a/n: weeeellll…. I managed to write something for Kaidan week. does it fit with the daily themes? nah, maybe not, but have some feels <3
Shepard hovers over the comm link in her cabin for longer than she keeps track of, not knowing how to make a call like this. She’s done it plenty of times, for all the soldiers fallen under her command. She did it for Jenkins, for Ashley. She didn’t want to have to do it for anyone else. Though there isn’t a casualty to report, this feels just as terrible in the pit of her stomach.
She swallows and presses send. The comm channel blinks a few times, and it begins to ring. She shuts her eyes and hopes maybe she can just leave a message, but even then… she doesn’t know what she could possibly say.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice says over the speaker.
Shepard’s thought about meeting Kaidan’s parents plenty of times. He used to talk about it plenty, and tell her how much they’d love her, and how eager they were to meet her. They had plans to meet his parents, just a month or so after stopping Saren. They were going to head back to Vancouver, and spend the trip with them. Kaidan kept teasing surprises he had up his sleeve for the trip. She suspected he was planning on proposing. And she was planning on telling him they were having a baby. But then she died, and none of those plans mattered.
“Mrs. Alenko? It’s Commander Shepard.”
There’s a pause, and Shepard knew it well. It’s the sound of parents realizing that they’re about to learn their child is dead. It’s the sound of trying to come up with other reasons why a commanding officer would call them.
“Hi Commander, how are you?” she says quietly.
The galaxy is coming to an end, I’m in the middle of a shit load of political fuckery, the love of my life is comatose, and I could really use a goddamn nap and back massage, she thinks to herself. But if there’s anyone she wants to be professional for, it’s Kaidan’s mother.
request - May u pppplllzzzz write an imagine where reader being Michelle’s younger sister and liking peter and him calling her cute names bc she’s younger and she finds Liz and him making out one day and u can finish it off🤗🤗thank you!!
word count: 1529
sidenote: lmao i’m sorry if i accidentally put tom instead of peter in here at one point, i’m so used to writing about tom yIkES
‘ our love fern! you let it die! ’ ‘ no, honey. it’s just sleeping. ’ ‘ unattached? ’ ‘ psycho? ’ ‘ interested? ’ ‘ hungry? ’ ‘ you can’t lose something you never had. ’ ‘ i’m gonna make you wish you were dead. ’ ‘ poor guy. ’ ‘ listen, you can’t name my… member princess sophia. ’ ‘ is she on something? ’ ‘ are you saying i’m some kind of mental person? ’ ‘ true or false: all’s fair in love and war. ’ ‘ let’s take a break because the woman is driving me crazy. ’ ‘ so that’s what i was, huh? i was a guinea pig. somebody you can test you theories on? ’ ‘ i was just a girl somebody picked out in a bar. ’ ‘ you know what? big deal! ’ ‘ hell, i’m sure now you can even use it as a little twist in your story. ’ ‘ that’s a good idea. maybe we should bet on it. ’ ‘ you wanted to lose a guy in ten days, congratulations, you just did it. you lost him. ’ ‘ you’re the first girl he ever brought home. ’ ‘ don’t you break his heart. ’ ‘ the one night that we even thought about having sex, she up and decides she’s going to name my penis princess sophia. ’ ‘ you owe me three hundred bucks. ’ ‘ c’mon, blow. nobody likes a mr. sniffles. ’ ‘ i hate mr. sniffles. ’ ‘ do you have an ethical problem with rifling through a woman’s purse? ’ ‘ it’s hardly a purse, dude. it’s more like a clutch or something. ’ ‘ a woman’s purse is the secret source of power. ’ ‘ there are many dark and dangerous things in there, that we, the male species, should know nothing about it. ’ ‘ my boyfriend thinks i’m fat! ’ ‘ so, tell me, how long have you guys been seeing each other? ’ ‘ i love you, binky… but i don’t have to like you right now. ’ ‘ you see, the key to this game is being able to read people. ’ ‘ where’s the sexy, cool, fun, smart, beautiful you i met? ’ ‘ you’re up, you’re down, you’re here, you’re there – you’re like a frickin’ one woman circus. ’ ‘ due to intense humiliation, the king has momentarily abdicated his throne, okay? ’ ‘ take care of our love fern, honey. ’ ‘ now i’m going to go back inside and finish watching ‘sleepless in seattle’. nobody screw with me. ’ ‘ i don’t think i can be with someone who doesn’t