raging and sobbing at the same time

A Couple That Games Together

Pairing: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Authors: @ninja-stiles & @mf-despair-queen

Words: 6551

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Oral (female receiving), Edging, Teasing, Stuart being a dick, Horrible video game references.

Author’s Note: Me and Mal co-wrote this (obviously) because Stuart is adorable and sexy af. We have also decided to enter this for Stuart Week ( @sarcasticallystilinski & @rememberstilinski )! This is pure filth and fluff and angst all in one. We make a good team! Lol.


Originally posted by dylanholyhellobrien


It all started in my freshman year of college. That’s when I first met him. The snarky, sarcastic, beanie-wearing cutie that is Stuart Twombly.

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anonymous asked:

Random KakaObi prompt that won't get out of my head. "You are a storm constrained by human skin." (Obito, referring to Kakashi.)

Somehow it turned into Akatsuki!Kakashi, only not. Evil overlords KakaObi? I don’t even know anymore. *dumps it here*


Kakashi finds him in the Mountains’ Graveyard, six months after Rin dies.

It’s strange, jarring, to turn the corner and find a fragment of his old life waiting. Obito stops dead, caught unmasked and unawares, and stares at Kakashi with one of the eyes they share, not entirely able to believe what he’s seeing.

The silence stretches for a long moment, and then Kakashi laughs, sharp and ragged, and pushes his slanted hitai-ate up. The Mangekyo Sharingan darts across Obito’s face, practically drinking him in, and Kakashi breathes, “I knew I wasn’t just going crazy.”

It’s the wording, more than anything, that makes Obito pause instead of reaching for a weapon or giving in to the tempest-lash of rage that splinters through him. He looks Kakashi over, takes in the unwashed clothes, the limpness of his hair, the bags under his eyes. It’s like he hasn’t slept since Rin died, half-manic as he trembles under Obito’s stare.

A part of Obito wants to burn him alive. Another part, deeper and far more desperate, wants to throw his arms around Kakashi and sob the way he hasn’t been able to these aching, festering months, caught up in the throes of grief with no outlet to be had. The rage helps, sometimes.

More often it doesn’t.

“How did you know I was alive?” Obito asks, and it comes out steadier than he expects, less like he’s cracking to pieces on the inside, falling apart now that such a clear reminder of his past is in front of him.

Another ragged breath, and Kakashi reaches up, pressing a hand over his Sharingan eye. “We see the same things, sometimes,” he says. “I just…followed.”

For the first time, it occurs to Obito to wonder if Kakashi is alone. He looks past him, down the tunnel that leads to the surface, takes a step to go and check—

“No!” Kakashi catches his arm, trips and stumbles and falls to his knees. He buries his face in Obito’s robes, clutching at him, clinging like a small child, and says, “Don’t leave, please, don’t—”

That tone sends a shock right through Obito, almost as much as the contact does. Carefully, hesitantly, he lifts a hand to Kakashi’s hair, lightly rests his fingers there and feels as much as hears the sob that shakes through his former teammate. It’s…familiar. Painfully familiar. How many times has Obito wanted to break just like this, over the last few months? More than he can count, really, and the only thing that’s stopped him is a complete lack of people he can trust to catch him when he falls. He hadn’t really thought there was anyone like that left in the whole world, with Rin gone.

Now he has to wonder if Kakashi’s world is a black hell right now, too.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and the words crack in his mouth. He frees himself from Kakashi’s hold for just long enough to drop to the ground in front of him, their knees pressed together and his hand still in Kakashi’s hair. “I just—why are you here?”

“Where else would I be?” Kakashi asks, and he sounds honestly bewildered by the question. “You’re alive, and you’re here, so where else would I go?”

Obito can’t even begin to make sense of that answer. “But Konoha—and Minato-sensei—”

Kakashi raises his head, meets Obito’s gaze with one of the fiercest stares he’s ever seen, and suddenly his short, skinny teammate looks like the jounin he is, deadly and determined.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, like it’s as simple as that.

Maybe it is, but hearing the words like that—

Something inside of Obito cracks right down the center, and it’s like the ice at his core is finally giving way. The heat of rage and the pain of grief aren’t welcome, aren’t pleasant, but—

Surely it’s better than feeling nothing at all.

Somehow his hands are curled around Kakashi’s, holding so tight it’s like he’s daring the world to pull them apart. There are tears on his cheek, sliding crooked and uneven down his scars, but Kakashi makes a quiet, shattered sound and reaches up, brushing them away.

“I want,” Obito starts, but his breath hitches, he shakes, and an instant later Kakashi is dragging him into a hug so tight it aches, desperate fingers in his hair and hitching breaths on his ear. Kakashi’s cheeks are wet, too, and Obito curls his fingers into worn cloth and says, “I want to destroy the world, for what it did to her. For what it did to us.” And maybe it’s the first time he’s acknowledged it, that this isn’t solely for Rin but for himself as well, selfish grief and self-centered anger directed at everyone and everything, but with Kakashi right here, suffering just like Obito is, he can’t do anything but admit it.

Kakashi doesn’t immediately recoil—doesn’t even loosen his grip, upon hearing that. He pauses for a long, long moment, and then whispers, “Rin would hate that.”

A sob tears from Obito’s throat, and he shakes apart, the ice falling away to leave the gaping wounds beneath visible. He hasn’t said her name out loud since the night she died, hasn’t allowed himself to think just how much she would hate him for this plan, how he doesn’t care as long as she’s back.

There’s no way to block out those four little words, though.

Kakashi clutches him tighter, drags Obito in until it’s hard to figure out which limbs belong to whom and where each of them definitively ends. “She would,” he says, almost an apology. “But…if we can’t destroy it, we can save it. So there’s never another story like hers.”

Obito swallows, wants to pull back to look at Kakashi but doesn’t quite dare in case this all shatters into a dream. “I—yes,” he whispers. “We have to change it. We have to—I just want her back—”

“There has to be a way.” Kakashi’s fingers are tight in his robe, and Obito can feel him swallow. “There—somewhere. Someone must have a way.”

If they do find it, they can’t bring her back to this world, though. Can’t bring her back just so she can face more war, more death, more children slaughtered. Something that’s almost a laugh shakes through Obito, and he wonders why he never thought of his alone. Too much time spent listening to Zetsu, probably, and his devotion to Madara’s plan. Obito isn’t devoted, though, and this is Kakashi.

“We’ll save the world, and then we’ll save Rin,” he whispers, and feels Kakashi’s slow, steady breath against his cheek, the faint tip of his head in agreement.

“Together,” Kakashi says, and somehow, when he pulls back and kisses Obito hard, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him back.


Thirty is approaching old age for a shinobi, but Kakashi wears it well, Obito thinks, still sprawled out on their bed. Kakashi moves through the half-dark with even more grace than he had as a child, or a teenager, and a self-assuredness that doesn’t come from all but ruling half the world, though Obito supposes that can’t hurt.

In the slanting light of the full moon, Kakashi is a thing of starlight. His hair is the silver of distant clouds, and his eyes are the deep, dark grey of rain breaking. Easy enough to look at him and see the lightning he hides away in his bones and the fire he keeps in his veins, the only man who can challenge Obito and the only one he’ll ever surrender to.

The world is theirs. Fire Country, Earth Country, and Lightning Country might not know it yet, but they’ll learn. All the other countries have already.

(Minato looked at them with grief and bitterness, the last time they met on the battlefield. He didn’t seem to notice that none of the shinobi on their side were under sixteen, that no children haunted the lines even at the very back. Didn’t seem to know or care that under Obito and Kakashi the smallest nation has exactly as much say as the largest. They’re emperors, but they’re not despots.

If they were, half the countries they rule wouldn’t have accepted their banner without even putting up a fight.)

“You’re looking thoughtful,” Kakashi murmurs. He drapes black and crimson cloth over Obito’s back, bending down to lay a kiss to the bare skin between his shoulder blades.

Obito shivers with pleasure at the touch, feels his breath catch at the sweep of Kakashi’s hand down his flank. By all rights they should be sleeping, gathering strength for the politics and power-jockeying that will come with the morning, but a little indulgence makes the whole day sweeter.

Rolling over, Obito lets Kakashi’s Akatsuki cloak pool beneath him, twists to wind it partway around him just for the hunger it puts in Kakashi’s eyes. In a moment, Kakashi is sliding on top of him, bracing his elbows on either side of Obito’s head as he leans in to kiss him, and it sparks like heat lightning through Obito’s veins.

“You’re like a storm,” he says, and can’t tell if it’s its own thought or an answer to Kakashi’s implied question. “A storm constrained by human skin.”

Constrained by him, he sometimes thinks, in the darkest parts of the night. He isn’t one to doubt, to waver, but sometimes he thinks of Minato, of Kushina bristling with fury at his side and Jiraiya behind him, and thinks that there’s an empty place that Kakashi should be filling. One of the resistance, a hero of Konoha, a pillar of the Will of Fire instead of this…tyrant Obito has turned him into.

Kakashi is his everything, is all the bits of Obito that he can’t quite bear to lose, but sometimes he looks at him and wonders how it would be if things were different.

With a light, thoughtful sound, Kakashi kisses him again, slow and deep and filthy, more intimate then some sex they’ve had. Obito moans into his mouth, and Kakashi chuckles, nipping his lip as he pulls away.

