making this story the top of your a block = you're doing it right

anonymous asked:

Hello, if you're still taking prompts could you do #33 with Marichat or Ladynoir? (BTW love your stories!)

This is horribly overdue. I’m so sorry this took so long, I was caught up with other stories, life, and just recently suffered a bad case of writer’s block :/ I picked the Ladynoir side of the love square (although it’s probably not in the way you’re thinking). Still, I hope you enjoy this :)

“Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence.”

You may not know it, but being a noblewoman could be very difficult at times.

Such were the Lady Marinette’s thoughts as she finally managed to sneak away to the snack table. A young Lord had been trying to request a dance with her for the better part of ten minutes, causing her to nearly flee every time he came in her sights. Luckily, just when she thought she was cornered, she was able to pair him with her best friend.

“I’m going to kill you,” Lady Alya had silently mouthed when she was led to the dance floor.

Marinette giggled to herself as she swiped a chocolate chip cookie from the very top of the pile on the silver tray. Not many women were eating them in order to ‘maintain their figure’ but Marinette didn’t really care about that. She’d eat what she wanted, whenever she wanted.

She looked around at the sea of guests, at all the colorful masks that adorned their faces. Her parents decided to host a masquerade ball, thinking it to be romantic and mysterious. Marinette thought that the idea was intriguing, but she didn’t really think anyone to be romantic or mysterious. It was just like any other ball she’d been to, with no one in particular standing out among the crowd.

She wanted to tell her parents that real life was vastly different from fairy tales, but she knew it would crush their hearts, especially since they wanted her to have a whirlwind romance of her own.

Marinette sighed in defeat, resigning herself to picking out a stranger to dance with just to appease her hopeless romantic parents.

“Is the princess not having a good time?” a masculine voice teasingly drawled.

Startled, her head whipped around to see a man leaning against a nearby pillar. He wore the traditional finely-made garb befitting of someone of the noble class, yet it was completely black, save the swirling designs of green beside the buttons on the otherwise coal black jacket.

Around his equally green eyes sat a black domino mask, but with cat ears on the ends. His blond hair lacked a refined style, instead the golden locks were wildly tousled. However, instead of looking like a common vagrant, the look suited him perfectly.

His lips were stretched into a wide smile, a row of pearly-white teeth exposed in the process. She noticed the man had rather nicely chiseled features. This, combined with all his other traits, made him exceptionally handsome.

However, her heart was already taken.

“I am not a princess, sir,” she replied, a corner of her mouth arching in interest. She had a feeling that whoever this man was, he was going to prove to be riveting company.

“You could’ve fooled me, with how every man’s eyes are fixated on you alone,” he purred flirtatiously, abandoning his spot by the column to saunter closer to her.

She snorted in mirth, finding that she liked this stranger. Sure, his flirting was a little over-the-top, but it wasn’t at all creepy like how some lords spoke.

“I find that hard to believe,” she disputed with a grin. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since I’m not interested in any of them.”

“Too good for them?” he asked. His tone was still teasing, yet his eyes shined with something else. For a moment she thought it seemed like he was testing her, but she quickly wrote it off as paranoia.

“No, it’s not that. The person that I really want to dance with isn’t here,” she admitted. She had a mask on, so no one except for Alya knew who she really was. So she supposed it was okay to tell a few truths for one night, provided she was careful, of course.

She sighed, recalling how her statement had been all too true. Prince Adrien was far out of reach, and honestly she shouldn’t have expected him to show up to her modest estate, even if it was for a ball. She met him a few months ago when his father had invited all the noble families to a formal dinner, hers included.

They didn’t get off on the right foot, though.

When it was time for the dinner, she ended up being one of the last few to enter the dining room. She had been caught up in a conversation with Alya in the sitting room beforehand, delaying her arrival. When she did show, she was dismayed when she found a splash of red wine decorating the bottom of her cherry wood chair, with the Crown Prince himself squatting next to it.

Since she couldn’t berate him without receiving a harsh reprimand, she chose to coldly glare at him as she picked up a napkin from her place on the table to wipe it. Prince Adrien tried to stutter something out, something probably apologetic, but she silently rebutted every attempt for speaking.

Finally, when the dinner was over, it was discovered that it had started to rain. It was sunny before, so naturally no one brought umbrellas with them, thus resigning everyone to a wet and soaking fate.

However, right as she was about to step outside into the steady rain, the Prince appeared…with a black umbrella in hand. He explained that he was about to wipe off the wine when she had suddenly appeared. He didn’t try to soil her dress at all, and was simply in the right place (to clean the chair), but at the wrong time.

Hearing his honest words and expression persuaded her to forgive him. Afterward, he gave her the umbrella to use so she wouldn’t get wet.

And that was the moment when she fell in love with the sweet, unsuspecting prince.

They saw each other a few more times after that. He was just as friendly and amicable, but she could barely respond to him without embarrassing stutters and stammers. He was perfect in her eyes, so excuse her for being a little anxious to talk to him.

“Who do you admire that so rudely didn’t show up?” the stranger asked with a quirk of his lips.

She shook her head. There was no way she could tell anyone that she was interested in the Prince, mask or not.

“Sorry, but I can’t tell you that, Chat Noir.”

She supposed it was a good nickname; it suited him considering his attire. Besides, she couldn’t keep mentally referring to him as a stranger or just simply ‘he’.

“Chat Noir, hm?” he repeated, a far-away look appearing in his eyes as he stared above her head, a finger tapping chin in thought.

He grinned, returning his attention to her.

“I like it. Although I suppose you need a nickname now, too. How about…” he trailed off, inspecting her up and down to determine the perfect moniker. Abruptly he snapped his fingers, something that Marinette didn’t understand how he accomplished, considering he wore black gloves.

“Ladybug!” he exclaimed, smiling widely. “For your red dress and black mask. And it’s also perfect since black cats are a symbol of bad luck while ladybugs are for good luck. We’re like yin and yang, my Lady.”

The last two words rolled off his tongue in such an alluring way that caused the Lady’s heartbeat to momentarily quicken. With a light dusting of pink on her cheeks, she slightly shook her head, dismissing the sudden spike of attraction for him. ‘Chat Noir’ was just a charmingly amusing character, one that she didn’t romantically admire.

“Ladybug,” she echoed aloud, pursing her lips as she considered the potential identity. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that she seemingly decided, presenting Chat a coy smirk. “I like it.”

