letting the water hold me down

I don’t usually do full lyric analysis but so much confusion and discussions seem to revolve around Dancing With Our Hands Tied (DWOHT) I thought I’d give it the full treatment:


I, I loved you in secret

First sight, yeah we love without reason

Oh 25 years old

Oh, how were you to know

And my, my love had been frozen

Deep Blue, but you painted me golden

Oh, and you held me close

Oh, how was I to know?


[This first part is reflecting back to before news got out when the relationship was secret. They fell for each other at first sight…which is always inexplicable as to why. He was 25 at the time…he didn’t know what hit him. She is talking about her mindset at that point…hurt/sad=blue. But he made her feel loved/better=golden. Like him she couldn’t know what this would turn into]


I could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets

Picture of your face

In an invisible locket

You said there was nothing in the world

That could stop it.


[References the secret nature of the relationship…hands in pockets/invisible locket=others can’t see. He was reassuring her that nothing was going to get in between them]


I had a bad feeling…

And darling you had turned my bed

Into a secret oasis

People started talking

Putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world

Who could take it

I had a bad feeling…

But we were dancing

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah we were dancing

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied


[Her doubts were preying in her mind. He created this secret place for them. But this is the point their secret got out. She was worried because her previous boyfriends eventually succumbed to the public pressure. But while all these doubts are running through her head they were holding onto each other in their intimacy. Their passion was still as strong as it was the first time. They just kept holding on to each other in their intimacy as word was getting out.]


Yeah, we were dancing

and I had a bad feeling

…but we were dancing

I, loved you in spite of

Deep fears that the world would divide us

So baby can we dance

Oh, through an avalanche

And say, say that we got it

I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that

you wanted.

Oh, cause it’s gravity

Oh, keeping you with me.


[She was so worried but they just kept loving each other. She didn’t run. She held on despite her fears of what could happen. She wants to know if they can keep loving each other even when it’s all coming at them…trying to bury them like an avalanche. She wants to know if they can say they can handle it. She knows that she has this baggage but he says he wanted her…baggage and all. The pull/love they have toward each other is strong and it will keep him with her]


I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

…if I could dance with you again

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

…if I could dance with you again.


[*Ok I know her tense usage here has caused confusion but that’s because people mistake it for past tense but it is the present unreal conditional tense she is using. She is talking about what she would do in these hypothetical/imaginary situations.*

She is saying if the lights went out and the room burned down she would still keep kissing and loving him. If the water rushes in she would keep holding him.

…she would do all this just so she can keep experiencing their intimacy/love]


**The phrase “dancing with our hands tied” is something I’ve seen interpreted in different ways. For me “hands tied” always read as a positive…your hands are entwined together…interlocked. They were holding onto each other…not going to let go. I think “dancing” could be taken literally here…they were dancing with their hands clasped together…or dancing could be a euphemism for a more intimate act…this is my personal interpretation…I picture hands interlocking in passion…

the signs feeling intense anger

Every sign can reach the stage when the mind just ‘quits’, no matter how laid back they are. check mars and moon!


Aries: She feels no anger. She feels rage. The intensity, the strong, sometimes short but intense feeling of emotions was something she was familiar with, but what she did hate was the feeling of anger she could mostly never shake off. It was always there with her, she let her rage out and it seemed like an exploding volcano. All she saw was red, there was too much energy flowing inside her bones that she could not get rid off and so she let out her anger, and she did not care who would see her like that. ‘I am fire and you will get burned.’

Taurus: He was angry. Angry with the world, angry with this unsteadiness, angry with the fact, that he could not do anything to stop the current situation. Long, slim hands pulled him out of his nest and threw him hard on the ground. He flinched as a cold breeze came and took away all his warmth. “No, do not take everything away from me!!”, he screamed but the dark did not listen. Gritting his teeth he felt his temper raging, long horns started to grow out of his head and he shook his head, trying to get rid of the feeling of losing himself. 

Gemini: Emotions were an construct. A map with a thousand of points, connected with each other by a small, small string. No there was a knot in the strings, there and there was nothing else he could do to untie them, to clear up this mess in his head. It was like the road for his thoughts was blocked and now everything just piled up. Irritated he shook his head, even communicating was hard and the knot in his head slowly transformed in his whole body. Then his mind just quit. Rash action. 

Cancer: She could not tame herself anymore, she got hotheaded again and knew the will easily fall in an tantrum again. Followed by this feeling of guilt: why me? Why this unfairness? Why the need to upset others and be upset? In the end a wave of intensity and sadness washed her away before she could get a hold of herself again. And getting back to the surface after being pulled down by the ocean would cost her a lot strength. Strength and a long time of swimming through these endless waters. 

Leo: “I do not like this”. It all started with the feeling of unfairness, adding a a little bit of hurt to the shattered self that lay on the ground. “I cannot let them now I am hurt! I will not allow them to touch me gain that deeply.” She opened her mouth and showed her long, sharp fangs. She roared. It was loud and vibrant. Whetting her claws she narrowed her yellow, fiery eyes. “Pray for yourself”, she whispered before sprinting to her prey. 

Virgo: The head was a like a working space. There were many files and papers he read, worked with, analysed, only to put them into a new file that was stored somewhere in his office. “Wh- what is this?” This certain piece of paper  was not like the others. Unreadable. Impossible to put somewhere, therefore it was just out of order. “I..I have the control..”, he said, his hands starting to shake. “I..I have the control over it…I have the control..”, he repeated unsteady before standing up and shredding the unknown paper. He started breathing hysterically, what was that? This brooding fear inside of him? “Control…”, he said one last time before shattering the mirror and flipping his precious work desk. 

Libra: These thoughts. These worries. These fears. She did not know what to do. How was she supposed to handle? “It is their fault!!”, she cried. But at the same time is was her own fault. She cried quietly, feeling like she wanted to let everything out, but couldn’t reveal herself, because everyone next door was sleeping. She did not want to disturb them with the mess of feelings. “I will ignore it. Swallow it.” But it was far too much to keep on pretending. She felt like being on fire, but she still smiled. A poisonous, deadly smile. Everyone should feel her poison sting inside their veins. 

Scorpio: His anger is intense. It’s like a thunderstorm with roaring thunder inside of him. His heart is beating and he wants to destroy, cry and scream. He wants to let out his darkest thoughts, he wants the world to feel his pain, transformed out of the bitterness. But in the end, he remains silent and waits till everyone left. He could hurt anyone right now, but he know it’ll be no good, knowing that he will destroy for sure if he demonstrates his power. So he balls his fists and closes his door. Outside of his bedroom you can her the thunder roaring. 

Sagittarius: ‘Do not stop me’, was all she thought. These feelings were caging her. No matter what she did to distract herself, the anger would haunt her after all, so the minute it became to much she snapped. She could be free spirited and joyous but deep emotions were something completely different, especially anger. Because she was not only the laughter of joy but indeed the stomp of a herd of wild horses swirling up dust as they made their way through the steppe. There was raw force and energy inside of her and that needed to get out, now. 

Capricorn: Get a hold of yourself. Get a hold of yourself. Now. But there was no way to get himself under control. There was this dam inside of his head that stopped this enormous river of feelings of overflowing. Now, there were little cracks in the once so strong concrete and each of them plainly showed the nerves he lost from time to time. He sat at his desk, swallowed and closed his eyes. Suddenly, the dam broke. The raging float of dark water swallowed him completely. 

Aquarius: She saw it often on other people. Anger. She watched them live it out, stomping with their feet, raging, screaming, shouting. Now? She felt it herself. “I know this, this familiar”, she explained to herself. But familiar did not mean good. She knew her temper tantrums for when she was young. She knew that destructiveness could be a part of it. “I do not want that. I will not.” Suddenly a dark, whispering voice talked to her: “You do not choose to be out of touch. You are not your own master.” She widened her eyes anxiously. And suddenly, it was like she was 7 again. 

