longer route

During his move to Washington, DC, Stiles made a number of realizations about life, the most prominent of which was that it was amazing what kind of hobbies a guy could pick up when his days weren’t packed full of running for his life from various supernatural horrors. Like trivia nights, for example. Stiles had a regular team and the entire bar groaned when they walked in because they knew they were about to get creamed.

Or the tabletop gaming club he joined, where everyone was just as competitive as he was, and punches had been thrown on more than one occasion.

Or like, Stiles jogged now.

Through the National Mall.

Like Captain America or some shit.

And with these hobbies came a sort of routine, and though most were on hold during the summer when his trivia team and gaming rivals were back home, the running stuck. It was calming and got his mind off things, gave him a chance to think about any papers he had to write, or de-stress about his FBI internship when it got a little hectic.

It was a good routine.

So every Saturday morning, Stiles got up a little earlier so he could get in his longer route, and left his dorm for his jog through the National Mall. On Saturdays, he took the path that went through the war memorials, down into West Potomac Park, and over to the Jefferson Memorial. It was his favorite place to take a breather because that early in the morning, there were rarely any tourists, and other joggers left him alone. It was nice and private, with a great view of the city across the water.

Stiles leaned back against the front steps and glanced around him casually, making sure there was no one too close before pulling out his little burner flip phone.

He had an old school drug dealer flip phone. His dad would be so proud.

There was only one number the phone ever called, so there was no need to save it under a name.

He waited for a few minutes, biding his time until the clock hit 7:15am, and then he called that number.

On the third ring, Derek picked up.

“Morning, sunshine!” Stiles greeted, already wide awake from his jog. Derek grunted back. He must’ve had a late night at the bar. “Any leads?”

Derek yawned loudly. “Still no werewolves with triskele tattoos, still wanted for murder.”

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anonymous asked:

Hello! These blogs are so super helpful, and yours is here just in time for me to begin writing my story! So thank you so much for your help in advance. I'm writing a story about a soldier that was captured during war. Part of the story is him struggling to trust his therapist enough to open up about what happened. During this time where he refuses to talk to anyone, how would PTSD affect his everyday actions, his thoughts, etc.? Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Have a great weekend!!!

Hooboy. I’m going to just list several symptoms of PTSD and explain how they would each drain his energy and limit his ability to do things and how to include these in your writing. 

1. Hyper-Arousal

  • Hyper-vigilance: Every little sound and shadow is going to make his brain go into overdrive. It is going to kick his fight-or-flight mode on high and its almost never going to calm down. This is EXTREMELY draining. His brain and body is going to be a coiled spring, ready for danger, at all times. This is physically exhausting and drains spoons incredibly quickly. 
    • Some ways this will change his daily life - he won’t be able to spend as much time in crowds or even just outside his house because there is too much stimulation for him to handle for to long. He probably won’t sleep well because again, all those little noises houses make at night is going to make him panic and lose more spoons - he could combat this by getting a white noise machine. 
  • Emotional Outbursts: Many individuals with PTSD may experience unstable emotional states. 
    • It wouldn’t be odd for him to suddenly feel very angry or irritable with no recognizable reason or target. He may also swing the other way and start crying without any warning. These episodes are extremely draining and there frequency may prevent your character from getting things done. 
  • Lack of Concentration: High levels of distraction, the hyper-vigilance, the adrenaline constantly running through his body is going to make if difficult for your character to concentration for an extended period of time.
    • This lack of concentration may make it difficult for your character to work, attend school, do homework or fill out things like medical forms for doctors appointments. This could lead to him pushing such appointments back because he is unable to prepare for them.

2. Avoidance 

  • Situational Avoidance: Your character is going to try to avoid any situation that might remind him of his trauma.
    • If he was in a tank that was bombed, he may go out of his way to avoid driving. If something happened in a wooded area, he may take a longer route to avoid a similar area because it reminds him of his trauma. This could make your character miss deadlines, appointment times, or cause a significant amount of time to be dedicated to this avoidance which means other things will not get done. 
  • Social Isolation: Another type of avoidance is social avoidance - this means your character may avoid his family and friends, either because he doesn’t have the energy to be social or being around other people cause him to panic. Being forced into these situations would drain his energy very quickly.
    • This may cause him to avoid things like birthday celebrations, holiday parties, any type of gathering. These events are going to be extremely exhausting as your character is already tired and the amount of people and noise are going to exhaust him. 
    • Something else that might influence his social isolation is his PTSD influencing his view of other people - he may begin to mistrust others and feel as if the world is a dangerous place. This mindset is extraordinarily draining and would significantly impact his energy levels. 
  • Triggers: Triggers are sights, sounds, smells, situations, items; pretty much anything that reminds your character of his trauma. 
    • Before he is aware of his triggers, he will most likely stumble upon many of them and suffer from flashbacks or anxiety attacks, which is extremely exhausting.
    • When he knows his triggers, he is going to try his best to avoid them, which may mean changing his routine, getting up earlier to go shopping when it is quieter, not going to fun events like fairs or the movies because he doesn’t want to fun into a trigger. 
    • Triggers are often unavoidable or unexpected, prompting exhausting anxiety attacks or flashbacks multiple times a day, eating up time to get things done and exhausting your character.
      • Consider what his trauma consists of - does it involve guns? If so, it might not be just real guns that can trigger an anxiety attack or flashback. Plastic guns, guns in movies or TV shows, sounds that are similar like a car backfiring or fireworks, the smell of gunpowder, even just something that shoots something, like a Nerf Gun. Think through his potential triggers and then think about all the situations those could be found in - he is going to have to schedule his entire day around avoiding these triggers, especially when he is not actively working with his therapist on his trauma at this point.