like animals and thinks i’m a mental person. ’ ‘ look, just give me back the necklace and then you guys can go kill each other. ’ ‘ oh, you are never going to pull this off. ’ ‘ tonight, i’ll hook a guy. tomorrow, pull the switch. before the ten days are up, i’m going to have this guy running for his life. ’ ‘ you’re not going to burn his apartment down or bite him, or anything? ’ ‘ the whole family suffers from tourette’s, i hope that’s not a problem. ’ ‘ *points to crotch* does princess sophia want to come out and play? ’ ‘ drunk and tone-deaf is not a good combination. ’ ‘ you named my penis after a dame! ’ ‘ you’re so vain. ’ ‘ you probably think this song is about you. you probably think this song is about you, don’t you? ’ ‘ you fooled me to win a bet and you should feel ashamed. ’ ‘ you took me to a goddamn celine dion concert. ’ ‘ you made me miss the big game! ’ ‘ oh, smart guy’s a rhymer! ’ ‘ do we want everyone to know that you’re love making is lame? ’ ‘ you know, i really think you have to get over that. ’ ‘ c’mon, you’re so vain. you know that this song is about you, don’t you? ’ ‘ is this true or are you just trying to sell magazines? ’ ‘ i meant every word. ’ ‘ where are you going? ’ ‘ no, i’m not buyin’ that. i think you’re running away. ’ ‘ why don’t you save your mind games for your next bet? ’ ‘ bullshit. ’ ‘ you heard me: bullshit. ’ ‘ i love everything about this house… the noise, the smells. ’ ‘ when your mom hugged me today, she really hugged me… for winning a game of bullshit. ’ ‘ okay, that’s it. that’s good. at least you’re scaring me. ’ ‘ i’m taking this love fern with me! ’ ‘ you gotta watch him, he farts like a howitzer, but he’s family. ’ ‘ why do they always forget my bacon? ’ ‘ i can’t believe you got that guy knocked out. ’ ‘ when are you seeing him again? ’ ‘ disgusting! i can barely eat over here. ’ ‘ i have to crack this guy. i mean, this is defcon 5 and i have to do something truly appalling. ’ ‘ like, do blondes, like, do they have more fun? ’ ‘ hanging out with her for ten days is gonna be no problem. ’ ‘ oh, you are already falling in love with me. ’ ‘ you’re not a therapist, are you? ’ ‘ seven days isn’t like a lifetime or anything but… ’ ‘ smile. now give me a smile. ’
It had been twenty
years since Todoroki Shouto died.
It had been twenty
years since Izuku received Shouto’s last phone call, on a pretty spring day
where the sun was gleaming and the sky was brilliant, where Shouto had left the
house, claiming he would go out on a run and come back home as soon as
It had been twenty years
since Shouto went missing for several hours, much longer than “a little late”,
and, concerned, Izuku had prowled the streets, trying to find where his fiancé
It had been twenty
years since he’d tapped into location services, knowing Shouto’s phone would
have still been on, and had been confused when it lead him to the isolated part
of the city, within a long-abandoned construction site.
It had been twenty
years since Izuku found Shouto’s body, pale and covered in blood, a metal beam
sticking out of his stomach and a cracked, bloody phone by his head.
It had been twenty
years since Izuku held Shouto’s corpse in his arms, sobbing, crying, and
cursing, holding Shouto’s cold left hand tightly and desperately clutching onto
the silver, bloody engagement ring he had given to Shouto so long ago.
It had been twenty
years since Izuku lost his world, and, consequentially, lost himself.
As of this year, Izuku
reached forty-two years and ten months, the title of Number One Hero under his
belt while being renown as one of the most self-destructive heroes. He was a
workaholic, constantly taking down as many villains as possible per day, and
rarely took time off for himself. His old teachers, classmates, and mother had
constantly expressed concern for his mental state, begging for Izuku to take
more time off for himself—to see a therapist and do something other than fight and fight and fight
And today… today is
Shouto’s twentieth death anniversary.
He was always drawn to their soft voice, girly smiles and kind eyes.
It was the reason why he liked Marinette so much in his youth. She was nice, caring and gentle; the type to whisper soft nothings and day dream about the sky.
Hell she wasn’t even his first crush, his short list of past romances is filled with being drawn to chime-like laughter and gentle attitudes. There was even a time where he fancied Rose for a time being.
