let me be if you must pray for me

The Celebrity Magazine; Fall 2017 Issue
Chanyeol’s Interview

Question: You have a very strong image of optimism. Haven’t you ever wanted to break from that?
Chanyeol: When i was younger i thought my bright and optimistic image would create certain preconceptions for the music i wanted to compose, so i wanted to break away from the image, but these days i compose without thinking about that kind of thing. Because there is bound to be someone who enjoys that kind of music too. I’m living comfortably with that thought.

Question: I’ve heard that you got in trouble from your mother when you told her you wanted to raise a mouse that got caught in a mouse trap. Do you like animals?
Chanyeol: Animals are like family to me. I’ve always had animals with me since i was a child. These days i have no time to raise a pet because i’m busy, but i play with the dog at my parents’ place whenever i visit. Unfortunately i’ve developed a cat fur allergy which i didn’t have when i was younger, so i have to be careful.

Question: Your low voice is so nice to listen to. I’m curious about which songs you enjoy singing.
Chanyeol: I like singing. I sing Jung Jun Il sunbae-nim’s “Hug Me” a lot. I’ve even uploaded myself singing it in my own style. There are people who are surprised when i sing because they only know me as a rapper. Before i wanted to gain recognition for my singing, but these days i don’t feel that it’s necessary to worry myself like that.

Question: Not feeling the need to worry yourself can be seen as a sign of maturity. Was there a moment that caused it?
Chanyeol: My personality is rather impatient. I feel the need to do things immediately and feel anxious when i don’t. When i look at it i think the moment that helped me was all the bowling i did when i found myself with time to spare. I got impatient that i couldn’t control the bowl properly so clung to it for two months bowling until early morning, but i actually bowled better after a two month break when i went back with an easier mind. I control myself with the thought of ‘If i get it it’s good and if i don’t get it i’ll make it eventually’. Maybe it’s because personalities don’t change but i’m still impatient.

Question: Any songs that you find touching?
Chanyeol: I couldn’t understand them when i was younger but these days i really love songs by Black Skirt and Lee Sora sunbaenim. I was looking up their songs and suddenly found myself overcome with emotion, almost as though something was flowing into me.

Question: I’m curious about your current playlist.
Chanyeol: Amy Winehouse, Migos, Aerosmith, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC and more. There are also songs from the OST of the animation <Your Name>, which i watched recently.

Question: What did you like about <Your Name>?
Chanyeol: I like the subtle emotions that you find in Japanese films. I think i get pulled in very easily by the hooks Shinkai Makoto sets up. Of course the visuals are beautiful, but i really enjoyed the introduction of fantasy elements in a still realistic setting. The fact that the main protagonist went through a great deal of events but couldn’t remember any of it was sad.

Question: You debuted in 2012. Do you have any aspirations for your music as an idol of 5 years?
Chanyeol: EXO has always shown a new, trendy and constantly changing side of us in our own unique colours. You could see each member growing obviously for each album. I have faith in the company, so i believe that we will continue to grow in the future. I have a lot of passion for music personally too. At the moment i just want to enjoy myself with the music as it comes, without feeling as though i have to do something. It isn’t a greed from impatience, i could call it more of a greed to do better.

Question: Is there anything that influences your music?
Chanyeol: My surroundings. When i see someone who’s talented in music i want to be talented like them. I get the same desire when i meet an artist i respect or see a good performance. These days i pray alot before composing too. Praying helps me go into composing by letting me collect my thoughts and putting me in a calmer state.

Question: I’m curious about the artists you like.
Chanyeol: I’m a fan of Jamie Cullum. I like his voice and the way he plays the piano. I’m also a fan of pianist Yoon Suk Chul’s works. He’s so talented to the point where i think ‘he must be the god of piano’. I learn a lot from composing with him. I listen to a variety of genres but jazz and rock are my constants.

Question: You contributed in writing the lyrics of a song in your 4th official album. Is it an autobiographical story?
Chanyeol: No. ‘Sweet Lies’ is a story very far from me. I thought alot about what i would be like if i was a bad boy, but the style doesn’t really fit with me so it was a little difficult (laughs). G. Soul composed and wrote the lyrics for the frame of the song and when i first heard the melody i thought that kind of story would suit it.

Question: You’ve been called a ‘face prodigy’. What do you think when you look into the mirror.
Chanyeol: I admit it (laughs) I feel proud occasionally when i look in the mirror. I usually wear black clothing without accessorising very much. I started off thinking ‘I’ll be okay even though i’m wearing this’ but i stick to it now because it’s so comfortable. Comfort is the most important for going to the studio and bowling alley, home and so on. So i don’t really have much of an interest for appearances but when there’s a schedule and i look in the mirror with makeup i think ‘as expected’ (both laugh)

Question: You were wearing the so-called three-lined slippers at London, you’re even wearing them now.
Chanyeol: That’s right. These are the shoes and pants i wore then. I wore them because they were comfortable but even the London people were surprised. I told them it was outerwear clothes.

Question: As an artist, there are people who don’t hesitate on stage but are shy in front of a camera. Conversely, there are people who shine both on stage and enjoy themselves as a celebrity on variety shows or dramas. Which side do you lean towards?
Chanyeol: The former. There are lots of people that think i don’t talk when i go on variety shows and on top of that i’m very shy so it takes me a while to get comfortable. I still try though. I like seeing new sides of me so i always like a new challenge.

Question: I’m curious on how you feel about Seoul as someone who’s travelled all over the world.
Chanyeol: Even though i don’t feel particularly different when i’m overseas, the first thought i have when i come to Seoul is ‘Oh! I’m home’. When i come to Incheon airport and take my phone off airport mode, it’s convenient that the wifi works well. I don’t go around very much overseas.

Question: Last question. What gives you inspiration these days?
Chanyeol: Myself. Not because i’m particularly special but because i’m thinking a lot about myself. In the end i think all things conclude with yourself. So i find myself gaining inspiration for the types of music i really want to do.

Translation by fyeah-chanyeol
(Please take out with full credits)

Inktober 2017, 29/31: The Farmer and the Stork
A FARMER placed nets on his newly-sown plowlands and caught a number of Cranes, which came to pick up his seed. With them he trapped a Stork that had fractured his leg in the net and was earnestly beseeching the Farmer to spare his life. “Pray save me, Master,” he said, “and let me go free this once. My broken limb should excite your pity. Besides, I am no Crane, I am a Stork, a bird of excellent character; and see how I love and slave for my father and mother. Look too, at my feathers — they are not the least like those of a Crane.” The Farmer laughed aloud and said, “It may be all as you say, I only know this: I have taken you with these robbers, the Cranes, and you must die in their company.”
Birds of a feather flock together.
– Aesop’s Fables, translated by George Fyler Townsend

Bad Match part 12

Series Summary: Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.  

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: angst, a little more of angst, self-loathing, swearing, bad english.  

A/N: Finally, here’s some confrontations. Thank you once again @imhereforbvcky , you’re an essential part of this story.  

Feedback? Please!!!!

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 (coming soon)

The sun hadn’t even come out when you left the tower earlier. Now it was high and burning the skin on your face, forcing you to squint your eyes and shield them with your hand.