3. Flashbacks/Remembering the Trauma

  • Nightmares: When he does fall asleep, he is most likely going to have nightmares. 
    • He may or may not remember the specifics of the nightmare, but he will most likely wake up in a panic, shaking, sweating. It’s going to take him a long time to fall back to sleep, if he even does. If he does fall back to sleep, it may be a very tense sleep, waking up frequently and not allowing his body to relax - this means he is going to wake up in the morning already exhausted, anxious, and running on panic. 
  • Flashbacks: Flashbacks are often one of the stereotypical symptoms of PTSD, however they are extremely common. Flashbacks may happen multiple times a day, at varying severity each time. 
    • One type of flashback is an emotional flashback - these flashbacks only affect the individuals emotional state, not their senses. So if your character is triggered and reminded of his trauma, his emotional state may quickly move to match the emotional state during the trauma - so intense fear, adrenaline, anger, sadness. These intense episodes that may come at anytime, last up to an hour, and are extremely exhausting. 
    • The common type of flashbacks you see in media are sometimes called ‘full flashbacks’ or ‘psychological flashbacks’. This is when the brain believes that it is back during the traumatic event, and the individuals senses - sight, hearing, smell, taste - are going to be taken back to the moment of the trauma. Your character will not be fully in reality at the time and any attempts to touch or otherwise break the individual out of the flashback could result in a negative or fearful reaction. These flashbacks can also last a significant amount of time and be draining. 

Now, you said that this was before your character began working with his therapist, but these symptoms won’t go away suddenly. As your character begins to work through his trauma and develop coping skills, these symptoms may decrease in severity or disappear all together eventually. However, some PTSD sufferers will always have some of these symptoms and have to cope with them. 

I hope this helps!

- Mod Riley

Cute Bus Stop Guy

Sterek, Teen, 2K words, Meet Cute AU


Stiles groaned and took a very long swig from his travel coffee mug as he hitched his messenger bag up higher on his shoulder. It was barely eight in the morning, and consequently, he could barely keep his eyes open. He was a grad student for fuck’s sake, and it was understood that in order to make up for the shitty stipend and the whole working-around-the-clock thing, he got to sleep in until 10. At least. After all, if he was up until 3 working, it was only fair. But noooo, his advisor—fuck you, Finstock—had insisted on an early meeting today.

He passed the bus stop and realized that at least he was lucky in that he lived close enough to campus that he could walk instead of dealing with public transportation at rush hour. Small condolences, really, though.

He yawned and accidentally bumped into someone walking past him. Stiles tried to apologize, but the word got stuck in his throat when he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the person he’d nearly knocked over. He was about Stiles’ height but bigger, all broad shoulders and muscles capped off by really great hair and an unfairly attractive face. “Uh.”

The guy gave him a curt little nod and neatly sidestepped him, continuing on his way. Stiles snuck a look over his shoulder, and yep, the rear view in those tight slacks was pretty good, too. The guy stopped at the bus stop, leaning against the sign, and Stiles sighed. It was a dreamy sigh, even he could admit that.

He had a feeling he was going to become a morning person.

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Worst Parts of Mystic Messenger

not interacting with v more on jumin’s route

not knowing enough about v and his backstory

not enough v 

the saga of is it a fic or are they headcanons continues.

one | two (THIS ONE!) | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

  • so michelle starts to get buddy buddy with ned and peter, ish.
  • she starts to actually kind of like ned, even if he sometimes puts his foot in his mouth sometimes. but they argue about the merits of comic books as a form of literature and he teaches her some words in tagalog and she learns how to call peter a son of a bitch so she’s pretty entertained.
  • but the weird things just keep piling up with peter.
  • he rushes off at random times, freezes whenever she asks him where he’s going, shows up to school with cuts and bruises looking like he’s been fighting in an underground boxing ring. she even saw him go into the chemistry lab the other day at lunch time even though they both took chemistry last year and he’s taking biology now.
  • he just does really weird things sometimes and michelle can’t help but notice.
  • michelle also can’t help but notice that spiderman is becoming more and more popular. people sell t-shrits, masks, shot glasses, tote bags. everything, basically. and maybe one day michelle might spend a little too much time looking at a t-shirt with a picture of spiderman in all his toned, muscly glory. but she just shakes her head and keeps moving.
  • she gets curious about him, though. where did he come from? who is he? why is he doing this? why did he sound oddly familiar in DC when he saved her friends?
  • and then one day she’s walking home from school after academic decathlon and she missed the bus which is totally her fault for staying later after practice to chat with peter and ned about the upcoming weekend and how their plans to construct a lego version of the starship enterprise were so utterly boring she could barely stand to listen to them. (and weren’t people supposed to choose star wars or star trek? was that not a thing? not that she cares about things peter likes. well, peter AND ned. anyway.)
  • she’s turning a corner when she sees someone out of the corner of her eyes. there is a man on the opposite side of the street walking several yards back from here. it could be nothing. but she’s also been taught to always be on high alert. so she grips her backpack to her body a bit tighter and walks a little faster down the street, cursing herself for not taking the more populated albeit slightly longer route home.
  • she continues down the street when she notices the man cross the street so that he’s on the same side of the road as she and at that point she just starts running. better that he thinks she’s odd if he isn’t following her than be caught if he is trying to catch her. she sprints down the street and turns another corner as she looks back to check if the man is following her and then bam. she’s on the ground, gripping the shoulder that practically crashed into a brick wall.
  • “oh my goodness, are you okay?” she sighs and looks at the owner of the panicked voice and she is left speechless. it’s…well, it’s spiderman.