He mirrored her expression with a gleeful gleam of his own in his eyes.

“I knew you would,” he boasted in jest, straightening his shoulders and raising his chin in the air, giving off the appearance of a conceited aristocrat. She smiled and rolled her eyes when he placed a flattered hand over his heart. “Since everyone loves my ideas.”

“Really? And who would ‘everyone’ be?” she asked sarcastically, playing his game. “The other stray tomcats in the village?”

“My Lady, whoever said I was a stray? For all you know, I could be of royal pedigree.” His lips curved into a strangely unsettling smirk, as though he knew something she didn’t. “For all you know, I could be the Crown Prince!”

Marinette laughed, making sure to quickly press her lips together as she brought a hand to her mouth, trying to politely cover up the loud chortles. After all, it was rude for a well-bred lady to have her mouth wide open in laughter. Women were supposed to be demure and polite, always looking at their best.

She hated this social construct, yet she was doomed to follow through with its requirements anyway.

Once her giggles died down, she turned to face the grinning feline again.

“I’ve met Prince Adrien before, and I can confidently say that you’re nothing like him.”

“Indeed?” he remarked, almost sly.

“Yes, indeed,” she insisted with another giggle. “Prince Adrien isn’t like you at all.”

“And if he was? Would you admire him any less?”

Marinette visibly flinched, taken aback by his conclusion. With disbelieving eyes and reddened cheeks, she ducked her head down to avoid his eyes. How did he realize she had feelings for the Prince? This was bad, very bad…if he knew who she was he could tell Adrien, and then Adrien would never love her back and word would spread and she would become the laughing stock of the entire kingdom! She would be lonely for the rest of her life and die an old maid, while Adrien would pick a beautiful and worthy princess to marry…

She forced herself to take a deep breath through her nose.

Relax, Marinette. Maybe you could convince him that he’s wrong.

With that mental pep talk, she straightened her shoulders and faced him again.

“I don’t admire him, well, not more so than anyone else. I don’t admire him in the sense that you’re thinking of.”

“Really? Because from what I hear you do admire him, more so than anyone else.” He smirked wickedly, eliciting a nervous gulp from the stiffening maiden.


“The ‘how’ isn’t important,” he quickly dismissed with a careless wave of his hand. “What matters is the ‘why’. Why do you fancy Prince Adrien?” He clasped his hands behind his back before walking in front of her line of vision. She was positive that if they were alone, he’d be circling her like a hawk about to catch its prey.

“Is it for his riches? His looks? His palace? Or is it simply a matter of competition, in which you must win the grand prize?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes. Nevermind that this cocky feline somehow knew who she was (he didn’t say her name, but he had heard of her feelings for Prince Adrien, so therefore he must know her identity), but how dare he assume her affections were based on purely artificial things?

“Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence,” she informed him, her tone hard as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“So it is true, then?” he guessed with a bitter grin, followed by a scoff. “I guess our dear Prince will forever be resigned to a life without true love. Pity, I heard he was interested in quite a lovely woman, too. Warm, kind, a bit clumsy, but beautiful inside and out. Tis a shame, although I suppose it’s very well that he caught himself before he fell completely.”

Marinette was now glaring daggers where Chat Noir stood, her teeth bared in an infuriated snarl. She ignored the jab to her heart from his mention of another woman that Prince Adrien was interested in, instead focusing her anger on his grave mistakes of her character.

“Now you listen here, Chat Noir,” she spat, pointing a finger to his chest. “My feelings for Prince Adrien are real, and not based on his title, or his riches, or looks. I didn’t even like him until I saw how kind, forgiving, and generous he could be. I love him for who he is as a person, not for what he could afford or what he could give me.”

She took a deep breath, her fury beginning to simmer.

“And while I know I have no chance of him ever returning my feelings,” she continued in a much less hostile tone than before, bordering on disheartened acceptance, “I just want to make it clear that I do truly care for him…even if he loves someone else.”

The man in front of her stared seemingly in awe at her words. His green eyes were blown wide as his cheeks gradually shifted into a rosy color. For a few, tense seconds all he could seem to do was peer at her with an emotion Marinette couldn’t place, his reaction garnering her confusion.

Why was he looking at her as if seeing her for the first time? It caused a shiver to run down her spine, a good thing or a bad thing, she wasn’t certain.

At last, he appeared to snap out of his self-induced trance, a corner of his mouth curling up in a fond smile.

“I apologize for making such inaccurate assumptions of your feelings, My Lady. I see now that I was in the wrong.”

He held out a gloved hand to her.

“Would you allow me to make it up to you with a dance?”

Marinette pursed her lips, not relenting on the glower she sent his way.

“How is a dance with you going to make it up to me?”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m an excellent dancer,” he boasted, shooting her a wink. “And I’ve been trained since early childhood in the art.” His smile faltered as his expression shifted from cheekiness to remorseful. “I really am sorry for making those false accusations about you. It was completely unjustified. Can you forgive me?”

Marinette sighed, her features relaxing in the process.

She supposed she could understand where he was coming from, since most girls only wanted Prince Adrien for his title or looks. How was he to know that she was different, that she didn’t care about that stuff?

Well, she did consider him to be the most handsome, gorgeous man she ever saw, but that wasn’t why she liked him.

Anyway, Chat was just making a conclusion most likely based on the Prince’s numerous, other female admirers. He was also quick to apologize once she informed him on how wrong he was.

She was set on dancing with Prince Adrien and him alone for the night, but it was obvious that he wasn’t going to show up. And, she’s been itching to dance…

“Alright, Chat Noir, I will dance with you. But you must promise me something first.”

A part of his forehead rose. She guessed he was raising an eyebrow at her request.

“And that would be?”

Her blue eyes hardened.

“You must promise not to tell Prince Adrien about my feelings for him. Swear to me you won’t!”

Chat looked baffled at her demand.

“But why-?”

“Because!” she hissed, pointing at him for emphasis. “He’ll reject me and then everyone will find out and then I’ll become the laughing stock of this kingdom for thinking I ever had a chance with him and then I’ll never be able to leave my house again! So do not tell him, understand?”

Chat, to her surprise and indignation, had the audacity to chuckle.

“I don’t know why you think he’ll reject you, you are a lovely woman.”

When she only blinked at his enunciation of the words, oblivious as to what he was getting at, he closed his eyes and sighed for a brief moment.