As you got back to the Tower’s surroundings, you slowed down the frenetic rhythm of your running and the twitch in the pit your stomach made a reappearance. Not surprising at all, you hadn’t been able to go back to sleep the night before. How could you, when your mind insisted on replaying that heart-wrenching scene? When the foolish part of yourself still hoped that he would at least try to go back to your bedroom and explain that it was all some kind of misunderstanding? But of course it never happened and the door remained locked.

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’ You think you know a story, but you only know how it ends. ’
’ To get to the heart of the story, you have to go back to the beginning. ’
’ I cannot disguise my distress and unhappiness. ’
’ Well, you’re going to have to. ’
’ What about his legs? Are his calves strong like mine? ’
’ Some people might think so. He certainly thinks so himself. ’
’ Your Majesty… he’s French! ’
’ As a humanist I have an abhorrence of war. ’
’ It’s an activity fit only for beasts yet practiced by no kind of beasts so constantly as by man. ’
’ As a humanist I share your opinion. As a King, I’m forced to disagree. ’
’ You should know, you taught me. ’
’ Do you really think we should go to war? ’
’ I think we should try to do as the King wants us to do. ’
’ What if the King doesn’t know what’s in his best interests? ’
’ Because he endowed Universities? ’
’ That victory made him famous. It made him immortal! ’
’ There’s something deep and dangerous in you. ’
’ Those eyes of yours are like dark hooks for the soul. ’
’ You must be prepared to give him the thing you most care for. ’
’ The thing I care for most is my integrity. ’
’ Do you see that young woman over there? Dressed in purple and gold? ’
’ After all, I am merely Your Majesty’s humble servant! ’
’ That would make me very happy. ’
’ Well, do you like it? ’
’ Should I like something that accuses me of being cruel? ’
’ Am I? You have no claim on me. ’
’ I have the same claim as every other lover. ’
’ You are a poet as I am a woman. ’
’ Poets and women are always free with their hearts, are they not? ’
’ You give us no choice but to attack and breach your defenses! ’
’ No knight shall ever breach mine. ’
’ What we lack in men, we can more than make up for in ships. ’
’ We are in an island race, Cardinal. ’
’ We have the best and bravest sailors in the world. ’
’ Your highness must be looking forward with great anticipation to your wedding? ’
’ I hear the king was a great horseman… in his time. ’
’ Don’t tease me. I don’t like it. ’
’ Will you like it when an old man tries to make love to you? ’
’ Your grace goes too far. Already. ’
’ Now you are blasphemous! ’
’ Gospel says the truth will make you free. ’
’ Your Grace, we shall drop our truth into the scales… and the scales will fall. ’
’ I write poems, I don’t know how to be “a poet”. ’
’ My Lord, I don’t know what to say. ’
’ Of course I loved her, but from a distance. ’
’ I ask myself why that should be so. ’
’ Your Majesty, I’m certain he will rule in your favour. ’
’ How dare you look at me! I am your Lord and Master, not your brother! ’
’ You are both banished from court. ’
’ You will remove yourself from my sight. Do you understand? ’
’ I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter. ’
’ I don’t think the English people would ever forgive him! ’
’ I promise, I’ll take you as my only mistress. ’
’ I won’t have a thought or an affection for anyone else. ’
’ Look, I don’t mean he is banished forever. ’
’ I don’t mean he is banished forever. Just as long as he breathes. ’
’ You’re going away, why? ’
’ Must you go? ’
’ We little people must put our hands into the fire if invited to. ’
’ Forgive me, I spoke of things I should not. ’
’ For me, that is the true definition of love. ’
’ I have an audience with His Majesty? ’
’ Well, the King is plainly in love with you. ’
’ What would a silly girl like you have to say to a king? ’
’ How do you like your charge, sweetheart? ’
’ It is your duty to use his love to our advantage. ’
’ Diplomacy is nearly always settled by such proximity. ’
’ I do not sleep with her. Not whilst you and I are still married. ’
’ Ah! Your Excellence, allow me to introduce… ’
’ Someone told me taking infusions was the worst thing. ’
’ I didn’t see all of his game. Now I do. I despise him. ’
’ I do believe you love as well and deeply… as any man. ’
’ Your love is most generous where it is most hurtful. ’
’ Your Majesty, I beg that you yield to the King’s will. ’
’ You speak to me of chastity. ’
’ Have you not a mistress and two children, Your Eminence? ’
’ I could be seen to be acting against her conjugal rights. ’
’ You think it’s nothing, to go back to bed with your wife? ’
’ What do you think is going to happen? ’
’ Let me make certain things plain to you. ’
’ It would mean the total ruin of the kingdom. ’
’ I hear you’ve been unwell? Is it true? ’
’ Majesty, when was I ever unwell enough not to serve you? ’
’ Have you no kind things to say? ’
’ You treat me so unkindly and in public neglect me. ’
’ The weight of academic opinion is against us. ’
’ I don’t think anything, but I imagine everything. ’
’ Do you… do you have a message from the King? ’
’ You hate him like a scorpion. And why? ’
’ Madam, you should never presume… ’
’ You should not abuse the Queen’s honor with such language! ’
’ Your Majesty must forgive me… ’
’ I would rather see her hanged than acknowledge her as my mistress! ’
’ Aren’t you supposed to be running the country? ’
’ They’re all liars, hypocrites and middle-aged men. ’
’ Would you prefer them to be women? ’
’ Have I made you unhappy? ’
’ I would only be unhappy if you ever stopped loving me. ’
’ Madame, I pray you, don’t give way. ’
’ No excellency, I shall never give way. ’
’ I notice you allow yourself none of the trappings of your great office. ’
’ Now, my love, let me conceive… and we will have a son. ’
’ Can you not plead some indisposition? ’
’ And then, I should be genuinely indisposed! ’
’ It’s a pretty head in any case, and I don’t want to lose it either. ’
’ Perhaps, one day this little girl will preside over empires. ’
’ I’m not heartless, whatever some people think- quite the contrary. ’
’ I could still do it. I could find a way to poison her. ’
’ But, why should anyone ever know? ’
’ No I wouldn’t. I’d die amartyr's death. ’
’ You understand? You don’t act alone. ’
’ You’ve never even seen a man being tortured, have you? ’
’ I’m sure we both know the object that has brought us together. ’
’ Will you take the Oath? ’

I start to regret everything that happened in January. I don’t want them anymore. You can keep all the memories, if it were even worth remembering for you—but do me a favor and please please please don’t get them mixed up with your other girls’.

This is all the goodbye I should’ve meant. The jealously are worth nothing. Go ahead and love her and watch me watch you unflinching. Let’s just highlight the whole pages and marked them nonsense. I had to admit I still try to find us sometimes in the ripped papers. [noted that it is ripped. noted that I shoved it down the fire now]

I start writing poetry again and I can listen to those songs now. I won’t let you ruin my favorite song. I won’t let you ruin this safe heaven. This is where I learn to put myself above the idea of you / of letting you go / of wishing you would just fucking come back. This where I stop romanticizing pain. This is where I stop scrubbing my skin with glass to dug you up. This to say: I let you hurt me—that shouldn’t have happened. I start to be honest to myself: you don’t love me. you left. that isn’t really the end of the world.

