I don’t know where I am. It’s like I’m breaking into a million pieces and there is only one thing I remember: I have to save the Doctor. He always looks different. I always know it’s him. Sometimes I think I’m everywhere at once, running every second just to find him. Just to save him. But he never hears me. Almost never. I blew into this world on a leaf. I’m still blowing. I don’t think I’ll ever land. I’m Clara Oswald. I’m the impossible girl.
We’re so sorry for the delay, but we really hope your wait was worth it~ Here is the first of the Halloween smuts- brought to you by myself and my lovely @dont-run-up <3 P.s. leave some comments so we know how we did ^^
“Run.” The deformed command that fell from Jaebum’s mouth had Y/N running for the back door out of their cabin. Fear had overridden logic as she bolted past her shoes and off the deck. The soft earth beneath her feet was a mild comfort as she ran for her life. Forest leaves exploded in color as the sunset washed over them. Oak and maple leaves littered the forest floor forming a radiant carpet of yellows, reds and golden browns. Y/N’s barely covered feet ran over them, uncaring of the wonders around her. She looked to the sky only to see the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. Birds screamed warnings of impending danger above her. Quickly they flew overhead leaving her in their dust. The young woman whimpered wishing she could take flight just like them, to leave and return to Seoul.
Sokcho was supposed to be a beautiful weekend destination for Y/N and her beau. They’d gotten some time off for Chuseok and decided to spend it alone for the first time. Everything was planned, their stay, the touristy shit they’d wanted to partake in and even their last day of lounging. Jaebum was the one to suggest the mountains this far north, said it would “bring them closer to all the natural parts of themselves.” Y/N had to laugh at the irony of that one. Is this how her ancestors felt, running from larger things that wanted to eat them? Fear was a powerful thing, it kept her legs pumping despite the fire in her chest.
As she ran deeper into the woods the trees became closer, the roots thicker and more untamed. Thump. Thump. Thump. Y/N blood rushed in her ears, the birds long gone, all she could hear was the sound of her heart. She swore it was going to pop out of her chest at any moment; until then she kept going, bobbing and weaving through the underbrush. Thu-thump. Thump. Thump. That wasn’t her heart. Y/N broke out in a petrified sweat. She wondered how he’d caught up so fast and whether she’d collapse before he caught her.
I know the sound a bottle makes
when it falls to the floor
and I’ve seen the sun rise
from behind closed doors.
and tangled sheets
– it’s beautiful, you know –
the sunrise: pink clouds and navy trees
(the colors are wrong)
but it’s so damn beautiful
when shadows erode
and break away.
I can see it
even from behind these walls
– the moment everything changes
we start to win
we start to win for a while
and I can feel it
the touch of a leaf
blowing in the breeze
100 miles away
– it’s beating –
a little heart on fire
shining golden with the dawn
– it’s blinding –
pounding against the night
can you feel it?
can you see it?
we have fought
– even when we’ve lost –
we have fought
vampire!jjk x reader. fluff. 3.3k words. i should start writing someone else other than jungkook tbh.
Sadly, Jungkook isn’t aware of how attractive he looks.
Jungkook first caught whiff of her through the steam of the hot chocolate that burns his tongue.
He remembers it tasting so much sweeter. He remembers her back to him. He remembers the graceful glide of her pen on blank paper. He remembers the ding of the bell every time a customer enters.
It’s his first time sitting down in the restaurant, a secret sanctuary for blood thirsty fellow like him which he found out through Taehyung. He feels much more rejuvenated knowing he can ask for drops of blood on his drink without anyone shooting him weird looks.
Jungkook takes another sip, blowing a sigh to the cup on his lips as he swallow. He looks around him, the tables covered in satin white which people occupy, the clinking of cups and plates as some moves them. He wonders just how many of these people here are like him.
ft. Sam and Dean Winchester
Word Count: 4013
A/N: One-shot request
by anonymous – “I was wondering if you could do Cas meeting one of his oldest
friends (an angel) and introducing them to the boys. Fluffy maybe??” An old
friend seeks out Castiel on an errand to summon him home. Gender neutral
reader. Humor and fluff with a suggestion of plot and a side of bacon (because everything
is better with bacon).
roughly engaged the hand brake of the rickety borrowed brown truck as it
lurched to a grinding halt. The metallic ting of the radiator reminded the
angel he wanted to ask Dean to investigate that noise, along with the irksome vibration
and strange burning smell recently emanating from the clutch. He distractedly
traced the calloused pads of his fingertips along the worn curve of the
steering wheel – although a slow and inefficient method of travel, he had come
to enjoy the uninterrupted stretches of meditative solitude and passing minutia
of detail driving afforded.
might otherwise have winged right past the roadside attraction that purported
to be the World’s Largest Ball of Twine
without having paused for a few contemplative hours to unravel its significance.
Likewise, the alleged birthplace of the Which
came first, the chicken or the egg? controversy, along with the quaint one-room
museum dedicated to the conundrum that boastingly housed the actual chair where
the originator perched while hatching this riddle for the ages, would have gone
entirely unnoticed by him. The answer, he determined, and sincerely attempted
to explain to the wide-eyed gum-chewing teenaged museum curator, was that
neither the chicken or the egg came first. After all, he reasoned, in the
beginning, the very first of firsts, there was only light. Then eventually there
was the slimy scaly flopping fish-like things that crawled from the oceans and after
hundreds of thousands of years of evolution developed feathers. Chickens and
eggs, as humanity knows them, and in no particular order, were no more than an
afterthought. Mostly he wondered if the original owner of the ramshackle truck still
missed it and wanted it back, albeit a little worse for the wear.
have we stopped?” you interrupted his quiet reflection from your position in the
passenger seat, squinting through the windshield at the ugly and dilapidated industrial
building looming beyond the hazy glass.