“Regardless,” he continued after he opened his eyes, flashing her a grin. “I won’t tell him. Cat’s honor.”

He placed his right hand over his heart as he made the vow, at the same time he raised his left in the air.

While she was skeptical of the sly expression he wore, he did promise not to tell Prince Adrien. She mentally scoffed, figuring he only had that look because he was only going to tease her throughout the night for her feelings.

“Very well, chaton. I’ll dance with you.”

His eyes shined with satisfaction, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.

The next day, after the hype from the ball had long ago worn off, Lady Marinette was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter addressed solely to her. She figured it to be from Alya, no doubt in order to berate her for leaving her to dance with a stranger.

The thought made her giggle before she accepted the note from the servant.

Only for the amusement to immediately die down once she observed just where the letter came from. With wide eyes and a new, nervous rhythm of her heart, she broke the wax seal and flipped the paper open.

Dear Lady Marinette,

I hope you are having a wonderful morning. I apologize for not being able to attend the ball your family hosted last night, for I was caught up with other duties. I hope you are able to find it in your kind heart to forgive me.

If you were not at all busy today, I was wondering if you would perhaps consider spending the afternoon with me at the palace. Besides having lunch and strolling around the grounds together, there is something I would like to ask of you.

This request is for you, and you alone, My Lady. Of course, you are free to decline, either the request or the visit, or even both if you so wish. Although, I will be honest with you, in that I very much hope you decide to come.

If you do wish to visit, please send word soon after you have made your decision. If not, please kindly disregard this note and I shall never bring up the subject again.

Sincerely Yours,

Adrien, Crown Prince of France

“Marinette?” Sabine asked whilst entering the dining room. Her head tilted in confusion upon seeing her daughter’s flustered state. “Are you alright? Who is that letter from?”

But her daughter couldn’t answer, for she promptly swooned and fell right out of her chair.

Don’t worry, she was fine and able to go to the palace xD

Don’t You Leave Me Brokenhearted Tonight

A/N: i legit never thought i’d do a series, but I feel a newfound inspiration to do so. i’ve been singing brokenhearted by karmin all fucking week so this whole idea came to me from that and thinking about drugs’ abilities & here i am writing somethin’ out of it

so strap on ya socks, grab some snacks & tuck yourself in bc my writing sucks but i want people to read anyways :)

WC: 1.7k

enjoy!! x

P A R T  O N E

Lights in deep shades of purples and reds. Solo cups littered along the carpet that was bound to reek of beer and vodka by the end of the night. A pop song of sorts coming from the stereo speakers in the farthest corner of the living area. This night was hell-bound for disaster. The marijuana wafting through the thick cold air wasn’t much welcomed to my nose, but I’m no stick in the mud. A—borderline overwhelming stench—wasn’t gonna hinder my good time.

I didn’t stress and breakdown in tears of anger everyday these past two weeks to turn my ass around. I wanted to at least try to enjoy the party. “I promise, it won’t be that bad.” Mani assured me, slathering her lips in a cherry red lipstick from her makeup vanity. I believed her. As my bestfriend since 6th grade, she’s never steered me into anything that would kill me. Get me grounded? All the time. Make me question the safety of our friendship? Depends on the severity. However, she’s always proven that she was someone I’d love having by my side.

With never dragging me into the dark side, she was right. The party was in full swing—or at least I assume it is—and I’m still not broken or passed out on a couch somewhere while two teenagers eat each others’ throats out beside me. I guess tonight can’t be that bad.

I scamper into a tiny overpopulated makeshift kitchen to find a drink, seeing cans and 2 liter bottles of sodas, untouched Solo cups of assorted colors and sizes, bottles upon bottles of liquor, and a large punch bowl full of crushed ice occupying the counter tops. Thank god. Vodka won’t be my only option. I could possible be the DD tonight. The last thing I need is a totaled car and hospital bills racking up past my tuition.

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tallbutshort9  asked:

Hi!! First of all congratulations. :D I would like to make an angsty request if you're still open to it. It's inspired by Kojuro's story event: when MC tried to leave him (for his sake) and lied to him about having a new love. Would you please write about the Lords (plus Shigezane, Nobuyuki, and Hotaru) reactions to MC doing a similar thing and successfully leaving them? If this has been done before or falls into the category of being unfaithful then please ignore this. <3 Thank you xxo

omg this was so much harder than the one about kittens i s2g

MC leaving because of Reasons headcanon

- Nobunaga is enraged and tells you to get out and never come back, so you do just that. He regrets it after a while, but he’s too proud to go after you. He wants to think you still love him, but he’s afraid that maybe you really don’t anymore. Mitsuhide quietly keeps tabs on you for Nobunaga’s sake.
- Mitsuhide suspects what’s going on and tries to talk it out with you. You tell him that his persistence is making you very uncomfortable. You move out of his house and back into Nobunaga’s castle. You can’t avoid each other because of work, but you both try to stay professional.
- Yukimura is devastated and refuses to hear you out. You explain things to Lord Shingen, who reluctantly agrees to have you sent back to Kyoto. He tries to go after you, and is truly heartbroken when you look him in the eye and tell him that it’s over.
- Saizo is fully aware that you’re bluffing. But he knows you’ve always tried your best to hold on to him, and that he can’t say the same for himself. He thinks you can find someone better, so he lets you go. He still keeps watch over you, but you don’t know.
- Masamune is shocked but absolutely forbids you to leave. He demands a proper explanation, grabs your hands and begs you to stay. You’re his family, he needs you. Kojuro and Shigezane understand your situation, but don’t think you should leave. They’re afraid that Masamune will stop eating and collapse again. You’re guilted into staying, so you’re forced to rebuff him, over and over and over again…
- You’ve pulled this kind of thing on Kojuro before, so he thinks that he’ll get you back sooner or later. By the time he realises that you’re not giving in, it’s too late. He’s always been secretly worried about whether he’s too old and just not right for you. The insecurity gets him.
- Hideyoshi sees right through you, but he can’t convince you to stay, and he’s not the type to physically block you from leaving. He sends you letters, reminiscing about the things you used to do and the future you imagined together. He sends you gifts, things that you like, things that you mentioned once offhand in a casual conversation. You don’t reply.
- Inuchiyo takes you at face value and is furious. He demands to know exactly who this other guy is. You tell him that this type of reaction is exactly what you hate about him. He’s hurt and stunned and reacts by punching a wall. You double down on your criticism of his violent tendencies, and take the opportunity to escape while he’s still trying to process what’s happening.
- Part of Ieyasu thinks that you’re lying, but his knee-jerk reaction is to call you the most awful names. He’s cold and vicious, just like how he used to be. He tells you to get the hell out of Mihara before he decides to kill you.
- Mitsunari is annoyed because he thinks you’re kicking up a fuss over nothing. He scowls and tells you to get over yourself. He only realises you were serious after you leave, but is too prickly and proud and contrary to go after you.
- Shingen is puzzled. Who is your new lover, and in what way is he superior to Takeda Shingen? He wants to meet him first before letting you go. You stand your ground and the confrontation ends in a stalemate. You alternate between outright hostility and the cold shoulder until he gives in.
- Kenshin is Not Impressed (mostly because Kanetsugu has been on top of things and has told him exactly what you’re up to). He tells you that if you really want to leave, it should be for your own sake, and not his.
- Shigezane is confused and upset, and tells you he can’t possibly just let you go like this. But he’s always been insecure about relationships, and he especially fears losing his girl to someone else. You tell him he’s too much of a joker, he’s not serious about anything, you want someone more mature, and it hits him where it hurts.
- Yeah… Nobuyuki isn’t letting you leave, no matter what. You should just give up.
- Hotaru is super confused and hurt when you tell him you never want to see him again. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know how to deal with relationships because of his upbringing. He takes you at face value - you don’t see him, but he sees you. He goes to check on you whenever he can, but stays out of your sight.