Pisces: Anger? Anger, he felt it so deeply, anger and the need to cry out of frustration, he did not want to feel it anymore, the worst thing that ate him alive right now. So he grew bitter. “I can turn nasty”, he thought. “I will be the worst if you make me feel this again.” And so he did. So he became the feeling of anger and bitterness himself. As he looked in the mirror he couldn’t recognize himself anymore. Dark, red eyes starred at him, tears flowing. 

little reputation things™
  • *ahem*
  • BUMMM BUMM BUM BUMMMM BUMM BUMM KNEW HE WAS A KILLA
  • i i i i  see how this is gon go
  • “but if i’m a thief then he can join the heist”
  • baby let the games begin! let the games begin! ahAH AHHHHHHHH
  • GETTING .5 SECONDS INTO END GAME AND UNDERSTANDING WHY THE ALBUM IS CALLED REPUTATION
  • ahHHH and ya heard about me”
  • ed sheeran rapping on a taylor swift song
  • “i swear i don’t love the drama IT LOVES ME”
  • ed in the background of the last chorus: “be yoUR A TEAM NOW”
  • the string plucky things in the beginning of i did something bad
  • “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing”
  • THEN WHY’S IT FEEL SO BANG BANG GOOD BANG BANG GOOD
  • “and i’d do it over and over and over again if iiiii could”
  • RAH DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DAHHHHH 
  • “they’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one”
  • taylor apparently wanting to be set on fire
  • ((agreed))
  • the harmonies on this album filling my entire soul
  • “oHHH LORD SAVE ME MY DRUG IS MY BABY I’LL BE USING FOR THE REST OF MY LIIIIIIIIFE” aka the only prayer i’ll ever say again
  • i get so high OH… trip of my life OH
  • the way she sings “using for the rest of my life oHH OH OH OHHH” after the bridge damn son
  • “my reputation’s never been worse so he must like me for me”
  • taylor finally discovering alcohol
  • the way she says “coz i know that it’s delicate” so…. delicately
  • how delicate feels like a rain shower in a desert
  • :) i :) don’t :) like :) your :) little :) games :)
  • OH look what you made me do
  • “i don’t like your kingdom keys, they once belonged to me”
  • “i’m sorry the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh! BECAUSE SHE’S DEAD” is singlehandedly the most iconic thing i have ever and will ever hear.
  • so it goes being chill and then the chORUS AND ALL THE PIECES FALL!!! RIGHT INTO PLACE!!!
  • ;) scratches ;) down ;) your ;) back ;) now ;)
  • o n e  t w o  t h r e e
  • how getaway car is the only song i ever want to hear ever again
  • WE NEVER HAD A SHOTGUN SHOT IN THE DARK
  • think about the place where you first met me
  • “there were sirens in the beat of your heart”
  • the way she says getaway
  • the chorus of this song feeling like driving down a highway with the windows rolled down in the middle of the night
  • GO! GO! GO!
  • being part of a heist, leaving money in a bag in a shady motel, stealing keys and getting tf out in her getaway car. zoom zoom bitch.
  • COS NOTHING GOOD STARTS IN A GETAWAY CAR
  • “all the boys in their expensive cars, the range rovers and jaguars never took me quite where you do” calvin harris WHOM
  • the drums in king of my heart are more important than my need to breathe
  • “your love is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep”
  • ~up on the roof with a school girl crussshhhh drinking beer outta plastic cupsssss~
  • i’ll never let you goOOO
  • but we were dancing BASS DROP dancing with our hANDS TIED, HANDS TIED
  • “oh baby can we dance, through an avalanche?”
  • “swaying as the room burnt down, i’d hold you as the water rushes in” …. “so i punched a hole in the roof, let the flood carry away all my pictures” ….. h e c k
  • fiRST TIME FIRST TIIIIMEE OH 
  • how dress is literally an orgasm turned into a song and i’m… into it
  • take it oH OH OH OH OFFFF
  • “carve your name into my bedpost”
  • “but if i get burnt at least we were electrified”
  • wildest dreams who???
  • “and i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side”
  • say my name and everything just stops -EVERYTHING STOPS-
  • THE ALARM BELLS IN THE BEGINNING OF NICE THINGS
  • ra’lin’ the chandilier
  • THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE! THINGS! DAR!LIN!!!
  • AWaaaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAAY
  • “and therein lies the issue, friends don’t try to trick you, get you on the phone and mind twist you”
  • the sound of shots being fired from every possible angle
  • if only you weren’t…. so shadyyyyy :)
  • they don’t care about the HE SAID SHE SAID
  • the way she says “and here’s to my baaabyyy
  • the organ?? piano???? during “and hereeee’s to youuu…” oh my god
  • CACKLE “I CAN’T EVEN SAY IT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE”
  • her voice at the end when she just says “nice things” 
  • her world crumbling around her and that’s just fine?? because of joe???? i wasn’t ready 
  • I’M THE ONE HE’S WALKING TOOOOOOO
  • “loves me like i’m brand new”
  • “all my flowers grew back as thorns” …. “all the flowers that we’d grown together died of thirst” again…. clean WHOM
  • I’M DOIN BETTER THAN I EVER WAASSSS
  • i’m laughing with my lover makin forts under covers trust him like a brother yeah you know i did one thing right
  • not because he owns me but cos he really knows me. which is more than they can say.
  • “you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” “yes.” :’)
  • call it what you want is the lightest, softest pink sunrise seen from the window of a peaceful airplane in the early morning of a good day
  • how we went from pop anthems to??? i’m bawling in a sea of tissues on my bedroom floor at two in the morning and new year’s day is the most beautiful song i’ve ever heard??? 
  • it’s just a guitar and a piano and she’s harmonizing with herself
  • “don’t read the last page, but i stay”
  • “i want your midnights, and i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day”
  • “i can tell that it’s gonna be a long road” as in she knows that even if it’ll be a long road they’ll always be together don’t TOUCH me
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • and i will hold onto you
  • “please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere”
  • oh cool my heart’s shattered into a million pieces this is fine thanks
  • how there’s ten seconds of silence at the end of new year’s day because you bet your ass i need recovery time before the album starts over again and i gotta get back to boppin’
  • BUMMM BUMM BUMM BUMMMM BUMM BUMM KNEW HE WAS A KILLA 
  • ((they were not ready for it))

okay but has anyone though about this: instead of alistair or stroud being the warden agent what if its your warden
what if you had to pick between hawke and your warden

Imagine your warden turning to your inquisitor with a sad soft smile, eyes watering but certain and stubborn, saying “I let others sacrifice for me ten years ago, I won’t do that again”

Imagine Alistair asking where they were before his face slowly drops from confusion to despair, his entire body slacking and his knees crumbling from underneath him.

Imagine Leliana reading the scouts report over and over with shaking hands, the ink running down the page as the paper absorbs her tears.

Imagine Morrigan clutching a sobbing Kieran to her, soft tears falling down her cheeks as she holds her child, the boy with her lovers eyes and smile. Her only reminder of the person that now lies permanently in the fade.

Imagine Zevran reading a letter sent from Leliana, his eyes dark and unreadable. He runs his hand over the parchment before putting it down and slowly lets his despair run over him like water, his hands quivering as they run through his hair and cover his eyes, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening to him for a second time.

Imagine Denerim holding a moment of silence, the grey warden flag flying outside the palace gates at half mast as the city remembers the brave hero that saved them one last time.

Imagine the warden fighting, feeling the life slowly drain from them as their blood coats the floor. They can barely lift their arms, their eyes are shaking from the effort of staying open and their feet lose sensation but they can’t stop they can’t stop not yet.

Then suddenly they feel a presence, so familiar and warm enveloping their bruised and broken body, and their weapon finally hits the floor as the creature shouts. Then they hear it, just before their vision fades completely, the voice of an elderly mage with soft blue eyes and a knowing smile.

