paused and waited a second


pt1 | pt2 | (1/?)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, eventual smut + expecting parents au

word Count: 4,724

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin 

↠ description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.


“I want to have your baby,” is a particular string of words that is only considered acceptable in a certain number of situations.

Maybe between two lovers getting lost in the moment of their heightened feelings, and somehow the words just slip — that’s probably the most common occurrence of the phrase. Or maybe it’s a night out, alcohol in your system, and the words just sort of spill past your lips to the most ridiculously attractive stranger you’ve ever seen before you can even think to stop them. Even that, can still be considered at least borderline passable usage of the phrase. Hell, even the instance of a teenage girl proclaiming her love for her favorite celebrity with the heavy proclamation is still considered normal for the most part.

These, along with a few far-fetched others, were the only situations you could think of that allowed for the usage of those six words to be passable, yet, here you were, uttering that exact phrase, when you were in absolutely none of them. You weren’t getting caught up in the moment with lust-glazed eyes, you weren’t drunk and spewing nonsense at a bar to some guy, and you most certainly weren’t some star struck teenage girl staring up at her celebrity crush’s poster.

No, you were none of those things.

Instead, you were sitting across from your ex-boyfriend telling him that you wanted to have his baby… Yeah, totally passable usage of the phrase, right?

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a list of my weirdly specific favorite tiny moments from hamilton

  • “everyone give it up for america’s favorite fighting frenchman / LAFAYETTE”
  • the descending bass notes after “at least i keep his eyes in my life” that lead into “to the groom!” 
  • that looooong pause after the second chorus before wait for it EXPLODES 
  • “thomas claaaaaaaaims”
  • the way the opening builds slowly with the cast snapping
  • eliza beatboxing for philip!!!
  • “we had a spy on the inside that’s right HERCULEEEEES MULLIGAN”
  • “you walked in and my heart went (BOOM)”
... Why

So for a bit of context a friend of Mine got the brilliant idea for a 3.5 campaign with d20 modern sprinkled in where a war between heaven and hell spills over into the current day world. My character pre story was bisected at the waist before he ‘died’. Upon being resurrected by God, this interaction.




God: you got bisected by a demon And revived as a floating torso. And that’s what you’re concerned about shoes.



Me:… Yes.

A few minutes later.

God: you’re gonna need you legs back if you’re going to be fighting against the rising darkness (pauses to channel arcane energy).


God: (pauses) if you’re having second thoughts-

Me: it’s not that. I was gonna ask if I can have 4 legs.

God:… 4 legs?

Me: yeah. And wings. Wings are cool.

And that’s how I became a half Dragon centaur

this is a story about a sorcerer and a knight. well, a knight-in-training. they go by KiT, a nickname for their title, but a perfectly good name for anyone. kit’s a good squire, for the most part, but they have a knack for getting into trouble.

this time the trouble is they just fuckin decked another knight in the middle of the tavern.

“keep your hands off my friend,” kit tells the shocked personification of grossness, now sitting on his ass on the ground. kit’s pretty sure the message was already sent though the ass-kicking, but it doesn’t hurt to be thorough.

the man splutters for a minute before finding his tongue. “you— you— you piece of shit, you’ll pay for this. i have powerful friends.”

“bring it on,” kit retorts. they’re feeling pretty confident right now.

they’re feeling significantly less confident as two other men step up behind the first guy.

“outside,” the first growls.

“we’re zit and wedge, and we’re going to kick your ass,” the second one clarifies. 

zit nods. “but we don’t want to make a mess of you on mal’s floor, since it was just scrubbed and all.”

kit glances at mal, who they rather thought was a friend, to find her nodding appreciatively. “brawlers these days are so polite. out you three go.”

kit wilts. “but… there’s just one of me.”

it’s around this time, when the two other guys are starting to crack their knuckles and look like they’re going to drag kit outside whether they like it or not, that someone else pushes their way through the small crowd that’s forming.

“’scuse me, pardon me. hello. what’s going on here?”

she’s got bright blue hair, of the kind that you get from mucking around with magic too much. everyone immediately reassesses the situation, and watches her warily. a sorcerer can quickly change the way a brawl plays out, if they feel like intervening. kit sincerely hopes she does.

“miss,” zit jumps in before kit can get a word in, “this young… person, here, just brutally attacked my poor friend, and me and wedge think we ought to be able to teach them a lesson in manners.”

the sorcerer studies him for a moment, as if considering his statement, and kit grabs their chance.

“pimple here is completely leaving out the fact that their friend wouldn’t leave my friend alone, after she asked him to go away twice!”

zit bristles, and looks to the sorcerer for her judgment.

she considers for while. “can anyone vouch for this knight’s statement?”

“i was the one getting hit on!” tea shouts from behind kit’s shoulder.

the sorcerer digests the witness’s statement. “hm. i’m inclined to see this as a case of self-defense, through the channel of someone who was not the self being hit on. i would suggest that all the parties involved accept the ruling of “he who gets their ass kicked probably deserves it”, and move on.”

“fat chance,” wedge growls. “the pack sticks together. we have to defend our leader.”

werewolves, kit sighs internally. it just figured.

there’s a dramatic pause, then the sorcerer says cooly, “you try it, and you’ll get your asses kicked too.”

zit and wedge eye her warily. kit eyes all three of them, which is hard with only two eyes.

“i reckon we could take a sorcerer,” wedge hypothesizes— an idea that would be quickly proven false in any laboratory experiment.

but this is a tavern, and the sorcerer has a delayed reaction, only raising her hands when zit charges at her. kit flinches back, sure she’s about to be crushed, but the next moment flames explode in the small space between the sorcerer and zit. there’s a yelp, and mad scrambling back from the sorcerer.

“i have nowhere to be until book club at midnight,” the sorcerer informs them calmly, her hands still out, palms up and ready to summon more flame. kit squints at them. “so i have plenty of time to teach you a lesson.”

apparently rescinding their hypothesis, all three werewolves make a mad dash for the door and disappear into the night.

the sorcerer smiles victoriously, and shakes her bright hair out of her face. kit squints at her scalp as she turns to them. “all good?”