“That means you’re a wildfire,” he murmurs, right into Obito’s skin. “Always burning, always my light, scorching the earth but leaving fertile soil for new growth.”

“That’s all I can hope for,” Obito says, a little wry. He hesitates, and then offers cautiously, “Minato thinks my eye corrupted you.”

“Minato can think whatever he likes,” Kakashi says flatly, and it’s a sore point that Obito usually tries not to pick at, but—

Kakashi’s kiss stops his next words, and he gives in gratefully to the distraction, wrapping a leg around Kakashi’s waist and flipping them easily. Kakashi makes a low, intent sound as Obito settle astride his hips, and Obito shoves down the vague shadows of doubt that linger.

Kakashi is a storm in the moonlight, and the world is theirs. They’re saving it, even if some people would call it conquering.

Obito’s never been afraid to stain his hands, and neither has Kakashi. They’ll do what they need to in order to bring a brighter future, even if it means that ruin comes before redemption for some of the countries.

Between a storm and a wildfire, the world can be remade, and there’s no one who can stop them.

He kisses Kakashi, and it tastes like rain and lightning on his tongue.

anonymous asked:

idk if you've already done this but could you do a head canon where soda finds out you've been jumped or got in a fight?? ty

YOOOOO LETS DO THIS SHIT

- this boy would be raging like RAGING
- he would be frantic and panicky at the same time tho
- lots of cursing
- ‘Fuck, dick, shit, bitch.’
- he would be able to look at you without being mad
- ‘god what did those bastards do to you beautiful face?’
- he would automatically think it was his fault for not being there with you
- he doesn’t want Pony to see him that mad so he tells Darry to take him out of the room
- punches walls
- breaks said walls
- I feel like he would also be a crier
- like not sobbing but would let a few tears out
- 'god baby, I am so-so sorry. You don’t understand…I will do anything to keep you safe from them.’
- DOES NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE AFTER
- AT ALL
- YOU GOTTA PEE IN A PUBLIC BATHROOM???
- BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE SODAS GONN’ BE IN THERE WITH YOU
- he is suspicious of all socs
- gave a nine year old the stink eye once for walkin too close to you
- always has a hand around you no matter what and insists he walks on your right side all the time
- will without hesitation throw himself infront of you if he sees a socs

Stomach Tied In Knots l Shawn Mendes Imagine.

a/n: HELLO! I had this idea while listening to the song “Stomach Tied In Knots” by Sleeping With Sirens, so you’ll find some of the lyrics on the dialogues? lol, I hope you enjoy it <3 x.

prompt: (y/n) & Shawn’s relationship is hanging by a thread after she cheated on him. (kinda based on the song “Stomach Tied In Knots” by Sleeping With Sirens.

Shawn didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry when he got her message saying she wanted to talk.

She had been giving him space after the disastrous events happened, but after three weeks of complete silence from his part she started to get anxious. 

She knew that she didn’t have the right to feel anxious at all, or to feel a tiny bit annoyed because he hadn’t given her a sign or something, but she couldn’t help it. 

She couldn’t believe the events that had taken place that night. She was the perfect girl. She was quiet and loved her boyfriend dearly, so it didn’t make sense to her when she found herself on a stranger’s house, naked.

On the other hand, he still couldn’t fully process the fact that his girlfriend had cheated on him. simple as that.

He wanted to hate her with every cell on his body, but he just wasn’t able to. He wanted for her to disappear and leave him alone, trying to pretend their relationship had never happened in the first place, but he knew that wasn’t possible as the only thing replaying on his head was the night he found out.

“I can’t believe you finally got your own place, it’s amazing.” she said admiring the view of the imposing city in front other.

“I can’t believe it myself,” he chuckled, circling his arms around her waist and nuzzling his head on her neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“So have I, honey.” she giggled, leaving a quick peck on his arm.

“Pizza should be arriving soon, wanna go to the bedroom? We can continue watching Grey’s.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“You should give up that show already, everyone dies.” 

“Lexie Grey is still alive so everything’s good.” he said and she pursed her lips.

“Sure thing, babe.” she kissed his lips before heading to his new bedroom.

She took a minute to breathe. 

She was acting like nothing had happened only a couple of days ago when Shawn was still on tour and the truth was that it was eating her up. She was choking with guilt and words that wanted to leave her mouth but they couldn’t.

Shawn was everything she ever dreamed of. She already knew that she wasn’t enough for someone like him, but she was too selfish to admit that out loud because she loved him, with every bit of her being.

But then everything happened so fast…

She took off her shirt to change into one of Shawn’s and slip inside the bed, but she didn’t notice that he was making his way inside, and was able to notice her bare front.

Two purple marks still very visible between her breast and collarbone.

She watched his eyes widen in surprise. It was like someone had punched him right on his stomach, because suddenly it felt like he wasn’t getting enough air and the walls were closing in on him.

“What are those?” he asked with careful eyes and a slightly shaky voice.

“Shawn…” she said quickly putting the shirt back on.

“What are those?” he asked again but this time his voice wasn’t shaking, instead it was full of rage.

“Shawn, you have to listen to me.” she said desperately.

“Oh God, you did it.” he whispered and stared at the figure in front of him almost as if he was afraid of her.

“You have to let me explain.” she could feel her eyes fill with tears already and panic was flowing on her veins.

“Get out.” Shawn said dryly.

“No. Please, Shawn.”

“(y/n), I’m serious…” he was going to continue but her voice interrupted him.

“Please listen, Shawn…”

“I said get out.” 

He didn’t need to raise his voice, because for some reason she could sense every feeling his words were carrying.

She tried to look for his eyes desperately, but he was standing next to the bedroom door, waiting for her to leave.

“Please, at least tell me that we’ll talk at some point.” she begged him.

“Get out.”

This time he rose his voice, making her flinch.

But she did leave the room and suddenly, the sound of a door closing filled Shawn’s ears.

He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream.

He didn’t move.


Three weeks weren’t enough to erase the images of the purple marks on her body.

Twenty-one days weren’t enough to erase the feel in his gut; the feel of everything he had worked so hard for two years was crumbling right in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

His stomach was tied in knots, because he was afraid of what he’d find if she wanted to talk tonight.

But he ignored it, texting her to meet him at his place whenever she felt like it.

And it didn’t take her more than an hour to get to his new condo; a place he had pictured to make happy memories with her, not that the first time he had her over he’d have to see the remains of her night with someone that wasn’t him.

He slowly opened the door to reveal her figure.

It wasn’t the imposing figure he had grown used to, she had made herself small. That was the way she was dealing with the guilt of making the man she loved suffer.

“Hi.” she whispered, nervously tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Come in.” he said harshly. way more than he expected.

“I’m glad that you called… I really wanted to talk to you.” 

“I didn’t call, you did.” he told her dryly, trying to look uninterested. “You have your time to explain or whatever.” he said placing his body against the door.

“Can we sit down?”

“You can if you want to, I’m good here.” he said trying to compose his tough facade. 

“Shawn, I’m so sorry.” she said with tears in her eyes.

“I figured.”

“Dammit, Shawn! Can you please act like you give a crap about me.” she said hiding her face on her hands.

“Oh, I have to give a crap about you, but did you give a crap when you were fucking someone that wasn’t me?” he spat and his feelings started to show.

“I don’t know how it happened, you have to believe me.” she said getting up from her seat, walking towards Shawn.

“Don’t,” he placed his hand in front of him. “Don’t come near me, please.” he said with pain evident on his voice.

“I missed you so much, I couldn’t deal with you being away for so long…”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now? You know what, (y/n)? I missed you, too, but I didn’t go to screw the first girl who appeared on my way.”

“I love you. It was one bad call, please. I don’t want nobody else, I love you.” she begged.

“You cheated on me.” he said with his voice shaking with pain, rage and a feeling he wasn’t able to decipher.

“And I’ll never forgive myself for that, hell, I can’t even live with myself right now” she choked a sob. “But please tell me we can try again.”

“It would never be the same. I don’t trust you anymore.” he shook his head and didn’t notice her body coming closer.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust.”

“It’s not that easy.” he released a humorless laugh.

“Baby, I’m still the person you fell in love with. It’s me, can’t you see it?” this time her body was inches away from his and her hand softly caressed his cheek.

Shawn reacted to the touch, involuntarily leaning his head to her warm hand as his eyes closed.

I only have myself to blame, but please tell me we can start again.” she whispered, her own eyes closed. “

“(y/n)…” Shawn whispered and opened his eyes, only to see her tear stained cheek and her beautiful eyes closed.

I can’t live without you.

The feeling he hadn’t been able to figure out before suddenly overtook his body.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

Mike Wheeler’s never been an expert at managing his anger.

For as long as he can possibly remember, he’s always taken what begins as small spats very personally, to the point where he himself would wonder why he couldn’t bring himself to let it go.

When he was five, a nine year old Nancy accidentally broke his toy firetruck after stepping on it carelessly, and his small face turned such an alarming shade of red Karen had him sit in his room for a few minutes in order to calm down. While he lay in his bed, she brought him a PB&J (his favorite) and promised to purchase him another truck. It isn’t just the truck Mike wished he could properly communicate to her. How could his big sister be so careless? Didn’t she care about his things? About him?

Despite his 5 year old passion and genuine anger, things were so much simpler when he was younger; in retrospect. 

Seven years later, when an alien of a girl crashes into his life like a meteor across the Andromeda, and promptly leaves the same way, something inside him just breaks.