I stop praying for you lately. Go smoke all your feelings and then see me putting my care to some other people. He keep telling me wait till April. Wait till April. And I kept screaming WHAT? AND THEN WATCH HIM LEAVE? WATCH HIM GOT ME UNDONE AGAIN? WATCH ME TELL MYSELF: SEE? I TOLD YOU SO

This is in which she admits all her poetry is about you;
in which she understands why she must
let go

and in which she knows sometimes writing poetry and letting go
is the same thing.

Summer Boy|| Jeon Jungkook pt.07

{pt.01, pt.02, pt.03, pt.04, pt.05, pt.06}

Jungkook x reader


Word Count: 4,883

~ Yes! This is the final chapter of Summer Boy. I just wanted to take a moment, once again, to thank anybody and everybody who had followed the story all the way to the end. You’re support has really pushed me into finishing the story, so thank you very much. Enjoy ♡


“(Y/n)! Please wait!”

I grabbed what I could find of my clothing, it was difficult with the tears in my eyes and my shaking hands. With only my denim shorts on and the rest of my clothes pressed against my naked chest. Jungkook stood in front of me, trying to get my attention but I was desperate to run. I moved away as he tried to touch my shoulder and I walked around him with unclear words leaving my mouth. I went to reach for the door as he called out for me from behind but I was startled to see the door open by Taehyung. He was taken aback with shock as I pushed gently by passing him.

  “I just have to go.”


I woke up the next afternoon in my own bedroom. Embarrassed completely by the events of last night, I had made a total fool of myself in front of everybody. I had gotten straight home and into bed, my phone laid next to me dead and I got dressed as I put it to charge. I was lost in thought replaying the night in my head when I came to realize that the house was dead silent. I know it had to be at least 11 am and yet not a single noise could be heard in the house.

I stepped out of my room, going from wood to the cold tile on my feet, I looked down the hall into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone being there but the faint smell of breakfast from probably hours ago. There were eggs on a plate with a slice of bread already cold that they must have left me. I had no appetite regardless, picked up the plate to clean it up. I suddenly remembered Coco agreeing to help the boys pack up last night during the cookout. The rest of the girls must have gone along to help. I was making my way back into my room when the back door opened loudly behind me


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Have you ever wondered what you’d do in a stressful situation? If you saw something terrible, how you’d handle it? As the clock strikes 12:03am I am so thankful yesterday is over, as yesterday I found out. 

Ashley, Angela and I had spent the day together wondering the ravines of Toronto. We scooped up nearly 20,000 steps searching for salmon heading upstream to lay their eggs this season. It was a gorgeous September day with the sun shining and a light breeze.  We had laughed and walked and admired how green everything was (except for the few orange trees!).   We even met a 92 year old lady who spoke to us for a while about how she bought her house for $25,000 (today it’s well over $3mil!), and the life she’s had. She said the secret to success was “make love, not war, and if you can’t make love, remember you have a right hand!” She was a hoot to say the least. 

As our feet started to hurt we then headed back to the closest subway station to head home.  We were standing just inside the doors of the station, when we heard something loud outside, and a terrible scream.  

We looked outside and saw a streetcar. I looked at the people’s faces on the streetcar and knew something was wrong. Then I saw the driver’s face and my heart sank. He was in shock and crying and shaking.  

There was no one in front of the street car though, so suddenly I thought omg he must have hit a dog, and the dog must be under it. Heart already broken I ducked down nervously to see if it was alive, when I then saw a hand. 

The next few minutes are awfully blurry to me. I remember yelling call 911, only to realize we were the only people right there, and I was clutching my phone, so I did. I then scrambled to the streetcar and crawled as far under as I could. 

It was a girl about my age under there.  I can’t really remember what happened but I held her hand and told her my name was Elizabeth. I was also talking to 911 at the same time telling them to send an ambulance, but trying to be quiet when I said, there’s a girl trapped under a streetcar, please send an ambulance! as I didn’t want to scare her. 

There was blood coming from the back of her head and a little from her mouth. I kept checking to see if she was breathing. Kept talking to her and asked her to questions (she never answered any) and to squeeze my hand (which she did). I’m pretty sure I learnt this from TV - not to let someone who’s been hurt shut their eyes. Every time she did I’d panic, but then she’d reopen them thankfully.

Her eyes were a beautiful blue. Even now, hours later, it’s her blue eyes sketched into my memory that I remember the best.  She couldn’t talk so I started to tell her about my day. I’m Elizabeth and I was just heading home from a walk with my friends. Can you squeeze my hand? (she did) My friends and I went to find salmon. They migrate upstream in the fall to lay their eggs, and it’s cool to see them go up rapids and rocks.  Can you squeeze my hand? (she did)  It looks like you do yoga (she was in yoga clothes, and there was a pink water bottle next to her) I should do yoga more. I’m super inflexible, but then again I tell myself that I’ll do a lot of things.  It’s a beautiful day today. It’s Saturday. Can you squeeze my hand? (she did)  Help is on the way…

I don’t have a sense of how long, but was told it was about 15 minutes until the emergency services arrived.  I also remember people trying to lift up the streetcar to get her out (which was horrible to feel it lift, and then fall back down). And at one point a hand came under the streetcar holding a phone asking if it was hers (!!! ugh. who cared!)

Eventually a fireman asked me to step back. I returned to Ashley and Angela and then started crying. We watched the emergency crews add a brace to her head, pull her out, and put on a stretcher and then into an ambulance.

The news reports currently say she’s in “serious” condition, which I’m thankful for (as it’s not critical). I keep thinking of her eyes. And I keep thinking about how her family and friends must have got terrible phone calls.  I didn’t see it happen, so I don’t know how she get pulled under like that, but with all my heart this evening I pray and hope that she’ll be okay.  So on the off chance someone in Toronto knows a Jessica who was in this incident, please let her know the crazy girl under there with her is thinking about her.  ♥

(I also don’t write this post to get praise at all, as it did come natural to me, but had you asked me last week what I’d do, I’m certain I would have said nothing. So you really never know how you’ll respond until it’s happening right then and there.) 

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Thirteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC  |  Word Count: 5902
Warnings: smexy, swearing, angst and heartbreak

Lauren stared at the change in the pendant around her neck with awe. Towel wrapped tightly around her, she touched the web of intricately laced branches which now rested where once the delicate chain had. It was only about an inch wide, maybe two where the branches fell to a point beneath the pendant, surrounding it as if to highlight the golden rectangle. It was exquisite, like nothing she’d ever seen before, but she wasn’t so foolish not to realize there was more going on here than a simple gift.

“Loki, explain this to me?” she tapped it gently with her nail.

He appeared behind her in the mirror, chest bare, towel riding low at his waist. The smile he wore was simply sinful as was the look in his eyes when he peered at her through the glass. Tapered fingers landed ever so gently on the delicate gold filigree, tracing the design with care.

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Kings and Queens {Chapter 15}

Summary: A Throne of Glass AU inspired by the Breakfast Club (1985). Five students come together for Saturday detention, and realize they are not all that different. You can read previous chapters here.

Author’s Note: Our story has come to an end. An epilogue will be posted soon, but this is the last chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed this story as it wraps up. I would love to know what you think! :) Thank you for reading, friends. 