So he doesn’t know where the embarrassing flush of his cheeks comes from whenever Chloe Bourgeois is in proximity.
Gentle is the complete opposite of what Chloe is. She’s brash, blunt, stubborn and Haughty. Not at all like Marinette or Rose or anyone of his past crushes on the matter, She’s just so Wrong that Nathanael can’t help but feel confused at his obvious infatuation to Blonde Bourgeois.
To top it all of, she was his bully ever since grade school before she decided to turn over a new leaf and make amends, In fact he should be running for the hills instead of looking like a dazed fool whenever Chloe makes eye contact with him.
But right now, as he watched the Blonde walk down the aisle with her father in tow, he can’t help but feel the whole world dissolve around her as she grinned cheekily at him. Her blonde hair flowing freely behind her as her white gold tiara kept her bangs in place.
The whole church decorated with pale yellows and whites as the soft lullaby of the piano echoed from the back of the church.
He heard Mr. Bourgeois sniffle as he let go of Chloe before taking a seat on the front row benches.
Feeling his cheeks burn Nathanael spluttered when Chloe suddenly grabbed his tux to Peck his cheek.
“Dazed are we, Mr. Kurtzberg” She lightly teased, effectively snapping him out of his trance. She smoothed down the wrinkles of her chiffon gown along with pretty pearls attached to the bodice.
“Cocky aren’t we Chloe” Nathanael replied evenly as he chuckled slightly at his Fiancé’s pout.
“It’s never to late for me to run away with my imaginary Lover, Nathanael” Chloe huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest making Nathanael smile sweetly at her.
“You’ll never find someone as perfect as me Bourgeois, don’t try it” Chloe lightly slapped his arm as she released a loud unlady like laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly as her laughter echoed all over the venue.
“Now who’s the cocky one!!” She exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of almost everyone present at the wedding.
A short reminder that they are inside a church from the priest had them stopping their childish banter as the ceremony started, everyone taking their seats as Chloe turned to face him, her mascara rimmed blue eyes twinkling from under her veil.
Nathanael slowly faced her as he gently raised the veil over her head before letting a smirk quirk on his lips as Chloe sticked out her tongue quickly for the priest not to see.
The priest lightly asked for their attention as he started to explain the concept of marriage like a text book, his voice old and rough as it resonated around the church.
Nathanael couldn’t help but look at the Chloe from the corner of his eyes.
She was whole head smaller than him even with the heels and her eyes seemed too focused on the mechanical voice of the priest to notice his staring.
Years ago, Nathanael would confidently say that his future wife would be the sweetest most humble woman he would ever meet. Someone who he would probably meet in his job as a fellow artist and quickly fall for and love, someone definitely not Chloe Bourgeois.
But right now as he started awkwardly reciting his supposedly well-practiced vows. Chloe gave him the sweetest smile he has ever seen as her eyes stared up to him charmingly.
Nathanael chuckled slightly as he thought how off his assumption of his future wife was but he knew it doesn’t matter because Chloe was perfect one for him.
Roger sat down across from me with a frustrated sigh.
“Are ye sure ye’re lookin’ in the right place, Brian?” He asked, running a hand through his hair and across his face.
I nodded and continued scanning the endless names from the Tilbury Fort prisoner records. More than one Fraser was listed on every prison record, and twice as many James’s. I tossed my list down, tempted to throw all of the records in the trash.
“Christ, I don’t know if I’ll ever find him. No wonder my mother didn’t search after I was born.” I said, gripping my hair in a vice grip, parts already standing on end.
“Don’t give up, Brian.” The melodious voice of Roger’s wife Brianna said as she placed a tray of tea and scones on the table before us. “You discovered he wasn’t listed amongst those dead, you can and will find him.”
“Thank ye, love.” Roger pressed a kiss onto her palm. Brianna flushed red and pulled away with a half hearted protestation at the quasi-public display of his affection.
“What can I help with?” Brianna asked, hands on her hips and a determined expression set on her face. “And don’t say more food or tea!”
I barked out a laugh and leafed through the pile of unsearched records. “Here, try one of these.”
She took the small stack before curling up next to her husband on the couch.
