regrets this could not be in full color

I hope I don’t regret choosing these hair and uniform colors in a few weeks.

[See in Full Resolution to appreciate the watercolor effect.]

light in the dark // stiles stilinski pt. 2

Summary: Y/N makes a deal with the nogitsune to save Stiles

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: no, mature language & topics throughout 


He didn’t know how long he had been sitting in the lobby, but he knew it must have been awhile. Counting the soft ticks from the clock on the other side of the room was his only way of telling how much time had actually passed.

Despite Melissa practically forcing him to eat something when Scott had bought him to the hospital earlier that morning, he hadn’t eaten all day. His stomach grumbled but he ignored it as his eyes wandered around the room.

Lydia sat across from him, whispering things to Kira every now and then. Scott sat next to him, bouncing his knee and staring at his thumbs. He couldn’t help but feel like this was his fault. He lead the nogistune right to her and because of him, she had been in a coma for the past 10 hours completely unconscious. 

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Anders hastily made his way to the Hanged Man, slamming the door to Varric’s room open. He didn’t run all the way from Dark Town because Hawke told him Fenris needed some healing, no. He ran until he was out of breath because he needed to see Fenris’ “child” with his own two eyes.

Fenris shot Anders a hateful glare as he entered the room. He cradled the small, sleeping boy closer to his chest, but Anders could still make out his features. There was no other way to say it: the child looked like a younger version of Fenris if Fenris had his dark, auburn hair. From his petulant frown as he slept to his furrowed brows, he was an exact replica of Fenris.

Anders refused to believe Hawke when he told him they ran into a little accident back in the Emporium, but this was too much.

“How do we know that is isn’t a demon?” Aveline spoke up. “You say he came from the mirror yes?”

“You think we didn’t think of that?” Hawke sank bonelessly down into an unoccupied chair. “Merrill tested him already. Not a demon. Instead, we found out-”

“He’s Fenris’ son!” Isabela burst out laughing. “The little tyke was absolutely terrified, shaking like a leaf, but then took one look at Fenris and yelled out, ‘Papa!’. Ran right to him and held out his arms to be picked up. I almost shat myself.” The pirate leaned over the table, a leering grin painted across her face. “So, who’s the lucky lady that you shagged and popped a kid out with?”

“Are you saying he’s from the future?” Aveline raised a skeptical brow. “That’s not possible. Even magic has its’ limits.”

“According to Xenon, that mirror connects to other location and worlds,” Hawke thumped her head against the table, sighing. “So it’s entirely possible the kid is from the future, we don’t know. And until we figure it out, guess we’re stuck with him.” She lifted her head and gave Fenris an apologetic smile. “I know he called you papa, but if you like, I can take him. I’m sure Orana-”

“No,” Fenris shifted the child away from Hawke as if afraid she’d rip him right out of his arms. “No need. I…I’ll like to care for him for the time being. At least until we can find a way to send him back home.”

Anders snorted, earning another heated glare from Fenris. The mage held his hands up in surrender, but rolled his eyes nonetheless. “Hey, none of my business if you want to house a kid in a mansion filled with mold and corpses. Just make sure not to come to me when he starts hacking up a lung or develops a fever. What you do with your kid is your problem.” Seeing Fenris being domestic and try at being a father, Anders couldn’t but take a jab. “Maker’s breath, if he is your future child, I want to see the face of the mother. Was this a night of regret or does she have a preference for untamed beasts?”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to speak abomination. I’m sure you know all about nights of regrets.”

Before Anders could retort, the child’s eyes blinked open. Confused, golden eyes took in his surroundings. He saw Fenris and smiled, happy that his papa was still with him. When his eyes settled on Anders, however, his calm demeanor gave way to excitement. “Mama!” he yelled, wiggling his way out of Fenris’ lap, holding his arms out for Anders. “Mama, mama, mama!”

Anders stumbled back as the child tackle-hugged his legs. When he looked down, his saw his own honey-colored eyes look back up at him, full of adoration and love. His heart cracked. Anders found out in that moment, it was possible to fall in love at first sight at something else other than a cat.

“…You do know if the kid called you ‘mama’ and Fenris ‘papa’,” Varric said, “It means you two are the parents. When should I arrange the wedding?”

A/n: Tbh, I just want this out of my system so I wrote the snippet. If this ever does turn full length, the story won’t jump this fast. I just wanted to get to the point ASAP.

I Would Never Call It Love 2

Since I just saw pictures of Calum and Nia kissing I’m going to make a really sad blurb right now to go with my dark soul and tears. Also partly inspired by nerdymuke on tumblr and their “through the years” story, so go check them out. Ok, enjoy.

part 1

(not my gif)

One month later…

Calum was enjoying the first month of his world tour with his best friends. He also enjoyed the new found time with his front band, which mostly consisted of girls. The drummer, with her colorful hair, big lips, and puppy eyes, really caught his attention. His skin would get bumpy at the touch of her hand on his, his arms neatly wrapped around her thin waist so easily, his smile came naturally as a result of her presence and laughter. She could feel the growing tension as well, loving every moment she got to spend with this golden boy.

Y/N, on the other hand, was living a life of full regret. She had only gone out once since her and Calum’s last exchange, which resulted in her crying in the vodka infused punch bowl to random people who passed about her sadness. She was eventually kicked out onto the cold streets, and slept on a nearby park bench that night with no recollection of anything that night. She had skipped classes because she was physically too ill to attend, not because she had a cold or flu, but because her crying kept her up all night. She would never get any sleep, and couldn’t breathe out of her nose or talk normally because her throat was scratched from the screaming that would accompany her cries. Thank God she lived alone. She also missed many days of work because of this as well, but never more than she missed school. She still had to put food on her table.