2:30 p.m.

My lips were numb.

Lysandra tasted of coffee and smoke, a flavor I didn’t know I craved until I spent an hour pressing my mouth against hers. Aelin and Rowan had gone off while Dorian was hard at work on the essay we had to turn in to Maeve at the end of the day, and I had poured my heart out to her. She had her doubts, and I understood, but I couldn’t walk away without the girl I had spent so long pining after, thinking she was too good to be true.

But she wasn’t. She was real. And she was there, with me, leaning her head against my shoulder and doodling in her notebook.

“Come to my party tonight.”

The pencil being held strategically in between her fingers halted. “Tonight?”

“Yeah,” I replied, casually. “You should come. Stay with me for a little bit…”

She wouldn’t look at me, but I could see the wheels turning. “I don’t know.”

I nodded, trying not to push too hard, trying not to sound too eager. “Come whenever. The house will be full, but I’ll most likely be on the porch or in the backyard. If you don’t want to come to the party, you could come after. Or before. Or tomorrow. Or –“

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Bowling date

Characters: Jeongguk & You 

Genre: fluff fluff fluff (i was supposed to write something else but watching his vlive distracted me and apparently i haven’t written fluff with him before)

Words: 2422

Summary: Jungkook is trying to be cool but fails (because he’s too cute for his own good) featuring you trying to impress him with you non-existing bowling skills.

Originally posted by jjks

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anonymous asked:

I'd love to see anything from Jenny's POV from when Claire and Jaime first came to Lallybroch.

The Trollop and a Damned Fool

She was constantly looking around her skirts and shifting the basket of laundry from one hip to the other in an effort to keep from stepping on her son. He giggled finding it a fun game to play. The child in her womb seemed eager to join his brother’s fun and repeatedly kicked her in the side. Jenny was about ready to have the child out if only so she could see her feet again and stop worrying about tripping over things. It would be a year or more before he’d be a suitable playmate for his older brother and she’d be left in relative peace to her daily chores. How her own mother had managed Willie before she and Jamie came along, she’d never know.

She watched her son as he ran ahead around the corner of the house and into the main yard. She called after him but got no response. He looked more like her, like Ian but he certainly had a flair for mischief that put her in mind of his namesake more often than not. Lord, that she and Ian would be spared the worst of what Jamie had put their parents through––no, not their parents so much as her. Their father had to watch what the English did to Jamie but he hadn’t had to endure the waiting and the not knowing the way she had. Her brother hadn’t even come all the way home to Lallybroch with Ian after the injury that took his leg in France. His trunk had arrived from Leoch a few days earlier and they didn’t know if he’d sent it for safe keeping or if it had simply been passed along because he was dead––she wanted to think that her uncles would have written something if that were the case so she continued to hope for the best. 

Jenny turned the corner into the yard and forced herself to look at the stone archway. It was where she nearly always saw her brother as she had last seen him, his arms raised and pulled by ropes to a point that must have been painful, his back bare and streaked with red stripes from where Captain Randall had lashed him with the horse whip. On bad days she saw Jamie’s head hanging forward, limp, and the strain in his shoulders from having passed out after Randall’s blow to his head. 

This time though, Jamie was standing in the archway with a horse beside him, his shirt and jacket on and a quiet smile on his face as he looked at something in the yard. Then he spotted her. His smile flashed bright for a moment and it was enough to give Jenny a jolt, to have her throw down the basket of laundry and lift her skirts enough to waddle over as fast as her ungainly body would allow. Even as she threw her arms around him and breathed in the stink of sweat and dust and horse, she had a difficult time believing it was really him. 

Holding him and holding back tears, Jenny was aware of someone else in the yard with them, of a stiffness in Jamie. She pulled back and smiled at him, glanced over her shoulder to where his gaze had drifted a moment before.

There was a woman with him. Her dark, curly hair was loose about her shoulders and she was swathed in Jamie’s plaid. The young boy had been distracted by the pretty stranger and her attention to him, but seeing his mother’s reaction to the taller, broader stranger, he abandoned the woman to investigate and be closer to Jenny’s reassuring presence.

Though Jenny was inclined to cry or scold her brother for his long absence, for her son’s sake she kept her tone light and teasing. 

“Four years and no word.” She knew Jamie would understand what she was getting after, would apologize and explain. 

He looked about to speak but glancing down at the boy, he stopped.

“This is my wee Jamie,” she told him, taking her son’s hand and giving it a playful squeeze. The lad was grinning with curiosity and self-importance over the introduction but remained quiet. “This is your uncle, mo chridhe,” she said. “The one you were named after.”

Wee Jamie remained shy while the older Jamie was less than amused.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why would ye name him after me?”

A niggling fear began to squirm in her stomach beside the wriggling bairn. 

“What’s wrong, a graidh? Are you ill?” She meant it to be teasing but the pain of disappointment was working its way into her bones. Four years she’d waited and prayed for Jamie to come home, to have more than just out-dated scraps of gossip about how he fared. Four years of yearning to see him safe and whole with her own eyes. And he couldn’t let her enjoy it for five minutes. 

“Did ye not think I’d suffered enough for what I let happen, that… ye must name Randall’s bastard after me…”

That word and the way he looked at her son––the disgust and the shame… She remembered the fear and the joy of carrying the lad, the uncertainty and doubt as she tried to remember her mother carrying Jamie but only really remembering the details of that last fatal pregnancy and delivery. She remembered the relief and the joy of holding her baby for the first time and knowing they’d both live.

“…to be a reproach as long as I live?”

“Randall’s bastard? Jack Randall, ye mean, the Redcoat captain?” she clarified.

She needed to get the lad away. She was afraid she’d throttle her brother then and there and if she did, it wasn’t something she wanted him to see. He’d already heard more than he should. 

“Go find Mrs. Crook my wee man,” she told him. Young Jamie dutifully ran off, perhaps sensing what was coming. 

“Correct me, brother, if I’m wrong,” Jenny began, easily slipping into the tone of authority she’d started using with him even before their mother’s death. “But I’ve a strong impression you’re saying that I played the hoor to Captain Randall.”

Jamie didn’t heed her tone, just kept barrelling forward carried by his wave of misplaced shame and anger.

“I’d rather I was dead in my grave than see my sister brought to such…” 

If he wished he was dead just then, Jenny was starting to feel more than happy to oblige. She thought of all the nights she’d prayed for him, for his safety; all the nights she wondered what it was that kept him away. She struggled to remember that feeling of worry and concern and used it to keep herself from reaching out and wringing his neck as he continued with a nod to her belly.

“And whose is this one? To have ye ruin yerself for me was shame enough but… another one?”

Jenny felt the bairn kick hard, making its offense known.

“With no father to give him a name. We shouldn’t have come,” he told the woman who looked taken aback by Jamie’s anger––though not entirely surprised. 

The woman spoke up then, the first Jenny had truly heard her and the sound of her voice made Jenny’s blood boil over––she was English.

“Jamie, perhaps we should all go inside––”

“Tell that trollop to keep her neb out of my business,” Jenny burst. She would not be told what to do by anyone English, especially not where it concerned her own home. What was Jamie thinking, bringing her here?