“yes, thank you,” tea says, sounding impressed. “wow… a fire summoner. i didn’t know there were any teenagers powerful enough.”

kit has no other specific places to squint, so they just stare hard at the sorcerer’s face. “yeah… thanks. that was really cool.”

she waves their thanks off with one hand, a few strands of smoke issuing from her sleeves. “all in a day’s work. i’ll be off now.”

kit leaves tea with mal, though they frankly no longer trust her so much, and follows the sorcerer out the door. “hey, wait! you, blue hair magic person. what are you?”

“a masked vigilante,” she says, after a pause. “without the mask, because magic.”

kit blinks at that, before realizing she’s perfectly right. besides the definite ideas that she’s female and blue-haired, kit seems to forget what she looks like one moment to the next. kinda neat, honestly, though disconcerting.

they shake their head. “no, i mean… you’re not a sorcerer. i’ve seen people summon fire, and it comes from a loosely closed fist, not an open hand. also, your hair is dyed, not magically changed.”

she doesn’t answer for a moment, then looks stumped, and continues to not answer.

“well?” kit asks.

“fine,” she admits. “i’m a sorcerer in training, but the fake mask is about the most complicated magic i can do. the hair is so people will take me seriously when i do masked vigilante stuff.”

“and the fire?” kit persists.

after a moment, she shakes out her sleeve, sending a tiny purple dragon tumbling into her other hand. “my helper. my fire aid, if you will. you’re the first person to notice, you know?”

“just logic and being awesome,” kit says with a shrug, feeling pleased. neither are skills they get to show off a lot. they kinda feel like they’ve earned something for it. “hey, can i ask you a question?”

after a pause, the sorcerer in training says, “go for it.”

“why do you wait a second before responding to anything?”

their question is punctuated by a pause before she answers.

then the sorcerer motions kit closer, and tucks her hair behind her ears. the knight-in-training leans in, gaping. there’s a green dragon no longer than the length of one finger perched behind her ear, claws holding onto her piercings for balance. it unwedges one tiny wing to wave at them.

“what the fuck,” kit says, unable to find a reason for this from logic or being awesome.

“what the fuck,” the dragon repeats, pushing its snoot practically inside the sorcerer’s ear.

“this is peep,” she says. “my hearing is shit, so it helps me out. i call it my hearing aid.”

the draconian hearing aid preens under the knight-in-training’s stare.

“shit,” kit mumbles, for lack of better words.

“shit!” the dragon crows, gleefully.

In An Instant: Part Ten (END)

Summary: A romantic comedy about what happens when love literally falls through your window.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Ash (aka me), Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark

Warnings: Language, general gross cuteness, some angst, bad writing, bad storylines, possible cheating, but mostly major fluff and feels

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: I’m finally wrapping up this series. It didn’t quite go the way I had anticipated but I enjoyed it. Thank you to all of you extremely patient people who followed along with me. I’d love to hear what you thought of the series as a whole and what I should/shouldn’t do in future series. I love you all. Special thanks to my babe, @sebbytrash, for reading through this for me. I love you.

Catch up here!  **My Masterlist  ** Inspiration Fund

When you awoke that Saturday afternoon, a mere three weeks since you met the life ruiner, Bucky Barnes, your heart literally hurt. Who were you to stop a wedding? You barely knew this guy. There was nothing you could do.

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Day Two: Failure/Insecurity

Day two of @vldangstweek. I decided to focus on the insecurity bit of this day. I’m really happy with the positive feedback on day one, thanks everyone! Under a cut for length. 

“Keith? You okay? You seemed a little…off…during that workout.”

“I’m fine, Hunk. Thanks for asking. I’ll be out to dinner in a second.”

There was a long pause, and Keith waited with baited breath until he heard the sound of Hunk’s footsteps moving down the hallway towards the dining hall. He sighed with relief and gingerly peeled off his jacket, fingerless gloves coming off after it. With a deep breath, he lifted his shirt up and over his head, the fabric drenched in sweat from training, and tossed it into the laundry chute.

When Keith turned back to the mirror, he couldn’t help but flinch. He lifted a hand and ran it over the skin of his stomach, over the faint lilac color that had been steadily stretching outwards ever since his encounter with The Blade of Marmora. It covered nearly his entire torso at this point, dipping just below the waistband of his jeans and curling up around his collar bone, over his biceps. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer, but keeping it covered, keeping it hidden from the others….

It made him feel less like a villain, less like a failure as a teammate, because since he was Galra, he was partially to blame for the death of Coran and Allura’s planet, partially to blame for Shiro’s disappearance, for everything.

He swallowed and dragged a hand through his hair, watching as the strands glistened a deep purple color in the light of the bathroom. That was the hardest to hide, but luckily for him, it seemed to be staying a darker shade rather than becoming the pale lavender he had grown so used to seeing on the Galra. It blended in with his hair, except in certain lighting, so for the most part it wasn’t visible.

Keith sighed and hunched over the sink, taking a shaky breath and turning the tap on. He splashed a bit of cold water into his face, letting it drip down over his chin and down his neck, the coldness replenishing his energy and making it easier for him to relax about this whole damn predicament.

A knocking at the door. “One sec, Hunk.”

“It’s not Hunk. Dude, you okay?”

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the parent trap // archie andrews

The Parent Trap (1/12)

words: 1k

Summary- Archie and (Y/N) separate, splitting their twin daughters between them. What happens when ten years later, the pair seem to be reunited in a twist of fate at summer camp?

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“I’m so so so sorry, Archie. I can’t do this anymore.” she glanced up at him. His eyes pleaded for her to stay but he stayed silent, not daring to miss a single second of her as she was.

“Y-You can’t split the twins up. They belong together.” Archie protested as he noticed his girlfriend take a step further away from him. “Amelia needs you. I need you. Hell, I probably wouldn’t be able to cope without you.”

(Y/N) shook her head, ignoring the internal conflict playing through her mind, cradling her daughter for one last time, before she said goodbye to Archie.