Request: Hi~could I maybe possibly have a reaction to bts
having an Irish gf??? Thanks
Requested by: themusicalelephant
Set Up: You and your boyfriend were in an inter-racial and
inter-cultural relationship. Sometimes there were hardships and misunderstandings,
but mostly it was an unforgettable experience and a continuous journey. He was very
turned on by your physical differences. He loved your hair, your skin, your
body…and he often fought the urge to show you off. But mostly he felt curious and had fun
learning more about you…
First things first. Food! It wasn’t until dating you that he
was exposed to the heavy and comforting dishes of your culture. At first, he found
them fascinating, since Irish cuisine is very different, almost opposite, to Korean
cuisine. However, it wasn’t long until he himself found comfort in certain dishes.
He learned to make them, practicing with careful instructions from your mom
perhaps, until he was practically an expert.
You came home one day to a very familiar smell. You walk
straight to the kitchen, bags and coat still on your back, and find Jin
stirring the contents of the biggest pot you own. Before questioning how he
entered your apartment you walk over to the pot to see a shimmering, gloopy
stew. Irish beef stew. You look up at Jin, unable to find words of gratitude
for this comforting surprise.
Then he says, “Actually, I was craving beef sooo~~” You hit his arms playfully before he adds, “But I also made
You laugh at his pronunciation. “Colcannon” you correct him,
accepting his welcome-home kiss.
He has always been sure of his English skills, confident
that he’d always be able to hold up a coherent conversation when needed. He had
worked very hard to teach himself a more casual form of English that would make
him more sociable. Never had his skills been questioned more than when
listening to you speak to your family over the phone.
You were both relaxing on the couch, doing your own things
when you receive a call from your family. Immediately, Namjoon’s ears perk up as
he is aware of what is to come. He was familiar with the English accent, which
he picked up from watching the Harry Potter films, but this was on a whole new
level for him. He found your accent very endearing and adored listening to you,
but his curiosity rose up when he heard you using a slang word he had never
“What is langierd?” he asks once your call finishes. You
smile at his cute attempt to copy the word.
“Lang-ered” you responded. “It means drunk,”
He nods in understanding. “It’s so different, Y/N. I want to
learn more!” He says, pulling you into his lap. “Teach me more~”
He knows you have a mouth on you, even though he doesn’t
understand any of it, and he loves it. You weren’t one with a temper but those
rare times when the two of you would argue, he already expected to be called
strange names. He had learned to ignore it, or rather to accept it as an inevitable
thing. In fact, because it was so instinctual for you to release your native
tongue mid argument, he began to stop filtering his.
You were in the middle of a heated conversation, about who
knows what, when you say…
“Do one love wud ye?!”
He stared at you and blinked, before rubbing the back of his
“Aish! This girl…” He said to himself in Korean.
You walk away towards your room to exit the tense situation.
Yoongi, after feeling guilty, goes after you, yelling till his voice cracks, as
it usually does.
“Jagi~~ come back~~”
He took on his role as the boyfriend of an Irish girl very
seriously. Part of him wanted to impress you, as he learned new words of endearment
for you. The other just found that expressing his love in a foreign language
was very beautiful. Not to mention, he reveled in the reactions you gave him
when you least expected him to know those words.
Hoseok had been home waiting for you to visit him. You
decided to stop by the store beforehand, making you later than he expected. In
the meanwhile, his head grew heavier on his shoulders and he slowly drifted to
sleep. When he awoke you were just making your way through the door. He rubs
his eyes and stretches out the arm that had fallen numb under the weight of his
“Achuisle~~~” He whines, finishing the rest in Korean. “come
You turned, trying not to laugh, to see his arms outstretched
for you. How could you resist him when he’s so cute?
You thought that he might be a little nervous about meeting your mom for the first time. Your first concern was how they would interact, since there would be a clear language barrier. But to your surprise they got along more than fine. Jimin loved your mom and would always be more than happy to communicate with her whenever she called. He heard somewhere that he should aim to have a good relationship with any Irish girl’s mom and he felt more than happy to have a good relationship with the woman who raised you. Him, being the sweetheart that he is, would appeal to your mother. She trusted that he would be the ideal boyfriend for you. The thing is, you enjoyed teasing him about it.
You were at one of Jimin’s shootings and were hanging out with the him and boys behind the scenes. He casually pulls up his phone to show you something.
“Y/N, let’s go to this cafe!”
“Yeah, only if you don’t invite my mother also~” you teased, an evil grin on your face.