“She’s my wife and ye’ll speak of her with respect,” Jamie scolded, even more infuriated.

Jamie had married––he had married and still sent no word. Though, marrying an Englishwoman, perhaps he’d thought better of it. After all the English had done to him, to their family…

“Jamie, please,” his wife pled.

Jamie turned to leave and Jenny saw him walking away, passing through the gate and this time and never coming back. She couldn’t bear the thought––not as much for herself as for their father, who had followed Jamie to Fort William for Jamie and come back irreparably broken, and Jamie hadn’t even seen his grave yet. She impulsively reached out and grabbed Jamie’s arm causing him to spin around in a fury. 

“Do I have to do what I did when we were bairns?” Jenny challenged. “Grab ye by the bollocks to make you stand still and listen to me?”

“Are you now trying to shame me in front of my own wife?” he sneered.

Who was he trying to impress with his absurd display?

“Well if she’s yer wife I imagine she’s more familiar with yer balls than I am.”

That shocked him into silence long enough for her to give him a proper scolding.

“Don’t test me, brother,” she warned, crossing her arms and resting them on the swell of her belly. She took a deep, shuddering breath summoning with it the fear and worry that had lived in her every day since he’d left. It was the only way to keep the anger from taking over completely. “Last I saw you… bloodied and broken, strung up by yer wrists in that archway and then leaving me to think ye’re dead or certain never to return again and this is how ye come home?”

She heard the steady beat of Ian’s approach and it helped to cool her anger but also cemented the hurt of her brother’s words.

“Whose child is the boy?” Jamie demanded.

“Mine,” Ian spoke up with pride and amusement––damn him. “And that one too.”

The change in Jamie’s face was immediate. He would believe his childhood friend in a heartbeat but otherwise was more than willing to think the worst of her? Would argue and talk over her and haver with no intention of listening to anything she had to say?


“Yer brother-in-law,” Jenny said with a glare of resentment.

“It’s good to see ye, Jamie,” Ian said. “Ye always knew how to make an entrance.” Ian gave her a brief glance to be sure she was all right, took in the set of her jaw and arms, and smiled more broadly to Jamie but Jenny could see his concern for her underneath it all. “We thought ye were dead until we received yer chest from Castle Leoch.” It was said gently but Jamie wouldn’t miss Ian’s reproach.

Jamie gave Jenny a brief look like he was finally seeing her rather than whoever it was he’d been arguing with moments before. It wasn’t sheepish or apologetic enough for Jenny with so many varieties of hurt still so close to the surface. Jamie turned back to Ian, smiling and laughing and ready for a welcoming brotherly embrace. 

“And this would be…?” Ian nodded to the woman standing off to Jenny’s side.

“The trollop,” the woman retorted. “Otherwise known as Claire Fraser.”

With those formal introductions out of the way and Ian’s gentle assertion of the truth, Jamie finally turned to Jenny again, ready to offer an apology. Too little, too late.

“Jenny… I–I’m…”

“A damned fool,” she answered for him. “And no a day wiser in four years.”

She needed to get away. She didn’t want that Englishwoman––her sister-in-law––staring at her and judging her. She needed to recover and rest after that scene in the yard. And to let Mrs. Crook know they’d be needing more for supper and that room would need to be found for the Laird and his Lady… 

Without another word, Jenny turned and went back to the house, leaving the discarded laundry basket on the ground for someone else to retrieve––she didn’t need to be bending over in her condition.

Once inside, she didn’t head to the kitchen or seek out any of the maids. She found her steps taking her to the study. 

It had once been their father’s and Ian had been using it in Jamie’s prolonged absence. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it before finally bursting into tears––of relief, of anger, of frustration and hurt.

Jamie was finally home. 

Part Six: A Prior Engagement

You can find previous installments here.

L’Orphelinat et L’Hôpital des Anges, Edinburgh, Scotland.

A noise caught my attention as I wandered aimlessly about the garden.

“We have to see her!” My heart dropped to my toes as I realized it was Willie Fraser’s voice, “Will you tell her we’re here, please?”

I heard echoes of “please” as all the children chimed in. A wave of pain washed over me as I pressed my face against the cold stone wall that separated us. They’d be at the gate, having been greeted by one of the sisters.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, children,” Sister Margaret’s gentle tone was my undoing. I slid to the ground, burying my face in my knees as the children I so treasured begged to see me.

“Oh, but you’ve got to!” Ellen exclaimed, her determination so like her father’s. “We have to speak to her.”

“She’s our nanny,” Marsali explained.

Joan piping in, “We want her back!”

We want her back.

“I’m so very sorry, but Claire is in seclusion. She won’t see anyone.”

“She’ll see us!” Jenny was adamant, “I know she will!”

There was a pause and I heard Maggie mournfully beseech, “I want to show her my finger.”

The precious darling has hurt herself and you’re the one she wants to see, Beauchamp. You’re the one she wants to make it all better. Not her father, not her housekeeper, you.

But I couldn’t make it better. I couldn’t even make it remotely better. All I could do is make things worse.

With that thought, I rose and ran from the garden, leaving the chorus of petitions to see me in the dust.

Mother Hildegard smiled compassionately at me, tucking a wayward curl behind my ear. “You’ve been unhappy, Claire, and I’m sorry for it.”

I weakly attempted a smile in return, but I knew she would see right thru it. She was the closest thing I had to a mother and she often seemed to know be better than I knew myself.

“Why did they send you back to us?” The question held only a suggestion of reproach.

“They didn’t,” I turned to look out the window, avoiding her gaze. “I left.”

A tender hand cupped my cheek and turned my face, “Look at me, ma chère. Tell me what happened.”

Tears threatened to spill for the millionth time today as I began, “I was frightened.”

“Were they unkind to you?” she bristled.

“Oh, no!” I hurried to explain, “No, not at all. It’s just that I was — I was confused. I felt like — I’ve never felt that way before, Mother Hildegard…” I swallowed hard before continuing, “I couldn’t stay and I knew that if I came back here, I’d be away from it. I would be safe here.”

She shook her head, well aware of my flight-over-fight tendencies. “Running from your problems will not solve them, Claire, it only makes them grow. What is it that you feel you cannot face?”

Jamie’s face swam into view as my tears dripped off the end of my nose.

“I can’t face him again.”

The Reverend Mother’s eyes slid shut a moment as a small smile graced her lips, “Ah, I see. The Captain, yes?”

I nodded, accepting the tissue she offered.

“Are you in love with him, ma chère?”

The word love sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, clenching the muscles of my lower abdomen, and made me want to run for the hills.

“I don’t know!” I sobbed, “I don’t know! Lady Dunsaney told me— she said that I was and — and that he was in love with me, but I didn’t want to believe it. There were times when I would — when I looked at him, I could hardly breathe!”

Her weathered hand took mine, “Did you let him see how you felt?”

I shrugged, sniffing, “If I did, I didn’t know it. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t stand to be near him and know that he was promised to another, but here I can! I can forget about him and how he made me feel. I can work with you, here at the hospital, and do what I know I was made to do!”

“Ma chère, you were made with a great capacity to love, it is what enables you to be such a wonderful nurse,” she gripped my hand tightly, “but you must find out how God wants you to spend your love. You must go back.”