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Don’t Fight This, Don’t Fight Us- Harry Hook x Reader

Originally posted by seaside-stars

A/n I am going to try to finish up and couple more request today but I am not sure if I will be able to get to it. Thank you for all the request, feels great to get them.

Request/Summary: Can you please do an imagine of Harry Hook where Harry gets brought to Auradon and you are TinkerBells daughter but when u look into his eyes u guys fall in love & you go home to tell ur mom but she gets mad so you decide to avoid your feelings for Harry but he pushes it. You can chose ur ending if it doesn’t make sense (:

Warnings: None

“Thank you again for doing this y/n,” My best friend Ben whispered to me as the limo carrying the kids from the Isle pulled up. I gave him a small smile and nod.

“No problem,” I whispered back. The limo driver hopped out and opened the door. Out stepped a girl with teal hair, a boy with blonde hair, and another boy with brown hair. I looked them up and down and notice the hook the brown haired boy carried. That could only mean one thing.

He was Captain James Hook’s son.

The smile I had on my face fell slightly as I looked over to Ben.

“Hello guys, welcome to Auradon,” He said with a huge grin on his face. He must have sensed my discomfort as he looked over at me with a worried expression. I simply turned back to the three of them and made eye contact with Hooks son. All the fear I had felt from being around him went away when I looked into his beautiful eyes. He smirked at me and I immediately ripped my gaze away from his blushing. I looked at the other two kids and saw them staring at me, Ben noticed this too.

“This is Y/n Bell. She will be showing you guys around the school and answering any questions you have. Y/n This is Uma, Gil, and Harry,” Ben pointed to them when he said there names. I gave them all friendly smiles but quickly returned my attention to Ben as a guard came up and whispered something into Ben’s ear.

“I am sorry but I have to go but I am leaving you in good hands,” He said as he started walking off. I grabbed his hand and pulled him so our backs were facing the three.

“Ben you can’t leave me with them, I thought you were going to stay with us during the tour,” I said in a panicked tone. Ben laughed at me and patted my back.

“You will be fine, besides what could go wrong,” He asked as he left me behind with them. After a few seconds I turned around with a forced smile. I didn’t have a problem with them it was just that Harry kid made me want to melt when I looked at him.

“Well why don’t we start the tour,” I asked them with fake excitement. They all mumbled their agreement and we started the tour. As I walked them around the school Harry kept making flirty comments. Gil would laugh at them and Uma would scold him but would end up laughing. I would turn as red as the jacket he was wearing. After a long hour of being a blushing mess I finished the tour.

“That is pretty much it, if you guys have any questions then feel free to ask me. If you can’t find me I am sure someone else will happily answer them,” I finished feeling slightly relieved. I watched as Uma and Gil walked away to their dorms but Harry stayed behind.

“So, you’re a Bell,” He asked me. I nodded my head.

“I hope you don’t have anything against me because of my father,” He said after a while.

“You’re not your father, I don’t have anything to hold against you,” I told him. That made him smile.

“I like you lass, do you want to go out sometime,” He asked me with no trace of fear. 

“L-Like a d-date,” I stuttered out, shocked that he would want to go on a date with Tinker Bells daughter.

“Yeah, a date,” He said a little uneasy. I smiled at him.

“Sure, why not. I have to be going though, my mom is expecting me. Just tell me tomorrow when you want to go,” I told him as I turned to leave.

~At Your House~

“I will not let you see that boy,” My mom yelled at me. We had been arguing for hours just because I wanted to go on a date with Harry.

“Mom he is not his father, why can’t you just let me be happy,” I screamed back.

“Honey, I want you to be happy. That is why you shouldn’t be with that Hook boy. He is bad news,” She said in a tad bit quieter tone.

“Mom you don’t even know him,” I shot back.

“You are never going to talk to that boy again and that is final. Do you understand me,” She snapped back. 

“Yes ma’am,” I mumbled back stomping up to my room. It wasn’t fair, if I liked the boy then why couldn’t I go on a date with him. It’s not like I was marrying him. What was the harm in it? I mean he wasn’t like his father was he was he? He lived on the Isle though which means he is a villain and I have heard some rumors about him before he even got here. Maybe my mom was right, I just need to push my feelings aside and everything will be fine. I soon fell into a deep sleep thinking about Harry.


I walked down the halls of Auradon when I spotted Harry. When he saw me a huge grin spread across his face and he waved at me. I quickly turned around and walked the other way. I felt horrible for doing it but I had too. It was for the best. I quickly walked to my first block class, having to take the longer route so I wouldn’t have to walk passed Harry.


I had successfully avoided Harry all day. He had tried to talk to me but when every he did I would make up an excuse as to why I couldn’t talk or just act like I didn’t hear him. It was the end of the day and I was walking with Ben.

“I just don’t get why you are avoiding him. I know you like him,” He said as we walked.

“Ben you know that my mom doesn’t want me talking to him. Plus he is no good, I mean you have heard the rumors about him,” I tried to reason with him.

“Yes but as you said they are rumors. That doesn’t mean they are true. Oh look who is coming,” Ben stated with a smug smile. I quickly turned to him with a look of panic.

“Well I should be going,” He said as he turned to go. i quickly grabbed his arm making him stop.