“I love you, Archie Andrews. Never forget that. You’re a good father, we’re both so young but you somehow managed us. You take care and take care of Amelia too. Make sure you remind her, her mum loves her.” (Y/N)’s accent was strong and filled with sadness. She didn’t want to leave but she knew it would be the best for her daughters. Her brother stood at the door, watching his sister try her hardest not to break down as she planted a final kiss on Amelia’s head. Aria in his arms, fidgeting around to catch a glimpse of her father, almost as if she knew of the events that were occurring.

“Let me say goodbye to Aria, please (Y/N), its all I ask.”

With a swift nod of her head, she watched as Archie strode over to her brother, tears filling her eyes again.

“Jug, please let me hold her.” Archie pleaded “It might be the last time.”

“Arch, she’ll be back before you know it.”

But he was wrong. She never came back and he never got to hold Aria again.

“Dad, why are you forcing me to do this?” Amelia groaned “You know I hate going to camp.”

“Because Melia, you barely leave the house. Camp is a chance to make friends.” Archie crouched down to be eye level with his daughter.

“I have friends, I have Jess and Charlie.” Amelia protested, causing her father to chuckle at her.

“Why couldn’t mum come with you to drop me off again?” Aria raised her eyebrow at her uncle.

“Because Aria, your mother needs to have this dress made for your auntie Josie’s launch party and shipped off to Riverdale in three days time.”

“You know, you and mum always talk about Riverdale and promise to take me,” Aria spoke as she watched her uncle unpack the car boot. “You both always say, you’ll take me when the time is right, but it seems like the time is never right.”

“Ari, your mum and I grew up in Riverdale and you were born there, but somethings happened and she still has a hard time coping with it.”

“Is it because my dad still lives there?”

“Come on, lets get you to one of the camp counsellors.” Jughead said, glancing down at his niece, not knowing whether (Y/N) would be okay with Aria knowing about her father in detail.

“She talked about him once, you know Uncle Juggy.” Aria noticed her uncle’s change in behaviour. “She told me that she believed he was the one that got away. You know, I think deep down she’ll always love my dad, but whatever he did to cause her to leave her home town must’ve been really bad.”

“Why are you exactly like your mother?” Jughead groaned “You could’ve at least taken after me, the better sibling.”

Aria let out a giggle at her uncle, she loved her uncle to great lengths. She grew up with his presence around. It was her, her mum and her Uncle Jughead. Ever since she could remember. Occasionally, her auntie Josie and auntie Betty would come over from Riverdale and talk about how he was coping. Her two aunties and her uncle were always careful about saying her father’s name around her. She knew she got her vibrant red hair from him. On her fifth birthday, her mother gave her half of a ripped picture of her father. Ever since then, it was her most valued object. On her mother’s birthday that same year, her auntie Veronica gave her mother a locket. Inside was a picture of her father and herself as a baby. Veronica uttered the words ‘so they’ll be right by your heart.’ to her as she put the necklace on (Y/N).

“See you in six weeks Amelia.” Archie smiled at his daughter. “You too, Charlie. Look after her.” He winked at Cheryl Blossom’s son.

“Don’t miss me too much, Ari.” Jughead teased her, nudging her slightly. “Remember to write to me and your mother. Your mother might have a meltdown if you don’t.”

“This is the longest I’ll be away from the both of you, uncle Jughead. I’ll most likely be the one to have a meltdown.”

“Welcome back, Melia!” Counsellor Carlie grinned at the young red head “You too, Charlie. Are you two ever apart?”

Amelia rolled her eyes at Carlie, making Carlie chuckle slightly.

“Hi, I’m Aria.” the girl greeted the people sharing a cabin with her.

“Don’t play with me, Amelia. That accent you have on? It’s terrible!” the unknown girl said, taking Aria by surprise.

“Sorry, do I know you?”

“Honestly, Melia, you can stop now.”

“Stop what?” Aria paused for a second before smirking “Wait, who’s Amelia?”

“Give it up Tara, maybe she isn’t playing.” the dark haired girl muttered. “Maybe that isn’t Amelia but some girl who freakily looks identical to her.”

“Okay, if she doesn’t know the answer to this question then I’ll believe her.” Tara grinned, a hint of mischief flashing through her eyes.

“Who’s the cutest boy in Riverdale?”

Aria eye’s opened in shock. “Wait, you guys are from Riverdale?”

“She’s definitely not Amelia. Her hair is long. Plus I was with Amelia, like, two seconds ago.” a voice piped up from the cabin doors. “I’m Jessica, it’s nice to meet you,”

“Oh, I’m Aria, good to meet you, Jessica. So, who’s Amelia?”


Requested: Shawn is in the studio, but can’t seem to write anything meaningful. He calls y/n for some inspiration.



You’re halfway through your algebra homework, when your phone buzzing on your bed distracts you. Picking it up, you answer, “Hello?”

“Hey hun,” Shawn’s voice comes from the other side. You’re wondering why he’s calling you because you know he’s at a recording studio in LA right now.

“Hey babe,” You reply, “What’s up?” 

“I’m in the studio and I know you just got home from school so I just wanted to call you.”

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Can we just take a moment to talk about this??like I cant breath????
First of all the way Jungkook slightly moves his body up and pauses there for a few seconds like hes waiting for something l,plus the fact that this gesture of Jimin seems so natural to Jungkook like its something casual to him????? and then its like he remembers that they are at the fanmeet and literally forcing his body to move to away just a few inches just to make it seem like he doesnt want it but his expression is all about wanting it.That is not an expression you put on your face when youre friend is grabbing your neck and dont try to tell me it is cause seriously he looks so weak when he feels Jimins touch.
Second of all the way Jimin touched so gently his neck and then applied pressure to a specific part of Jungkooks neck and looks at his expression as he’s doing it and bending his head over and whispers something to him. Is just Jimin are you trying to kill me??????
Theres so much to this moment that makes me want to scream.
My Jikook feels are messed up.
Lets all group hug and scream together.