Heartlines - Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: When Reader moves into Avengers Tower to finish her PhD in safety, the last thing she expects is to have something in common with the shy insomniac Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: psychological and physical abuse, torture, panic attacks, mental illness

A/N: sooo drama happens… let me know what you think!! also please read the warnings, they apply very much to this part and the next one

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 5A, Part 6Part 7, and  Part 8

Part 4

Because she is a saint and probably descendant from God, Pepper drags you out of your study lair for a girls night - just the two of you. Pepper has had FRIDAY ban Tony from their two-floor apartment and set everything up herself. Foot spas, face masks, nail polish, every kind of ice-cream you can think of, and your guilty pleasure - early 2000’s rom-coms. Your favourites are anything with Sandra Bullock or J-Lo.

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anonymous asked:

look i get it its annoying to get asked that over and over but no need to be such a witch about it. this is the internet---lesson one, since you seemed to have failed to have notice--almost no one reads the ToA, FAQ, About, etc. just doesnt happen. so you can continue to waste energy getting pissy or you can ignore/delete the ask in question, because at the end of the day, we all know you're only going to write what you have the inspiration for anyways, so take the begging a compliment, move on

Look, if I am being completely honest, I cannot comprehend why you wasted your time on messaging me this. I understand where you are coming from, but also, instead of seeing this from the perspective of an outsider/reader who believes they are entitled to 1. speak for others in regards to whether they read FAQs or not – seriously, the number of messages that I receive saying: “I couldn’t see my question in your FAQ, so (insert question here)?” completely disproves your statement  – and to 2. tell me in what manner I can and cannot behave on my own blog, how about you just step into my shoes for a moment. Only one moment, because, y’know, who would wanna be a witch like me for any longer than that.

As much as a writer, such as myself, creates for their own entertainment, we also enjoy sharing those creations with others to bring them a slice of that entertainment too. We give, and give, and give. Completely free of charge, done in our own personal time, and without demanding anything in return. Yes, we receive incredibly lovely compliments on our stories, we receive likes and sometimes reblogs, which is a true honour – though they are not things that we rudely demand, nor beg for from our readers like they have to compliment, like, or reblog our works because we want them to. It is a mutual cycle of giving and taking.

Though the thing is that, for a very small minority of these readers, they let this get to their heads and they start to beg or demand for more, most especially when the writer may be putting out content that they love, but it is not the stuff that the readers are specifically wanting. They begin to forget that the writer is not a machine who works by their command, so they begin to speak to and treat them in that way. And sure, you can say that the begging is a “compliment” – but is it really? Personally, and more specifically in regards to that message you are referencing, it has made me feel rushed and forced to write TDSOTI, which I well and truly know it has been about three months since I posted the first part, and thus, I am already feeling the immense pressure to have it finished without getting messages like that. On top of this, I just uploaded the second part of AOFS yesterday that has a count of 14,000+ words, which yeah, may take less than an hour for you to read, but it takes days upon weeks to write. In regards to those who send me these begging and demanding messages about certain stories, it makes me think: “Oh, are they not enjoying the other stories that I’m writing?” and “But I only just posted ___ a day or two ago… Can I not have a break first?” 

We delete these messages, yet they keep coming back until we say something. But when we do say something, we get sweet little messages like your own trying to put us into our supposedly righteous place because we stepped out of line and spoke our true feelings for once.

Welcome to my witchy shoes. Not so comfy, are they?

What I do not understand about your stance on this issue is the moment that we ask our readers for a single thing back, yeah, just one thing; a teeny, tiny thing as simple as reading a few answered questions that take no more than a minute or so to do and 95% of the time provide instant results, you are suggesting that suddenly we, the writers, are the ones being entitled? Lesson one, kid, if a reader does not have the common courtesy to respect a writer’s sole request to read their FAQ, where the reader will literally have their answer within a minute rather than having to wait hours or days for the writer to respond to them with practically the exact same thing; then they are undeserving of respect in return. I apologise, but they are just the facts, and you, my pal, clearly need to take a slice from that steaming respect pie.

All in all, this is not a matter of being justifiably annoyed over begging anons, nor of the way we writers construct our blogs and implement our FAQs for not only us but also for the benefit of our own readers; this is a matter of mutual courtesy and respect between the creators and their audience. Give, and it will be given back. Now please, move on from my blog because you are damn right that this is the internet, and I will not hesitate to block your ass without mercy if you or anyone else messages me bullshit like this again.

Originally posted by yourpinkpill


Thank you for your request and thank you so much for waiting!

Originally posted by grayground

CL drummed her fingers impatiently against the arm of her desk chair. They had been working for hours now with only laughable results and Gray could feel her eyes boring into him. He tried to tell himself that he was over thinking it, remind himself that she was actually a sweet person despite her stage persona, but he always found himself being extra cautious around her.

“What’s wrong with you today?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

He made a feeble attempt at concentrating. Even putting a hand to his headphones like he was listening for something. CL rolled her chair towards him, her legs practically brushing against his, so that she could study his face more closely.