“Mike c'mon man, you can’t spend your entire life sulking.” Lucas sighs. It’s when he, Will and Dustin find him sitting on the basement couch with a blank expression that he decides to speak up. “Earth to Mike!”

“Lucas leave me alone okay? Please.“ It was the first time Lucas saw true desperation in his best friend’s eyes, and the same look that almost made him relent, pushed him to give him the wake up call he knew he needed.  

 "No, you can’t just sit in this basement and think that it’s gonna solve everything, it won’t and we both know it.”

 “What am I supposed to do? Go out and ride my bike? Go to the arcade? Pretend? She should be here too!” It slipped. Mike had no intention of even mentioning her, trying for months to imagine a world where he never met her, causing his heart to empty out in the form of emotions he didn’t know how to deal with.

 “And you don’t think I know that? Just an FYI, both Dustin and I were there in that very same classroom. We all saw it. You don’t think that very image keeps me up at night?! I cared about her too! But if I let it run my life, I’ll be lost just like–” Lucas stopped himself. Everyone in the room knew how that sentence was going to end, but accepting what it meant was difficult for all of them. To that both Will and Dustin let out a long sigh they didn’t realize they were holding in.

 “Just like me? Don’t you think I know that Lucas?! God, why don’t you do me a favor and just get lost?!”

Doing just that Lucas storms off and slams the door, with only a sigh and a immensely hurt look on his face. 

 “Mike…” Dustin starts, moving from his and Will’s spot by the stairs. 

“What?!

 Dustin flinches slightly, but holds his resolve firmly. “We only want to see you you again, dude. We’re all hurt, but we have to accept that nothing’s the same anymore. We still have to stick together no matter what.” Mike doesn’t look up, and Dustin takes that as his cue to leave. “C'mon, Will.” 

Will takes one long last look at Mike before following his friend out the basement door.

 Ugh they never understand! They don’t see her every time they close their eyes, every time they wake up, every time they look at that damn fort!

 Storming over to the fort, he begins to tear it apart, every piece, every soft smile, every longing look; every memory. Reduced to tears, Mike is unable to control the soft sobs that escape him. She’s not coming back. And no amount of red faced and angry hearted rage would ever bring her back. Nothing’s the same anymore. And they never would be. Not without Eleven.

archiveofourown.org
I Could Even Learn How To Love (Like You) - Chapter 1 - fireflysummers_ao3 - モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100 [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction

I Could Even Learn How to Love (Like You)

Teru realizes that, despite his best attempts, he still isn’t a great person.

That doesn’t stop him from trying though.

(Dedicated to @uncannycookie​, @auro-cyanide​, @terubi​, @avoresmith for getting me Thinking About The Haystack Child Again)

(Doubly dedicated to @rustnut​ and @ofpaintedflowers​ for being my betas)


|| Chapter 1 ||

Keep reading

First You Fall

Maisie Dalton fixed things.  And Niall Horan was definitely broken.

Chapter 23

Niall kept his attention focused on the console in front of him.  He toyed with a few knobs that didn’t actually do anything, but Maisie didn’t know that.  All he could think about once her perfume invaded his senses was the last time they’d been in this room and how soft her skin was beneath his calloused, rough fingers.  And then the anger raged up from somewhere beneath his toes.

He took a deep breath, mostly to keep his cool but also because he’d been holding it since the moment she walked in. He didn’t turn around.  He promised himself he wouldn’t.  If he looked at her, there’s no telling what he would’ve been willing to let go.

“Niall-”

“Whatcha doin’ here?”  He interrupted, his voice forceful and full of anger.

Maisie could feel his fury.  It was terrifying.  She didn’t think anyone had ever resented her more than Niall did and he had good reason.  She felt her insides shake,

“Niall, please.”

Niall stayed silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it actually hurt.

“Niall, I’m so sorry.”  She whispered, the shake in her voice doing nothing to ease his irritation.  She glanced down, trying desperately to swallow the huge lump in her throat, “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“Doesn’t matter.”  He answered, his voice stoic.  

“I know I hurt you.”


He shook his head,

“Didn’t hurt me.”  

Keep reading

Don’t Leave

Originally posted by jeonngi

Genre: Angst, Vampire!AU, Oneshot

Word Count: 1,248

Summary: “I THOUGHT YOU’VE BEEN DEAD. FOR TEN YEARS. WHY ARE YOU ON MY FRONT DOORSTEP. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME CRY LIKE THIS I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU AND WHY DID YOU EVEN LEAVE IN THE FIRST PLACE” au (prompt, I’ll link it when I have time)

A/N: I wanted to try writing angst for once instead of my usual fluff but even this ending kind of….nice?? Nicer than I originally planned but oh well. I hope you enjoy, it was inspired by my Vamp!Tae story that I’m working on redoing…..revamping lol. 


Ten years ago today was the worst day of [Y/N]’s life.

Ten years ago today she had been bitten by her then boyfriend and turned into a vampire.

She remembered waking up in indescribable pain as her body changed and looking up to see her boyfriend crying and apologizing. At first she had no memory of what happened and was confused as to what was happening but as she saw the dried blood that stained his shirt it all came back: how odd he was the night he came to see her, with his eyes wide and and bloodshot, his hands jittery. Then there was the pain. He wasted no time in pushing her back into her home and sinking his teeth into the flesh of her neck.

She remembers the pain being unbearable before she passed out.

When she woke to him sobbing over her pain riddled body she felt nothing but pain and rage.

Now that she thought about it ten years later, she felt the same.

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3

Move A Mountain add-ons  →  #eternalmam
 ↳ broken

Alex Band - Only One

Words cannot describe the feeling that washes over Derek when the door of the garage bursts open and he spots Laura standing in the doorway, phone in her hand. They won’t do it justice.

“Derek,” she says, voice unsteady, but he already knows what it’s about.

It feels like he’s falling, the ground disappearing beneath his feet. He rises from where he’s been crouching next to the bike he’d been working on seconds ago, nearly losing his balance. A wrench slips from his hand, almost landing on his right foot, but he barely even registers the clattering sound as it makes contact with the concrete floor.

“Stiles was in an accident,” Laura continues, actually confirming Derek’s worst nightmare coming true. “I don’t know what happened. I just— The hospital—” She waves weakly with her phone.

He can feel something sharp grip around his heart, tugging, ripping him open.

Stiles. Oh god, Stiles.

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Dirty Imagine #1 - Part Four (FINALE)

Here is part 4, the final part to my first ‘dirty imagine’ series. The second series (a brand new story) will be made in around about 1 month.

Part 4 - FINALE

I knew Justin was leaving the country soon, in a matter of days in fact. He was half way through his tour and was moving on to the next country soon. This made me sad because I realised I would probably never see Justin Bieber ever again in person.  Not only did I want to see him again because I love him and he is my idol, and I adore his music; I’m not going to lie – I wanted him to fuck me again. He was so so good the last two times, and I felt the best I’d ever felt in my life. However the day was coming to a close and it was 9:15 pm. I was sure that I’d never see him again.

That was until my phone rang. I answered it hoping it would be him, and to my delight, it was. Just like the last phone call he was speaking in a low pitch rumbling tone that was incredibly seductive. There was a bit more urgency in his voice this time though. “Hey baby. You know I’m leaving in two days right?” I told him I did know that, and I was going to miss him. He replied with “one last time?” and I instantly knew what he meant. I agreed straight away. But there was a problem. Everyone was home, he couldn’t come over. “I’ll pick you up then, I’m staying in a holiday home at the moment, it’s real nice” is what he replied with. The thought of that sounded amazing, so I agreed. 30 minutes later he picked me up from down the street. He couldn’t pick me up from directly outside my house, because my parents would see the car and be wondering who it was.

We were off and driving. On the way to the home we chatted about his music, and how much we enjoyed what we previously did to each other. He had a hungry look in his eyes, and he was feasting on my body with them.  While driving along I couldn’t help but reach over and place my hand on his limp dick. “Not now baby, I’m driving”. “I know” I said. But I continued, and I think he didn’t mind that I continued, because he softly bit his lip. I was just gently rubbing jerry and I could feel his dick growing fast in his pants. So I slipped my hands under his undies, and began wanking off my idol. When we stopped at traffic lights we didn’t have to worry about anyone, because we had extremely dark tinted windows. So at the next set of lights I pulled his pants and undies all the way off, so he was wearing nothing but a shirt. His long dick was so big, when it was rock hard it was just about touching the steering wheel. “Woah slow down baby! Save it for later!” he told me, but I didn’t. I went from pulling on his dick to putting my mouth around it, and sucking him off fast. He started moaning and I swirled the knob of his dick around on my tongue, each time going down trying to fit more and more of his massive length in my mouth. I began gagging on his huge cock, and this made him hornier. After continually sucking, his moans grew louder and he  was fidgeting around a lot. He was anxious. Finally, as I kept sucking, he said “I’m about to explode!” and I stopped immediately.  His eyes widened. “KEEP GOING!” he shouted. “Wouldn’t want to get cum on your car, we’ll have to wait” I said with a wink. “I DON’T CARE, KEEP GOING!” he shouted again, but I refused. He was so sexually frustrated now. As we pulled up to the holiday home he was so eager to fuck me. He jumped out of the car, picked me up, and ran inside with me in his arms. “I’m going to punish you for that!” I looked down his body while he was running to see he had a massive boner, he was so hungry for pussy. More than he’d even been.