Pat was completely confused why Mr. Larson wanted to see him. He had nothing that college coach could need. However he didn’t want to be rude. He decided he would go into Mr. Larson’s office and politely decline whatever offer was about to be given to him. Someone else would definitely do a better job than him. Mr. Larson would just have to understand that he wasn’t the right person for the job.

It took Pat a little longer to find the office than he expected. He’d never gone anywhere close to the gym. It was completely out of his territory. The idea of hitting weights instead of math books was completely out of the question. His short scrawny frame made sure of that. But that’s what made it even more confusing to Pat. Why would someone like Mr. Larson ask him for something? The question stayed in the back of his mind as he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” A deep masculine voice came from the other side of the door.

With a deep breath Pat started talking. “I don’t think I’m the right guy to help you out. It’s just that I don’t know anything about sports and I will only be a hindrance to you and all your players. It was a kind offer; however I do believe that I should use my talents elsewhere and save you the trouble of educating someone as incompetent as me on sports. I appreciate you thinking I can do this Mr. Larson but I don’t believe I should accept this offer.” Pat barely took a breath between words. He was too nervous to even look at the man in front of him.

“First off, call me Coach. I’m Coach Larson. Not Mr. Larson.” He paused for a second waiting for Pat to say something.

“Alright… Coach… I don’t…”

“Come here my boy,” Coach got up from his leather chair and crossed the room putting the much smaller boy in a headlock. He playfully tussled Pat’s shaggy hair. “You know I would never do that. I only pick the best. You’re great. And I’m just going to make you better. I’ll make you into the man you always wanted to be. All you have to do is accept.” Pat stood confused. He was still trying to understand how his head was locked in this man’s arm. “What do you say? We’ll start you off on a small trial and then work your way up. If you don’t like it; you can leave at any time.”

Pat stared at Coach waiting to see if this was a joke. “Coach… I’m still not sure. But if you think I can do it then…”

“Thata boy!” Coach said excitedly. “You won’t regret it. Now go get changed.”

“Okay…” Pat proceeded cautiously through the locker room. He wasn’t sure if it would be more comfortable if there were other guys in there. His scrawny body always made him feel self-conscience. But he wasn’t going to give up. Pat steeled his emotions and proceeded to the back of the locker room.

There was a large mirror over one of the sinks. Pat couldn’t help but look up and down his small body. “Still don’t get why coach wants me so bad…” His confidence was waning again. However he wouldn’t give up yet. Slowly he started to take off his shirt. For some reason it was harder to get off than usual. Pat struggled for a moment as he lifted it over his head. His shirt gripped his body tighter than it did this morning.

He looked back up in the mirror again. Something was different. Had he forgotten to shave this morning? Nah, he always liked that little stubble. It matched his chest pretty well. He looked at himself again. Something was different. Was it his muscles? “No f-in way,” he laughed at himself. He’d been growing those bad boys for years. High school. Freshmen year. The chicks loved them. He’d throw them up a good ole bicep pose and they’d fawn all over him. Some of the guys too. He wasn’t picky.

All you gotta do is love his body and he’ll love yours. He threw himself another pose. “Nah man. Hot as ever. I can do just bout anything I want.” He gave his arm a nice little kiss. “Don’t know why I didn’t trust coach. He always knows what’s up.”

“Coach!” Pat shouted through the locker room. “I’ll accept you’re offer. I’ll train with your guys for sure.”

“Great,” Coach smiled like he’d known it was always going to happen. “Just next time put on a something more than your underwear.”

Poems ; j.j. x reader

Originally posted by riverrdxle

summary: basically, reader writes poems about Jughead, and gets drunk one day and he reads them and yep.

warnings: might be like a swear or two? like underage drinking and stuff , my writing in general.

a.n: you guys should tell me if I should write this as a series, because I didn’t go too much into detail with stuff and that irks me honestly.

words; 2,510

It all began with Y/n’s best friend Jughead telling her that he was going to go on a date with his girlfriend. She shouldn’t get this sad over him so she decided to do something she thought she would end up regretting the day after. She called up the clubbing gang, as she’d dubbed them to do exactly that, go clubbing.

“Any reason as to why you want to go clubbing? Perhaps it has to do with a certain gloomy beanie wearing boy?” Veronica asked her.

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Not Dead Yet (Part 30)

*I enjoy writing slowburns way too much. Development. I live for watching and creating development between characters piece by piece. Hope you do too cause I just keep dragging this baby out.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warning: language

The next couple of days I was more than able to keep my silence around Peter. He’d make a comment here or there to try and get me to crack but I let it roll off my shoulders. I would acknowledge his presence, nod along, or do what I was asked but without a word spoken. Only problem was that it didn’t seem to bother him. If things continued like this I’ll just have to start ignoring him altogether.

“Devin,” Peter approached where Devin and I were lounging, “We need extra stores of dreamshade, take someone and go collect more.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Devin nudged me.

“Someone else.” Peter grabbed my arm keeping me in place. Devin gave me a sympathetic look before grabbing Nick and heading off. Peter dragged me off in the other direction. He pulled me in close with an all too familiar look in his eyes. Oh this poor naive thing.

I brought a hand up to to his lips and pushed him away. He peered at me annoyed. “The vow of silence I can handle but you won’t even let me kiss you now? Why? You don’t have to make a sound if you don’t want to.” he reached for me again. I rolled my eyes and spun him around, stole his dagger from his hip, stabbed the material of his tunic into the tree and left him pinned there as I went back to camp.

I sat down next to Ben with a huff. He glanced at me before going back to his whittling. “Still not talking to him?”

“Yep.” I picked at the shavings on the ground. “I think I’m starting to wear him down.”

“Is that what you’re doing? I’ve never seen him happier.” I glared back at him, “What? You not talking to him put him in the best mood I’ve seen him in years.”

“Do I need to stop speaking to you too?”

“I’m only teasing.” Ben assured me. “This spat between you two will be over in a week or so like they usually are.”

“Not this time.” I drummed my fingers against the log, “I am gonna make that boy crack and I don’t care if it takes me a decade of silence. He will admit that he was in the wrong.”