He looked at you sternly before cracking into an embarrassed smile.
“Yah! I do it for you Y/N!”
As a family man himself, he loved that your culture appreciated
blood relatives. When you first started dating he asked you how many siblings
you had. While you only had one sibling, you did have many cousins. Ever since
he learned this, he wouldn’t stop bothering you about it. He’d mention it in the
least expected of times.
One time you were both ready to sleep. It was 12:00 am, and
the both of you were in bed, warm and cuddled together. The lights were off and
you had begun to shut your eyes when you hear his deep voice beside you.
“Babe…when am I going to meet your family? Will they come
here? “He turned and threw his leg over you. “Should we go there?”
“Tae, we’ll talk about this another time. I’m sleepy~~”
…There is a silence….
“Ok. Next time I have time off we should go there!”
You could feel him smiling to himself beside you.
You’d always known him to be such a tease. He lived to make
fun of you, all out of love of course, and you just grew used to it. As long as
you got to see that adorable smile of his you would accept all his quirks.
You were getting ready to nap in the early afternoon and he
happened to be home lounging around. He watched you walk around the apartment collecting
socks, blankets and a plushy. You felt a stupid smirk on his face.
“What do you want Jeon Jungkook?”
“I heard you Irish women are notoriously cold all the time…”
He pats his lap playfully. “Come here, I’ll warm you up~”
You throw the plushy at him.
“Oh look, guess I’ll warm up Mr. Sniffles instead~~”
When faced with the possibility of losing his youngest subordinate, Roy finds that he simply can’t stand the thought.
After six bodies and one month, they still had no clues. They had no idea who was doing it, who was killing them all, and East City was very, very scared. The governor was even considering implementing a mandatory buddy system so that no one was caught alone, no more lives could be lost, no more children taken from right beneath their noses.
They were coming after East City’s smallest and most innocent. Supposedly, they picked the children up on their way home from school, or whenever they were in a crowded place where they couldn’t make a scene. After all, a crying child being dragged off to a place they didn’t want to be wouldn’t exactly make headlines. And people were so closed off, fearing for their own children, that it was as if they wouldn’t care what happened to anyone else’s.
Mustang could almost relate.
Mustang didn’t often worry for his youngest subordinate and his brother. Fullmetal and Al were two of the strongest kids he’d ever known, and they were master alchemists to boot. They could more than take care of themselves. And even if they couldn’t, they were fairly good at making friends and allies who could help them out of a sticky spot if they needed. So, not hearing from Fullmetal was not something to jump at.
Even if they had argued the last time that he had seen them. Even if it had been different from usual. It hadn’t been semi-playful banter that always had a knack for taking some of the weight from Mustang’s shoulders. Fullmetal had messed up big time on his latest mission, and he had not only gotten himself hurt, he had brought a building down on top of his brother and gotten five employees injured. He had cost the military far too much in damages, he always was, and Mustang needed to make him understand that he simply couldn’t be so reckless all the time.
Summary: A continuation to “Acknowledge”. Louise and the rest of the office workers wonder when Dan and their boss’ relationship is going to become official. Contains pastel!Dan + rich and successful Phil.
“Good morning,” Louise greeted Dan on the Friday of his third week at Lester Global Inc. He was wearing a cute button up lavender colored shirt with sleeves that reached his mid elbow, accompanied with another pair of white skinny jeans. The flower crown that sat atop his head was a combination of pink and white flowers, looking absolutely beautiful. Louise shook her head and set her things on the desk.
“You just get cuter everyday. I think that’s my favorite crown so far.”
“Thanks, Mr. Lester got it for me.” Dan informed her, cheeks flushing as he instinctively felt for the crown.
“I am actually sorry, you know. About putting you in the
Sherlock looks up from his appreciation of the assortment of
Mrs Hudson’s finest biscuits and rolls his eyes. “I knew there was a reason you
decided to share these. You’ve been hiding the chocolate-dipped ones behind
Mrs Hudson folds her hands in her lap and does look
repentant, though Sherlock is going to maintain a healthy distance from her for
a while. He still has a bruise on his elbow from her ‘driving’.
“Well, you were
shooting my walls again. And making so much noise!”
Sherlock settles back in one of Mrs Hudson’s hideously
floral armchairs. “It was for a case.”