All of the air seemed to leave my lungs in a great whoosh.

“No! You can’t ask me to do that! Please, let me stay!”

“You have to face your problems, Claire,” she pulled me into her arms. “You know we will all be praying for you and that God will be with you as you go. He’ll never leave, nor forsake you, ma chère, but you have to live the life that you were born to live.”

Lallybroch, Scotland.

“You left without saying goodbye,” Jamie’s eyes were fathomless blue depths, iced over with hurt and betrayal, “even to the children.

I flinched, “I know. Forgive me?”

He tilted his head, studying me with furrowed brows, “Why did you?”

“Please don’t ask me that,” my heart leapt into my throat. “Besides, the reason no longer exists.”

One eyebrow arched in question, his mouth opening to speak, but was interrupted as Lady Geneva walked onto the veranda.

“Nurse Claire, you’ve returned! Isn’t it wonderful, James?” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, patting it possessively.

A cold fist tightened around my heart as I spoke the words I had mentally rehearsed, “I wish you every happiness, Lady Dunsaney, and you too, Captain. The children tell me you’re going to be married.”

“Thank you, my dear,” she smugly replied.

I nodded to the both of them and turned, making my way to the door where the children had just exited.

You’ve done it, Beauchamp. Now just keep walking. The worst is behind you.

My heart stopped all together as the Captain asked, “You’re back to stay, aye?”

Don’t let him see it, Beauchamp.

I straightened my shoulders and turned to look over my shoulder at the two of them.

“Only until you find another nanny.”

Unable to sleep and unable to stay within the walls of the house, I made my way to the back garden. It was a secluded little spot, not visible from any of the bedrooms, and I knew I would have the privacy I needed to sort thru the events of the day. Brushing a few dried leaves off a wooden bench, I sat and let my tears run freely.

“Hello,” a sudden voice sounded behind me, spoken by the last person in the world I wanted to see right now, and it made me jump. “I thought I might find ye here.”

I hastily brushed the sleeve of my shirt across my eyes, swallowing hard before asking, “Was there something you wanted?”

He walked around the bench, stopping to stand at the other end, and waved my offer away, “Nae, no’ at all. Mind if I join ye?”

Mind? Of course, I mind, you bloody Scot.

I was thankful for the darkness. It not only hid my tears, but the near mutinous look I gave him. He took my lack of answer as an invitation and sat less than an arm’s length away from me. Warmth rushed to my cheeks as I realized how magnificent he looked in the moonlight.

You’re hopeless, Beauchamp, absolutely hopeless.

“I — ah — was thinking, ye ken —” he stammered, breaking the awkward silence, “an’ I was wondering — about two things, really —”

I looked at him, noticing that his brogue became more pronounced when he was flustered, and realizing that he was more than a little uncomfortable. As if he felt my eyes on him, he turned to face me as well.

Our gazes met and, for the life of me, I couldn’t look away.

“Why did ye leave?” He asked, his voice low. “And what was it tha’ made ye come back?”

I left because I loved you and I came back to see if the feeling was mutual.

Instead, I answered, “I have an obligation to fulfill and I came back to fulfill it.”

“Mhmm,” came his reflexive Scottish reply, his eyes seeing right thru me, “Is tha’ all?”


“And I missed the children,” I blurted.

Well, while that wasn’t all of it, it certainly wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, aye, but — ah — only the children? I was hoping that ye — ah — perhaps ye might — well—” his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “‘tis just that nothin’ was the same when ye were away and all will be wrong again after ye leave, an’ — I thought — maybe — ye could change your mind?”

He’s asking me to stay.

I reflexively stood and backed away from the bench, words that I didn’t mean tumbling out of my mouth, “I’m sure Lady Dunsaney will be able to set things right for you.”

Jamie stood as well, shaking his head and closing the distance between us, “Please, let me–”

“Good night, Captain,” I interrupted him and turned, praying he’d let me walk away.


I froze.

He’d never called me by name. I was always Nurse Claire or Mistress Claire or even just Nurse, but never Claire, and never like that.

“The engagement is off, Claire. I canna mary Geneva when I’m in love wi’ you.”

I couldn’t move or speak as Jamie came to stand in front of me.

Tha gaol agam ort, mo nighean donn.

“What did you say?” I asked, feeling rather breathless.

“I said I love you.” He reached for my hand and I let him take it. Sliding my fingers between his, I leaned into him. His other arm came around me as he held me close.

“Do you ken the first moment I fell in love wi’ ye?” The question vibrated thru his chest cavity, sending shock waves all the way down to my toes. I tipped my head to look up at him and he smiled, “‘Twas when ye sat on that wee pine-cone at dinner.”

“I think mine was when you blew that silly whistle,” I admitted.

I heard his breath catch before he whispered, “Then ye feel the same?”

“Yes,” I answered, in that same, hushed tone.

Jamie’s face softened, taking on a gentleness that I had never seen before.

“I would verra much like to kiss ye, Claire,” Jamie’s hand moved to cup my cheek, “may I?”

“Please,” I begged.

He lowered his lips to mine and I melted into him.

Wrapping my arms about his neck, I tangled my fingers in his curls. Jamie began to break away much before I was ready and I stood on tiptoe, moving with him, silently imploring him to continue. A warmth welled up within me as he responded by pulling me tighter against him, his hand moving to my lower back.

We came up for air, at length, and stood grinning at each other like school children.

“I love you, James Fraser.”

I had been convinced all day that today was the day Jamie was going to propose to me.

Every moment had been full of beautifully orchestrated opportunities: a leisurely stroll thru Lallybroch’s extensive gardens, tea for two at a cozy little cafe in Broch Mordha, a scenic drive to Inverness where we window-shopped and dreamed of a future together.

But the moment I knew without a doubt that something was afoot was when he insisted on buying me the dress I had fallen in love with. He’d even convinced me to change into it there at the boutique. Jamie casually mentioned that he’d been meaning to try the restaurant across the street, asking if I was hungry for dinner, while I was behind the closed door of the dressing room. Then he grinned like the proverbial cat who had swallowed the canary as we sat down at our private table.

And, yet, the question remained unasked.

The meal had ended and we were now back in the car. I couldn’t help but feel a little miffed as we rode in almost silence. It wasn’t quite dark yet as we pulled into the drive, but the manor house was alight, every window gleaming. There were white lights twinkling in every shrubbery and the front door stood open, beckoning us in with a pathway of strewn flower petals.

Jamie offered his hand as he opened my door, inquiring, “Ready?”

This was it.

“Yes,” I whispered.

We climbed front steps together and stepped over the threshold in tandem. I could hear Maggie’s giggle from the entryway, followed by whirlwind of “shh”s from her siblings. I squeezed Jamie’s hand and he squeezed mine right back. After walking thru the second set of doors, we could now see what all the commotion was about.

There, standing at attention in perfect spacing, were all of the children. Each of them held a sort of placard with a letter on it. It took me only a moment to realize that it spelled:


My hand flew to my mouth, but I was unable to contain my wordless exclamation of joy.

“And… switch!” Ellen commanded.

All at once, they turned their cards over, revealing:


I laughed as Marsali quickly yanked Joan to her side and Maggie followed, closing the gap that had been the space between the first two words.