“Care to tell me what it is that he is wrong about?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay then. Need a pointy stick?” he held up the slightly sharpened branch in his hands.

“Sure, we can go sneak up on people and poke them.” I took the stick and hopped up.

Ben followed right after. “Sounds fun.”

The day went on but Peter didn’t approach me again though I could feel the pissed off glare he burned into the back of my skull when he thought I didn’t notice. I don’t care what Ben says, Peter is getting annoyed. Best case scenario, he’s nearing breaking point. Worst case, he’s just being his overdramatic pouting self because I won’t let him grind on me while I’m not speaking to him.

If anything this break from him the past couple of days has given me the chance to think about my life. I’ve lived on Neverland for decades now. I am not the same person I was when I was first brought here. Most days I couldn’t even remember who that girl was. Years will go by between realizations that this wasn’t what I always was. Sometimes it makes me sad to think about. If I think really hard I can remember living in a little shack somewhere very cold with weak lungs struggling to breath the arid air. I can remember my father long dead. Not a name or even a face. Just a warm nostalgic murmur amid the blaring noise of my demented life.

Some nights I’d lay out where I could see the stars and pretend I was somewhere else. I’d hum to myself an old tune dredged up from life past. Perhaps it was a lullaby, maybe something else. Who knew. The only song that ever got stuck in my head that I could remember was from years ago when Peter and I were stranded in the Enchanted Forest. It wasn’t the night of that wedding we crashed (the wine made sure all I could remember clearly was my hangover the next morning.) No. Another day during our travels we came across an old fiddler playing for alms. I tossed him a spare coin and he began to play anew. Peter spun me once before we fell into a ridiculous dance right there in the square. At the end of the song we laughed about it and Peter tossed the old man another coin.

Such a simple memory but one of my favorites. It’s one of the reasons I know Peter’s wrong now. You don’t have times like that, you don’t smile like that, laugh like that, you do not enjoy something so mundane that much unless you also care about the person you’re doing it with. You, for sure, do not break open an entire island for someone you only think of as a comrade and piece to have.

Am I thankful that he saved me? Yes. Am I surprised that he acted the way he did when he thought I had died? Not as much as I initially thought. I know Peter’s gotten close to past Lost Boys and was upset when they left or died so maybe his reaction to what happened to me wasn’t unexpected entirely. But the degree to which he took it was.

I am glad that I mean something to him even if he won’t admit it. I am proud that I know him as well as I do. I’m thankful that he finds my life worth saving. What I cannot condone is his disregard for others in order to keep one alive. The safety of the many does not yield for the safety of the few…or the one. What is the life of one Lost Girl to that of say, twenty Lost Boys? Can I honestly sleep at night knowing that the reason they are dead is because of circumstances regarding my own fate? That I should live at the cost of their lives when their lives need not have been lost in the first place?

Knowing all this and thinking of all this just made my anger at Peter more substantial. He struts about this island with no regard for anyone or anything he deems unworthy of his attention. Then he gets upset when he doesn’t immediately get his way.

It’s been two weeks since the kissing incident where I left him stuck to a tree. He’s tried a couple more times to coerce me into giving in but the response, or lack thereof, was always the same. What had gone from being a fun game morphed into a personal challenge and it was starting to get bothersome.

Finally it all came to a head during training one morning.

“Alright everyone, gather round!” Peter called to the camp, “We’re going to be doing something a tad different today for training. Based on what I witnessed during our last fight with the pirates your reflexes have faded hysterically so.” He gave me a pointed look, “So that’s what we’ll be doing this morning.”

He took a dreamshade coated bolt from the quiver on his back and loaded it into a crossbow. “Let’s begin.” he shot the first bolt directly at me. I ducked out of the way just in time for it to fly over me and land somewhere else. I am going to literally use my last dying moments to physically emasculate him if he hits me with one of those.

The rest of the Lost Boys scattered. Felix and Peter alike were shooting dreamshade bolts at the quickly retreating targets. One of the younger boys wasn’t paying attention and Peter shot a bolt at him. I tackled the kid out of the way and the bolt tore through my sleeve as a result. I could feel the blood rushing out of my face as I rolled up my sleeve and inspected the spot. Oh thank the gods above, he only got my shirt.

I shot daggers at him. He hid any kind of remorse behind a mock innocent face. That’s it, I had had about enough of this. I gripped the hilt of my club as I rose to my feet. I don’t need words to knock the teeth from his head.

The egotistical blockhead had the audacity to smirk at me in that triumphant way of his. We’ll see how smug he looks when I’m tearing the ears from his head and shoving them down his throat!

Wait a second. I paused for a moment when I noticed he was pointing the crossbow at the ground. I looked back up at those startling green eyes and realized what this all was. This was just another attempt to get me to break. This, my anger, it’s what he wants.

With great difficulty I drew in a deep breath, lifted my head high and turned my back on him. Let him shoot me in the back. He won’t do it. If it was my attention he wanted then it was my indifference he would receive.

A bolt flew by my head embedding itself in the tree. I smirked at the last ditch effort and continued on my way. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.


“So…” Felix watched as Y/N disappeared into the jungle, “I’m guessing this was a failed experiment.”

“I don’t get it. I shot deadly poison at her and she just walked away. She never backs down from a fight, never. So why would she run away now?”

“It’s not so much running as…sashaying away.” Felix pointed out.

Pan aimed the crossbow at him. “You want another scar?”

Felix held up his hands in defeat. “I merely meant that perhaps riling her up isn’t the best way to try and break this silence.”

“Don’t come to me with your well-meaning advice. You’re the one that spoke to her and started her on this whole annoying tirade.”

Felix took a step back. Yes, he did tell Y/N to rein things in with Pan. Did he care that they had their disgusting arrangement? No. He could quite honestly care less about their indulgences. What he did care about was the safety of the island and the remaining Lost Boys on it. If that meant poisoning their relationship, figuratively and literally, then so be it. She had too tight a grip on him and it needed to be loosened if not dropped entirely. Felix would always be loyal to Pan, that would never change. But if it took his anger at Felix to get things back to a safe and normal state then he would allow it.