“You can’t leave me with him. I will do anything,” I begged him which only caused him to laugh.

“Sorry but I things to do. You’ll thank me later,” He laughed out as he walked away leaving me behind with a sour look on my face.

“Hey,” I heard Harry nervously say.

“Hi Harry,” I said back with no emotion. I practically could feel the uneasiness radiating off his body.

“Why have you been avoiding me,” He asked.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I quickly denied.

“Then why is it everytime I call your name you turn away from me and walk away or when I actually get to talk to you, you come up with a reason to leave,” He questioned me.

“I just don’t want to talk to you,” I bitterly stated. It came out way colder than I intended but it was easier this way.

“What do you mean you don’t want to talk to me? You can’t tell me you feel nothing for me,” His voice was full of hurt. I stayed silent, knowing my voice would betray me. He took a few steps forward but I stepped back and help my hands out infront of me.

“Harry please,” I stammered out. Even though I wanted to hug him and tell him I was sorry but I couldn’t. 

“We just won’t work out if we did start dating so what is the point?”

“How do you know that? Y/n we could make it work, don’t fight this. Don’t fight us,” He pleaded. 

“Harry,” I sighed out.

“Please, just give it a chance. I may not know much about love but I know whatever I feel when I am around you is more than a friendly feel,” He said as he caressed my cheek with his hook.

“I want to, I really do but I just can’t. My mom-,” I started but got cut-off by him.

“Your mom doesn’t control your like y/n. You get to chose who you spend it with,” He said. He was right, she couldn’t decided who I wanted to be with. That was all up to me. 

“You’re right, she doesn’t control how I feel. Harry, I want to give this a chance,” I said with a smile. He returned the smile and pulled me into a hug.

“You won’t regret this Y/n.”

A/n I am sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind. I don’t know how I feel about this one but I hope you kind of liked it.

5,674 miles northeast [josh dun]

Originally posted by 21pilotsgifs

warnings: Language, Insecurities, Fluff

word count:4601

note: ***I came up with this idea of the soulmate and their tattoos and such, so if you want to use this idea for any other writing or use then please ask for permission before doing so. This soulmate AU is where each soulmate has a tattoo on their wrist of a compass, the dial (hand) spins to point in the direction of your soulmate. Underneath the tattoo, it says how many miles away said soulmate is. Also, if I am being honest, I don’t like my writing in this imagine. I might end up taking it down and reposting it later because it kind of sucks.

italics = josh’s pov


    5,674 miles Northeast.  

    Five thousand, six hundred, seventy four miles away from your soulmate.

    The number was so recurring, every time you sat in your house, the numbers reappeared. The same numbers: 5,674. This led to you assuming that his house was 5,674 miles away from your house.

    You pondered the number as you stared blankly at the ink that permanently sat on the skin of your forearm. The image of a detailed compass was imbedded there, just staring back at you. However, it was not the beautifully designed compass that bothered you, it was the numbers and letters written underneath it that urked you.

    He was so far away.

    The one person that you longed for most in life, was almost six thousand miles away from you.

    The only things you knew about him were how far he was and what direction he was in.

    5,674 miles Northeast from your position.

    You didn’t even know his name.

    Wiping away a tear that had fallen, you stood from the tan plush couch cushions you had previously been sitting on, and walked towards the direction of your kitchen. Sighing when you pulled out a mug for a cup of coffee, you looked back down at the tattoo.

    You really needed him there. You needed his warmth and his company; you needed his comfort and his laughter. He was the only one you needed to pick you up when you were sad, and the only person you wanted to be with when you were excited and happy. Somewhere out there, he was waiting for you, probably wishing for the exact same things.

    Filling your mug to the brim with the warm brown coffee, you headed back to your living room where you picked up your bag. Tossing it over your shoulder, you headed out the door to your car, where you began driving to work.

    Josh sat in his house with Tyler by his side.

    They were going over ideas for an upcoming music video, but Josh just could not seem to focus. He was staring absentmindedly at his tattoo, tracing his index finger over the delicate spirals and lines.

    5,674 miles NorthEast.

    He was so far away from the one person he needed in life.

    Of course, Josh was happy. He had Tyler, his best friend; he had his mom and his family. They loved him and supported him with everything they had. He would never take that for granted because he knew the importance of family and friendship. Josh was getting everything he needed from them, just not from you - the one person he truly wanted those things from.

    Josh was shaken out of his thoughts when Tyler nudged his shoulder.

    “Hey, man,” Tyler spoke, his voice quiet as they were the only two people in the room, “What’s going on? You’ve been a bit distant lately.”

Josh shook his head and smiled softly at his best friend, dropping his arm to his lap.

“It’s nothing,” Josh managed, “Just something stupid.”

Tyler once again nudged Josh in the shoulder, smiling goofily, “Josh, nothing you have to say is stupid. You can tell me anything.”

Josh looked up at his greatest friend and genuinely smiled. The two had been friends for so long that they understood when something was wrong with the other, even if they denied it. Josh was so thankful to have Tyler in his life in such cases.

“It’s just that-” Josh cut himself off and raised his tattooed arm to his eyesight again, “I miss her. Is that weird? To miss someone that I’ve never met?”

Tyler chuckled and shook his head, “Nah, man. It happens, I used to miss Jenna before I met her. It’s just something that happens because you know that they are out there and not here.”

Josh nodded his head and went back to tracing the elegant designs on his forearm. He stayed silent for a few moments, pondering what you looked like and what your personality was life. He often wondered about such simple things; like the color of your eyes or how tall you were. These were just small things that made him chuckle and smile fondly at the imprint engraved on himself.