Jamie moved beside me, going down on one knee. He took a small, black box out of his pocket and opened it. I wasn’t sure if it was my tears or the refraction of the chandelier’s light that made the diamond shimmer and gleam.

“Will ye, Claire?”

Finding words impossible, I nodded and pulled him to his feet. Time stood still as I kissed him, my heart taking in every detail of the moment.

The deep, masculine scent of his cologne.

The feel of his lips against mine.

The rush of the children as they crowded around us, each expressing their utmost happiness over my answer.

The look in his eyes as he pulled away, every thundering heartbeat echoing my promise of undying love.


the-one-and-only-socioflower  asked:

Prompt: Senpai catches you with blood on your hands near a dead body and you have to lie your way out of it

Ayano’s face was pale.

Senpai looked horrified.

The body near her was quite obviously murdered. The crimson on the teen’s hands made her want to cry. Why did it have to end like this?


“I-It wasn’t m-my fault.” Ayano muttered and she stepped away from the man before her.

“Y-You monster!” Senpai yelled at her.

She flinched,“L-Let me explain…”

Her mind was on overdrive.

Then an idea struck her.

“S-She attacked me…” She hung her head and started to sniffle,“I-I didn’t mean t-to hurt her, I-I just tried to get away and-”

She was cut of by her own crying. She didn’t look at Senpai. She was only praying that he was taking the lies she was feeding him.

She wouldn’t ever lie to her Senpai but this was a circumstance in which she must.

She finally looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Senpai was….

He was comforting her?

The words didn’t reach her ears though.

Her mind was more focused on the relief of not loosing the one she loved.

The Contest-Part 30

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest.  They are doing open casting calls all over the country.  Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.

A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only Red, AKA @oriona75.  So I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s.  It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Mark Pellegrino, Rory Montgomery (OC), PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Gemini’s POV

Dean looked like someone had just hit him with a sledgehammer.  “Your pregnant? But how……..?”

“If you don’t know where babies come from by now, Dean Winchester than you need to ask your mother.  I sure as hell am NOT having that conversation with you!” I said with a grin.

He glared at me and I chuckled. “Very funny, Gem! Are you sure?”

“I took three tests, Dean. I’m pretty damn sure.” I said quickly

He looked over at Sam.  “How do you feel about this, Sammy?”

He smiled at me and put his huge hand on my stomach.  “The woman I love, my soulmate, is gonna have my son.  And he’s gonna save the world from Lucifer.  How do you think I feel, Dean? I’m terrified.”

“Well, I for one am thrilled! I’m going to be a grandmother! My baby is having a baby!” Mary pulled Sam into a hug and she was laughing and crying at the same time.  “I just wish John could see this.  He would have been so excited to be a grandfather. The next generation of Winchester.”

“I wish my brother was going to be around.  Leo would have been really excited to be an uncle.  If he hadn’t sold his soul to save me, Rowena wouldn’t have me for a vessel, and none of this would even be remotely possible.”

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(NOT my gif/s)(NOT my characters except reader)

Pairings: Bucky (Demon!Bucky) x Reader

Summary; AU- Sorcery it’s a farce. At least that’s what you thought before your little sister, Wanda, found an old magic book and decide to try a spell so his crush fell in love with her. To your atonishment and hers the spell works and now she has to face the drawback; she has sold her soul to a demon called Bucky in exchange the favor. Now, you are forced to intervene and reach an agreement with said demon.

Warnings: Language, a little violence, dead (flasback), angels, demons and all kind of religious stuff.

A/N; I’m incredibly sorry for the delay. Anyway, hope you hate Dot as much as I do xd .Oh! And the tags are being stupid little b#tches, please if someone doesn’t receive my notifications, let me know.

Tags;  @bexboo616 @minaphobia @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x  @hollycornish  @jenn0755  @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes  @cry-me-a-fkin-river  @starstar1012  @okayish-url  @imsunnysu  (tags are open!)

Chapter1   Chapter2   Chapter3  Chapter4  Chapter5  Chapter6  Chapter7  Chapter8

Chapter 9

You have no clue how much time passes while you stare at the white wall of your home, neither how much time Steve looked at you without saying a word. The tears had dryed from your cheeks but the pain in your chest hasn’t stopped, you can tell that it will never. Numbed you look at Steve, who winces when your gazes cross, you don’t wanna know how horrible do you look for him to react that way, you don’t care. 

- Why? - you whisper 

- It’s not his fault… - Steve straighten up from his half lying position, whining because of the pain on his side. You can tell, but, that he’s healing extremelly fast - He don’t have any choice

- He didn’t even let me explain! - tears burn in your eyes again

Steve let out a deep sigh, defeated

- I should have explained you everything before…

- Do it now - you demand

Steve’s eyes make holes in your soul before he starts talking

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Will you be my Valentine?

TITLE: Will you be my Valentine?


AUTHOR: lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime.tumblr.com

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is planning to confess his love for you on Valentine’s Day, with orchids and a poem he himself wrote. Someone from the Avengers (who has a problem with Loki being in their team now) catches him in preparation and mocks him, saying “Oh, a monster in love, nice.” This gives Loki a pause as he is reminded of his heritage and his past deeds....

RATING: safe

NOTES/WARNINGS: I don’t have anything against the Black Widow but I think she could be the most suitable to say that cold comment. I apologize for my grammar mistakes. Thanks for reading! I’d love to know what you think.

It was February 13th, the following day would be Valentine’s day and some of the Avengers were planning what to do with their partners while the single ones living in the Stark Tower just didn’t give it a thought. What no one knew was that Loki, the last one recruited to be part of the team, was planning his own thing. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he had fallen in love with one of the members. She didn’t have powers, she was just the best with computers so she was contracted, being a lose second hand to Tony. (Y/N) was friendly, cheerful, passionate about what she did and stood her ground, no one could make her feel inferior to them and Loki loved that. She was kind hearted but with a strong personality. Loki knew she liked romance so he did one of the things he was best about, use words. In a poem to be exact. And he bought orchids, her favorite flowers.

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Leonard Cohen Sentence Meme

Part 1 - Suzanne, Hallelujah, Bird on the Wire, Closing Time, First We Take Manhattan, You Want it Darker.

Change pronouns and such as needed.