Pan shoved the crossbow at him then disappeared in the blink of an eye. Seems that ends training for today.


Stupid, annoying, insane Lost Girl! This had been fun at first. Hell, it had been downright bliss. No nagging, none of her annoying jokes, and no screaming matches. Peter figured that Y/N would go through with her tantrum for a week at most then everything would go back to normal. Now it had almost been a month and he could count on one hand the number of times Y/N made eye contact with him for more than three seconds.

What did he want from her? He saved her life, again, and she acted like it was a crime. Yeah, some boys died but it was just the way things were. Boys died. They’d bring more in.

Sometimes Peter had to keep from yelling at her that she was in fact a murderer just like him. She’s taken lives and yet she still acts the martyr. Y/N can claim that all the boys are her family and that she cares for them all in her own sisterly way but it is all a load of crap. Besides her idiot trio she couldn’t care less about the others. She barely remembered their names half the time and if she wanted to she would strip this island bare until she was the last one standing with the makings of her own empire. She’s a wolf that wants to believe she’s a sheep. But the red on her hands will never wash out, it will only grow, he’d make sure of it.

The only way to ensure his ruthless Lost Girl stayed on his side though was to play along with her game.

He found her at camp playing games with the boys. “Hey,” he tapped her shoulder, “I need to talk to you.”

She didn’t so much as turn her head. Okay, she was going to be like this about the whole shooting her thing, was she? Peter shot a glare at the others and they scattered. Y/N made to follow them but he kept her in place. “I know you’re not talking to me but you need to listen.” He sat her back down. “Things got a little out of hand yesterday, I’m sorry for shooting at your head. What do you say we put that behind us?”

She remained silent staring off into the jungle. “Y/N, I know you’re not speaking to me, for a really dumb reason I might add, but you can at least give me a nod or something.” He tried not to let his irritation show on his face.

A solid minute passed of Peter just sitting there watching her while she made a blatant point not to even glance in his direction. “What? Are you just ignoring me altogether now? Not even going to acknowledge I’m right next to you?”

At this she stood up and left to follow the other boys. Her demeanor immediately changed and Peter could hear the sound of her laugh as she joked with the boys. “Hey! We’re not done yet!” he grabbed her again. She shrugged him off like he was nothing and continued on with her conversation despite the boy’s clear apprehension. That’s it! He gripped her wrist and transported them to the beach. “Now listen here you–”

Without as much as a pause in her step she turned and headed back into the jungle. “No! Get back here! Y/N, I’m talking to you!” she disappeared from view among the foliage, “I am your leader and you will listen to me! Turn your ass around! Y/N!” Thunder cracked to life up above. Y/N never came back.


A storm like nothing I had ever seen broke out after I left Peter on the beach. With the first clap of thunder my poised steps faltered. “Damn…” I looked back at where I came from, “Why do you have to be such a pain?”

Maybe I should go back. Not talking to him was doing the job fine enough but ignoring him altogether may have taken things a tad too far. The rain poured down soaking through my clothes in seconds. I shivered against the cold.

No. This is exactly why I’m doing this. He claims to not care about me. That I am just another child on his island to do his bidding and such. Peter refuses to acknowledge that I affect him whether he likes it or not. This storm just proved my point.

I want to forgive him. I really do. I want to have him back in my life. I miss joking with him and relaxing with him. Hell, I even miss making out with him. He is my friend. I’ve told him things I haven’t even told Devin. In a way he is my best friend, despite how much I want to kill him most days. He understands me in a way I can’t comprehend. But that doesn’t excuse what he’s done. He let boys die and didn’t think anything of it. He looked me in the eye and told me that I was nothing to him. After everything I’ve done for him and he’s done for me he denied that I meant anything to him.

I risked my life to get him his damned eye. The eye that will give him the information he needs so he doesn’t die. I’ve kept his secrets. I’ve followed his lead without question. He’s saved my life in more ways than one. He rescued me from a terrible life. He brought me somewhere where I can have a family and adventure. He listened to my trauma and took me to find closure. Yet after all that he has the gall to say I mean nothing? Was this damned storm he conjured up because I simply won’t look at him nothing?

I turned back and ran further into the jungle clutching my doused, freezing arms to my equally frozen body. If this was all an act then it was bloody convincing. King of pretend indeed.

(Part 1) (Previous) (Next)

THIS IS MY FIRST ONE SHOT DONT JUDGE ME IF IT SUCKS OKAY. anyways, hope ya like it! And ofc feel free to request something or not request something idk. check out my main blog for some funny (apparently) “Realistic 5SOS” posts! :-)


Pairing: Calum x female reader

Word Count: 682

Warnings: Cursing (5sos swear so much I don’t even know if this is necessary)