Tyler looked at his friend and laughed softly, “You’ll meet her soon, buddy. Soon.”

Josh nodded before telling his friend that they should get back to work. Tyler nodded, and the two best friends went back to talking about ideas for a music video; this time, Josh contributed more to the conversation and gave ideas. All the while, he was wondering whether or not you would like what they were planning.

When you finally arrived at work, you were already exhausted.

You had driven through traffic because of an accident on the highway, and you had to take a longer route to your job because the same highway had to be shut down. Along the way, you had spilt your coffee onto yourself, the piping hot liquid soaking through your clothes and causing you to let out a few colorful curse words. The action had made you turn your car around and head home so that you could change your clothes to something that was not covered in coffee. Everything was just going wrong today.

Dropping into your seat and closing your eyes, you let out a tired huff.

From beside you, your friend chuckled at your behavior.

“Wow,” She laughed, “What’s got you all worked up?”

You sighed and opened your eyes, turning to face her smiling face. You let a smile of your own grace your face as you looked at your long time friend. You had met on your first day of work, immediately becoming friends.

“Just getting to work today was awful and I don’t have enough energy to even get started right now,” You groaned and threw your head back against your chair, “I had to take another route to work because the highway was closed and then I spilled coffee on myself and had to go home to change. Then I couldn’t find another outfit because everything was dirty and I keep looking at this stupid tattoo that keeps telling me that I’ll never meet my soulmate because he’s insanely far away.” You continued to ramble about the worst day of your life before your friend cut you off.

“Hey, babe,” She comforted, “You’ll meet him one day, you just have to be patient.”

Tears began to well in your eyes as you thought about it. Yeah, you’d eventually meet him, but what if he did not like what he finally saw. What if he didn’t like your weight or your looks? After all, you were not that skinny and in your opinion you were not that pretty. What if he doesn’t like your personality? What if he hates the things you like?

Endless ‘what if’ questions ran through your head and you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers and letting tears fall onto the black ink engraved on your arm.

You friend frowned sadly as she watched you, and then she stood and approached your saddened frame. She nudged you as a sign to scoot over and you complied, giving her a spot to sit next to you. She grabbed your shoulders and guided you into her body, letting you cry into her shoulder.

Gently shushing you, she pulled you back so she could question why you were so sad, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and wiped tears off of your face, trying to cover the red blotchy eyes that had come with the tears.

“I’m just worried,” You whimpered, “I’m scared that he won’t love me”

Your friends face fell and she tilted her head with a look of sympathy and understanding, “Oh honey.”

You looked back at her, not wanting her pity, but continued nonetheless, “I just feel like when he meets me, he won’t like what he sees. Like, he won’t like that I’m not as skinny as other girls, and that I don’t wear makeup like them. I’m not pretty or smart and I just feel like he won’t like it.”

Your friend pulled you back into her arms and rubbed her arms along your back, murmuring comforting words to you before she pulled you back once again.

“Those things don’t matter; whether you are smart, skinny, tall, short, or whatever. He’s going to love you no matter what; no matter the circumstance, no matter what you look or act like, no matter what things you’ve been through. That’s why he’s your soulmate. This man was made specifically for you; he was made to love you and only you. He is going to love you until the end of time, no matter what happens. Even if you don’t like what you see in the mirror, it doesn’t matter because he will,” She rambles.

By the time she finishes her speech, you are in tears again; the words moving you so much that you sob into her shoulder once more.

Your friend just chuckles, knowing that you realized her words were true. She rubs circles into your back and tells you to get back to work with a reassuring smile. You comply and push her out of your chair, laughing when she stumbles to the floor. She gets back up, laughing, and shoved you back. Both of you let out squeals before returning to your work.

Hours later, at your lunch break, your friend sits by your side once again.

All of the sudden, her head shoots up and she looks at you with glee in her eyes, “Oh my gosh! I almost forgot to tell you!”

You laugh at her squeals before asking what she was talking about.

She looked at you with a glint in her eye before opening her mouth to explain, “Well, you know how your favorite band Twenty One Pilots is coming into town for a concert in two days?”

You nod and then sigh, “Yeah, but I’m too poor to afford any tickets.”

Said friend began to smirk at your reply which caused you to look at her as if he was insane, “What’s wrong with your face?” You laugh.

She laughed before beginning to speak, “Well, I just so happened to get a bonus at work last week and may have bought two tickets to see said band.”

Your jaw drops.

“No way,” You speak, shock and amazement evident in your voice.

Your friend giggles, “Yes way!”

You laugh excitedly before leaping out of your seat and running towards her. She laughs along with you as you grasp her into a tight hug, feeling ecstatic for once in your life.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” You ramble to your best friend as you dance around the room, the both of you laughing and crying because you finally get to see your favorite band live in a few days.

A few hours later, you arrive home and collapse onto your bed with a huge, giddy smile on your face. You reach a hand up, once again beginning to trace the tattoo on your arm.

Then you notice something.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look at your tattoo and notice that the number had dropped.

4,245 miles.

And the number was dropping quickly.

Twenty minutes: 3,981.

An hour: 2,432.

Wherever he was, he must have been on a plane.

You gasp in happiness. He was heading in your direction.

He was heading to you.

You collapsed into your bed with the same smile on your face, but this time it was ten times wider.

Josh Dun was ecstatic.

He might have the chance to meet his soulmate.