“you can rest now warden”

Learning 2 Share - Stilinski Triplets + Mitch Stilinski [Smut]

Author: @writing-obrien

Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Reader, Stuart Stilinski/Reader, Thomas Stilinski/Reader, Mitch Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 5668

Notes: Here y'all go. Finally here. So, there’s a lot of warnings for this one, let’s go. *cracks literally every fucking none in my body as preparation* Oral (both receiving), Fingering, Orgy, Multiple Orgasms, Spit Play, Anal, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Squirting, Double Penetration, Thigh Riding, Face Riding, Marking, Biting, Scratching, Over Stimulation, Shower Play, Exhibitionism, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Begging, Dominance, Older/Younger, Orgasm Denial and Choking/Gagging. Huge thanks to Steffy because even though she doesn’t like butt stuff, she proofread this for me. If that ain’ true friendship then I don’t know what is. I love you @dumbass-stilinski​ <3


Originally posted by headintheclouds-lostinthequotes


Keep reading

                                                Caring Edition 


  • ‘ Hey when was the last time you slept? ’
  • ‘ Stay in bed, please. ’
  • ‘ Do you want me to get you anything? ’
  • ‘ Let me look. ’
  • ‘ Let me help you. ’
  • ‘ Here, let me bandage that up. ’
  • ‘ I made you something to eat. ’
  • ‘ You’re burning up! Go lay down. ’
  • ‘ Please drink more water. ’
  • ‘ Were you able to keep that down? ’
  • ‘ Does this hurt? ’
  • ‘ You need to stay still. ’
  • ‘ Want more blankets? ’
  • ‘ Do you want to talk about it? ’
  • ‘ Try to breathe slowly. ’
  • ‘ It’s alright I’m here. ’
  • ‘ Here hold my hand. ’
  • ‘ I’m not going anywhere. ’
  • ‘ You can sleep here. ’
  • ‘ Rest as long as you need. ’
  • ‘ Look at me. ’
  • ‘ Tell me what you are seeing. ’
  • ‘ You can rest in my arms. ’
  • ‘ I will make you some tea. ’
  • ‘ Please, take this. ’
  • ‘ You should be resting. ’
  • ‘ I’m just checking in, how are you feeling? ’
  • ‘ Snuggling helps with a lot of things, so come here. ’
  • ‘ Want me to take you to a doctor? ’
  • ‘ I am a doctor, so please listen to me. ’
  • ‘ How long have you been like this? ’
Feelings

Originally posted by shoot-the-smiley

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUT ASF. Also mentions of Domestic Abuse 

Request by: @talia-grace-daniels Imagine based on the song Feelings by Maroon 5 :) Also Incorporated @delish-duck ‘s request for the reader having an abusive boyfriend and Tom being protective

Word Count: 3,500

A/N: People fr need to stop coming after me in my messages. I know I write smut. I’m 20 years old and write this stuff for people who actually want to read it. That’s why I put warnings before the imagine starts so I don’t have to deal with messages but I still get them.. -.-

I’M 20 LEMMA WRITE MY SEXUAL THOUGHTS BOUT TOM. BYE.


ps. I used the word trousers because its fun to say? Let me live lmao


*Slides down the pole throwing the smut to you hungry darlings*



[Reader’s POV]


“Fucking asshole” you mutter throwing your phone onto your bed. Tears were falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. Your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now had been cheating on you for months.


   You caught him fucking her when you stopped by his apartment a day early. He thought you weren’t coming back so soon. You just got back from visiting the states and came home to heartbreak. It never occurred to you that he would be cheating on you. Everything felt fine and nothing seemed wrong.


   Wiping off the rest of your running makeup you wash your face. Looking at yourself was so pathetic. You were too blind to see his deceit and look at you now. Crying over someone you thought you loved. Letting out a sigh you head back towards your bed.


   Picking up your phone you click the home button. Using you Touch ID to open it up and click on the phone app. Scrolling through your contacts you click on your best friends contact. Putting the phone to your ear you hear the dialing tone. After a short few rings it stops.


“Hello love, what’s up?” Tom’s voice fills your ear making you smile. Tears spill over and you whimper from the pain in your chest forming again.

Keep reading

Stay - Drabble

A/N: No spoilers for V route in this one, unless you don’t know what name Saeran goes by in the route I guess.



It hurts. 

His head hurts like someone is repeatedly smashing it with a brick. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he’s burning in a sea of flames so hot that his tears have all dried up. He can’t seem to feel his legs as they stumble and buckle. He barely manages to reach his arm out to grip the foot of the mattress of the bed to steady himself, but his grip slips as another wave of pain pulses through his temples, sending him crumpling to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

His vision blurs, the room tilting and spinning in ways that defied the laws of Physics. He tries in vain to get up on his own, gritting his teeth in an effort to keep the groans from escaping him. No one likes it when he whimpers or whines. His mother hated it the most, despised it whenever he was as weak and useless as he was now. 

But it hurts. It hurts too much. And before long he feels moisture gathering behind his tightly shut eyes. He wants to cry. He wants the pain to go away. He wants to eat ice cream. He wants to be un-sick. He wants to be useful, not worthless. Because worthless means abandonment and betrayal. Losing your value means losing the love and warmth of the ones you hold dear.

And that means… losing her too. 

He wills the tears to go away, biting on his gum hard and clenching his fists. He cannot cry. Crying is for the weak. He’s supposed to be stronger than this. He’s supposed to have grown out of being the crybaby who could only rely on his brother for every little thing.

Just then, he hears the door thrown open, and on instinct, he flinches, holding his breath.

It’s his mother. She’s heard him crying and woken up. He can hear her shrill screaming ringing in his ears. Calling him a worthless, dirty brat. Saying he would be better off left in the dumpster since he’s as good as rubbish. Yelling at him to shut up or she’ll tie him up and lock him in the storage room again. Stuff him in there for a good few hours in the dark with no food or water. Then forget about him and leave him there to die as he should have a long time ago.

He senses her approaching, her quick, loud footsteps like gongs of a funeral bell in his ears. 

Please no, I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop crying. I’ll stop being sick, please don’t tie me up, please don’t lock me in there, please! 

He’s too weak to hide or shrink away, all he can manage is a sluggish backward crawl like a cockroach struggling to move while on its back. 

She bends down. 

He braces himself for a tight, hard slap across the cheek. And then another, and another, and another and another until it’s just a rain of slaps against his face, his pounding head, his arms and legs. 

Please, please don’t hurt me Mother, I’m in the wrong, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry–

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels a hand slowly cup his cheek. He flinches away, but the hand returns to his face. A gentle, tender, soft hand. He slowly opens his eyes which are wet with tears, and he sees her. Not his mother’s bloodshot, livid eyes, but soft eyes full of concern. He sees her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she’s saying. 

All he can register are the tears rapidly falling down his cheeks, the patient and kind manner in which she brushes them away one by one, her thumb kissing his cheek with each stroke, and her scent. Not alcohol, but… the fragrance of fresh flowers blooming on a clear summer’s day. 

He feels her arm around his shoulders, in an attempt to pull him up. He tries to get up with her help, and after a bit of a struggle she manages to plop him down on the bed and settle him into a lying position that’s comfortable enough.

“…fever, hold on, let me get you a wet cloth and some water,” she mumbles in a rush. 

She abruptly stands up, and his body feels cold as if she’s already left him. 

In a brief moment of clarity, his arm reaches out, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving him. 

“Don’t go,” he croaks, another tear slipping down his face. “Don’t leave me here.” 

She pauses, and for a second he thinks she’s going to wrench her hand from his weak grasp, determined to get away from him like everyone else always does. Because there is no use for trash other than to be discarded and burned to ashes and disappear with the wind. 

But then all she does is to quietly take his hand in hers, before sitting down next to him on the bed. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. With you.” 

“Don’t go,” he repeats. Everyone says that. Everyone says they won’t leave. And then they do anyway, when they get tired of dealing with him when he’s weak like this.

“I won’t. I’m staying right here with you, Ray.” 

“…Promise?”

She hums, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Pinky promise. Now get some rest.”

He doesn’t close his eyes though. He keeps them trained on her. What if she leaves while he’s asleep? What if he wakes up, only to find that she’s gone, just like how Saeyoung had left him?

“Hold my hand… Don’t let go,” he murmurs, feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier as the seconds tick pass. No, he doesn’t want to sleep. He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want this to exist as a mere memory when he wakes up.

She complies with a smile, taking his hand and intertwining it with hers, before raising his hand to her lips. 