“We can work on this another day,” she said. “When you’re feeling more up to it.”

She stood up to leave but Gray motioned for her to stay.

“I told you nothing’s wrong. I can do this.”

“Gray, I’ve seen you produce a beat from scratch in five minutes. You’ve been working on just the base for over an hour.”

He dejectedly tossed his headphones on his desk and buried his face in his hands. She was right. He’d come to work this week with the full intention of being productive but his mind kept wandering to all the things he’d been neglecting lately. His social life, his sleep, but most importantly you. What he wouldn’t give just to hear your laugh again.

CL wasn’t his first choice to talk to about what was really going on. But she was there and she was listening which counted for something.

“There’s someone I’ve been talking to lately. I haven’t seen her in a while and I guess I just, you know, miss her.”

“I knew it!”

She let out a short laugh as she relaxed back against the chair, waiting for him to continue.

“You knew it?”

“Just look at your office. It’s so clean. Cleaner than Jiyong’s at least,” she corrected herself when she saw the trashcan nearly overflowing with Soju bottles and food wrappers. “You don’t keep a lot of sentimental stuff around. Except for this one birthday card.” She picked it up to demonstrate. Gray held out his hand to take it from her but she ignored him. “I already read it while you were in the bathroom.”

“You went through my stuff?”

“Just the card. I had to know what made it so special.”

No wonder people are afraid of you, Gray thought as he snatched the card away from her and placed it carefully inside his desk drawer. He saw the guilt flicker across her face just before she looked away and he knew that this wasn’t her idea. Their friendship had never developed the same candidness that she had with the others.  Someone had put her up to this, most likely Simon, but that didn’t make him want to humor the conversation any further.

“So..,” she said hesitantly.


“What are you going to do about it?”

He didn’t have an answer for her, not the one he knew she wanted to hear, so he turned his attention back to his monitor as if that could make the conversation dissipate. As if stopping her meant everyone would leave him to bury his intentions until he had time to fathom them out for himself. But that wasn’t possible. Not when the rest of the crew had clearly decided something needed to be done on his behalf.

“Ignoring things won’t solve your problems, Gray.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But it won’t cause any either.”

“It already has. At least from what Simon tells me.”

Knew it.

“You can’t just string her along like she’s a toy,” she continued. “Both of you care about one another. That much is obvious even to me but there will come a point when knowing you care won’t be good enough. You need to say something or do you not think she’s worth it?”

“Of course she’s worth it!” He didn’t mean to yell but losing you was not something he liked thinking about. “Why do you think this is so hard for me?”

“But what are you so afraid of?”

“That I’ll say the wrong thing. That I’ve misinterpreted our friendship. That I’m asking too much of her too soon.”

“That’s you trying to rationalize being selfish.”

“Then what would you have me do?”

“Stop thinking and just do it. No planning. No speeches. And no clichéd song writing.” Seeing Gray cringe at the mention of song writing made CL smile a bit. She moved closer to him; taking hold of his hands before he could shy away from her. “Practice with me.”

It felt weird confessing to her. Gray tried his best to visualize you instead but his words came out stunted and awkward like lines he’d plagiarized from a poorly scripted movie. There was no trace of passion behind them. Only the distinct urge to get this over with as he rattled off words like “love” as if they meant nothing.

If only he hadn’t been too wrapped up in his own embarrassment to hear the shuffling of footsteps outside his office door. Jay’s voice saying your name a little too loudly to give him a warning. You standing frozen in the doorway, your arms laden with food for them all, as you listened to him confess to someone else.

He stood up the moment he noticed you. You let the bags of food fall to the floor before he could say anything as you turned on your heel to leave. By the time Gray called after you, you were already at the lobby. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn back and face him. Your strength was like paper but the one thing you were determined to do was not let him see you cry. You loved Gray and if that meant letting him be happy with someone else then so be it…


Gray fumbled with the keypad to your apartment. He couldn’t stop his fingers from trembling despite the small wave of relief he felt when he heard the door lock click that you hadn’t changed to code already. None of this was supposed to have happened and the only thing he could think as he hurried through the doorway was that somehow he was going to make things right.

You heard the door and tried to go hide in your bedroom but Gray was quicker than you anticipated. He blocked your way before you could even leave the living room and you both stood there in stunned silence for a moment.

He noticed how you flinched when he said your name and his chest tightened. The betrayal you felt was evident in your eyes in the brief contact you managed to make with his. What was he putting you through? He didn’t even want to imagine the things that had been going through your mind in the time it took him to recover from you running out of the studio.

CL had been right. The things he’d left unsaid too long had caused more damage than he could have anticipated. But he wouldn’t let that happen next time because he didn’t want there to be a next time. He didn’t want to categorize his life from now on as before and after losing you.

Before he could think, Gray was crossing the room and wrapping his arms around the small of your back. His lips were on yours in a heartbeat as he pulled you against him. You were too stunned to reciprocate but he kept trying; his mouth gently imploring you to forgive him.

It was only when he felt your hands pushing against his chest that he realized he’d fucked up. That in his desperation he’d only succeeded in widening the rift between you. His grip tightened in response. In his head he was already scrambling to memorize the details of your face, the sound of his name in your voice, the way you fit in his arms because he knew when he let you go those memories would be all he was left with.

“What the hell, Gray?” You shouted when he finally let you go. Your voice was trembling. Hot tears were streaming down your face but you didn’t care if he saw them anymore.

“I love-”

“No,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to say that to me. Don’t you dare.”

He tried stepping closer to you but you backed away in response. He looked panicked like he was genuinely at a loss as to what to do next which made two of you.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. She never has.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No you don’t understand,” he said, running his fingers through his hair in an exasperated gesture. “She was trying to help me. Ask her. Ask any of the guys and they’ll tell you the same thing. You’re all I think about. You’re the only one that makes me feel grounded. Whenever I picture my future it’s always me standing beside you because that’s all I want.”

Your face softened as he spoke. The Gray you’d become accustomed to was always so reserved. He only showed what he was feeling in a series of subtleties that’d you’d learned to pick up on. Even after everything that you’d seen, there was something about the way in which he spoke then, how raw his words sounded, that made you want to trust him.

“Please just say something. Anything. Even if it’s that you hate me.”

Gray let his head fall as he braced himself for your response.

“I could never hate you,” you whispered which made Gray perk his head back up.