He was heading on tour, flying to their next stop when he noticed the numbers on his arm were changing. They were dropping quickly, meaning that he was getting closer to you.

His heart thumped in his chest, and he turned to shake Tyler. Josh was so happy that he almost woke bystanders on the plane when he spoke to his best friend.

Tyler shot up when Josh nudged him before sending him a questioning look to him when he noticed nothing was wrong.

“Look!” Josh nearly shouted, “The numbers! They’re going down!”He turned his forearm to the side so that Tyler could read the numbers on the side: 2,432 miles.

Tyler smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder, “Congrats, buddy.”

Josh smiled giddily and looked at the screen in front of him. The plane had installed television screens to the back of each seat so that people could watch movies and monitor their flight path. He leaned forward to click the screens ‘Your Flight’ button. He watched with nerves in his stomach as it loaded the flight pattern.

When it finally loaded, he looked closely at the little plane illustration that would tell him how far their destination was from where they were currently.

His heart thudded wildly and his stomach was lurching as he searched the screen for the number that would tell him how close he was going to be to his soulmate.

When his eyes caught sight of the number, he almost passed out; his heart leaping out of his chest. The corners of his mouth turned up so high that you would have thought Josh was on drugs.

Tyler looked at his friend with surprise on his face and moved so that he could see the screen that Josh had moved away from.

Tyler smiled in happiness when he read the number.

2,400.

Two days later, you were sitting on your couch next to your friend.

Both of you were hanging out before you had to get ready for the concert that night. While sitting on the couch, you were both marveling at the tattoo on your arm. 32 miles. He was in the same town that you were in right now.  

You had been tempted to go out and find him, but your friend had convinced you to wait until after the concert because she was afraid that once you found him, you wouldn’t be able to leave him.

In an hour, the both of you were about to leave for the concert; you had taken a shower and changed into a pair of black jeans, a twenty one pilots shirt, and you old, worn converse.

When your friend had approved your outfit after making you spin a few times, you were ready to leave. Both of you entered her black Jeep Wrangler, you sitting in the passenger seat and your friend in the driver’s seat.

While driving to the stadium, you noticed that the numbers continued to drop, so you turned to face your friend, “Hey, so how far is the auditorium we are going to?” You questioned her with a spark behind your eyes.

She looked at you with confusion swirling in her own eyes before answering your question, “I don’t know, maybe thirty miles?”

You grinned madly at the words, “Really?”

She once again looked confused before realizing what you were thinking, “Oh my gosh, no way!”

You laughed at her and nodded your head, “He’s going to be there.”

Your soulmate was going to be at the concert.

He was going to be within your reach.

The numbers on your wrist were going to dwindle down to zero.

You laughed as tears filled your eyes, and you thought about what he might look like. Was he tall? Short? Was he blonde or brunette? What was his personality like? Was he kind and sweet or was he stubborn and strong? You desperately hoped it was a mix between the two.

Finally reaching the stadium, you looked down at your wrist to see the numbers imprinted there - no, number.

One.

One mile.

You were one mile from your soulmate and he was one mile from you.

A brilliant smile graced your face and you violently tapped your friend’s shoulder. She spun around quickly, ready to yell at the person who would not leave her alone, but stopped when she noticed it was you. Instead of screaming, she just pushed you back and questioned what was wrong.

You excitedly showed her your arm and the both of you squealed in utter joy.

“I’m going to meet him!” You cried, “I’m actually going to meet him!”

Your friend, who had already found her soulmate, was congratulating you, hugging you to her and giggling about how she would not see you as much because you would be with him. Of course, she did not mind because she knew what it was like to have a soulmate in her life.

Hours later, after the concert had started, you were in general admission, having the time of your life. Jumping around to Polarize and Heavydirtysoul, made you completely forget about the ink engraved on your skin. Instead, you jumped around and sang your heart out as your favorite band played right before your eyes.

When the last song finally finished, Tyler yelled out into his mic words about how fun the concert had been and how he wished they could have stayed longer. You and your friend sighed as the two left the stage, leaving you and the rest of the audience to filter out.

When you reached the car, you still had not remembered the tattoo; only when you finally reached your house, did you look down to your wrist and then scream in frustration. You had not realized that you had forgotten about it, and now you would not get that same chance again.

Sighing and letting tears soak your shirt, you layed back onto your bed and punched the pillow. It was not the best way to filter your anger, but at the moment, you could not think of a better way.

When you finally wore yourself out, you collapsed onto your bed and closed your eyes.

That night, you dreamt of him. You dreamt of him holding you in his strong arms and whispering how much he loved you.

It was the best nights sleep you had gotten in awhile.

It was minutes before the concert was to begin, and Josh was nervous. He always got a few pre-show jitters, and they were just starting to hit.

He bounced his leg up and down as he sat on a couch backstage. Tyler sat next to him, enveloped in his phone; he was probably texting Jenna.

Josh, who was feeling more nervous then he usually did, reached down and began rubbing the tattoo on his forearm. It was a habit he had picked up when he was nervous. Rubbing the tattoo made his think that you were there with him, helping him with his nerves.

Tyler looked up from his phone at his friend, watching how her played with the ink on his arm, as he often did. The singer laughed and nudged his friend, “You’ll be fine, Josh. These people love you.”
    Josh looked up at Tyler, not stopping his motions, and then he replied, “Yeah, I know, but I don’t know why I’m feeling so nervous all of the sudden. Usually I get a few nerves before shows, but they usually are not this bad.”

Tyler sighed and looked to his friend, trying to decide what he should do to help.