“I won’t. It’s okay, just rest easy for now, Ray. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

“Don’t go…” he whispers once more. It’s not long before his exhaustion gets the better of him, and the darkness consumes him altogether. He barely registers the comforting squeeze that she offers right before he drifts off into sleep, sleep that eluded him for the past few nights, thinking that he would wake up to find her room empty and her person gone.

This time though, he drifts off to sleep with her scent permeating his senses, her warmth enveloping him and her soft humming of a lullaby in his ears.

And for the first time in forever he thinks, maybe there’s still some hope left that he can cling on to. For now, at least. 




A/N: I couldn’t speak or do anything for the past hour after finishing the VN for day 10 right before the branch, and the only thing I could do was write it out, so this was just a spur of the moment thing, hopefully it wasn’t rushed.

I think I need to just… try to focus on something else. Still can’t really function properly. 

dylanlovesthemets  asked:

“You look pretty hot in plaid" this could go both ways w sterek i think, like derek complimenting stiles on his daily outfits or stiles seeing derek in plaid for the first time

@dylanlovesthemets i almost listened but it kind of got away from me :D 

“Move, Scott,” Derek grumbles, irritated and tired and protective.

Stiles is limp in Derek’s arms after being struck by the monster of the week. Scott had once again failed to account for Stiles’ fragility and left him without so much as a bat to defend himself.

Derek had seen it happen, seen the big scaly tail knock Stiles off his feet and into a tree. And he’s done what he could to hear if Stiles was hurt worse than a concussion and so far hasn’t been able to hear anything out of the ordinary. Heartbeat still in a normal rhythm, no bones creaking or scraping against each other as Derek rolled Stiles onto his back to check him over.

He’s got Stiles bridal style in his arms and is walking back to the cars now that the thing has been taken care of. But Scott is hovering.

“We should take him to see Deaton, or at least have my mom look at him,” Scott is saying, still trailing behind Derek, gripping at Derek’s shoulder and Derek bites back a growl of irritation. He just doesn’t want anyone in his space right now.

“I’m taking him to my apartment. His dad is working tomorrow and through the weekend and Stiles is going to need someone to wake him up every couple hours if he does have a concussion. A test which I am well equipped to do, Scott, since I am an EMT,” Derek impatiently explains as they come up to the cars all parked together in a clearing.

“I know, I know,” Scott is quick to answer but he’s still hesitant. Derek knows they trust each other but apparently that trust doesn’t extend to trusting Derek with Stiles.

Once Stiles is laid comfortably, but still unconscious in the back of Derek’s Toyota he turns to face Scott’s worried face.

“He’s going to be fine and if he’s not, you’re the first person I call,” Derek says and it’s true. If Stiles wakes up in more pain than a concussion warrants or he stops breathing or something, Scott would be the first person Derek would contact…along with Melissa and John in the group text.

But the reassurance is enough for Scott who nods and steps away. Derek talks quickly to Isaac, Erica and Boyd, making sure they’re all still in one piece after the small tussle in the woods. But they’re fine and he gets an eye roll from Erica so they’re really okay if they’re able to sass their alpha at 3am.

Now he just has to get Stiles back to his apartment and make sure he wakes up in a reasonable amount of time.


Derek is pacing slowly in the apartment. He’s not overly anxious, Stiles has been awake since they got in and confirmed only a headache before swallowing some advil and going back to sleep. Derek is still concerned there might be other aches and pains that Stiles is waving off that should be addressed.

For now, he’s on concussion watch though so he’s trying to keep himself awake for the next hour until it’s time to wake Stiles again. He’d sleep himself but the couch isn’t appealing tonight and he knows when he falls asleep it’s going to be hellish to drag himself out of it. He’d rather get another check in with Stiles before he loses consciousness for the next few hours.

The pacing is to keep his mind focused on something, one foot in front of the other, eight steps, turn, eight again. He can hear Stiles’ steady, shallow, sleeping breathing as he does and he thinks he’s pretty calm despite the circumstances. He’s more surprised that he’s surprised than actually startled when the door opens and Stiles is standing there, leaning against the door jam. His eyes are droopy but Derek can still hear his heart beating exactly how it’s supposed to.

“You look pretty hot in plaid,” Stiles says, his clear voice showing that despite his sleepy expression, he’s completely alert.

Derek looks down at his pajama pants before looking up at Stiles with a soft smile.

“You’ve said that before,” Derek replies, tracing his own steps as he walks over towards where Stiles is wavering on his feet now that he’s no longer leaning against the door frame.

He settles his hands on Stiles’ warm waist and relishes the small smile he gets at the welcome touch.

“It’s worth repeating,” Stiles says and tilts his head back, Derek is all too happy to oblige and press a quick dry kiss on his lips.

This thing between them is new, not so new that Derek questions the kiss but it is still something they’ve kept just between them. And it’s something they haven’t taken much further than kissing. Derek had been set and ready to tell Stiles he needed to wait before things got physical in their relationship. But Stiles had been the one who put limits on things.

The pack doesn’t know. And Scott doesn’t know. But the Sheriff knows and that’s enough for them right now. It’s why Derek was so determined to get Stiles to his apartment. The sheriff really will be at work for the better part of the next few days and they both would want someone with Stiles while he’s concussed. The fact that Derek has his EMT license now only furthered the Sheriff’s approval of him dating his son. He’s been doing more to get his life together, to be a contributing member of society.

“How are you feeling,” Derek asks quietly and pushes Stiles’ hair off his face gently.

“Like I got my head smashed into the ground,” he murmurs as his eyes close again and he leans into Derek’s chest.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” he says into Derek’s chest and Derek brings his arms up to rub Stiles’ back comfortingly.

“Of course,” Derek says gently and starts to walk them back into the bedroom.

“Don’t know if I’ve said this but, I feel safe here. With you. Your space. You make me feel safe, Der,” Stiles says softly and Derek tries to keep from letting the excitement those words incited from leaking out.

“I-“ Derek clears the emotion from his throat, “I’m really happy to hear that Stiles. How are you doing for painkillers? Do you need me to get more advil? More pain drain?” Derek offers but Stiles shakes his head.

“No, just you. Come lay down with me?” he requests as he crawls into the bed with Derek holding the covers up for him to settle beneath them.

Those sleepy eyes, the soft fluffy hair and the circumstances have Derek capitulating without much resistance.

“Let me just grab you some water and I’ll be right back,” Derek explains as he tucks the covers around Stiles.

Stiles nods into his pillow and Derek dashes quickly back to the outer rooms. He checks the door again, fills up a large glass with water and snags the bottle of Advil – just in case. He makes quick work of putting both down on the nightstand next to Stiles. He crosses to the other side of the queen size bed and gently lifts the covers, stealing beneath and wrapping Stiles close in his arms.

After a few minutes of slow steady breathing Stiles snuffles into Derek’s chest.

“Thanks, Der,” he mumbles and Derek’s arms squeeze gently in a closer embrace.

“Anytime,” he says and is completely unsurprised that he means it. That he means something more, something they haven’t said to each other yet. But, Derek thinks, maybe they say it in other ways.

Monsters

Requested: Please do some daddy Shawn.

A/N: I don’t know why I try writing fluffy things, because they’re awful most times. I also changed the lyrics of LOFP a little, sorry.

Word count: 2,066

A faint noise rang in my ears, but not nearly loud enough to pulled me out of my heavy sleep. Only seconds later, I felt the faint squeezes on my arms. When I finally managed to open them, the room was too dark for me to see anything properly.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes, feeling just how sore they were. I blinked a few times, before finally being able to see shadows in the dark bedroom.

“Daddy, daddy” she cried again, forcing down my gaze.

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Younger Than Me

Request: Okay, maybe this is a weird request but could you maybe write something where the reader is on her early/mid twenties and is dating Bucky? Bucky is concerned about the age difference but the reader doesn’t care. Then Peter Parker comes along, and the loveable idiot doesn’t realize the reader is dating the winter solider himself, and gets a schoolboy crush on the reader and Bucky gets jealous - anon

Triggers: peter being adorable, jealous bucky

Word Count: 1300+

A/N: yasssssssss, peter shows his face today

Masterlist

Originally posted by avengershaveboobs

Originally posted by tomshollandss

‘Morning gorgeous’ Buckys eyes weren’t fully open yet. He had this sleepy face that made you melt where one eye was a little more open then the other and he had a small smile. His morning voice was also one of your favourite things. Rough and uneven from sleep.