“You believe me?”

“You’re a lot of things, Gray, but you’ve always been a terrible liar.” You gave him a half smile. This time you didn’t move away when he chanced another step towards you. “But I’m still royally pissed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You had to go and have our first kiss while I’m angry with you.”

You both couldn’t help but laugh at the situation and you leaned into Gray’s embrace as you tried to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Gray kissed the top of your head, one of his hands rubbing your back to help soothe you, as a smile plastered his face. It was only when your breathing steadied that he broke the silence.

“Are you still mad at me?”

You nodded.

“In that case, I’m sorry again,” he said as he tilted your chin up and kissed you for the second time. Only this time you kissed him back.

percyyoulittleshit  asked:

6, 9 and 16 in the same drabble

things you said under the stars and in the grass | things you said when i was crying | things you said with no space between us

Annabeth named the constellations in her mind, picking out their shapes and connecting the dots in the night sky, recalling the stories that accompanied each one. If she focused hard enough on counting every star in the sky, she thought, maybe she’d be able to escape her memories.

In Tartarus, there had been times where she’d honestly believed that she’d never see the stars again; that she’d never make it out of there, never get to breath fresh air and see blue sky and know a world that wasn’t made entirely of darkness and death.

She had made it though. She was out, and she was free - but not really.

Every time she heard an unexpected noise she jumped; every time Percy was running late she panicked, convinced that he was gone again; every time someone touched her she flinched. She didn’t feel at home in her own skin anymore. It was like a part of her had stayed behind, trapped in Tartarus. She didn’t know how to fix it.

She didn’t know she was crying until Percy’s hand brushed the side of her face.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked softly, even though he must have already known.

“Reminding myself,” she said, pressing her hands against the green grass, feeling the blades bend beneath her palms, registering the cool dirt ground. “That this is real.”

“It’s real,” he said, voice gentle and calm and not at all condescending. He settled down beside her, lying flat on his back on the top of Half Blood Hill, and grasped her hand where it lay between them. “The ground is solid, the stars are shining, and we’re together.”

Annabeth shifted, lifting their clasped hands up onto her stomach and moving so that their sides were pressed right together. When she spoke next her voice was cracked and broken. “Do you - do you worry, sometimes… that it’s not going to get better?”

Percy turned his head to stare at her, green eyes shining in the moonlight. Annabeth kept her gaze directed firmly at the stars. 

“It’s totally normal, Annabeth,” he said. “to feel like the whole world’s changed. Because it has. And yeah, it’s going to take some time to get used to it, but… We’ll get there. We’re going to be fine.”

She licked her lip and tried to ignore the tears streaming from the corners of her eyes and falling uncomfortably into her ears.

“Hey.” He rolled over to lean over the top of her, propped up on one elbow. “Look at me. Come here.”

When she refused to look at him, trying furiously to blink the tears away and bring the stars back into focus, Percy moved so she was pinned underneath him, supporting his weight on his forearms. 

“Sorry for blocking your view, but this handsome face has to be some compensation,” he joked, and she smiled despite herself. 

The sight of it caused him to grin widely, and he dropped his arms slightly so that their chests were pressed together and there was no space between them at all. Annabeth could feel his heart beating against hers; a strong, steady rhythm. She took a deep breath and forced herself to hold his gaze.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m listening.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You are here. And you’re going to be fine. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Annabeth closed her eyes as he kissed her cheek, eyelashes fluttering against her temple. She could feel solid ground beneath her; Percy’s comfortable weight above her; and over his shoulder she could see the stars. She was going to be okay.

First Date (Biadore) Part 1 - little darling

A/N: don’t know if anyone even particularly enjoys my biadore efforts but I’m sorry I’m such an erratic writer! I wanted this to be better but hey, I wrote it in one evening and decided I may do it in parts - if anyones interested?? I would really appreciate feedback if someone has time to give it! much love ~ little darling

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[unedited] angst-beginning but fluffy-ending supercat smut NSFW

ficlet 2 of 2 for march madness (it’s not as fluffy as I planned but has an extra fluffy ending)


WARNINGS: (assumed) cheating, non-con het kiss, really unhealthy communication, drinking as a bad coping mechanism.

Kara is throwing her toothbrush and shampoo into her bag, on top of the spare set of clothes she keeps at Cat’s, when she hears the front door open. Briefly she considers grabbing what she has and flying out the window. She wants to explain things to Cat more than almost anything, but she knows she hurt Cat and wants to respect her wishes. She owes her that much.

She doesn’t get the chance, Cat practically falls into her bedroom before Kara can hastily wipe the tears from her face. “What are you doing here?” Cat slurs. Kara thinks she means the words to sound harsh but the woman is obviously beyond drunk and it comes out as a pitiful whine.

Kara uses the time it takes Cat to right and prop herself against the dresser to look her over. She smells like a bar and she’s slumping slightly, her usually perfect posture gone with her sobriety. Her eyes are slightly swollen and completely free of mascara. Cat doesn’t cry but she obviously has been tonight and it physically hurts Kara to know she’s the cause. Even if Cat won’t hear or believe her, she has to explain.

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Dear me I waited too long to write this one.

 The Parts I - II - IIIIV - VVIVII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII -  XIII - XIV - XV - XVI

You’re sitting here, an empty seat beside you - your hands folded across your chest and legs crossed, waiting impatiently for Holly to arrive. You were supposed to come to this thing together - but somehow work had delayed the two of you to awkward lengths, resulting in you arriving here first, waiting for her. This was rather awkward - given it was her cousin’s wedding. Weddings aren’t your favorite celebration - needless to say. And the whole set up is enervating enough, and with Holly who’s going to be joining you soon, the two of you together here would be a rather interesting scenario.

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You're Not Like the Beast

You’re not like the Beast By Charlotte-the-ultimate-fangirl

Imagine Loki’s favorite fairy tale being ‘Beauty and the Beast’ 

You were aching all over, but you knew the flat had to be painted today, otherwise you would never do it, and you knew Loki would never do it either. 
You took two steps on your step ladder and lazily painted the walls of your lounge, moaning at each brush movement. Loki walks into the lounge and rolls his eyes at you. 

“(Y/N), I told you not to paint today.” Loki sighed. 
“If I don’t do it today, I won’t ever do it.” You grunt as you carry on, almost ignoring Loki altogether. 
“No. Stop, I don’t want you making yourself worse, I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You just roll your eyes and grumble to yourself. You starting singing ‘Be our Guest’ from Beauty and the Beast, as it is the first thing you thought of to block Loki out. 