That’s when he noticed it.

The bold faced number sitting on Josh’s arm.

The number one.

Tyler immediately grabbed Josh’s wrists to take a closer look at that ink, trying to see if he had seen it wrong. Josh shrugged away, surprised at the sudden movement. Tyler had grabbed Josh’s arm and trapped it between his hands, looming over it like a lion did to his prey.

Josh laughed, “What the fuck is going on?”
    Tyler looked shocked as he looked up at his best friend, raising Josh’s wrist to his face, “I think I know why you’re so nervous.”
    Josh took one look at his wrist with a sigh, not wanting to see the numbers again.

But then he faltered.

The number was so small yet meant so much.

She was one mile, maybe even less, away from him. He could finally wrap his arms around her and tell her how much he needed and missed her. Josh leaped to his feet and looked closer at his arm.

“Holy shit!” He yelled out, “Holy fucking shit!”
    Tyler stood up next, embracing Josh like a brother would.
    “Congrats, man! You finally get to meet her!” Tyler spoke, “She’s probably at the concert.”
    Josh did not say anything, simply stared at his forearm in wonder. So many thoughts were running through his head about how this moment would go. Josh knew that when he saw you he would know that you were his soulmate. For some odd reason, Josh just knew that he would know.

A security guard stepped forward, putting his body in front of the pair. He told them that the show was starting and they had to get on stage.

Josh sighed and turned to Tyler, who had told him they would look for her after.

The red-haired man smiled and agreed, wanting nothing more than to see you for himself.

During the concert, Josh managed to forget about you for a few moments, and instead focused on drumming. It was his passion; his greatest skill. Josh loved drumming so much, and he was so lucky that he got to play them beside his friend.

After the concert had ended, Josh immediately ran backstage to change. He threw on a shirt and changed his sweaty shorts into jeans before he took off towards his car. Tyler followed closely behind, shouting at Josh to get in the passenger seat to tell him where to go.

His wrist read, TWO MILES SOUTHEAST.

Tyler started the car without a second thought and began driving the exact direction the compass had told him.

Seconds later, Josh had arrived at the spot. However, the numbers kept changing. It increased to a number one, then two. It occurred to him that she must have been in a car.

Josh hollered at Tyler to keep driving, so Tyler did.

They followed his wrist compass, as crazy as it sounded, until they reached a quieter neighborhood. The number hit zero when Tyler pulled up next to a gas station.

Josh stared at his wrist in wonder.

It said zero.

His soulmate must have been right in front of him.

Unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing open the car door, he ran towards the only other car in the parking lot of the gas station.

Seconds before he reached it, the passenger side door opened, and the most beautiful girl Josh had ever seen stepped out. She looked down at her wrist frantically, before she looked up and moved around, looking as if she were searching for something. It then hit Josh; that was his soulmate.

The girl with the beautifully, silken hair and glowing eyes. She moved with such grace and beauty that Josh wanted to melt. He stood frozen as he watched her, until she looked up at him.

She froze.

Then she looked down at her tattoo once, as did Josh, and then they were running towards each other. It was as if they both just knew.

Josh took off, his feet carrying him faster than he ever had before. He was panting, tears already beginning to fall from his eyes as he watched you take off towards him. Josh opened up his arms just as you reached him, letting your body crash into him. He lifted your body off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist. Josh let out a small cry of happiness and he buried one of his hands in your hair. The other one supported your butt, so that you did not fall. One of your hands ran frantically through his hair, and the other squeezed his shoulder. Josh then felt tears leak onto his shoulder, and he pulled your face away so that he could look at you better.

His breath was taken away.

You were so beautiful.

Josh let out a happy sob and pressed his forehead to yours. Still letting out small cries of your own, you pulled his wrist up to your face so that you could compare tattoos.

They were exactly the same.

You cried out in joy and buried your face back in his neck. Josh chuckled and buried his own face into your hair. He let tears fall from his eyes as he clutched you tightly to his body before he spoke, “You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you.”

When you replied in a voice that sounded cherubic, Josh melted, “I guess I could say the same.”

Josh laughed and he set you back onto your feet so that he could connect his lips to yours.

It may have seemed unrealistic to anyone watching them; two strangers meeting and kissing for the first time. However, it was not weird to the two people kissing. They had finally found that one person that suited them, and they were ecstatic.

Josh clutched you close to him as he let his lips freely claim yours. He tilted his head to the side so that he could have a better angle when he kissed you, and you complied, tilting yours in the opposite direction. Your lips were soft and tasted sweet, like strawberries and chocolate. Josh sighs happily, and let his tongue slip into your mouth. You moved one of your hands up to bury itself in his hair and he let out a small moan.

When Josh finally managed to pull himself away, he introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Joshua Dun.”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, introducing yourself, finishing the statement with, ‘I can’t believe my soulmate is Joshua fucking Dun.”

Josh had giggled at the remark before getting a bit more serious, “So, 5,674 miles.”

You sighed and let out a ‘yeah.’

A lightbulb went off his Josh’s head and he spoke to you with absolute joy in his voice, “How about we reduce that number to zero? Go on tour with me.”

  You looked up at him with a confused yet excited look in your eyes, not believing that you’re soulmate was Josh Dun, and he just invited you on tour with him.

Letting a few more tears slip from your eyes, you connected your lips once more before you pulled away and spoke, “Yes.”
 