He led me upstairs and into the bathroom. “What are we doing?” I said. “Just be quiet and let me fuck you” he said. So I did just that. He quickly undressed both of us so we were completely naked. He turned the shower on, and took me in there. “You’re a dirty dirty girl” he whispered to me, as his finger entered me. I could feel his massive dick pushed up against my stomach; it was throbbing and hot in a sea of cold. There was no slow build up to this like the other times. No stuffing around, he wanted to fuck me - and fast. He was furiously fingering my pussy and I was moaning. My legs were shaking and I felt they couldn’t hold me up much longer, and I told him. He said “I’ll fix that” and he picked up my legs and pushed me toward the wall. He had me help up in the corner, with nothing supporting me apart from his hands and the wall behind my back. “I’m going to give you the best sex you’ve ever had” he whispered. This made me so horny, and now all I wanted was to feel Justin inside of me. “Please, please fuck me Justin.” He stopped. “Say my full name. Say it like you mean it. Come on!” He had an aggressive tone. I replied with. “Justin Bieber, please fuck me as hard as you can.” “That’s more like it” he said.

Right as he said that he plunged deep inside of me, and I let out a squeal. He began thrusting in and out of me, and I could do nothing but take it. I had literally no power. I couldn’t move because he had be ascended and pushed against the wall, holding my two legs apart. Then this happened, the most romantic and exciting moment of my life. It just felt like slow motion. As he pumped his dick into my pussy, in, out, in, out, over and over again, he was staring me right in the eyes from right in front of me. We were both soaking wet from the shower, water dripping down us constantly, and there were his large eyes staring at me while he made sweet love to me. I pulled his neck in, towards me. I was now passionately pashing Justin Bieber in the shower while he fucked me. It looked like this:

It was the best feeling in the world; his long dick pumping in and out of my pussy. It wasn’t too long before I was ready to come, and I told him. That didn’t change anything though, and I could tell he was about to cum too. We both grew louder and the fucking grew faster, both now moaning so loud it could be heard from miles away. With one last effort he pumped jerry all the way into my pussy and held it there was we both cummed. To feel Justin’s cum being shot into you is something indescribable. We cleaned up and left the bathroom.

Apparently Justin wasn’t done. He took me to the holiday home’s master bedroom, which had a massive luxurious bed. I really loved it. Justin whispered in my ear “I’m going to fuck you in style baby.” And that got me wet again. Before I knew it Justin had thrown me on the bed. We were both still completely naked. Justin saw that I was wet again. He did that cheeky grin of his and laughed. I laughed back and said “stop it!” and blushed. It was a cute moment. He replied with “Aww, baby. You get excited so easily!” and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you this time. This is the last time I’ll ever get to be inside you, I want to make the most of it” “Okay Justin, lets do this.” He smiled at me and softly kissed my lips, and then slowly edged Jerry inside my vagina. It once again is an indescribable feeling having Justin Bieber’s dick inside you. The feeling of your lips tightening and your muscles tensing as you feel him put more of him in you.

He started fucking me nice and slow. It was nice. I was feeling his abs and he was kissing my boobs while playing around with my clit while he made love to me. He got faster and faster, and our demand grew. He pulled out of me and laid on his back, his dick was now pointing directly in the air. He signalled me to hop on, and ride his dick. I did as he asked. His legs were wide open and I crouched above the tip of his dick. I slowly descended upon it, and pushed it into my pussy. It felt amazing. I began grinding and rocking backwards and forth on his dick. We were both doing equal amounts of work now. He was thrusting up and pumping his dick into me, while I rocked forward, back, and sidewards, making him go crazy and moan. I was riding his dick like a raging bull, and I loved it. I could tell he was ready to cum and so was I. It looked like this:

This was it. The last time ever. I was now in so much pleasure I had tears rolling down my cheek. I was basically sobbing, calling his name. “Justinnn, please! Cum in me baby, please”. He moaned, and started pumping into me faster, and I knew he was having an orgasm. This pushed me over the edge, and we were not having an orgasm at the same time. Just like in the shower he shot his load right into my pussy, and my juices squirted all over him while he was inside me. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, as my lips tightened around his throbbing warm dick. My juices came gushing out as he pulled jerry out of me, and we both let out a sigh. He wiped his finger down the lining of my pussy lips, gathering my juices, before putting his finger to his face and licking it clean. “I’ll never forget the taste of you” he said, as he walked me to the door. “I’ll never forget the feeling of you inside me”, I whispered. I kissed him on the lips and left his house - for good.

The end.

Thank you so much for all your support, and I look forward to writing another series in the not too distant future! Until then be sure to follow my main blog. http://justinbiebersbulge.tumblr.com

Moving On (Sherlock x Reader)

A/N: Just a little thing I wrote for pretty much zero reason other than to vent some angsty feelings I was holding in my soul. Hope it’s not too terrible. Enjoy!

—————

“Funny seeing you here,” you joked as you looked down at the grave marked Sherlock Holmes. The grave of your boyfriend. Your soulmate.

Your everything.

The humor quickly left your face as you fell silent, sitting down on the hard, damp ground in front of the headstone. For a moment you couldn’t think of anything to say. A humorless chuckle escaped you as you felt your eyes grow hot and watery as you fought fiercely against the urge to cry. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry this time. I don’t why I thought I could manage that. Thinking about you always…” You closed your eyes, causing tears to leak silently down your cheeks. “It always gets to me.”

Eventually, you gave up on controlling your cries and just let them happen. They were the quiet sort of cries that only came with time. They weren’t the same sounds that had once escaped you when you’d first learned of your boyfriend’s apparent suicide nor were they screaming sobs of rage you’d vent in the middle of the night after you awoke from a dream of black curls and sharp blue eyes. They were the sounds of someone who had managed to accept the grim reality of their circumstances, who’d accepted that someone they loved would never return to them.

This realization, one you’d had a few days before, cut you deep. It also made you remember why you’d come to the cemetery in the first place. Wiping away the tears, you stood up from where you sat and stared at the name, imagining yourself staring at those clear, all-seeing eyes instead of dull, gray stone. “Listen, Sherlock, I came here because I need to tell you something. I… I can’t do this. I can’t hang onto your memory, it’s just… it’s too painful.”

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself before you continued. “I’m moving on. I’ve put my flat up and I’m leaving London. Well, actually, I’m leaving England.” You let the news hang in the air, as if waiting for the dead man to reply to you with some sort of insight.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. So you continued on. “Lestrade said there was a position open higher up that someone wanted me to fill- something with Interpol, I think. I’m pretty sure this was all your brother’s doing. You know how connected the man is.” You allowed yourself a small chuckle. “Anyway, I don’t know where they’re sending me, but I leave in a few days. I couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. I know you didn’t necessarily believe in life beyond death, but I like to believe you’re still out there somewhere, listening to this conversation right now.”

Little did you know, he was listening. Not from beyond the grave, but from a bench- incognito- twenty feet away from you. Sherlock watched as you finally said your final, tearful goodbyes. He gazed at your retreating figure as you turned his back on him and left him behind.

Good, he thought. You deserved to move on. You deserved more than the sadness and emptiness of grief. Especially when the grief was over someone who was most certainly alive and kicking. He hoped one day, if he returned to London, you’d forgive him for what he’d done. For now, though, he had work to do.

Cameron Dallas - A great man

Request:  Hi can you do a Cameron fanfiction where the girl gets bullied and Cameron is there for her thanks! Ilysm I love your stories!❤️

MASTERLIST

No matter how old you are, where you are from or what is your job, bullies can always get to you. I learned it the hard way and believe me, it shattered my whole world.

The whole thing started when I started dating Cameron Dallas. Yes, the Vine star. I just graduated from college and I just started to work for an event organizer company and I was working on a party in New York to where he was invited. The whole evening I always caught him staring at me and when he had any kind of questions he looked for me to ask them. The room was full with famous and well-known people, so I didn’t understand his sudden interest in me, but when at the end of the night he asked for my number, I would have been a fool to say no. We started to meet when we both had some free hours, he took me out for dinner, we attended parties together and slowly we became a thing. Since we did not really care about if people could see us holding hands or just having fun somewhere, it was a public fact that we were together. We never denied it when someone asked it, there was no need to make it harder with secrets and hiding anything.

But this publicity meant that we were a free target to anyone who had problems with our relationship. I had to be active on so many social media platforms, meaning a lot of people had access to reach out to me. I started to get rude messages and hateful tweets as a reaction to everything I done. Fans were constantly raging about how unworthy I was for Cam and how he needed someone else (usually that one was them, of course).

I wasn’t that stupid to just sit around and read them, but I couldn’t just ignore everything. Luckily most of the time I was super busy. My job ensured to keep me occupied all day and when I was done I liked to focus on my loved ones. Then Cam and I moved together after our two years anniversary, everyone was talking about it and the indignation was bigger than ever. They criticized our decision, or more likely Cam’s decision on taking this step with me, some were saying that we were too young (Gosh, we both were 24…) and last but not least they were saying that I was just using Cameron. But I honestly did not know how I could use him since our jobs were completely different.

So the hate grew and sometimes it got harder for me to deal with it. I had bad days just like everyone else and all the messages and hate I got just worsened the situation.

