but she does.”

“Please let me see her, I need ‘ta see her.” Daryl begged.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Ya took Carl here, showed him around. Bring Y/N here.”

“Beggin’ me isn’t gonna do shit.” Negan shook his head. “Dwight!” He yelled, and the man came inside the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take him back. Done with him. He’s too goddamn sensitive.”

“No, no, no please, let me see her.” Daryl was about ready to explode, between the anger built up from this conversation with Negan, to that stupid song playing over and over again, to being stuck in isolation.

“Too bad so sad.” Negan waved them off, and gestured for his wives to come back into the room.

“Let’s go.” Dwight forced him back into the cell, pushing him to the ground.

“I want to see Y/N.” Daryl says before the door is closed shut again.

“Sorry, old man.”

The door shuts again, leaving Daryl alone again. His mind is still reeling from the conversation with Negan, making him more upset by the minute. The only thing that calms him down is remembering your voice telling him that you love him, and your beautiful face. You’re the only thing that gets him through the day and that gives him the strength to keep on.

We’re on easy street, and it feels so sweet…”

anonymous asked:

Hello you~ :). I hope you are having a nice day. I wanted to request a headcanon with a mexican, I just think the latinamerican part of the fandom needs a little bit more of love. Thank you in advance. :D.

hey there, hun~ I’m always up for giving some love to my latinx fam and I hope I didn’t fuck up too much, anon! if I did please inform me so I can fix it right away. Have a nice day as well! (btw since you didn’t specify, I included the usual babes).

- Admin Cat Mom.


  • almost passes out when he sees you greeting other guys with a kiss on the cheek.
  • what the heck mc he feels Betrayed.
  • doesn’t know a lot about mexico aside from the food.
  • so ofc first thing he asks is for you to make him some tacos.
  • but like the real thing please.
  • tries to look up recipes online to cook you a proper mexican meal.
  • it doesn’t work out well bUT it’s the gesture that counts, right? RIGHT?
  • it’s super easy to trick him into cursing in spanish lmao and it’s the cutest thing, he swears he’s saying the cheesiest stuff to you.


  • can’t keep his eyes off of you.
  • you swear you’ve caught him drooling more than once.
  • the kind of guy to call you exotic and shiz.
  • brags about you to literally everyone??? except men because they’re all wolves.
  • seriously this man needs to calm down a bit.
  • gets all hot and bothered every time you say the slightest thing in spanish, like enough to make him leave the room, otherwise he’s afraid he’ll unleash the beast.
  • unless you want him to.
  • if this bothers you he promises to tone himself down.
  • also apologizes because all he knows about latin america relates to beautiful women and passion and love and whatnot.
  • does an effort to actually learn about mexico and is fascinated.


  • is pretty chill about it.
  • your mornings consist of you making breakfast together and dancing around the kitchen to some cumbias or latin pop songs, among other tunes you both enjoy.
  • there’s no dancing before the coffee though.
  • you tend to repeat this routine before dinner, and during weekends, and basically whenever you’re bored.
  • once she got so into a song she sang a line in spanish but it was so bad that her face went entirely red.
  • she wanted the earth to swallow her up.
  • loves mexican sweets and pastries!! 
  • flan is her favorite.
  • has you asking your relatives to send you snacks, and also ingredients so you can bake some recipes you’ve mentioned in the past.


  • knows a little bit of spanish and tries to exercise his skills with you.
  • he’s bad but he compensates it with confidence.
  • watches mexican novelas with elizabeth the 3rd behind your back to try and learn more about you and your culture.
  • …has no idea what’s going on, even elizabeth looks perplexed.
  • decides it’s better to simply ask you about what he wants to know.
  • starts projects and deals with latin american companies.
  • that being said, he takes you with him during business trips.
  • asks you what he can do to make you feel more at home.
  • culture shock is a thing, he’s aware of it, and he wouldn’t want you to feel sad or homesick while staying at south korea.
  • heard something about a group in facebook for latinos in korea and suggests you to join and share your experiences.