‘Morning handsome’ you had been awake long enough to get used to the light shining in the window but when you hadn’t moved too much. Afraid you would wake your boyfriend. Who’s arm was wrapped around your body.

You leant up to kiss him softly then got up to walk to the bathroom. You found his T shirt hanging off the bed side lamp so decided to slip it on. Covering your naked body. You heard him groan, probably at the sight of you walking away. It put a little smile on your face.

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radio-poem  asked:

I like your hc about Yuuri only wearing shirts and Victor only wearing pants to bed bc 1)they could match every single time (or clash terribly) and 2) together they make a pajama set and i find that weirdly endearing (also, would you be up to sharing more thoughts about sleep talking Victor? Please?)

The full headcanon for the only pants/only shirts thing is basically “Viktor and Yuuri go to the store and jointly decide which pajamas they are going to buy” which means that between the two of them they own only five pajama sets and also they’re all in Viktor’s size because he’s the larger one. This also means that Yuuri sometimes walks into the bedroom wearing a red-black plaid pajama top and Viktor looks down at his own canary-cream (It’s not yellow and white, Yuuri) polkadot bottoms and just says, “No, this can’t happen.”

“But we’re just going to sleep–”

“What if there’s a fire, Yuuri? What will our neighbors think of us, if they see that we can’t even coordinate our sleep clothes? They’ll think we’re dysfunctional. On the brink of divorce.” 

“Oh?” Yuuri’s eye twitches. “Is that what they’ll think?”

“Or worse–that I have no fashion sense.”

Yuuri doesn’t know how to tell Viktor that their neighbors have seen Viktor wearing Lululemon yoga pants with a sweatshirt saying DADDY’S COLD and that any misconceptions they may have had about Viktor’s sense of fashion long ago imploded.

Eventually, Yuuri returns to the closet. He can’t find the canary-cream polkadot shirt. Instead, he tosses on an old practice shirt of Viktor’s so worn and old that it’s almost see-through. The fabric has stretched unevenly along the hem and almost hits his knees in places. He returns to the bedroom and crawls under the blankets. Viktor melts on the spot. By the time Yuuri falls asleep that night, he isn’t wearing anything.

On the subject of Viktor sleep talking, it goes like this:

Yuuri walks in the door on a very cold day in mid-January and Viktor has been sick so he’s been sleeping rather fitfully, tossing and turning and having weird dreams. Today his fever broke, and he’s in what seems to be a deep sleep for the first time in days. Yuuri is very quiet as he makes his way into the kitchen and puts the groceries away.

“Yuuri?” comes from the couch, pitifully, and Yuuri feels shame like he has never felt for the sin of waking his poor sick Vitya.

“Oh Vitya, I’m so sorry,” Yuuri coos, creeping closer to the couch. He’s forgotten about the box of kasha he’s clutching. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, love. Go back to sleep. I’m gonna make dinner.”

“I want soup,” Viktor mumbles. His face is still buried in the back of the couch.

“Okay, baby, I’ll make you some soup.” Yuuri abruptly realizes that he’s holding the box of kasha out in front of him like some sort of offering; he sets it down on the coffee table and kneels beside his languishing husband. “Yakov and Yura send their love.” When Yuuri told them that Viktor had taken sick over the weekend, Yakov grunted and let a look of concern cross over his features for exactly six seconds before clearing it and grunting, “Mustard plasters.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mustard. Mix it with flour and water, put it on his back–it clears the system.” Yakov waved vaguely in the direction of his own chest. “Is he coughing? Yes, mustard plasters.”

Yura just rolled his eyes. Yuuri knows enough about him to understand that this is Yura’s reaction to any and all emotions. When Yuuri gathered his things at the end of the day, he found in his bag a recipe for chicken soup featuring intense amounts of garlic, and also a list of five stores in the area where red caviar is available at a reasonable price. 

Russian remedies are just as odd as American ones.

“Yakov,” Viktor mumbles presently, and seems to nod. “He’s good?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri coos, tracing his fingers softly up and down Viktor’s back. “He told me to put mustard on your back. I think he was trying to help.”

“No,” Viktor mutters, burrowing his face closer to the couch. “No mustard.”

“Why don’t we try it, baby? You sound so miserable. It could help, he said it clears your lungs.”

“No mustard in the soup,” Viktor grumbles.

Yuuri’s hand stops on his back. “What?”

“Don’t let Yakov put mustard in the soup,” Viktor insists. He rolls over then, and Yuuri sees that his eyes are closed. The flush high on his cheeks says his fever may have returned. “Don’t let him, Yuuri.” He sounds distressed.

“Okay, shh, I won’t. It’s fine.” Yuuri leans down his kisses his head. “You’re fine, Vityusha.”

When he pulls back, Viktor’s eyes are open. Cloudy with sickness, but aware. he roughly murmurs, “Kitten? When did you get home?”

“A few minutes ago.” Yuuri brushes back Viktor’s hair.

“I was having the strangest dream,” Viktor mumbles, blinking hard and clearing sleep from his eyes, “About Yakov…and he was in our kitchen…”

It takes a lot of effort for Yuuri not to laugh. 

This isn’t the last time Yuuri hears Viktor talk in his sleep. Viktor’s subconsciousness has some interesting opinions on figure skating politics, and also Yuuri once convinces a sleeping Viktor to tell him where he plans to take them on their third wedding anniversary because He Doesn’t Like Surprises and he needs to know if he should pack a jacket, for God’s sake Vitya.

Sleep-Viktor also likes to lovingly coo into Yuuri’s ear in the middle of the night, “I love you, marry me.”

“We are married,” Yuuri tells him, patting his hip. 

“Really?”

“Yes, for about five years now. Remember? I wore white. You wore a blue rose in your lapel. Yakov was there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor mumbles. “That was fun. We should do it again.”

“Go to sleep, Vitya.”

“Mnph.”

another thing about moana: i own chickens. they are super tame and sweet but not all that smart. the other day i was carrying one around with me while i fed the other animals. so i get to the fish pond and i’m thinking, oh, i’ll just set her down next to it, no big deal. right? right??? no! i set her down and immediately she walks into the pond. immediately! i pick her up, set her back on the side. she does it again. i pick her up, try to hold her back, but by that point she’s starting to get mad because chickens hate water and she’s got wet feet, and she just keeps going for it, flapping and flipping out and look, there’s no stopping an angry hen. i let go. she flew straight into the middle of the pond. totally soaked. it took me an hour of patting and fluffing to get her dry.

anyway, then i saw moana… the chicken had me so hysterical that the people around me were honestly concerned for my health and safety. i think at one point i died and saw god for a moment. chickens, man.

Fishman Boyfriend

I had way too much fun with this one. It’s extra long. I’ll probably return to this one and enhance the characters, maybe even make it a story. Thanks to the anons who requested it! 


   “I want you to take care of him,” your grandfather says as he folds your hands over the cold keys. “He needs someone. He’s so lonely as it is.” He tells you all this from his hospital bed after having chased your parents from the room. “I know you’ll care for him, he’s been wanting to meet you.”

   You take the keys and hold them close, tucking them away when your family comes back into the room. When you’re able to break away from the group you follow your grandfather’s instructions to the letter. You go to his house and follow the little background road behind it, leading through the woods and down a cliffside to an observatory on the banks of the ocean, part of it coming from the water and extending out into it.

   Your grandfather used to be a famous marine biologist and rumors had once bubbled about your family that he had been some sort of eco-terrorist fighting for the protection and preservation of the ocean. He had kept to himself in his old age, never quite retiring and still continuing his studies even as he laid in his hospital bed.

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Barbados

“Don’t you fucking dare, Justin” Y/N screamed as she tried to run away from her boyfriend, who was chasing her, wanting to throw her into the water.

“Babe, you know I’m faster.” Justin laughed.