I went home stressed, I had a super rough day since I had three events for the weekend and I still had a lot of preparations before the start. I messed up a few things in addition and a guy spilled coffee to my favorite skirt in the coffee shop, so I was having enough of that day. I kicked my high heels down and collapsed to the couch.

“Hey baby, you hungry?” Cam asked walking out of the kitchen.

“I’m famished, I couldn’t get a normal lunch, I had to go to the post office in my lunch break,” I growled closing my eyes and relaxing just for a few minutes.

“I made pasta, I’ll get you a plate okay?” he murmured kissing the top of my head.

“Thank you,” I sighed a bit relieved. At least my night was saved by my amazing boyfriend. Cam disappeared in the kitchen again leaving me alone. His laptop was set on the table and his fan mails were opened. He liked to just sit down every day for at least half an hour and read a few of them. I took the laptop to my lap and started to scroll down. My already low mood got even lower as I saw that most than half of them were about me. His fans were mailing him about how unworthy and ugly I was. I opened a few of them and got devastated that they took the time to pick on me in a fan mail that was sent to him. All of them were almost the same. Raging about my appearance, my behavior and that I was just a bitch that uses him for fame. I got angry and depressed at the same time. That was one thing that they had been doing this directly to me, but why would they send him mails like that? I thought these mails were for them to show their love and respect for him.

He came back with a plate of pasta in his hands, but he stopped next to the couch when he saw what I was doing. My eyes were watered and I couldn’t hold back a sob.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered setting the laptop back to the table. He put the plate down and sat down next to me. He didn’t say anything just put his arms around me and held me close as I sobbed into his chest like a little baby.

“You don’t have to be sorry, baby, it’s okay,” he murmured running his hands up and down on my sides.

“I don’t know why they don’t just stop doing this,” I sighed whipping my tears away.

“Neither do I and I feel so bad.”

“I can’t believe that 14 years-old bullies can make me cry,” I laughed at myself sitting up and getting a tissue. “I’m an adult for God’s sake.”

“Little girls can be cruel sometimes, don’t be hard on yourself,” Cam said giving me a smile.

“Yeah, I’m so glad I didn’t have to live like this in high school. I had so much lower self-esteem, it would have been a total disaster,” I responded shaking my head.

“We are lucky that you are now a mature, strong and beautiful woman,” he added with a wide grin on his face.

“Just because I have a great man next to me.”

“Mhm, then I say, let that great man take care of you tonight. Eat your dinner, then we are going to have a bath and cuddle all night. How does it sound?”

I smiled at him thankfully. Wasn’t he amazing? I was lucky to have him.

“Sounds perfect.”

completetotalotakufangirl  asked:

Can you please do fraxus, stingue, nalu, gajevy and a ship of your choice with the prompts rage, kidnap, injured, wish, and a prompt of your choice

Fraxus + Rage

   Laxus cursed as he was forced to fling himself backwards to escape Freed’s claws, the sound of material ripping telling him that he had only just got out of the way in time and he used a burst of lightning to put some more distance between them. It wasn’t the first time he had been forced to face an out of control Freed, but he had never seen the demon’s face twisted with rage like it was now and he had to admit, to himself at least that his mate was terrifying like this.

“Freed…” He tried to reach out to him again, already knowing that it wasn’t going to work even before runes flashed in the air around the demon and with a cry he found himself flying backwards a moment later, grunting as he slammed into a wall, his vision blurring for a moment. “Damn it Freed! Speak to me! Tell me how to help me…” Laxus paused for a moment, pushing himself back to his feet and lifting his head to meet Freed’s gaze. “Tell me what’s made you so angry!” For a brief second there was a flash of turquoise in the dark eyes, the demon faltering and Laxus watched hopefully as Freed’s expression flickered for a moment…the resolve that appeared a moment later sending a fresh spark of alarm through him.

“I did…by becoming a threat to you…” Before Laxus could even begin to work out what that meant Freed had turned and bolted, leaving the Dragon-slayer with a sinking feeling that things were worse than he had feared.

Stingue + Rage

    Rogue ignored the sound of his guildmates hammering on the infirmary door, trusting his shadows to hold them at bay long enough for him to do what had to be done. He could feel the grief that was rising in his chest, but it still felt like it was miles away, buried beneath the rage that had been threatening to engulf him from the moment he had seen his mate go down…only now it wasn’t being held at bay by fear, or by the hope that everything was going to be okay…because there was nothing left to hope for. A broken noise that was half sob, half snarl escaped before he could stop it as he turned to look at the still figure on the bed…Sting looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping and Rogue wished he was. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to turn away, unsurprised by the mass of shadows that were swirling around behind him…the shadows that had only been kept at bay by his mate, but right now he didn’t want them to be held at bay, he wanted their help…he needed them to give his rage shape and he held out his hand towards them.

“Help me…help me destroy the ones that hurt him…”

NaLu + Rage

“Natsu! Stop! You need to stop!” Lucy screamed as she flung herself into the Dragon-slayer’s path, squeezing her eyes shut as she realised that Natsu wasn’t slowing down, his flames rushing towards her and she tried to brace herself for the pain to come. The temperature of the air around her soared to new heights, but the pain never came and slowly she opened her eyes to find that Natsu had stopped just short of him, olive eyes wide as he stared at her…the rage slowly draining from his expression as he stretched a trembling hand out towards her and she held her breath as his fingers brushed against his cheek.

“Lucy…?” It was clear that he wanted to believe that it was her, but that he was afraid to in case it hurt him even more than the thought of her being dead…eyes softening Lucy closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms tightly around him and feeling the sob welled up as he buried his face against her shoulder.

“It’s okay…I’m okay, so you don’t have to fight anymore…”

Gajevy + Rage

    Gajeel snarled furiously as he flung himself at the cell door again, his hands already bleeding from his previous attempts as he clawed at the door, only to find himself being flung backwards by the same barrier that had stopped him from getting out every other time he had tried. Clumsily he staggered back to his feet, his vision blurring slightly but he ignored it and charged forward again as he heard another scream from down the corridor…the sound of Levy in pain tearing him apart and driving him into a frenzy, his weariness and pain fading away as he tried to find a way out of his prison. It was clear that he had been expected, there was no metal in the door and it was heavily warded…shuddering under the impact of his body but giving no sign that it was going to give way any time soon and he snarled again, barely aware of the greenish glow growing around his body as he flung himself at the door again and again. Another scream had him doubling over, his draconic side rising in his chest at the realisation that they could lose their mate, scales spreading along his skin as he lost himself to the dragon….if his own strength wasn’t enough to protect Levy then he would use whatever help he could get. His awareness was slipping as he surrendered himself to his magic, and he was vaguely aware of the wards shimmering and shattering before he slipped away completely, trusting his draconic side to do what he couldn’t.

Fraxus + Injured

   Freed stirred weakly as he heard a familiar growl, the warm body that he was resting against vibrating with the noise and a small smile tugged at his lips as he felt the arms tugging him closer. Laxus… Everything around him was hazy and his mind felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, but he would recognise his mate’s presence at any time, and he tilted his head up to the peer at the Dragon-slayer, blinking as another growl rumbled through his mate, slowly morphing into a snarl at the end and he frowned in concern…Laxus only ever made that noise when something was wrong.

“Lax…us?” His frown deepened at the broken sound of his own voice and the sheer amount of effort it had taken just to say that one word, but he was relieved when the snarl cut off midway, the warm arms tightening around his waist as Laxus dropped his head to rest on his shoulder.

“Freed…” The sheer relief in his mate’s voice stunned him. “How do you feel? The others have gone for help so you only have to hold out a little longer…” It took a moment for the words to register with his sluggish brain, confusion reigning until he made the mistake of trying to shift into a more upright position, a gasp escaping before the pain had fully registered…now that he was aware of it though he glanced down, wishing that he hadn’t as he took in the crude bandage across his midriff, understanding now why his overprotective mate had been growling…but wishing that he didn’t, because now that he was focused on it, the pain was inescapable and he couldn’t quite hold back a whimper as he admitted quietly.

“It hurts…”

Stingue + Injured

“I’m sorry.” The quiet whisper made Sting falter, his arms tightening around Rogue’s legs as he felt his mate shifting restlessly against his back, frowning as he caught the soft intake of breath that accompanied the movement and he had to bite back the urge to scold the other Dragon-slayer. It was a relief to hear Rogue’s voice after walking in silence for nearly an hour, but an apology had been the last thing he had expected to hear and he couldn’t quite keep the tension out of his voice as he tilted his head towards his mate.

“Why are you apologising?”

“I screwed up…”

“I think that’s my line,” Sting replied with a sigh. “If I hadn’t been distracted you wouldn’t have needed to protect me.” You wouldn’t have been injured trying to shield me, he couldn’t bring himself to say that thought aloud, guilt churning unpleasant in his stomach as he began to move forward once more…he could make sure that Rogue got back and treated, and then he could worry about everything else.

NaLu + Injured

   Lucy tapped her foot impatiently against the floor as she stared at the door, she wasn’t fooled by the lack of response, she knew that Natsu was in the house and that he was fully aware of who was at the door…which meant that he was deliberately avoiding her. Not that, that was much of a surprise after the last few days as the Dragon-slayer had refused to be in the same room as her, let alone look or speak to her ever since she had woken in the infirmary after their last job…her memory of the job was hazy at best, although the memory of being hurt was painfully clear, but she could remember Natsu’s arms around her, his voice tight with worry as he pleaded with her to hold on. It was that memory that told her why the idiot was trying so hard to avoid her at the moment…he blamed himself, not just for the injury but for the fact that he had only thing he had been able to do to help was drag her home to people who could actually heal her. It wasn’t the first time he had acted this way, although it was the longest that he had managed to avoid her for and she was determined not to let it go on any longer, and her hand dropped down to the keys…if he was wasn’t going to let her in of his own accord then she would just have to let herself in.