Masterlist x Requests

I run my hand through my hair and let out a sigh. It was hard to stay concentrated when my mind was so clouded. I squint and twirl the pencil a couple times before setting it down and pushing myself away from the table. Fuck this shit, nothing has happened in the 2 hours I’ve been sitting here and I’m pretty sure nothing will happen now. I stand up and grab my jacket as I head for the door. “I’m gonna get coffee.” I announce. “Latte please!” I hear Luke holler as I shut the door.
LA traffic doesn’t make my slow day feel any better, and neither does the fact that I forgot my AUX cable. It sucks, but honestly the shitty drive is worth it the moment I open the door of the shop. It’s small and kind of unassuming, but they definitely have the best coffee in town. I open the door and take a second to take in the place like I always do before heading to the counter to greet my favorite barista. “Hi Jerry, can I-” I stop mid-sentence. I had expected to see the normal barista, but instead of Jerry I find myself staring at a girl. She has to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Her beauty is seemingly effortless, and her ability to make the plain black shirt and a dark blue apron look appealing is beyond me. “You’re not Jerry.” I mumble. “Well, no. Want me to grab him?” she asks. “What? No, uh, that’s fine you’re fine this is fine.” I reply a little too quickly, and based on her expression I know now that she was just messing with me. “So, coffee?” she asks, pursing her lips. God, she’s beautiful. I blink and realize I’m supposed to tell her what I want. “Oh, right. Sorry. Uh, large coffee, uh, with room, and uh…” I pause, trying to recall what Luke had asked for. “Small latte? No, medium. Medium latte.” I breathe deeply, amazed at my inability to make coherent sentences. “Okay, your total is $7.25.” I nod and hand her a card from my wallet. She looks at it and laughs. “What?” I ask. “Well your driver’s license is cute but you can’t pay with it.” she says, and I feel my entire face heat up. “Shit, sorry.” I take back my license stupidly and hand her my debit card. She giggles and I try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. She hands me my coffee and I give myself a second to remember how to English. “What’s your name?” I ask. She smiles and taps her name tag with her nail. I stare at the tag dumbly. Of course she’s wearing a fucking name tag. “Y/N. Right, of course. Well, thanks Y/N.” I head for the door, wishing I had headphones to drown out my stupidity. “Hey, Calum?” I turn and see Y/N looking at me with a smirk on her face. “Yeah?” She bites her lip to hold back her laugh and holds up a cup. “You forgot the latte.” I groan and walk back towards the counter to grab Luke’s drink. I pause for a second before taking the cup from her. “Wait, how did you know my name?” I ask her. “It was on your driver’s license.” She laughs and hands me the cup. “Right. Obviously. Okay.” Now would be a fantastic time for the ground to swallow me up. “Okay. Well bye then.” I say, and I leave the shop. I find myself waiting for something else shitty to happen, because today clearly isn’t my day. “Calum, wait up!” I turn and see Y/N jogging towards me. “Shit! Did I forget something else?” I groan. "Well, kinda.” she takes my coffee cup from me and scribbles something on it with a Sharpie. “Maybe next time you won’t ask for Jerry.” she jokes. “I swear I’m usually a lot less awkward and a hell of a lot smoother.” I tell her. She nods and raises an eyebrow. “Sure you are, hot shot.”

Whelp it is Valentine’s Day and I realized the other day I have been completely ignoring the FebYGOChallenge and today we should talk about our favorite romantic ship, and out of all the great ships there are I’ve decided to go with Puzzleshipping. And since I would have so many things to say about them instead as a special occasion I’m putting a short drabble out here. Click under the read more for fluff and nerds

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anonymous asked:

19 and my dear Jace Wayland :-D

Jace Wayland - “We were never meant to fight on our own.”

“Jace Wayland!” You placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to stand still. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have a demon to kill.” Jace turned around and rolled his eyes while he crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t I ask you to stay at the institute?”

“Yes, but I didn’t answer.” You raised your eyebrows and your lips curled up into a smile. “The answer is no. I won’t stay at the institute.” You cocked your head and your eyes met his. “This demon is dangerous and you’re not going to face it on your own.”

“Don’t you understand?” Jace shook his head and he placed both his hands on your shoulders so he could shake you. “How can I focus on killing that demon when I have to focus on protecting you?” He raised his voice and took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to get hurt or killed.”

“And I don’t want you to get hurt or killed either. But I’m not a damsel in distress, Jace.” You rolled your eyes and felt your heart racing in your chest. You loved Jace. You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone else in the world, but sometimes you wished he was a little less confident and a little less stubborn.

“Why can’t you listen to me for once? Just once!” Jace softened his voice and his arms slid around your waist while he pulled your closer towards him. “I’ve been fighting demons on my own for as long as I can remember. Not one has been able to beat me. You really shouldn’t have come.”

You just opened your mouth to answer when you saw something moving from the corner of your eye. “Wait a second, Jace.” You paused for a moment and all your muscles tensed. “I think we might have to continue this conversation another time.” You curled your fingers around the seraph blade you were carrying. “It’s time to get to work.”

Jace looked over his shoulder and he let out a deep sigh. “Let’s get to work then.” He grabbed his seraph blade too and a few seconds later the two of you stood back to back ready to fight whatever would be coming.

As soon as the demon appeared it was as if Jace and you had fought side by side for years already. You knew what he was going to do before he did it and the other way round. Without needing to yell at each other, without needing to exchange a word, you were making him even stronger, while he was making you faster. It was a matter of minutes before you pierced the demon’s heart and watched how it fell apart at your feet.

“That was…” Jace stared at you in disbelief before his lips curled up into a smile. He didn’t smile that often, but when he did it was as if the sun and all the stars started shining at once. “That was amazing!” Jace wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up to twirl you around. “And here I thought that nothing could beat fighting and winning alone.”

We were never meant to fight on our own, Jace, and…” You pressed your hands to his cheeks. “I think all those hours of synching our bodies might have paid off.”

“I do still prefer our practice hours though.” Jace winked and you started smiling while your cheeks heated up.

“So do I.”


Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary: Reader feels that Dean is becoming extremely distant and one night she decides she can’t take it anymore.

Word count: 2140 This one really got away from me.

Warnings: SUPER Angsty, Language, Neglection? Is that a thing? Whatever it is now.  


I couldn’t take it anymore, he was just so absent. He came home late at night and woke up in the afternoons with hangovers you wouldn’t believe.

He stopped any form of affection other than the occasional night in bed together, which I always gave him because I’m so damn desperate for something to convince me that he cares. Although it always leaves me unsatisfied and with cold sheets besides me the next day. I always say that this is my last time, but then he comes home with a look on his face that I can’t deny and, bam. Here I am again.

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Kyungsoo | The Cat’s Pajamas

Originally posted by kkaebsooquishy

Summary: This wasn’t the kind of apology gift you were expecting. Fluff (literally).

(Someone requested an adorable Kyungsoo scenario that I tried and miserably failed to write. Sorry, anon. :c Here’s a completely different cute thing instead, I guess?)

Exhausted from a long day at work, you fish around in your bag for your keys, hoping that on the other side of your door you’re awaited by either a soft bed or the welcoming embrace of death.