More stuff from Khorkina’s book

More Khorkina craziness:

-she thinks she was underscored at the 1992 Olympic trials on beam and was really robbed of making the Barcelona Unified team despite being underage lmao

-she thinks she was underscored and should have won vault gold at 1994 Worlds over Gogean

-she thinks the judges should have ignored her step on the landing during the 1994 Worlds bars final because she was young and inexperienced and that she should have won bars gold over Luo Li

-she claims that the Russian and Romanian teams were given longer bus rides/routes in Atlanta to sabotage them so they would be more tired

-she thinks the Americans only won the team gold in 1996 because of the sabotage with the bus thing, a bad crowd, and overscoring

-she says the only reason she didn’t do well in the team final or all around at 1999 Worlds was because of the Chinese equipment being too hard

-she says Produnova was scatterbrained and didn’t care about training, so that’s why she never lived up to her potential

-she thinks people don’t do her eponymous skills because they don’t have the technique or execution

-she thinks that the vault was set too low on purpose to steal her AA gold

-she thinks Raducan would have gotten a bigger punishment for her doping if she were Russian (I think in an earlier chapter she said Kabaeva got a suspension for the same substance while Raducan only had one  medal stripped and didn’t have any suspensions or anything else done)

-even tho she won bars in Sydney, she still thinks the Chinese were overscored on bars and too close to her because they didn’t have the same difficulty, execution, or “emotional impact”

-she thinks Zamo only won floor because she went after Khorkina and scores go up later in the final (lmao Zamo won because her routine was a billion times more difficult, Esther Moya deserved to be ahead of both Amanar and Khorkina ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

-Khorkina was being ableist and comparing her limping after injuries to disabled athletes -_-

Some insights into how the atmosphere between the Russian gymnasts, coaches, and federation was:

-the federation was really cheap and got them the worse tickets for 1994 Worlds and they had to train on hard surfaces/not in real gyms for both 1996 and 2000 Olympics

-the gymnasts had their rooms checked for food. pastries and stuff like that were confiscated, but chocolate wasn’t. khorkina always had lots of chocolate so she didn’t get her stuff confiscated.

-apparently before Atlanta some Russian gymnasts were snitching on each other about prohibited foods being in their rooms to the coaches because it would have repercussions and affect their team standing

#Scandals:

-Russian gymnasts would all get really drunk after competitions to celebrate despite being underage. Khorkina once passed out in the plane’s bathroom.

-The father of Khorkina’s son was married. He was cheating on his wife with Khorkina for 8 years and finally broke it off with Khorkina when she got pregnant.

Only the Start! (V Route)

Hey everyone! To whoever may be reading this, I just want to remind you that it’s only the start of August! ^^ Cheritz stated that V Route would be coming August but didn’t specify what date, so it could come anytime soon~

I’m sure that Cheritz will give us an update on the situation with V’s Route (possibly a release date) soon, so just hang in there guys! 💖💜💙 

While you’re waiting, just think about how amazing V’s Route is going to be since they’re probably using this time right now to perfect it! It’s going to be amazing guys, so just wait a little bit longer~

anonymous asked:

How do you think Lotor and lance knew each other. What was their first interaction???

There’s such great art out there for their possible first meeting, but I honestly have had an idea that I haven’t seen yet, so here:

I think canonly, they’d meet in battle and Lotor would be a worthy opponent to Voltron, leaving their ship insanely damaged after their first fight.

But uh, since I’m lancelot trash, here are my fan thoughts on what could happen after that under the cut (^_^):

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monkshoodr  asked:

I wish you would write a fic where...a reporter asks Ginny if she can confirm the accuracy of the gossip blog tell-alls from Lawson groupies about his dick size...

(omg Rachel. My brain went in approximately 4000 directions with this one, and somehow i didn’t go with the secret dating scenario?? [sidenote: there’s no eyebrow wiggle emoji, but if there were, I would definitely put it in.])

“I’m sorry, what?” Ginny managed not to sputter the question, but it was a close thing. Had she really just heard what she thought she did? Was she dreaming? Did someone spike her water as some ill-advised prank?

The smiling woman just repeated her question, apparently seeing no problem with demanding answers to something like this. “Any truth to rumors about some of your teammates’ endowments?”

Endowments? Was she for real?

This was why Amelia’d told her to never stop for questions outside of scheduled press conferences. Well, lesson fucking learned.

Still, Ginny laughed, awkward and at a loss. “Sorry, they don’t keep me up to date on all their charitable causes,” she hedged, trying to sidle away. 

Keep reading

you know you’re fucked when you

- take alternate and longer routes through school just to walk by their classroom

- continue to stare after making eye contact

- have a favourite outfit of theirs

- dream about them

- flirt with them without qualms

- stay after lesson for as long as possible

- tell yourself that he treats you differently

- make a fucking tumblr blog about them

cold bloody nights [frank castle]

summary: frank comes home and you’re gone.

a/n: i’d like to make a public announcement: frank castle owns my ass. also there’s blood and violence in this, but i mean it’s frank how can there be no blood or violence???? or maybe it’s just me and i’m a sociopath bc i love this shit i’m not sure yet.

Originally posted by pizzaplanet666

Walking into your apartment at 4AM Frank tried to keep as quiet as possible. Much to his dismay the door squeaked as he opened it, he cringing at the sound. Frank soon went to catch the door and close it softly, but when he looked over at the bedroom to see if he woke you, you weren’t there. All of his senses were immediately on high alert, but he told himself not to panic, maybe you went to the bathroom. But when he saw the broken glass on the floor his blood began to boil. Frank was out the door in seconds, not caring if the sound of it smashing closed woke the entire building.

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