“If you’re not going to stop painting will you at least tell me the song, it is catchy.” Loki says curiously.

This puts half a smile on your face. “It’s called, ‘Be our Guest.’ from a Disney movie, ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ It’s rather good, you may like it. You should watch it.” You say hoping it will Stop Loki from bothering you.

“Yea, I will." 

This puts a smile on your face and you sigh with relief.

"But, only with you.” Before you can say anything Loki picks you up, Bridal style and carry’s you to the couch, he gently sits down, placing you on top of him, so he can hold you close. You sigh, then give up, you love being in Loki’s arms.  Loki grins as he knows he won. 

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Day 4: Soulmates AU

Connor knows at seventeen - when he leans over and whispers in Oliver’s ear, “Meet me in the janitor’s closet in ten minutes,” just to watch that blush spread across Oliver’s face - that he will love Oliver Hampton for the rest of his life.

But he also knows that Oliver won’t. He can’t.

Connor wasn’t born with a name anywhere on his body. His soulmate can be whoever he wants.

Oliver has a name on his wrist. Jon. He hides it with a leather band Connor bought him for Christmas with Connor inscribed across the top. The N still pokes out along the side.

Connor stares at it more than he should.

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Sweet Child of Mine, Chapter 1


Laura’s five-year-old daughter accidentally introduces her to Carmilla at a park. The road to love is never smooth but nobody expected it to be like this……

Based on carmillatexts tags on this post.


Chapter 1: Where Paths Cross

The park isa lot more crowded than Carmilla’d anticipated, though if she’s really honest with herself, she’d say that since it’s a Saturday, she should have seen this coming.

Kids run wild over the play structures, swing so high on the swings Carmilla’s almost afraid they’ll fall off and crack their heads open. Parents and babysitters line the edge of the park, sitting on benches or standing in circles. Some have their hands on strollers, and others sit alone, avidly watching whichever child is theirs.

One woman sits directly across from Carmilla, brown hair swinging around her face as she pores over a thick book. A pencil twirls absentmindedly between her fingers and sometimes she leans in to make a mark on a page. Occasionally she looks up, eyes searching the play structure. Not that Carmilla’s watching her or anything.

Carmilla settles back onto her own bench and smiles, raising her book. Her innate stubbornness takes over and she tries to concentrate again. She’s here, she’s dressed, she’s awake, and she’s not going anywhere. All of that effort is not going to be wasted by her giving up.

Something unexpectedly hits Carmilla’s knees and she’s pulled from her book, looking down for the source of her disruption. A little girl is sprawled on the ground in front of her, looking a little shocked.

“Sorry,” she says, concern creasing her brow. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“It’s okay,” Carmilla says with a smile, lowering her book. “You alright there, sweetheart?”

“Only my mom can call me sweetheart,” the little girl says, frowning.

“How about Buttercup? Or Creampuff? Or Cupcake?”

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Hi guys,

So I wrote this out at the very start of the season, after the premiere, and have been asked to repost it. I still believe in my predictions from this post and despite the sheer hell we are going through now, I still think we’re going to be fine. We have four more episodes to go to end all of this and I still believe we will get something that will make it worth our wait. There is STILL a reason they’ve been kept apart all this time! We made it this far, and I think we are almost through the worst of the worst now. Stressful as it is, we can do this!



Hi you guyssssssssssssss.

So I just wanted to share some theories I’ve been playing over in my head (and bugging anyone who will listen with) regarding this season and three main things: Carol, Daryl and of course CARYLLLLL.

I’ve learned that for most shows paying attention to foreshadows is important. Well, on The Walking Dead, it is EVERYTHING. So I always scour each and every scene to look for clues (especially in premieres since these act like theses for how the entire season will play out.)

Imma start with Carol since she is the one people are more concerned over…

In the premiere, Carol’s foreshadow scene comes when she is shown teaching the kids in the class. She starts out reading a very interesting excerpt from “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” by Mark Twain….


"The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and
watched it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of
wick stand alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall,
climb the thin column of smoke, linger at its top a moment,
and then—“

(and this is where she stops and closes the book)

We also then had this little line from her when Patrick asks to be excused:


“Sometimes you have to fight through it. What if you wind up out there - alone? You just give up because you’re feeling bad?”


Right, so, I think they are implying that CAROL IS THE WICK in the excerpt from Twain. That this will be her season to “stand alone at last” and become the woman she always was but never had a chance to prove. Everyone with me? Okay. Now before we get too happy with that specifically, we unfortunately do have to look at the other sentences as well, as it seems as though Carol’s “feeble flame” is going to “rise and fall.”  And that combined with her “What if you wind up out there - alone?” makes me believe that Carol will somehow be separated from the group and will be forced to persevere on her own.

Alright, I know what you’re thinking… WTFFFF YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING ME FEEL BETTER ABOUT CAROL NOT WORSE. Well, hang on guys because this is where it gets awesome: If you will all notice back up in that reading, SHE DOESN’T FINISH HER SENTENCE. A sentence that if continued reads in the actual book as follows:


“and then --the horror of utter darkness reigned!”

It’s very important that she did NOT read that last line. So, imo, YES, she is going to go through something by herself this season. And that something is going to test her strength. BUT the fact that she IS as strong as we all know she is, she is going to “FIGHT THROUGH IT” as she says to Patrick and come out on the other side.

My point here bb’s, is that I really think Carol is going to be just fine this year. They are going to try to scare us but it doesn’t matter because we know better. So just sit back and enjoy our badass queen take over. <3


Ok, let’s move on to Daryl (well, actually this isn’t really so much to do with Daryl’s safety as it is more to do with just his storyline this year because we all know Daryl is NOT going to die yet. Personally, I think he is Patient Zero – a carrier of the virus – but I think they may try to scare us into thinking that he, too, could end up sick or dead (as with all the finger-licking in the premiere) but he is going to be just fine too, guys.)

Anyway, Daryl’s foreshadowing came with his scene with Beth at the end of the episode. He is “tired of losing people.” Well, we have been told that Daryl’s reaction to Beth’s non-emotion for Zack’s death is going to come to mean something later on. Well I think that Beth’s non-reaction is seriously bothering him. He doesn’t like the idea that she is simply so unaffected by a death like that. And I think it is all going to come to a head in the middle of the season - after he witnesses more deaths - where he’ll come to realize that he does NOT want to be that way anymore.