Okay, maybe that’s a little over-dramatic. But you’re so tired that when you drop your keys, you’re ready to either cry or scream. Maybe both. You retrieve the keys from the floor with a sigh, then finally unlock the door to your apartment.

You’ve just barely cracked open the door when you hear a panicked “Wait! Don’t come in!”

You pause. “Kyungsoo?”

“Just–one second!” Some bumping and shuffling. A series of scratching noises. Kyungsoo’s muffled swearing. Before you can ask what’s going on, the door swings open and your frazzled boyfriend appears. “Hi, sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay?” you ask, sliding off your coat as you walk past him.

“That depends on your definition of okay?” He closes the door and lets out a long breath. “I did something kind of stupid. But in my defense, it was Chanyeol’s idea.”

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Shut Up

RequestYay! Another Ham imagines blog!!! Could I request an Anthony x shy!reader, and/or a Laurens x shy!reader? Thank you so much! Can’t wait to read more! <3

Pairing: John Laurens x Reader

Word Count: 1135

Warning: Swearing

Saturday morning, you entered a small café with the Schuyler sisters. They invited you to breakfast everyday ever since you moved so near to them. There was nothing wrong with it, it was a sweet gesture although the fact that you had to wake up at 7AM every day to do so because they woke up so early was hard to adjust to.

You sat down with Peggy who was as tired looking as you were. It was soul sucking to be here right now and there was nothing to make it any better. Or so you thought.

You were drifting asleep again when you were suddenly awoken by four rowdy young men entering the café. You’ve seen them a few times before around the town but never made any actual contact to them. There was the short tempered short guy, an aggressive large man who always wears a beanie, a Frenchman with a curly bun, and a guy with a copious amount of freckles on his face.

Correction: a cute guy with a copious amount of freckles on his face.

They sat right next to your table. The guy you were attracted to sitting the closest to where you were. You were full wide awake now, trying to discreetly steal side glances without letting know Peggy what you were up to.

“We have to wait for ten minutes to get our order,” Angelica said, coming back to your table and eyed the young men next to your table. “This café is small, but not that small. I don’t get why they have to sit right next to us.” She exclaimed a little louder, but now in a mocking sarcastic tone.

When the boys all looked up at her, they all goofily grinned at her as she sat down. You saw Eliza make her way to the other end of their table, greeting the short tempered guy with a kiss and a hug. You assumed this was her boyfriend that she gave a second chance to that you’ve heard so much about.

“Who’s your friend?” Alexander, you learned the name, motioned to you as he sat down when Eliza sat down with you.

“Her name is Y/N,” Peggy smiled widely. “She just moved here about two weeks ago.”

“Hi.” Was all you could mutter because the moment you turned to them, freckles dude was staring at you.

“Hercules Mulligan!” The large man grinned widely and nodded.

“Bonjour, Je suis Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.” The Frenchman earned himself a surprised smile and an eyebrow raise as he winked at you while introducing himself rapidly.

“You can call him Lafayette.” Angelica whispered to you and you laughed.

“Alexander Hamilton, but you probably know me already.” He said, smiling at Eliza who blushed.

They all introduced themselves except for the one you liked. He was intently staring at you, or maybe past you but it made you a little self-conscious. You looked at everyone else on the two tables. They were all waiting for him to introduce himself. The sisters had a mischievous smile on their faces when they looked at each other, and the guys did the same.

“Bro,” Hercules nudged him. “Introduce yourself.

“What? Oh- Shit. Right. Um.” He frantically looked at his friends then back at you, you could see how his blush was growing more evidently. You assumed it was probably because he was embarrassed.

“Er. Y/N, right?” You nodded. “God, okay. Holy shit.” He breathed. “I’m John, John Laurens and boy, am I in the place to be right now. Wait, did I just say that out loud? Wai—“

“Dude, chill.” Alex reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, causing everyone to finally let out the loud laughter they were holding in.

“What was that?” Peggy was laughing the hardest.

“You’re usually so calm and smooth, mon ami. What happened?” Lafayette was banging on the table with his fist.

“Shut up.” You heard him mumble and sighed, turning away from you. His ears were even flushed red!


By the time you were all done eating and chatting, everyone was seemingly trying to rush out one by one. You were alone with Eliza, Alex and John on one table right now. Alex did mostly the talking, rambling about his debate with some guy called Jefferson the other day.

“Well,” he breathed out. “That was nice to let that all out. See you guys later, Eliza and I actually have a date today!”

“What? Eliza you never told us you had a-“

“Bye!” She hurriedly said and stood up simultaneously with him. They practically rushed out the café.

You were left alone with John who seemed to be desperately trying to distract himself with his phone that… wasn’t even turned on!

“Well, um…” You thought for a second. “I’ve got to go. This was fun, see you around.”

You, disappointingly, walked out of the café and sighed. He looked to be a fun person. He was talkative and most of the time laughed loudly when he was talking to everyone else but you. Whenever your eyes met, he would look away and you’ve got this horrible feeling in your stomach because maybe, he doesn’t like you as a friend or the way you do.

You were about to get in a cab when you were stopped by someone holding on your wrist firmly. It was John. He was panting and his face was red that reached up to his ears.

“Y/N, wait.” He said, trying to calm himself. “Okay, I know we were so off earlier but it was just because…” He trailed off.

“Because?” You muttered, a little bit of hope glinting in your eyes.

“I- fuck this.” John paused for a moment. “No, wait, I can’t do it.”


For a second there, he was looking serious and confident but that image of him shattered when he loosened his grip on your wrist and looked at you, turning red once more.

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out.


He mumbled again, but still you couldn’t hear.


John sighed. “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened in a small shock and amusement. A smile crept on your lips. “Y-“

“I’m sorry, oh god,” he cut you off almost immediately. He was losing his composure. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful and stuff, I- if that’s going too fast for you then that’s okay we could just-“

It was your turn to cut him off by pressing your lips against his. John responded immediately, putting his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands were placed on his shoulders.

You pulled away. “Shit, was that okay? I mean-“



“Shut up.” You crashed your lips on his again.