“Gate of the Maiden I open thee! Virgo!”

Gajevy + Injured

   Levy was breathing heavily, her entire body a mass of aches and pains as the last of their opponents fell, exhaustion pressing in on her and threatening to send her crashing to her knees, but she didn’t care…in the past such a fight would have been beyond her, and yet now she had easily been able to keep up with Gajeel. In fact…she frowned as it dawned on her that he wasn’t there crowing as he normally would be after a successful job, or rushing across to check that she was okay. Straightening she took in the damage they had caused with their fight, wincing at the thought of the lecture they would face because of this…but those concerns faded when she finally spotted the Dragon-slayer, her feet already moving before she had fully registered the way he was slumped against the wall, or the way his arm was wrapped around his abdomen.

“Gajeel!” She had been so caught up in the rush of the battle, in the fact that she had gotten stronger that she hadn’t noticed him being hurt, guilt leaving a nasty taste in her mouth as she fell to her knees beside him, hands trembling as she pulled his arm away to get a long at the nasty looking gash he had been hiding. “Gajeel…I…” I’m sorry….

“Are you hurt?” She could hear the pain in his voice, but his crimson eyes were clear and focused as he stared at her and for a wild moment she wanted to giggle…here he was bleeding heavily and he was still more concerned with her, swallowing thickly, unable to get her voice to work she settled for shaking her head…barely resisting the urge to scream at him when he sank back against the wall with a relieved expression. “Good…”

BixFreed + Injured

   Freed’s eyes were locked on the infirmary door as they had been for the last half hour, his hands resting on the shivering dolls in his lap although he wasn’t sure if his touch was doing them any good. Still it was better than doing nothing, and it was the only the fact that they needed him that had stopped him from bursting into the other room although Porlyusica would probably have his head if he tried. It was at times like that this that he wished he has healing magic, because as much as he trusted the healer, he hated having his partner out of his sight…hated having to rely on someone else to help him, especially when he had failed to keep him safe in the first time. ‘It’s not your job to protect me…’ He had lost count of the number of times that Bickslow had been forced to tell him that, usually when the Rune mage had been injured because of trying to protect him…and he would always mutter a half-hearted agreement because he knew that was what the older man wanted to hear, but without Bickslow there to remind him of that all he could do was bow his head, guilt weighing on him as the dolls in his lap whimpered. Yes, it is…

Fraxus + Wish

    Laxus sighed as he settled onto the grass in front of Freed’s grave, the months that had passed since his mate’s death allowing him to tidy up the remains of Evergreen’s last bouquet with steady hands before replacing them with the roses he had bought, fingers lingering for a moment on the crimson blooms. Freed had always been the romantic one and had always got adorably flustered on the rare occasions Laxus had bought him flowers, and he closed his eyes, wishing that he had done it more and there was a familiar stinging sensation in his eyes as he reopened them to stare at the grave as he tried to find his voice once more. Slowly, voice soft as though to make sure that only Freed could hear his words he began to talk about everything that had happened since his last visit, the fact that he had become master, how the guild was having to expand the building, that they were going to the Grand Magic Games again…on and on it went because Fairy Tail was never still…and yet he found his voice tapering off, because it wasn’t enough…

“I wish…” He trailed off as he always did, unable to bring put everything that he wished could be different into words. I wish you were here…I wish I had been able to protect you…I wish that you hadn’t loved me so much….

Stingue + Wish

“What did you wish for?” Sting knew that you weren’t meant to ask that after someone had blown out the candles, but he hadn’t been able to hold back the question after seeing the pensive expression on Rogue’s face at the time. He had waited until they were on their own that night, the Shadow mage curling against his chest like a cat before bringing it up, and he knew that he had been right to wait when he felt his mate tense at the question. “Rogue?”

“Nothing…”

“Nothing?” Sting echoed confused, tilting his head so that he could see Rogue’s face and frowning as he realised the expression from earlier had returned.

“I don’t have the right…” Rogue continued softly before he could try and think of something comforting to say, lifting his head to meet Sting’s gaze, the pensive expression giving way to a small smile although it was shadowed by some darker emotion that worried Sting. “I have you…and you stayed despite what I might become, what I could do…how could I ask for more than that?”

NaLu + Wish

“Look Natsu,” Lucy whispered as she pointed at the sky and Natsu obediently followed her gaze just in time to glimpse the shooting star that had caught her attention and he smiled, warm arms tightening around her waist as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“Did you make a wish?” Lucy hummed, shaking her head much to his surprise because she had always made wished before and he blinked when she turned in the circle of his arms, leaning up to kiss him softly before pulling back with a smile. “I already have everything I’ve been wishing for…” Natsu blushed slightly as she stared meaningfully at him, and he was still red when he tried to feign confusion a moment later, his efforts falling apart with a yelp as she hit him lightly in the arm. “Idiot…” Abruptly she went still, staring at him so intently that he shifted under the force of her gaze. “Would you have wished for something?”

“Only for you to stop hitting me…Ouch!”

“Natsu!”

Gajevy + Wish

    Levy’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap as she tried to hide the tremors that were wracking her, although she doubted that she would be fooling anyone with her face marked with tear tracks and her eyes red and sore. It had happened again. Gajeel had thrown himself into the path of an attack to shield her even though she had already been moving to evade it, even though she had grown strong enough to stand at his side as an equal, and she wanted to be mad at him…maybe she would be later when he was recovering, when she wasn’t shut out of the infirmary whilst Wendy and Porlyusica fought to stabilise him. There were fresh tears trickling down her cheeks now and she squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he would survive…that he would soon be back to driving her up the wall, wishing that he had never come to care for her to the point where he was so willing to sacrifice himself for her sake, because as much as she loved him…it destroyed her when this happened, and she would rather know that he was sage somewhere than be sat here with nothing but a prayer and trust in the healers stopping her from falling apart at the seams.

Gratsu + Wish

    Gray lifted his head as he felt Natsu stirring in his lap, blinking away tears and trying and failing to offer his mate a smile, wincing as he saw the brief spark that had reappeared in olive eyes fading once more and he jolted when a chilled hand came up to brush against his cheek.

“I wish…”

“I know,” Gray cut him off, not harshly, but unable to bear the thought of hearing Natsu finish what he was trying to say, especially in the weak, breathy voice that seemed to be all that he could manage at this stage. There was so much for them both to wish for, so many things that could have been done differently …that should have been done differently, and he couldn’t bear to think about that right now, not with Natsu growing colder by the second…his voice and focus fading with each new waking and he tightened his arms around the Dragon-slayer, whispering an apology when he accidently drew a whimper from Natsu, burying his face in messy pink hair to hide his tears. “I know…”

Fraxus + First Kiss

  Laxus sighed with relief as he finally caught sight of the Rune mage, he had been caught by surprise when Freed had suddenly taken off, leaving the Dragon-slayer and the rest of the Raijinshuu staring after him in surprise as the joy and relief of their reunion in the infirmary melted away. He had growled at Ever and Bickslow to stay put, ignoring their concerns for his health as he gave chase…he had only just been drifting towards consciousness when they were talking about him, awareness returning just in time for him to hear how far the Rune mage was willing to go to atone for not protecting him. Laxus had been furious, but it had been tempered by the strange note underlying Freed’s voice…there was more to that declaration, more to his need to protect Laxus them simple friendship…something that they had both been ignoring for too long, and the Dragon-slayer was damned if he was going to let them wait any longer.

“Freed!” Thankfully old instincts held true and Freed turned towards him at once, his conflicted expression making Laxus pause for a brief second and then he was closing the distance between, catching a brief glimpse of widening turquoise eyes before he pressed their lips together. It was soft, more of a promise than a declaration and Laxus smiled when after a moment of stunned surprise, he felt Freed beginning to respond, strong hands coming up to grip his back as though to make sure that he couldn’t disappear.

Stingue + First Kiss

   Rogue froze as it dawned on him what he had just done, crimson eyes widening as he stared into Sting’s eyes and seeing the surprise there and with a soft noise he pulled back. What was I thinking? They had barely managed to survive the Dragon’s attack; they had just learned the limits of the magic that they had always believed to be undefeatable and he was still reeling from the thought that one day he could become that future Rogue…and now he had kissed Sting. He didn’t regret doing it…it was something he had wanted to do for ages, but he regretted the circumstances…the other Dragon-slayer deserved much better than a desperate, confused kiss whilst surrounded by the destruction of their battle and he hung his head. What have I done? He started when gentle fingers grasped his chin, lifting his head until he was forced to look at Sting, blinking at the soft smile that he glimpsed on the blond’s face before Sting was leaning towards him…his thoughts short circuiting a moment later when warm lips pressed against his for a moment, before he was being pulled into a tight hug as Sting let out a choked laugh.