“No, no, no, don’t you dare try to pull that on me, young
man,” says Mrs Hudson, raising a chiding finger.
“Fine. You were saying something about being sorry?”
“Yes, I was.” Mrs Hudson’s chastising tone softens around
the edges. “You were behaving quite poorly, but that doesn’t excuse cramming
you into a confined space.” She gives him a meaningful look. “These walls are
thin, you know.”
Sherlock tries not to become preoccupied with what his
nightmares may or may not have revealed. Instead he says, “Your masterful performance
at the therapist was apology enough.”
Mrs Hudson’s face breaks into a beaming smile. “It was all
quite fun, really, getting to be a part of things. So exciting!”
The Sherlock of years gone past would have made some smart
remark or simply said nothing at all. But Sherlock’s not that man anymore.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Mrs Hudson frowns and purses her lips. “For shooting my walls?
For scaring us all half to death?”
“For yelling. On more than one occasion.”
She blinks at him as if confused, but Sherlock knows she’s
cleverer than that.
“The walls were thin in Florida, too,” he admits.
Her faux frown morphs into troubled sadness. Sherlock hates
that look on her face; actually, he hates any sort of upset marring her face.
He leans forward and reaches out, gently placing his left hand over hers.
“I will do my best to resist any unnecessary shouting in the
Mrs Hudson sniffles. “Oh, Sherlock.”
“Now, now, Mrs Hudson. Stiff upper lip, yes?” he reassures.
Her chin wobbles a bit, but she manages. She gives him a
watery smile. “And no more boots.”
He squeezes her hands but doesn’t let go just yet. Eventually
they will go back to drinking Mrs Hudson’s lovingly-prepared tea and Sherlock
will eat all her chocolate-dipped biscuits.
And of course, they will both keep their promises.
A first-hand encounter with the Slenderman leaves a boy without a friend and a future of uncertainty.
Are you familiar with Slenderman? You should be. He’s been an internet sensation for some time now, and every day people create new and fantastical stories of horror and blood and terror that center around him. Of campers getting lost in the woods and seeing something tall and lanky moving within the shadowy bows of distant trees. Of people finding entrails and carcasses strung up, as if in warning. Tales of harrowing visits from a faceless man in their homes in the dark of night.
These people are wrong. They always were. They want the Hollywood spectacle, the shock factor, the jump scare. But they don’t know Slenderman. Not like I know him. Of course, I knew him before we called him Slenderman.
I was seven years old, enjoying recess on a crisp autumn afternoon with my best friend Travis, who I’d known since before I had memories to remember. We were doing what boys do, making dares, throwing rocks, playing in the dirt. We were excited because school was almost over, it was Friday, and we had big plans for a sleepover weekend. Precisely what children would be excited about. But as we played, I noticed something was off about Travis. His attention kept slipping, diverting to the shade of the pine trees lining the far side of the playground.
The teachers told us not to play in the woods behind the school because of coyotes and cougars that stalk down from the mountain, and though I’d never seen anything I’d always wanted to. I asked Travis if he saw something in the woods, the possibility of maybe seeing a wild animal sparking a thrill of anticipation.
“No, I… no, it’s nothing.” Was what Travis replied. He didn’t sound sure of himself, but he kept looking back at those woods. As recess was close to wrapping up, Travis started walking to the woods, checking to make sure the Playground Monitor’s attention was elsewhere. I, being his friend, trotted after while voicing my misgivings. I wanted to see what had Travis’ interest piqued, but I knew we were not supposed to be in those woods, and I feared the talking to I would get if we were caught far more than any coyote.
“Travis, let’s get out of here, we’re gonna get in trouble.” I whispered when we had breached the tree-line.
The pine trees were old, their trunks thick enough around that Travis and I could hug one and our fingertips wouldn’t touch. The canopy of those ancient sentinels blocked most of the sunlight, save for the occasion beam of light that struggled to reach the ground. I felt that us being out there was a violation, not only of the school rules but of something else as well. Something darker. Perhaps it was my imagination, young as I was, but my enthusiasm was draining and soon I was left with little else but dread.
We walked for maybe fifty yards before we stopped in small clearing. Travis stood there silently and I tugged on his sleeve, trying to pull him back the way we’d come. If we didn’t hurry, we’d miss the bell and our teacher would yell at us. At least, that was the excuse I gave, but that oppressive feeling of terror knotting my stomach was my real motivation. But Travis just stood there, and that’s when I felt something move. I didn’t see anything, no, but I felt it. I turned and looked around, trying to spot what was gliding through the trees.