  • this boy knows no chill whatsoever.
  • never misses an opportunity to troll you.
  • exchanging memes is basically your thing, that’s how you bond now, apparently.
  • [ignores you in spanish]
  • [cries in korean]
  • pretends to be scared of you when you get angry.
  • well it looks like someone’s getting his ass whooped.
  • probs knows spanish so you can kind of communicate and sing songs with you.
  • disney movies in spanish? siGN HIM TF UP.
  • “let’s start with Aladdin, MC, so we can recreate Un Mundo Ideal together.”
  • all jokes aside, he embraces this side of you, it’s a part of who you are and you’re precious to him so??


  • has never been to mexico but knows his fair share of information.
  • cannot!! believe!! you come from such a beautiful place!!
  • fantastic excuse to go on a trip and take millions of pictures together.
  • soft boi is fascinated by your culture and you.
  • spanish is hard but he tries.
  • and he giggles and stammers and gets all blushed, it’s adorable.
  • the kind of guy to shamelessly dance with you in the middle of the street.
  • it doesn’t matter if you have two left feet, he sucks as well and honestly, who cares? you’re there to have fun.
  • is eager to meet your family.
  • enjoys every meal, every drink and every snack you make him try.
  • will probably miss the food when he’s back home.
  • promises to show you the entirety of south korea next time.


  • not really a big deal for him.
  • it doesn’t matter where you come from you’re still annoyingly cute.
  • lowkey curious about your culture though.
  • since he’s a sickly bean, you have to take care of him often.
  • and the first time you rub vicks vaporub on his chest he gets quite overwhelmed to say the least.
  • “what wait that feels weird ew get away from me.”
  • “…no wait now it feels nice.”
  • not a fan of spicy food because it makes him sick but he has a few bites just for you.
  • one day he shows up wearing a sombrero and a poncho, he looks so pissed and he’s blushing… is he trying to impress you? maybe.
  • “saeyoung made me wear this.”
  • “no, honey…… what did we talk about… taking advice from your brother?”

crazy-fruit  asked:

Another prompt for Rebelcaptain: Telling each other the stories behind their scars. Thank you ♡♡♡

here you go, friend! <3

The scar zigzags down her side, puckered white along the ridges of her ribs. Cassian’s fingers still the first time they brush over it. With her head on his chest, she can feel his intake of breath.

“That’s nothing,” she says—a reflex, automatic. But she feels softer in the cool glow of this little room, stripped of clothes and shields alike. And Cassian is the first person in a long time with whom lying has felt worse than telling the truth.

She takes a breath.

“It was a long time ago,” she starts. Cassian’s hand sweeps down to trace a line along her bare hip.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he murmurs. She closes her eyes, shifting closer.

“I was six,” she continues. That the words are coming out at all feels remarkable. “Or seven, maybe.”

Cassian’s hand stills again, and Jyn shakes her head, kissing his chest.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. No shootouts, nothing like that. I was just…young and clumsy. I fell.”

Cassian makes the soft sound in his throat that tells her that he’s heard her, that he’s listening, that she has the space to keep talking or stop talking. That it’s up to her.

There are so very many things she loves about this man, but that sound might top the list.

“My father—” She starts, stops, swallows. Starts again: “Papa found me, bloody and screaming. Mama stitched me up, and Papa sang the whole time to try to keep me calm. In the end, I think he cried more than me.”

Cassian finds her hand splayed against his side, slides his fingers through hers.

“I’m glad,” he whispers.

She can already feel treacherous and wet something welling up at the corners of her eyes. She bites down at her lip.

“What?” she asks, the tremor in her voice not quite masked. “Glad that I got hurt? I couldn’t walk right for weeks.”

“I’m glad,” continues Cassian—soft, patient, “that you were so loved.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything. She can’t. She can only lie there like an exposed nerve as Cassian shifts and gently, gently presses his lips to her forehead.