“You’ll never catch me.” she turned her head and she stick her tongue out. In that second of inobservance, she tripped over someone’s leg. Soon her face hit the sand and six pair of little hands tried to hold her down.

“We’ve got her.” Jaxon proudly exclaimed.

She wiggled herself around, so she could face them. At the bottom of her eye she saw Justin wasn’t running anymore so she took the chance she had.

“Okay guys, here’s the deal, let me go and I will buy you ice-cream, candies and other stuff, which you’ll eat when Jeremy and Chelsey or Justin aren’t around, yeah?” She gave them her best smile, hoping it will work.

They just smiled into her face and swing their heads no.

“Whatever Justin promised to give you, I can give you too, even better. C’mon I don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

I look like her begging only made them laugh even more.

“You know that’s not how it works, babe.” Justin said, slowly approaching them.

“Can’t blame girl for trying, now can you?” Y/N chuckled.

“Thank you guys for help, now let’s get Y/N wet.” Justin exclaimed and the kids started yelling and screaming.

Justin quickly picked Y/N up and started running towards the ocean. She was screaming for him to stop, begging him she will do anything, but it only made him laugh.

“Love you too, babe.” Justin said before he threw her into the water. When she had emerged, she moved her hair from her face and quickly yelled. “Get ready for a payback.”

She splashed water into their way, and they were quick to respond. Since it was four against one, she lost again and they were all around her, so all she could do was to dive and pull them under.

First she pulled Justin’s shorts down, just a little bit, giving the paparazzi behind some good material to work with.

Then she moved to Jazmyn and Allie and pulled them under. She emerged once again, noticing Jaxon playfully running away towards his father. Y/N quickly rushed after him. “I’m gonna get you Jax.”

Considering that’s she’s faster than him she quickly grabbed him and pulled him into his arms.

“Gotcha.” Y/N exclaimed proudly.

Jaxon was laughing and wiggling in her arms, but she only held him tighter. “No, put me down.” He said while laughing.

“Too late for that now.” Y/N said and jumped into water with him. Once they raised up, and looked around at each other, they all started laughing.

“Four against me and I still win. You suck, guys.” Y/N stuck her tongue out, once again.

Once they reached Jeremy and Chelsey, they all sat down on their ropes, slowly wiping water off their skins.

“Having fun, huh?” Kids nod at Jeremy’s question.

“Let’s go say hi to those fans over there.” Justin said as he grabbed Y/N’s hand and started pulling her up.

“You go, I’ll stay here. I need to dry my hair, and get tanned.”

“So you’re letting you half naked boyfriend go talk to more half naked people?”

“Do I have a reason to worry?” Y/N asked pretending to be surprised placing her right hand over her heart.

Justin laugh and gave her a quick kiss. “Nope.” And he left.

 

“Okay guys, get out of water, it’s enough for today. We’re going to swim some more tomorrow.” Jeremy said as he started to get up from the sand.

Kids weren’t happy about leaving the beach, they loved spending time there, running and playing around. But once they were promised to get ice-cream they happily obeyed and picked their toys up.

Few feet away there was a bar with ice-cream. Kids quickly ran towards it, already discussing which ice-cream to take.

Justin and Y/N were far behind everyone, slowly waking, while Justin’s left hand was wrapped around Y/N’s back.

“You’re enjoying it here?” Y/N asked Justin, looking around the beach. Only a few people were left there, and of course some paparazzi.

“Mhm. It would be great if those suckers weren’t here.” Justin said sounding slightly irritated.

Y/N looked over at Justin. “Hey, don’t let those fuckers ruin your holiday with your family. God knows you work way too hard and you deserve this. So just relax, I know it bothers you, but we are here to so focus on us and not them.”

Justin smile and placed a little peck on her lips. “What would I do without you?”

“Be lost, mostly, bored.” Y/N said making Justin chuckle.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” She said and placed her head on his shoulder slowly walking towards their yacht.

Once they reached the yacht he let go of her. “Ladies first.” Y/N smiled and kissed him once again.

As she was passing him to climb up the stairs, she felt his hand on her but. “Lost something, Bieber?” Y/N asked innocently looking over her shoulder.

“Just found it.” He said and smirked at her. She laughed. Justin, Jaxon, Jazmyn and Allie all headed towards the roof, while Y/N went into the bathroom and put on pink shorts. She quickly tied her hair into a messy bun and walked out onto the deck.

As she was approaching the deck she could hear giggles from the roof. She looked up and she saw Allie, Jazmyn and Justin doing yoga.

“No Justin, you’re doing it all wrong.” Allie exclaimed and show him how’s it’s supposed to be done.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how cute they looked together. Justin noticed her and looked down at her.

“Something funny, Miss?” Justin asked playfully and Y/N shook her head. “No, not at all. Also put your ass little higher Bieber. You’re seriously doing it wrong.”

“Why don’t you come up and show me how’s done then?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna enjoy the view from down here.”

Justin winked at her and went back to yoga.

Y/N observed them for a little bit more then she went to the bar and took a glass of white wine. She went back to the deck, still hearing giggles, but she decided to rather turn away from them and appreciate the view.

It was just amazing, the sun was slowly going down. The colours were just extraordinary. The sun painted whole sky into bright yellow that slowly fading into blue.

Y/N felt strong hands wrapping around her waist and she place her head onto his chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he asked with his low, sexy voice that only sent shiver down her spine.

She just smiled and placed her glass down, slowly turning around. She met his gaze, and his eyes left her speechless. He always had such a nice brown colour but now, thanks to the sunset, the brown in his eyes was turned green and it was even prettier than sunset.

“You’re staring.” Justin smirked playfully.

“Stop being so goddamn beautiful and I won’t.” Y/N said pushing his arm. He griped her tighter, bringing her closer.

“Not my fault, baby.”

He lowered his lips onto hers. Y/N closed her eyes at the touch of his soft lips. She placed her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He brushed his tongue over her lower lip, asking for entrance. She moaned into kiss, pushing herself more and more into him.

Once they separated, they were both breathing heavily. Justin kissed her forehead and she placed her head onto his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to his heart beat.

He slowly pushed her off and grabbed her hand. “Come.” Was all he muttered. He took her hand and took her into their shared room.


This is a very short imagine inspired by Justins vacation with his family. I know it sucks and i’m sorry.

Secrets

Title: Secrets

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Type: Platonic | Romantic | Familial | Other

Warnings: reader uses pills to stay awake, obsession, pennywise, profanity

Summary: Richie’s told you multiple times to let it go, that wandering too far down this path is dangerous. You know he’s right, and yet, all these loose ends that need tying, all the missing kids and grief and death might just drive you insane. So yo decide not to tell him. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?


What Richie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you waded ankle-deep through the greywater at the opening of the sewers in the woods. It scarce seemed like a day ago it had been all of you here. Back when you were still looking for Georgie, before Beverly and the blood oath and before IT.

IT. That fucking clown.

It had taken your life between it’s taloned hands and squeezed until it shattered, like a snowglobe, all the shards of glass and glitter and liquid pooling glumly at your feet, and you cut your hands desperately trying to put it back together. You couldn’t piece the glass back into a globe, and you couldn’t clean the mess away enough to forget it was there, and so you turned to what seemed like your only option.

The half-empty Ritalin bottle seemed to rattle judgementally at you from it’s place in the pocket of your backpack.

You blinked slowly, you breathed slowly, your heart beat sluggishly inside your chest. You’d been awake for three days straight, and it had taken it’s toll oddly.

Your eyes felt cold and wet when you blinked, you were very conscious of each inhale and exhale that passed through your lips - and yet you’d never felt more awake, skin tender and sensitive to each shift of the air current, every footfall as you waded through the sewer water loud as a gunshot to your ears, the stench so overwhelming it made you want to vomit, but you ploughed on determinedly, torch in one hand and, in the trembling grip of the other, a revolver pilfered from your father’s stash, cold against your grip.

You had to get further than yesterday. You had to see - see if IT was still…

You swallowed, readjusted your grip on the torch so the light beam wavered through the dark tunnel, catching glints off the slimy walls and murky water sloshing about your boots - and then froze.