“It’s about time…”

NaLu + First Kiss

   It wasn’t fair of him and Natsu knew that, hating himself for it even as he forced himself to walk away without looking back, Lucy’s anguished cries echoing in his ears. He could still feel her lips against his, still smell her light floral perfume against his skin, tainted by the scent of her blood after all the fighting…still feel her hands gripping his back as she tried to stop him leaving. It had been their first kiss, and it had been everything he had imagined…and nothing like it should have been, but there had been no way that he could leave her behind to face Zeref without at least making sure that she knew how he felt. He knew that it was selfish, to give her something that she might never get the chance to experience again…that she probably would never get to experience, because he couldn’t see anyway for him to survive the upcoming battle…and he closed his eyes. I’m sorry Lucy…It was selfish, but as much as he hated himself for it, it was that memory that was giving him the strength to keep moving forward …because she had responded, she had shown that she felt the same and that was something he wanted to protect at all costs.

Gajevy + First Kiss

   Levy was sobbing now, her anger gone completely as she stared down at the Dragon-slayer pinned beneath her, their position allowing her to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest…he was alive, he was really alive…her heart felt like someone had shoved it back into her chest, not quite fitting back into place…not sure how to handle the emotions churning inside her.

“You…”

“Levy,” his voice was softer than she had ever heard it, the crimson eyes fixated on her face as though he had never seen her before and then he was leaning up, hands moving to stop her from falling over. His hands were warm against her skin and she gasped, stilling as she felt his breath tickling her lips before he closed the last of the distance between them, her breath catching as he kissed her gently. It was slow, tender, nothing like what she had expected their first kiss to be, but she leant into it, kissing him back, soaking up the feelings he was showing her, tears trickling down her cheeks as she let him pull her closer. They were both pink-cheeked and slightly breathless when they pulled away, but Gajeel met her gaze evenly, refusing to look away as he rested their foreheads together. “I’m back.” I love you…

“Welcome back…” I love you too…

Gruvia + First Kiss

   Gray knew that he should be more concerned about the fact that they had just won, and about the cost they had been forced to pay for that victory, but everything was numb…distant…apart from one thing, and ignoring the pain from his injuries he staggered forward, dark eyes desperately searching for the one person he needed to see right now. He found her sitting with Lucy and Erza…she was covered in cuts and bruises, clearly needing their support to sit upright and there were shadows in her eyes that had not been there before…and yet she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He’d had the words all ready to say to her now that the was over, ready to give her the answer he had promised her, but with her in sight he found his voice catching on the lump that had risen in his throat and instead he stumbled forward, relieved when she rose to meet him the moment she spotted him. He didn’t give her chance to ask what was going on, leaning down and kissing her fiercely, trying to pour everything into the kiss that he had been trying to say…that he loved her, that he was sorry for making her wait so long and a promise that he was hers from now on…and he was alarmed to see tears on her cheeks when they pulled away, jolting when she reached up to brush her fingers against his cheek.

“I love you too…”

Smoulder Chapter 19

Summary: In which there is a reprieve from the angst, if only for freakouts and shenanigans instead! Warning: Brief mention of blood, nothing major or too descriptive.

Read on AO3 / FF.Net

Smoulder Chapter 19

Marinette didn’t go home.

She ran.

She ran, she leapt, she swung through the streets. Away, away, away. Though she knew Paris was safe, she pretended that the city needed her, that she was swinging towards an akuma. The thought of being alone in her house, with the knowledge of what she’d just seen, was too much to stand.

Try as she might, Ladybug could not outrun her memories. Old and new ones were dotted around the city, like markers on a treasure map. A bench where they’d laughed here, a bridge where they’d fought an akuma there. A lamp-post, a rooftop, a tree lined street. It was everywhere. He was everywhere. They were everywhere. It was impossible to escape.

Like the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, reminding her of the time her and Chat snuck into the fancy white-and-gold Mc Donald’s as a joke. At first, Chat had been worried about eating the junk food, saying he wasn’t allowed it at home, but he’d come around when the cashiers gave them food for free.

Of course he wasn’t allowed junk food dummy! HE’S A MODEL! He’s THE model! THE MODEL YOU HAD PLASTERED ON YOUR WALLS WHEN YOU WERE FIFTEEN.

Tossing that thought to the ground, Ladybug continued on her midnight race around the city. It led her past the Trocadero and the gardens beyond. The place had once been hers and hers alone, but now it was theirs. A liminal space where they were only just something to each other, and yet everything at the same time. Marinette and Chat. Ladybug and Adrien. Separate. Yearning. Pining. Blind. Oblivious.

Ladybug ended her mad dash by swinging up to the biggest marker on the treasure map of their lives. The sight of their first true kiss.

Ladybug climbed. She climbed without thought. She climbed with the ferocity and fierceness of someone trying to leave something behind. Instinct and panic guided her. The need for comfort merged with the need to be away, to hide out of sight, to remain unseen and untouched by all.

When she was thoroughly entrenched inside the mesh of steel beams and wire cages, Ladybug finally, finally came to a rest. Her back slammed against a beam and she sank down, slowly, her hair tangling itself, her face crumpling. When she reached the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees and she buried her face in them, her world becoming dark.

She needed to breathe.

She couldn’t breathe.

She was lost.

She was found.

She knew everything.

She understood nothing.

There could be no denying what she saw, what she’d heard. Adrien had called the little black cat-like creature “Plagg”. Plagg was Chat Noir’s Kwami. She’d seen Plagg in Adrien’s room, and Plagg had seen her. Although she couldn’t make out their conversation, she’d noticed enough of their mannerisms to know the pair were familiar with each other. It couldn’t be that Plagg had randomly shown up in Chat’s house which, admittedly, was one of her initial denials- just before the internal screaming had begun.

Ladybug knew a partnership when she saw one. That was a partnership. Plagg was Adrien’s Kwami.

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste, Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir, and Marinette was Going. To. DIE.

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Perception (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Kylo Ren’s duties to the First Order didn’t leave him with very much time for himself. There are some nights where he would not have any sleep at all, as was the case for most days of the week. But any time he had, he enjoys spending with you. The knight entered his quarters, and as he waited for your arrival he removed his helmet and his cloak, setting them to the side. He then removed his black tunic and gloves, leaving him in just his black long sleeved pleated thermal and trousers. He never cared about his appearance, as he was usually obscured by his mask anyway, but he took pains to look decent around you. As he waited, he combed his fingers through his raven hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. Ren turned to the door as he hears you coming in.

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#42: Fight

Niall:“Why am I even dating you then!?” he screamed, his whole face bright red,  muscles flexed and visible under the fabric of white shirt. His words hurt - heavy and sharp like that, reminding you of knives going through your already broken heart. A single tear fell from the each eye meeting at the same spot on your chin, your back pressed the wall following it all the way down until you finally met the floor, teary eyes never leaving him. Suddenly, all of his rage was washed out of his face making it brighter, like nothing had happened, sorrow soon filling his blue eyes. “I didn’t mean that! I’m sorry”, he instantly threw his body next to yours wrapping both of his hands tightly around you. “So, so, sorry.”

Zayn:“Will you shut the fuck up?!” he screamed, eyes squeezed and filled with rage, a single vein occupying a pot on his neck, fists tightened. You had nothing more to say - you couldn’t; you were too scared because it was your first time seeing him mad like that, and to be honest, he was frightening. A single tear rolled down your face, his once dark face softening, once cold eyes now filled with love and guilt at the same time, two arms instantly spreading and locking around you letting you sob in his chest. “I didn’t meant it. I swear.”

Louis:With him standing in front of you, you couldn’t take it anymore, not like that,a ll you wanted to do was scream and break, like the whole room tightened around you not allowing you to breathe. And he seemed mad too; his eyes squeezed, vein visible on his forehead, two arms crossed on his chest. The same arms released themselves from his chest finding their way and wrapping around your body pulling you closer in a big hug, his eyes lightly smiled just the way his lips did, your face turning confused look. He kissed you washing away anger left on your face. ”I like you better when you smile.”

Liam:Insecure footsteps echoed through empty house as Liam found his way to a girl sitting on the couch, her head resting in her hands, soft sobs leaving her mouth. He grabbed his chest trying to stop heartache creating in it, his legs froze, upper lip trembled a bit not allowing him to say anything when he finally saw what he caused. After few more seconds he finally found some strength to approach you wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight like that would make you forget all he said in that fight. ”Baby I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

Harry:“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad”, he amenably whispered insecurely wrapping both of his hands around you, but your eyes still watching the ground. He was sad too, it hurt him to see trails of something that used to be tears on your cheeks, but something that hurt him even more was the fact that he was the one who caused them. He has always considered himself as one who needs to protect you from things like he caused right now. An arm forces its way around your waist, but still not strong enough to make you accept his presence. ”It’s not always easy to love someone", he sighs unsure in the words leaving his lips “Love always has it’s ups and downs and it’s not always everything easy in love. But this is the real love and I love you. Forgive me?”

Kisses to silence the tears
Heavy sobs and they both know
They’re no good

He wipes her eyes but
They still look at him the same
Once filled with rage, she swears

She’ll call the cops this time
But the silence in her longs for him
So she’ll let him do it again

let him comfort her
And back in where he can
break her

“Man up” he tells her
And I feel her breaking in the plaster
“Don’t feel bad for yourself”
And I feel her bury beneath my feet

The walls are echoing
in the darkest part of the night
I hear her cry
I hear her break

—  Sandra Hanna
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Inspired by the drawing, i think by Veronica (on my phone so i cant check, my apologies) a little drabble of what I’d like to see in episode 9.