Right, so, how does this have anything to do with Caryl?

I’ll tell you how!

If he is maturing to a point where he realizes that he does not want to block his emotions out then that will translate on screen to the biggest question on the show and THE one that everyone is waiting for - his feelings for Carol to come out. The theme for this season seems to be “having a reason to fight” and as Hershel puts it “choosing what you’re risking your life for.”

Well,I think Daryl’s discovery this season is going to be that CAROL IS HIS REASON.

The premiere showed us that though he is accepting of her teases/flirts now and is even kinda flirting back (a bit of progression in and of itself), he is still seemingly not taking it any further… YET. Well, I believe this season is going to be what alters that thought in his head. He’s going to realize (perhaps after Carol goes missing for a second time during her story arc?) that he doesn’t want to take what they have for granted anymore. And that, yes, he does love her. And I think that is why Gale Anne Hurd says that it would be “the number-one spoiler of the season” because not only does it give Caryl away but also Daryl’s entire storyline. So I’m thinking when they are reunited this time, something is going to go down. ;)

Just my theories but all in all, I think this is going to be an amazing season for Carol, Daryl AND Caryl, guys! 


goodnightgoodnight  asked:

(Not sure how often you check your messages) I am a HUGE fan of your work, and am debating getting the By Chance or Providence book. My issue is, I already have the three stories that you're reprinting but am interested in the sketchbook/extra illustrations. Can you tell me more about those, like how many pages, of what kind? I'd just like to know if I'd be re-buying the stories all over again or if there'd be new content? I hope this doesn't sound rude, I'm sorry. Again, LOVE your work!

Hey! No worries- it’s the same as buying the single issues and then getting the trade- some people like having the book with a spine for their shelf and some people just prefer keeping the issues!

Right now the sketchbook section is an extra 12 pages but I have a lot of material- illustrations and sketches, so I am considering adding another signature- that would be an added 16 pages on top of the 12 if I do, but that is not decided yet. I am going to check with the printer to make sure it won’t effect cost per book too much. If I get enough orders it should be easier to afford.

I’ve also redrawn a few panels that I was not happy with, and added a few pages to Demeter that were originally cut from the mini comic due to page count constraints. I also drew some chapter illustrations for each story, so it’s kind of like a “director’s cut.”

The book itself will be something I know I am going to be very proud of- it’s being printed locally in Montreal so quality will be very good- including a canvas hardcover with gold foil blocking, and a dust jacket. I’ve even got Scott Snyder to agree to write the foreword, hehe

Really it’s up to you! if you already own them, this is a chance to have the trilogy collected in a slightly larger hardcover format! If hardcovers don’t move you and you are satisfied with the minis that is also great because it means I did something right in making them :)

Even if you decide against it, you can always help by spreading the word- talk to your LCS about ordering a few copies, or even just telling your friends about it! I appreciate every reblog and share like you wouldn’t believe

Story Request for Anonymous.

Mark stood in front of his full length mirror. He held up the red & black flannel in one hand, and his crisp white shirt in the other. He toyed with the idea of each one in his head, before settling on the classic red and black flannel, which was now as synonymous with Mark as the pink moustache. He pulled in on over his freshly washed skin, and fastened his buttons. He noticed his hands shake as he did so. He stopped, shook them and shook his head. He had never been this nervous before, but then again he had never done anything like this before. He looked at himself in the mirror again. He stepped closer, getting frustrated every time the glass got fogged with condensation.

He took the hair gel, which stood on the night stand next to him. He took a piece of the cold blue goop and ran it through his fingers before styling, or at least attempting to style the mop of brown hair which now occupied his head. 

‘Its at times like this I miss the faux’ he mutters to himself, wiping the excess hair gel onto his discarded towel which was still damp from his shower. One last time he stood in front of the mirror and smiled. 

You stand in front of the mirror. You hold up your two favourite outfits in each hand. You decide to go with the one in your left, after all everyone said it brought out your eyes, and more than ever, today you wanted to look beautiful. You carefully pull the dress over your head, desperately trying not to mess up the make up you just spent too much of your life perfecting. You untangle your long hair from underneath the dress, and sweep it to the right hand side. You pull your fringe down and tuck it behind your ear.

You step back and look at yourself one last time and smile. 

You and Mark walk to your seats. You’re both shaking. You both look up and smile. That same smile which looked back at you in the mirror. The same smile which re assured Mark he was ready for this. There was just one quick thing he had to do first.

The camera bleeped. 'Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and this weekend I have decided to do something different. I want to go on a date. With you. With all of you. So, I asked you to get your glad rags on and meet me on Omegle. I will be here for the next two days. Talking, laughing, flirting and smiling with as many of you as possible. I hope to see you there…’

You sit. You have the Omegle screen in front of you.

They all sit. They have the Omegle screen in front of them.

Thousands all sat. They all had the Omegle screen in front of them.

Hours past. Your smile slowly fading. Your hair falling out. Your make up smudging with each hand rest. You yawn, tears come down your face and you see the black mascara run. You wasn’t crying, your eyes were just sensitive. You sigh and stand up. You take off your best dress. You wipe off your now imperfect make up, and place your hair in a bun on the top of your head. You throw your own flannel on. You take your seat and pull your knees up on the chair, resting your chin on them as everyone skips you as quick as they can. Some say hi. But its rare. You’re not the one they are looking for.

'Hi.’ A smile says.

You stare in disbelief. 

'Wow. You’re beautiful’ Mark says. He clears his throat. His smile came back. 'Whats your name?’ He says softly.

You answer his questions. He answers yours. Its like you were best friends. You never want it to end. In a way you never let it. Every so often you would close your eyes and hear him say it again 'Wow. You’re beautiful’ Maybe he said it to everyone. You didn’t care. He said it to you. You would never forget that.

[The end. As you will know I’ve been having a writing confidence block. But I think I like this. Feedback would be awesome. Thank you.]

anonymous asked:

I love the way you write the Amis (in all of your fics), and just the way you keep everything flowing and keep the story going just -- you're great! I would like to start up my writing again and I just feel really nervous getting back into it, especially because I felt I was "good" before but now I feel like I've gone below that level of "good" if that makes sense :'D , I say all this to ask: have any writing tips? What works for you?

hi! thanks!

ohhhh my god i wish i could be more helpful than i am about to be:

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