The voices floated toward you, childish and excited and horrible familiar.

Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, glancing around in alarm. You were only about ten feet into the sewer, just far enough to not be seen by the average passerby, but the people were approaching were going to be heading straight for the sewers.

And there you were, lacking three days of sleep with a torch in one hand, a gun in the other, and a backpack stuffed with one map of Derry and another of it’s sewers, red chalk to mark arrows along the walls, a spare ammunition casing, a half-empty Ritalin bottle and the only thing you could stand to eat in your sleep-deprived state - two tubs of plain crackers.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

The voices grew louder. You could now pick them out separately. Stan, Eddie, Bill, Beverly, Ben, Mike and, the one that made your heart plunge into your stomach, Richie.

He couldn’t see you like this, not after your conversation the other day.

When you’d first shared with him about your intrusive thoughts - that IT was still alive and hungry fir revenge - he’d been understanding. When you told him you were seeing IT, he was a little less so. When you told him you wanted to go out and look for him, he grabbed you by the shoulders and asked if you were out of your fucking mind. He made you swear on your life you’d let it alone, to never actively go into those sewers seeking a ghost, and you’d agreed, because it was the easiest thing to do.

But prior to that conversation, you’d already been coming down to the sewer for weeks, ever since the nightmares started. You decided no more nightmares, which meant no more sleep, but the visits to Neibolt house and the sewers didn’t stop. You were convinced, blindly so, that IT was still down here, ready to kill you, kill you all for killing him.

You had to put a bullet in his head before that happened.

The first shadow fell across the entrance to the sewer tunnel. Your hand flew to the switch, and the torch light vanished, and you backed yourself into the wall, wincing at the loud splashing about your boots the water made as you moved.

“Guys?” You picked out Stan’s voice immediately, sharp and alert. Your heart ached for him. The marks on his face were still healing. Oh, Stan. I’m doing this for you.

“W-What is it?” Bill’s voice joined Stan’s at the tunnel entrance.

“I thought I…” Stan trailed off. There was a shuffling as the rest of the Losers crowded the entrance to the tunnel, blocking most of the light. You fought the urge to whimper. “I thought I saw something.”

“There!” Beverly’s voice rang out sharp and clear, and even without looking you knew she was pointing to you.

“Hey!” Richie called out sharply, furiously, and you flinched despite yourself. You glanced to your left. There was another tunnel leading off. If you were quick…

Hey!” Eddie joined the call. No time to waste, not if you wanted to get away. You gathered yourself, then twisted around and bolted.

The sound of footfalls rang loud behind you as you sprinted through the tunnel, panic grasping at your throat so tight you were wheezing like Eddie without his inhaler. Your legs felt tired and languid, thick and ungainly as you ran, and even in your pill-induced stupor, you realised they would catch up soon.

You almost screamed as the first hand grabbed your wrist. Stan ripped you round to look at him with the ferocity of a lion intent on preying - and then the fury was washed from his scarred face, and brought forth was shock as he took in your face.

Y/n?

“What?” Richie, no, no, not Richie. You heard him walk forward. “I told you, Y/n’s not coming tod-” And then his gaze fell on you, and you watched as each muscle in his face seemed to unwind at once, leaving only a look of blank-faced shock.

It seemed like the most terrible look in the world.

“I thought you were sick.” The tunnel was silent. You could feel all eyes on you. “A fucking fever? ‘No, Richie, you can’t even come over, it’s so contagious?’ You look fine to me.” He scoffed. “Actually, ignore that, you look like shit. Like, a literal steaming sack of shit. Have you slept since 1798?” His eyes went from your tear-filled eyes, to the backpack hanging from your shoulders and, finally to the place you wanted them least; to the gun hanging at your side, glinting in the light of Ben and Eddie’s torches.

He was silent for several seconds, jaw drifting open. “What the fuck?” He reached for the gun, but you stumbled away.

“Don’t!” Your voice was a high-pitched cry of terror, broken at both ends. “I - I need it-”

“Need it?” Richie stared at you as if he didn’t even recognise you. “Y/n, what the fuck is going on?”

The tears clouding your vision spilled hot down your cheeks. “I - I-”

“Give me the gun.”

“No!” You whipped your arm behind your back, but in the process, the strap of your backpack slipped; the bag plummeted into the water hovering at ankle-depth, the catch tearing open and the contents spilling free.

“Fuck!” you wailed, falling to your knees to retrieve everything. The maps were sodden and torn, the chalk soggy and useless, the crackers the same. The only thing left unscathed was the Ritalin. Richie saw it the same time you did, half-floating, an orange speck in a sea of brown. You both dived, but he was quicker, fishing the bottle from the water and squinting at it.

“Give it back!” you shrieked, throwing yourself at him, only to find yourself locked in a vice-like grip. You struggled against the hold of Stan and Beverly combined. “Let me go! Richie, fucking give it back!”

He looked at you. “Ritalin? Since fucking when - what are you doing down here Y/n? And don’t fucking lie to me again.”

You sagged against your captors. “I - I was looking for…” You gathered yourself. “I was looking for IT.”

What?” Richie stared at you, aghast. You caught the looks of rest of your friends. Terrified, shocked, horrified, and felt the tears flow thicker. “Y/n - IT’s dead. We saw it die.”

You shook your head vigorously. “No,” you whispered. “We saw him fall. Bill shot him and he didn’t die, Richie, what makes you think - I have to find him, nobody else is fucking doing anything and - and what if next time it’s you, or Eddie or Bev or - or-” And then the sobs came, and you felt yourself tumble from Stan and Beverly’s grips. You fell to your knees in the sewer, feeling your tears mingle with the water.

There was silence for at least a minute before somebody crouched before you. Eddie held the pill bottle in his hand tightly. “Y/n,” he said uncharacteristically gentle. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

You licked your sleep, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Three - three days.”

“Alright.” He stood up. “Um, yeah, we’ve got to get her home. Like, now. If she misses any more sleep she’s going to have a psychotic break.”

“Kind of seems like she already has,” Ben piped up. Richie glared, but didn’t say anything to him, instead wading over and hooking one of your arms about his shoulders. Beverly rushed forward to help, and though you protested meekly, you enjoyed the feeling of Richie’s feathery hair brushing against the skin of your arm, the simmering waves of concern radiating off your friends as you were bodily dragged from the sewer.

————

The couch was already made up for you.

Richie bustled around downstairs noisily, doing everything and nothing as you sat with your knees drawn to your chest, head resting on them as you quietly stared at the ground.

His parents were gone for a weekend - not that it made much difference. His parents were either indifferent or abusive to Richie, so he often spent his nights in a secret den in your wardrobe, unbeknownst to your parents and out the window early every morning.

But tonight his parents were gone, and your bed was on the couch with a hundred cushions and blankets and a mug of tea the size of your fist beside you. You heard Richie snap off the kitchen light before he entered the living room.

He sat down beside you on the couch before tentatively taking your hand in his. You looked up when he flinched at the contact, and he adjusted his glasses apologetically.

“Your hands are cold,” he told you, and you nodded mutely. There was silence for a minute. “I, um, I think it was pretty shitty that you basically lied to my face and all but - y’know, I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me about it.”

“No.” It was a whisper, a dove wing’s beat of a word, yet cut like shattered glass.

“What?”

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured. “It’s mine. I don’t - I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Richie. I see IT everywhere. I just - it got in my head that I had to - what if you-”

“Hey.” He caught hold of your hand again, unflinching this time. “I’m right here, okay? Take a lot more than some poof in facepaint to get rid of me.” He grinned, and you giggled for what felt like the first time in years.

“My knight in shining armour,” you teased, tracing a curling lock of hair falling to his jaw. He reddened, stock still, letting your touch ghost over his skin before your hand dropped back to your lap.

“Well,” he mumbled. “G’night, anyways.” He made to leave, but you could think of nothing worse than another night alone. Some part of you you had no control of made your hand fly out and grab onto his wrist, tugging slightly.

“Could you-” You swallowed, suddenly afraid. “Could you maybe stay with me?”