The blood drips like red tears from the tip of her shaking knife. She stands poised on the balls of her feet looking from left to right and back again. The street is littered with the dead, both walker and not. In places you can no longer see the grey asphalt, just a river of blood black and red pooling around the still bodies.

Four lie at her feet splayed across each other and the bottom step outside of Rick’s house. The arms of one still reaching towards her boots in death. They are dead. Dead again. They are not moving. She glances down at them again for one last check to reassure herself, before resuming her vigil around her.

There are very few left now, she can see that. A couple of stragglers are being disposed of by Rosita down towards the wall, or what was left of the wall. People are stumbling from their homes, through the mess, checking for survivors both to save or despatch.

She should move, and yet somehow she can’t. She feels frozen, waiting for the next danger to come round the corner. Alert. Ready. Her heart is pounding out her ears and she’s panting like a dog. Sweat and blood trickle down her face and she has no interest in wiping at either. It’s a stance that echoes the one she held against Morgan, against the Wolf. It seems like only minutes ago. Yet it seems like she hasn’t moved from this position for hours, days. She flexes and stays alert.

Rounding the back of the houses with Aaron, Daryl helps put down a handful gathering round his garage door. Daryl nods him to go once they are down. Go find Eric, his nod says. Aaron nods silently in return and slips inside his garage, gun drawn.

He wonders what Aaron will find inside. He didn’t cross paths with Eric in the fight but with so many walkers, that didn’t mean anything. He silently prays that at this very moment they are embracing each other in joy. The way Rosita had greeted Abe, and the way he had seen Glenn and Maggie grab for each other when Glenn pulled her down from the look-out platform into his arms.

He clenched his teeth at the feelings that rose in him then. Rosita had told him what happened with Morgan, with the Wolves. It was a brief rushed conversation as soon as Rosita had finished kissing Abe hello. All Daryl had done was say her name. “Carol?” And she’d rushed out as much of the story as she could before his feet drove him to find her.

He hadn’t got far, blocked by the herd pushing in every direction. But he’d seen her; saw a flash of her silver hair as she ran down the street and out of sight. She was alone then. He had wanted to call for her but knew the sound likely wouldn’t reach her, and even if it did the distraction may cost her life. She was alive, that would have to suffice to give him the strength to slice through the herd.

He didn’t know where she was now, but he would find her. As he rounded the back of Jessie’s house he saw Tara looking through the debris for something. She looked up as his shadow passed the door and gave him a salute.

There were fewer bodies round he back, most had kept to the main street wandering in a deadly lap of the settlement. When he came to the back of their house, however, he saw the door was destroyed. Pushed off its hinges, it was fractured in places by burglars of a different kind.

He steps inside lightly and cautiously. The destruction is evident here too. Blood trails the walls and items are strewn across the floor amongst toppled stools and tables. He glances around the ground floor and finding it empty, carefully climbs the stairs. Here things are as they were. Judith’s cot empty but for a tattered bunny toy, Michonne’s room immaculate and peaceful, Carl and Rick’s messy but unharmed. They didn’t get this far. Still, he opens the door of each room, each bathroom, each closet and checks. No more surprises.

When he finds no residents or intruders he returns to the living room. The kitchen counter is covered in blood, and there are knives flung across the top. He swallows and tries not to wonder whose blood it is. A gust of wind flutters the curtain and he jumps at the movement, but there is nothing bar the shattered glass and the billowing material.

That’s when he sees her. As the curtain rises and falls it reveals her standing like a statue on the stairs.

He rushes forward onto the porch, and this time her name forms on his lips.

“Carol?”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Fear clutches his heart. What if it’s too late? What if it’s no longer her?

The wind is ruffling her white shirt that is blood-stained but not from any obvious injury.

“Carol?” He tries again and approaches from behind, slowly. This time he sees something, a twitch, a chill.

By now he’s at the top of steps, and this time he speaks softly.

“Carol…” He’s close enough now, if she had been turned his scent would be in her blood and she’d be reaching for him. But still she stands, with her knife in the air, ready to fight, walkers lying at her feet as though in worship.

He treads down the steps and puts a hand on her shoulder. She still doesn’t react. He can feel her trembling, feel the cold sweat soaking through her clothes and see it running down her neck. Her knife hand trembles more vigorously but doesn’t lower.

“Carol,” he repeats gently. “It’s over.”

She turns this time, but only her head. Her eyes meet his and he baulks at what he sees in them. Terror, rage, and grief in a tsunami of emotions. When she recognises him, surprise and disbelief is added to the maelstrom.

“It’s over,” he says again reassuringly into her eyes, and reaches past her to pull her knife arm down to her side.

As it lowers, it is as though a spring has broken and her solid stance collapses as she folds almost in two in front of him. He wraps his arms round her and pulls her down onto the steps in front of him. Her back flush against his chest, he traps her arms in his and her knife falls to the ground as she silently sobs.

His mind flashes back to the same position they held that day Sophia walked out of the barn. They have come so far since then and lost so much more, but they still have this. He can still offer her this, and more.

On that day his move was subconscious, his arm holding her back then holding her still as she raged only to be tossed aside angrily moments later as she broke free of his embrace. Not this time.

Now she leans back against him, readjusts her arms to place her hands on top of his, and holds him as he holds her.

He rocks them gently back and forth and places kisses on her hair and shoulder, the blood and sweat from her clothes mingling with his own.

She needed medical care, likely still concussed, but right now she needed this more. And right now, so did he.

anonymous asked:

How do their friends find out?

ho ho ho oh boy. well, lexa doesn’t have many friends. lincoln’s her sparring partner, but he’s octavia’s bf before he is lexa’s friend. other than that, lexa is kind of… alone? clarke’s the closest thing to a friend she’s had in a long time. and anya - she’s her ex step sister turned actual sister, not by blood but by choice; and she figures everything out pretty quickly, despite clexa denying everything, breaths quickened and eyes wide with fear. anya’s chill, tho. she promises not to tell anyone (if clarke treats lexa right, of course; but the girl has stardust in her eyes when she looks at lexa, and anya can’t help but think that the chipmunk made the right choice this time. this one, as annoyingly loud as she is at times; she’ll stick around. so anya doesn’t tell anyone.)

raven kinda? doesn’t care? and doesn’t think it’s weird, like at all? cause those two met in a time of raging hormones and first heartbreaks and they aren’t related so what’s the harm in that? “tell that to our parents,” clarke mutters darkly, and raven sighs and passes the joint back to her. she wants to help clarke, she does, but she has no idea how. lexa’s away at college since she’s a year older than them, and clarke is miserable and high and alternating between sobbing about how much she loves her step sister in a huge gay way and singing praises to lexa’s bedroom abilities, which is kinda way more than raven bargained for, but at the same time not at all surprising. she’s seen the way step siblings looked at each other; she didn’t want to assume anything, but she already kinda knew and made peace with the fact that clarke has the hots for her bitchy sister (but she’s not actually her sister, clarke’s voice rings incessantly in her head). the love part is a bit of a surprise; but clarke’s eyes are red-rimmed and it’s not the weed, and she’s trembling while raven is trying to think of a way to lose all of her clothes cause it’s so fucking hot tonight. she’s never seen clarke like this; as much as it hurts her seeing her friend so heartbroken, she’s also kinda happy clarke found someone to be so crazy in love with.

others? others find out when lexa and clarke break the news to them, newly moved in and high on almost adulthood and college life. everyone kinda shrugs tho. it’s not that shocking, really; and those two haven’t been as discreet as they thought they were.

Another Story for the Lovelies who Requested it

Okay, so. What I’m about to tell you guys is very personal. It’s something that I don’t tell many people, but I’m entrusting you guys with it.

I was raised by my single mom, never knowing my biological father and never having a proper dad-figure. It was always just my mom and I, together against the world.

In February of 2013, she passed away very unexpectedly. (We’d known she had health problems, but we didn’t know they were actively life-threatening.) In that moment, it felt as if I had lost my entire universe, like everything I had just got ripped away from me in this violent pang of reality. Needless to say, depression and anxiety overtook me. I was only 13 years old at the time.

After this incident, I moved in with my aunt, uncle, and cousin (who was my age, thank God; I was in need of a friend). Things were rough for a little while, as my aunt and I bumped heads a lot. After some time, though, everything calmed down and we all got along pretty well.

Around December of 2014, however, my depression began to return. At the same time, my aunt was getting overly-stressed because my uncle wouldn’t stop gambling and draining our bank account. One night, she was really upset and in a bad mood. I was trying to help her wash our cats that night, but no matter what I did, I just kept making her angrier. In a blind fit of rage, she called me worthless.

I was lying awake for hours in my bed that night, trying to stay as quiet as I could with my sobbing because I didn’t want her to know I was crying and having a breakdown. My phone and tablet were both shut off because I didn’t want to talk to anyone; in that moment, I just felt like crawling into a box and never coming out.

It was then that I remembered. I remembered all those videos and Twitter posts that inspired me to be the dedicated Markiplite that I am. I remembered all those times in which Mark said to me, “I believe in you.” I imagined him sitting there at the edge of my bed, reminding me that I was not worthless, and that I mattered. I pictured him there, telling me to believe in myself because I could do anything as long as I believed that I could.

And those thoughts and memories are the very things that made me stop crying.. and start smiling.