Have you ever felt like you’re being watched, even when you’re all alone? It sends chills tracing up and down your spine and your legs start getting antsy, like you should be moving but you don’t know which direction you should run. I’d never felt that way in my life before, and only a few times since, but that sensation was nearly over-powering.
“Travis. Come ON.” I said, trying to be more forceful, trying to sound brave and stern even when I heard the tremor in my voice.
“Be quiet.” Travis replied. He started smiling and he pulled away from me, walking across the clearing towards the shadows on the other side of the clearing. And that’s when I saw him.
You fixed your skirt once more as you entered the building. It was your first day of work and you only have 2 minutes to be on your office to meet with your boss. You arrived just on time and you were thankful, you don’t to get fired before you even start with your work.
“Are you Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” a tall guy with brown hair and attractive dimples approached you. “Uh yeah. It’s my first day here?” he smiled. “I’m Ashton. Mr. Hood is expecting you in his office right now.” you nodded. “Thanks.” He lead you to your boss’ office and smiled at you.
You went inside the office and you can see he’s already shouting at an employee. You can feel your knees trembling at the sight of Mr. Hood angry. He was more attractive than you expected. You saw him in magazines and you can say that those magazines didn’t give justice to what he actually looks like. Suit looks so good on him and it’s just the perfect fit.
You heard about the stories of how much strict he is. You fail once, you’re fired. He doesn’t want “incompetent employees” in his company. Well, it’s having a good effect then if your company is one of the top companies in the industry and you’re one of the best CEOs in history in such a very young age.
Mr. Hood’s father passed the business to him before he even turned 21 and since then, he’s the one handling their company while his dad retired. Despite being a terror CEO, he’s someone who keeps to himself. He’s not a fan of going out unless it was business parties or gatherings, but even then he doesn’t stay as much. Nobody knows about him that much, besides his trusted assistant, Ashton, whom you met earlier.
So here you were, applying to be his assistant. You always wanted to be a writer in his company. It was a dream when you were still little, when his dad was the one handling the business. Their company was known all over the world and having the opportunity to work there is a big accomplishment.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts when the employee passed by you, crying with his files. “And who are you?” he took a few steps so he was in front of his table. “I-I’m Y/N Y/L/N sir. Your new assistant.” he looked at you from head to toe and you suddenly felt conscious. “You’re late. I’ll call Ashton. He’ll show you around” you only nodded as he called Ashton on his phone and have him show you around.
It’s been a week since you started working in Hood Inc. and you were kinds regretting applying here in the first place. He’s been non stop giving you errands and work. Before you could even sit in your cubicle there’s already a new work to do. It was never ending reports, schedules for him here and there. Exhausted was an understatement and you swear that Mr. Hood deeply hates you. Not once did you see a smile from his face whenever he’s in his office.
“Hey Y/N aren’t you going home? It’s kinda late.” you looked up and see Ashton with his work bag on his shoulder. You and Ashton became really close in such a short amount of time. He said it’s about time he finally found someone who he ccan be friends with. He isn’t really close with the others because “I’m staying til night. There’s no way I can finish this in time for deadline.” “Well okay then. You take care, Y/N. Gotta rest.” he smiled at you.
After a few hours, you were finally done with the report and you decided to give it to Mr. Hood personally so he can give it you the next morning for any revisions. You knocked at his office and waited for him to answer. You knocked and you heard a faint “come in”.
You went inside and placed the report in his table. You can’t help but notice the tissues placed on his table. He was facing his back from you and you were quite sure you heard him sniffling. “Mr. Hood here’s the report you wanted me to finish…” you tried to catch a glimpse of him but startled you when he said. “It’s okay now, you can go. Thank you Ms. Y/L/N.” you heard his voice break. “Are you alright Mr. Hood?” he turned around, his eyes blood shot.
“It’s none of your business. Now, leave!” his voice startled you. “Well sorry for caring…” you muttered. You started to walk away when you heard him whisper “No you don,t you all hate me, just like everybody else.” you turned around and you saw tears forming again in his eyes. “Would you like to talk about it?” he looks at you like you were crazy “Won’t tell a soul I swear…” you crossed your heart and raised your hand. He chuckled at you.