He blinked behind his glasses. “I - I - yeah. Yeah, sure.” He hauled himself back onto the sofa, the other end. “Budge up then.”

You shifted, backing into the back of the couch until you were both settled comfortably. Finally, a lull of sleep began to hang over you like a thick mist, and you reclined into the pillows.

“Y/n?” Richie called.

“Mm?” you mumbled back lazily.

“No more secrets, yeah?”

“No more secrets.”

For the first time in months, your sleep was sweet.

This Isn’t You

MASTERLIST

Request:  Can you write about Shawn getting angry/ upset in public (a party or something) bc of someone said something rude to his gf?? And she tries to make him leave but ends up in a fight with the other person???

Word Count: 2,354

This Isn’t You

“You want another beer?” Brian asked me, well, yelled at me. The music was very loud and people were laughing and talking vociferously.

“Yeah, sure” I smiled. I turned around and patted Shawn on the shoulder. He looked at me.

“What about you?” I asked him. 

“What?” he mumbled back.

Keep reading

Tell Me

In retrospect Keith proberly shouldn’t of teased the Galra holding them captive.
They had been on what Coran said was a peaceful planet so they had all gone down only in black.
However when they arrived they found the place swarming with Galra.
Shiro had tried to pilot them out of there but they were shot down and crashed on the banks of a large pink lake.
With Black down for the count they had tried to fight off the sentries, but they just kept coming and one got a lucky shot in knocking Lance’s helmet off and grabbing him round the neck.
The other Paladins had no choice but to drop their weapons or Lance would pay the price.
It was then that Keith had an idea.
“Let him go and I’ll give you information.”
“What information could you possibly have?” The general asked as he peered down at Keith in curiosity.
Keith looked around desperately trying to think of something when he remembered Allura telling them about an old virus they had used in the old days that would make the sentries useless.
Of course it was outdated and useless now.
But they didn’t know that.
“Information on a new sentry destruct virus.”
The generals eyebrows shot up into his hair line.
Keith hoped for a second he would let Lance go.
However he only tightened his grip causing Lance to weakly groan.
Even from this far away Keith could see the bruise forming around his neck.
“Tell me.”
“L-let him go first!” Keith demanded keeping eye contact.
“Tell me now or” he held Lance over the edge of the water, “I drown him.”
Keith felt his heart beat speed up. This wasn’t part of the plan.
The general took his stunned silence for refusal and threw Lance into the water, holding his head below the surface.
Hunk screamed his best friends name.
Shiro was desperately trying to fight his was free.
Pidge was trying not to panic.
And Keith was staring horrified.
This was all his fault.
“So red Paladin, tell me what I want to know.”
Keith couldn’t talk.
He didn’t have to answers.
“Just tell him Keith!” Hunk yelled frantically catching his attention.
“If you won’t then I will!”
Keith almost sighed in relief.
Hunk had figured out what he was doing and had a plan to get Lance out.
“Just let him up.” Hunk begged fully aware that though Lance was the best swimmer he knew, there was only so long a person could hold their breath.
And Lance had been under a full minuet already.
“Tell me about the virus first.” The general replied cooly not even noticing how Lance struggled beneath his grasp.
“I-it’s erm… it’s designed to fry the sentries databases so they don’t know who to follow anymore.”
“How?” The general asked.
“Let him up please!” Pidge yelled.
“I asked how!” He snarled.
“Plug into the main drive that commands them. There I told you now let him up!”
Hunk screamed at him tears running down his face.
Lance had stopped struggling, just lying still in the water.
Keith couldn’t breath.
This was all his fault, this was his bluff and Lance was paying for it.
“Return to the ship, tell Zarkon we captured the Paladins, well most of them. One was unfortunately killed in the process.”
“You bastard!” Keith yelled trying to break free.
However Shiro beat him to it.
Flipping the guard over his shoulder and jumping over his cuffed hands.
He barged into the general knocking into the water and causing him to drop Lance.
The next few moments were sheer chaos of grabbing weapons and trying to get away.
Pidge used her bayard to free Hunk who ran and pulled Lance from the water.
It wasn’t until they were all in Black flying away did they actually take a moment to check on the fallen Paladin.
His skin was a sickly grey colour and his lips tinged blue.
His hair was plastered to his forehead and he was so cold to the touch.
The worst was that he wasn’t breathing.
“Help me get his armour off!” Hunk ordered Keith as he began to take the armour off his best friends chest.
Keith in a daze did as he was told.
Once his chest was free of armour Hunk began doing compressions while Shiro radioed the castle.
“Allura we need a pod ready. Lance is down.”
“What happened?” Allura asked alarmed.
“We were jumped by the Glara and Lance was held under water for too long… h-he’s not breathing.” Shiro tried to hide the way his voice cracked but he couldn’t.
That was one of his team mates back there dying and he couldn’t do anything but fly as fast as Black would let them.
When then returned to the castle Hunk scooped Lance up and took off running.
Lance had coughed up a little water and was breathing on his own…
Barley.
Hunk didn’t stop until they had him loaded into the pods.
Coran looked him over with a grave expression as the others filed in.
“He will live.”
Everyone melted to the floor all the tension and adrenaline leaving their bodies all at once.
“However it was close… I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets some lung damage from the water.”
Keith stared at the pod.
He kept staring even after the others went to bed.
He was still staring when the pod hissed open and Lance fell out.
Keith was only just able to catch him before he hit the floor.
“Lance! How you feeling?”
Lance groaned and opened his mouth to speak but started coughing.
Keith stared panic clear on his face.
“I-I’m ok.” Lance wheezed after a while.
“No your not… you lungs are messed up now because of me. It’s my fault you almost drowned. I’m sorry Lance I’m so sorry.” Keith didn’t even realise he was crying until Lance wiped the tears from his face.
“Hey hey… it’s fine, I’m fine. Drowning if better then a broken neck.” Lance croaked.
Keith ran his thumb across where the bruise had been round his neck.
“Still… you don’t deserve this.”
“And you don’t deserve to feel bad, the Galra did this to me not you.”
Keith nodded but still felt bad.
That was until Lance pulled him close into a hug.
Keith silently promised that as long as he was there no one would ever hurt Lance again.

Things My Friend Said Playing Video Games

“What are you doing? Get the fuck up! It’s not nap time!”
“Someone is shooting at me.”
“Whelp, my girlfriend killed you.”
“Congratulations, you fucked up.”
“Oh my god, there are so many things.”
“Did I not just do that?”
“What is happening?”
“Sure, take me. Let’s go.”
“My girlfriend is doing all the work!”
“You’re almost as confused as I am.”
“I just like ran right into this raider camp. It’s fine.”
“Random rocks and shit, just hanging out.”
“Great. I got a rock.”
“Let me just throw my ass just down this hole.”
“I love that I’m getting on shit that works on my equipment from the Milky Way, out of these ancient tomb things that the people in this galaxy don’t even know about.”
“Do you have to jump over that? You could walk just two inches!”
“Guys, bridges are supposed to BRIDGE THINGS.”
“I think your bridge is broken.”
“I kinda really want to jump down there. I know I’ll die. But I want to.”
“The music is going spastic, there’s shit flying in my face, there’s giant turnips in the sky… what the fuck is happening?”
“I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“Hold still! I want to shoot you!”
“Let me live my life.”
“My eyes are on fire.”
“This water looks like pudding!”
“They look like dumb little octopi.”
“Now it’s time to die.”
“I’m gonna punch your ass even though you fly, c'mere!”
“Let’s go, guys! So I don’t die – where the fuck are all of you!?”
“Well, it’s DEAD NOW.”
“What? What, what, what? I don’t see anything! What do you want? WHAT?!”
“I wanna get my MAD LOOT first.”
“These robots have the juiciest thighs.”
“ARE YOU TELLING ME THEY CRASHED HERE AND NOBODY NOTICED?”
“ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, but if you think I believe this shit for one minute–”
“Fucking – just die, I’m done with your plot!”
“Knife to the eyeball!”
“Are you dead now? What happened?”
“That’s fucking, like, beautifully stupid.”
“You have a little dialogue tree I can shimmy my butt up?”
“Oh, get out you dirty whore.”