She appreciates that he doesn’t say the words; it would be too much to hear them out loud. But she feels them, knows them to be true.

You still are.

anonymous asked:

do you have any favorite vmin fics? id appreciate it~ thank you

Wow man, I was almost finished with answering this and then I deleted by mistake oh well fuck me. But here you go again!

baby i’m the one (and you’re the only one) by causeitsred [rated M, 11k]

up for air by idolrapper (wonwoo) [rated E, 4.5k]

space is just a word (i want you close enough) by dollyeo [rated E, 10k]

the invention of ordinary every day things by knth [rated T, 6.5k]

call me (whenever you want me) by jhopeg [rated M, 23k]

for you, anything. by kadotas [rated T, 25k]

two birds, one scone by kadotas [rated G, 8k]

Let’s Make the Most of the Night (Like We’re Gonna Die Young) by Bangtanbananas [rated E, 52k]

cut it out / pull me in by minfairy [rated E, 7.8k]

drunk and in love by taebyte [rated T, 24k]

i keep forgetting (my mistakes were made for you) by peachguk [rated E, 22k]

Once In A Lifetime by SevenSoulmates [rated M, 34k]

Second Chance by Toshiba19 [rated T, 13k]

i’m a teepee, i’m a wigwam (calm down, man - you’re two tents) by bazooka [rated E, 9.4k]

mysteries and dictionaries by minfairy [rated M, 23k]

locked up (in love) by minfairy [rated E, 46k]

‘til morning comes, let’s tessellate by maxx [rated E, 8k]

Shooting Stars and Silver Moons by mucha [rated E, 20k]

never shoot to miss by umji [rated T, 14k]

everything feels like a dream (don’t try to disappear) by kaythebest [rated T, 9k]

it’s your heart i wanna live (& sleep) in by knth [rated T, 22k]

and when you think of me, am i the best you’ve ever had by causeitsred [rated E, 12k]

This Confession Note Wasn’t Meant for You by Toshiba19 [rated T, 24k]

let’s get going by gangbang [rated E, 7.3k]

Jammed by minverse [rated E, 11k]

all of your sides are good by knth [rated E, 16k] aka the fic that got me into vmin

I Will Make You Whole by lethallergic [rated E, 36k]

roll with it by conversehigh [rated T, 6.8k]

Ahh, it didn’t get deleted this time, #bless Hope you enjoy all of these wonderful VMin fics!!

-Admin Nana

No Man’s Toy

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted anything in a while but ive kinda been busy. I do hope to get all the requests done by this weekend but that may not happen. I really have been trying to improve my writing, too. I wrote an imagine the other day so I could get it done but it came out crappy cause I was doing it fast just to get it done and it didn’t turn out well so it will be redone. I hope you guys like this one because I would have to say its my favorite.

Khal Drogo x reader

requested by anonymous

25. “I’d kill a thousand men before I let one make me his slave.”


warning: Cussing, mention of rape, mention of sex

It was a calm, cool day. Not a cloud in the sky, all was peaceful. Well, it should have been. Being the time that it was, families always married their children off to ensure security and freedom. As was the case with Y/n’s family. Her family left Westeros when she was just a little girl at the mere age of four, she could hardly remember what it was like. Now she was 18 and could only remember the place she now called home. She was a fully developed woman and in her mother’s eyes, fit to be married. Her mother always said, “ You know when a woman needs a man when her breasts need a hand to hold them up and fingers to keep her core calm.”

Due to her stubbornness and quiet voice, very few were willing to marry and if so, didn’t afford what the family was looking for. It made things rather tough for Y/n. She wouldn’t get to marry for love but rather wealth in anyway her family saw it. They had just ran out of luck, much to the girl’s delight, when news came the the Dothraki warlord, Khal Drogo, was looking for a wife. This brought much excitement to the family, but very little to the soon to be wife.

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