  • “You know that she’s half crazy but that’s why you want to be there.” 
  • “You want to travel with her and you want to travel blind.”
  • “You know that she will trust you, for you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind.“
  • “Only drowning men could see him.”
  • “All men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them.”
  • “He, himself, was broken long before the sky would open.” 
  • “He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone.”
  • “You think maybe you’ll trust him.”
  • “She is wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters.”
  • “They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever,”
  • “You don’t really care for music, do you?”
  • “Your faith was strong but you needed proof.”
  • “Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.”
  • “She broke your throne and she cut your hair.”
  • “From your lips she drew the Hallelujah.”
  • “You say I took the name in vain but I don’t even know the name.”
  • “There’s a blaze of light in every word.It doesn’t matter which you heard.”
  • “I did my best, it wasn’t much.”
  • “I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch.”
  • “I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you.”
  • “And even though it all went wrong, I’ll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah.”
  • “Like a knight from some old fashioned book, I have saved all my ribbons for thee.”
  • “If I have been unkind, I hope that you can just let it go by.”
  • “If I have been untrue I hope you know it was never to you.” 
  • “I have torn everyone who reached out for me.”
  • “I swear by this song and by all that I have done wrong, I will make it all up to thee.”
  • “You must not ask for so much.”
  • “Hey, why not ask for more?”
  • “I have tried in my way to be free.”
  • “She’s rubbing half the world against her thigh.”
  • “It’s partner found, it’s partner lost and it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops.”
  • “We’re lonely, we’re romantic and the cider’s laced with acid.”
  • “I swear it happened just like this: a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss.”
  • “I can’t say much has happened since closing time.”
  • “I loved you for your beauty but that doesn’t make a fool of me. You were in it for your beauty too.”
  • “There’s a voice that sounds like God to me declaring that your body’s really you.”
  • “I loved you when our love was blessed and I love you now there’s nothing left but sorrow and a sense of overtime.”
  • “Looks like freedom but it feels like death. It’s something in between, I guess.”
  • “We’re drinking and we’re dancing but there’s nothing really happening.”
  • “The place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night.”
  • “I lift my glass to the Awful Truth.” 
  • “It’s once for the devil and once for Christ.”
  • “I loved you when our love was blessed, I love you now there’s nothing left.”
  • “They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom for trying to change the system from within.”
  • “I’m coming now, I’m coming to reward them.”
  • “I’m guided by a signal in the heavens.”
  • “I’m guided by this birthmark on my skin.” 
  • “I’m guided by the beauty of our weapons.” 
  • “I told you, I was one of those.”
  • “You loved me as a loser, but now you’re worried that I just might win.”
  • “You know the way to stop me, but you don’t have the discipline.” 
  • “How many nights I prayed for this, to let my work begin.”
  • “I practiced every night, now I’m ready.”
  • “I am guided.”
  • “Well it’s Father’s Day and everybody’s wounded.”
  • “First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.”
  • “If you are the dealer, I’m out of the game.”
  • “If thine is the glory then mine must be the shame.”
  • “You want it darker? We kill the flame.”
  • “Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name. Vilified, crucified, in the human frame.”
  • “A million candles burning for the help that never came.”
  • “You want it darker?”
  • “I’m ready, my lord.”
  • “There’s a lover in the story but the story’s still the same.”
  • “There’s a lullaby for suffering and a paradox to blame.”
  • “It’s written in the scriptures and it’s not some idle claim.”
  • “We kill the flame.”
  • “I struggled with some demons, they were middle class and tame.”
  • “I didn’t know I had permission to murder and to maim.”
  • “A million candles burning for the love that never came.”
  • “If you are the dealer, let me out of the game.”
  • “If you are the healer, I’m broken and lame.”
  • “Maybe I’m still hurting, I can’t turn the other cheek.”
  • “You know that I still love you, it’s just that I can’t speak.”
  • “I looked for you in everyone.”
  • “I lived alone but I was only coming back to you.”
  • “They’re handing down my sentence now and I know what I must do.”
  • “There are many in your life and many still to be.”
  • “Even in your arms, I know I’ll never get it right.”
  • “I’ve got to have your word on this or none of it is true.”

Fighting the Demon.

There I go again; retreating to that world I keep a lock on. That one world where no one will ever see, trust me you do not want to pay this fee.

I smile and pretend that I’m okay when I am in there. Putting up an optimistic persona for the audience crowded with people who truly care.

Little do they know that the surface is cracking and they will ask in despair..

 “What’s wrong?”

I’ll give you a glimpse; let’s take a step into my mind for just one moment.

As we enter, I must remember before we move along, to those who believe, don’t forget about your praying..I may not believe but maybe prayers will do something for me.

Have you ever sat there and looked in a mirror and looked directly at yourself?

What is it that you see?

I see all of my demons. Every single one trying to get out but I do all I can to make sure they remain locked up in their cells.

They mustn’t leave; if they do darkness will consume my world completely or has it already?

Words are my power, paper is my shield and my pen is my sword.

Armored up, deflecting those who are sour and the word play will annihilate those  with my razorblade tongue but you all know ThoseMeaningfulWords works so analytically, at times so viciously.

Silly boy I am, fighting off these demons when they were created in the darkness within me and it is only I who should be there to stand and fight with all my might.

It seems never ending.

All day and every night.

I have been so naïve; I let these demons conquer me.

I’m cuffed, locked away in that world I locked everything away in. How could this be? Someone help me, this is something I couldn’t do alone. I was unlocking this world because I thought I could handle it since I have grown.

Little did I know I was not prepared, these repressed memories flood my mind.

What have I got myself into..?

I knew the time would come inevitably.

I knew my problems would come around eventually….never knew these demons I have been fighting were only me…

I am the demon.




Sick, disease, got me
On my please god let me be.

A trick of the mind, a cell locked in time
Where nothing is everything and everything is mine.
Make no mistake the mistakes are all made,
All the best laid plans on paper never get laid.

Love with full heart, to thy own self stay true
And doors thought to be closed will be open to you.
Trust in your wings, young grasshopper,
To fly you must jump
Keep moving, don’t stop, get out of this funk.

Now with a head full of ash I land on my knees
Praying to a needle for a little relief, a few moments of peace.
Will I ever be free?
What beauty, what glory?
Disaster is all I can see,
Mister Authority Figure,
When I grow up all I want is to no longer be.


–A throw back from my younger years, last year.

othelo  asked:

top five pride & prej moments :))

oh god. oh jesus. okay i dont currently have my copy with me which is annoying bc i have marked all of my fav bits but off the top of my head: 

1. When Lizzie finds out abt Darcy convincing Bingley to leave Jane and she gets so pissed off that she starts crying and gives herself a headache and instead of like… trying to cool off or calm down she decides to deliberately piss herself off further by rereading all of the letters she’s gotten from Jane since it happened and then.... when she is jst a boiling pot of darcy hating rage…. Darcy unwittingly wonders in and PROPOSES to her 

2. Okay so u know after Lady Catherine turns up and tells Lizzie not to marry Darcy and Lizzie is like ‘u fucking WOT m8′ and goes in…. i love afterwards when Darcy and Lizzie are walking 2gether and Darcy tells her that when he found out that she’d told Lady C to go fuck herself it gave him hope that she might Not Hate him anymore, and they have this exchange:

Darcy: I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.
Lizzie: (whilst laughing and blushing!!!!) Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.

3. Lizzie reading Darcy’s letter explaining his actions are a GEM. Within a couple of paragraphs she: 

  • reads it so fast she doesn’t know wtf is going on
  • instantly decides he’s talking shit
  • starts yelling "This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!” to herself
  • puts it away and resolves never to read it again
  • gets it out again 30 seconds later and begins analysing every sentence

4. This Classic Lizzie moment: 

~Letter from Lizzie to her aunt~ “Pray write instantly, and let me understand it—unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.“ 

"Not that I shall, though,” she added to herself, as she finished the letter; “and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out." 

5. ‘My qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible, and in return it belongs with me to find occasions for teasing and quarreling with you as often as may be’  b a b i e s

Honorable mention: every scene with mr collins in it