He didn’t know what it was about you. From the first time he saw you, he felt different. He saw something in you that he never saw in other people. He’s trying to figure out what makes him want you to be around. It was like you were a magnet to him. He hates that feeling. He wanted to hate you, gave you a lot of work so you’d fail and he could fire you, but he knew better that he just wanted to see you.
There he was telling you his grandpa died and he couldn’t be there for his funeral because of the endless meetings he had that he couldn’t cancel. He wanted to cancel everything but his dad didn’t allow him too. He said he could see his grandfather’s grave some other time.
You listened to him and comforted him. You told him about the time your grand ma died but couldn’t be there because of college. It scares him how comfortable he is with you. He hasn’t felt this comfortable with a girl for a long time since he first fell in love with someone in high school that broke his heart by cheating on him. He didn’t want anything like that to happen again so he build his walls up and never let anyone in but here you were, knocking them so easily.
The both of you talked about everything for quite some time until the both of you realized it’s 12 in the midnight and you have to go. You were about to close the elevator doors to go down when you saw Mr. Hood, racing to go inside. “Let me take you home.” you shook your head. “You don’t have to, Mr. Hood. I can take a taxi.” “No please, I insist. I’m the reason why you’re out late plus it’s really dangerous to be alone in this time.” you nodded and proceeded to his car.
You showed him the address of your apartment and he drove you there. He walked you to your door to make sure you were safe. “Thanks for the ride Mr. Hood.” you smiled at him and he shook his head. “Call me Calum when we’re out of the company” he smiled at you. “O-okay Calum…” he scratched his head awkwardly. Why was he feeling this way? This wasn’t meant to happen. “Uh I- Thank you… for talking to me a while ago. It really helped.” you nodded. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Goodnight!”
You woke up with a smile on your face. Even if you only had a few hours of sleep, you woke up feeling fresh and happy. You got your lunch and coffee and went to the office. “Good morning Ash!!!” you exclaimed to Ashton. “Well someone’s happy. What’s with you?” you hugged him tight and buried your head on his chest. “What? Can’t a girl be happy?” you mumbled. “First of all, you’re never a morning person. Second, who gets excited with all the work you’ve been doing??” you laughed at him and proceeded with your work.
Little did you know that Calum saw you hugging Ash. He should’ve known something was going on between the two of you. Ash was never close to all of his former assistants. He was just as strict as he is when it comes to them. He felt a pang of jealousy that Ash gets to hug you like that. He wanted to be the one to do that to you, he wanted to be the person that could make you happy. It felt like this was his heartbreak all over again. He shrugged it off, he knew that you were too good to be true.
a/n: Sorry that was long. Send in your requests here!!!
god, not more Christmas music.” You groaned as you woke up, finding yourself
tied to a chair facing the wall. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the
light and took in your situation. The boys were tied back to back in two
separate chairs while you were tied beside them in your own chair, your ropes
wrapped in all sorts of knots around their chairs to secure you. You felt Sam
moving behind you and turned your head to face him. “Sammy?”
He cracked his neck. “I’m good. You ok?”
by ok you mean not dead then yeah.” You turned to look at Dean who was still
unconscious. “Dean?” Hearing his name seemed to bring him around. You heard him
groan and felt his head move back, resting against yours. “Are you ok?”
He said with a raspy voice.
Madge walked in with Mr. Carrigan wearing Christmas sweaters. “And here we
thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff!”
She giggled in glee.
Summary: (High School AU) - Michael comes from a very strict and quite religious family, but that doesn’t stop him from having a somewhat of a normal teenage life. He still goes out, though he has an early curfew and rules to follow. He has the mouth of a sailor, but makes sure his parents never hear. He maintains good grades so his parents aren’t ever thrown off. It can be annoying, but he can handle it. But life only becomes too difficult when Gavin Free intervenes.
Word Count: 3153
Check out the page for this fic to find the playlist and schedule (a few other things too!!).
It felt like much too long that Michael was staring at his hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking and they seemed to only increase after his confession – a confession his father had still not said anything about. How long had it been? A minute? Ten? Michael couldn’t even tell. The only noise was coming from the TV and the sound of his heart thudding rapidly against his chest. And even though he wanted an answer, a reaction, anything! Michael couldn’t bare to look up.
He would just sit there, where he felt safe, and wait. Waiting felt eternal though, but then…