The urge to call him, the urge to run over to his place and bang on the door to be let in, knowing full well he wasn’t home, was beginning to break her down. She never knew pain could hurt this bad when the person who you’re hurting over was never really yours. I mean, who would know? She had deleted all the pictures, texts, etc. the night they last encountered each other so there was nothing to help mend her heart, she absolutely had nothing of his or anything that remotely reminded her of him. She forgot his signature scent, the curves in his biceps, his squishy cheeks, his touseled dark curls, his errupting laughter. And all of it, she missed deeply.

The boys felt uneasy once they saw Calum falling for Nia so quickly after what last happened with Y/N. Of course, they never knew of what happened behind closed doors, but they knew something was going on. They weren’t just friends that would ‘go out for coffee’ or ‘go out for brunch’ every week, or so Calum would say, for 6 hours at a time. Ashton knew better than anyone, and he saw texts that proved his thoughts right. He wondered why Calum was so broken once the plane had annouced their departure, tears instantly slipped from his eyes while looking down at a phone with no notifications. And once he saw Calum’s eyes fall on Nia with such interest, he knew it was about Y/N.

Soon, the boys would be stopping at their next show which was in Chicago. For hours Ashton contemplated contacting Y/N via Twitter since he followed her, asking her if she’d like to come to the show. He would pay for her ticket, hotel, and backstage pass so she could see Calum again after a little over a month, and spark whatever they had that left his poor Cal in tears. Ash knew he would have to be sneaky though, making sure Calum wouldn’t take his phone or overhear conversations with her. But in the end, he sent her a message.

Her face lit up like a christmas tree in the dead of night. Her heart raced to a million beats, and her head pounded every corner of her brain. She couldn’t believe it. The offer, the reasoning behind it, everything. At first, she absolutely declined. Telling Ashton, “No. Absolutely not. I haven’t nothing to say to him, and want nothing to do with him. Sorry, but thanks for the offer.” Then Ashton laid down the heavy card. “But he cried over you. For the first few days he sat by himself being quiet and looking at his phone for some kind of message from you. I’ve always been suspicious of you two, and now I know what’s been going on.” If that didn’t make her want to jump out of her apartment window, then she didn’t know what would. Eventually she gave in upon hearing about Calum’s distress. Maybe they had both been going through the same motions, but were both too incredibly stubborn to admit it. I mean, it took so long for Calum to even come clean about his feelings, so she knew it would take him longer to tell her about what he’s been going through now. Or so she thought.

With sunglasses on her face a luggage on her hand, she drove in a taxi to the hotel Ashton rented a room for her in. Her hands began to get clammy, realizing she was in the same vicinity as Calum once again, and she could see him anytime before her big concert reveal. Ashton messaged her once she was settled in the room, telling her to be ready by 4 so her uber that he payed and sent for her, can pick her up and take her to the venue for soundcheck where he’d give her the concert ticket, backstage pass, and of course a hug for goodluck.

Once she was dressed in a skin tight black long sleeve dress with matching thigh high boots, she was picked up right on time by her friendly uber. She exited the car only to be pulled by a tall muscular man with a shirt that read ‘security’ on it, and pushed inside the venue. Ashton greeted her by catching her before she could fall due to the security’s hard push.

“Whoa there,” she laughed while catching her, “sorry about that. Security is pretty solid for us.” He lifted her up to her knees, as she brushed off her dress and smiled shyly at him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, properly at least.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to retreive what she came to meet him for.

“You as well.” He was about to hand her the ticket and pass, but she put her hand on top of his to signify to stop before he could fully put it in her hands.

“I knew Calum the best, but I just want you to know that I actually do really enjoy your band and music. All of you are so talented, and in no way was I befriending Calum for fame or anything.” Ashton gave her a confused look, and she slightly chuckled. “I know you guys have probably had people in your life come in and out because all they wanted was 15 minutes of fame with you guys. But that’s why I kept myself out of the spot light, and it wasn’t just Calum’s decision. I didn’t want any of you seeing me like that because I genuinely liked you guys.” He smiled brightly at her, molding her hand to fit around the contents in his hand.

“We have our fair share of that with the guys’ girlfriends on this tour.” Y/N laughed loudly. A real laugh, one she didn’t know she could still make after the month of complete darkness she was in not too long ago. “Now, go sit in the back of soundcheck, make sure to keep your head down so that way when you go back stage Calum is truly surprised, and then enjoy the concert then go to the right hand of the front of the stage so the security can take you to come see us.” She nodded, giving him the big comforting hug they both needed.

She did as Ashton said, and sat in the very last row of soundcheck, on the side Calum wasn’t sitting in front of. She saw him emerge from backstage in his navy tank, black jeans and messy hair. A small gasp left her mouth before she quickly put a hand over it. He looked better than he did when he left, if that was even possible in a months time. But she knew she had to keep her composure, so she sat with her hair slightly in her face, but looking up enough to witness his beauty.

A fan 2 rows in front of you asked a question that got your head to shoot all the way up, not caring if he saw you or not, because the answer to this question was vital.

“Do you miss anyone that isn’t with you on tour now? I mean obviously your family but anyone else?” Calum let out a sigh, and waiting a rather long time before he answered, truthfully.

“Yeah of course I miss my family. My mum, dad, sister, even a few of my cousins. But other than that, no. I don’t miss anyone.“ Y/N looked over at Ashton who saw her from his periferal, and he looked scared. He gulped, causing his Adams apple to bob up and down, and his jawline sharpened. Her fingers crept inward, and were making sharp indents on her palms. Her breathe hitched, and without thinking, her legs straightened, making everyone, even the boys, look at her, and in a flash her back was facing them and began walking out.

“Y/N stop, don’t leave.” She heard over the speakers, freezing in her tracks with her back still facing them. Her mouth fell slightly open, with puffs of air escaping them. She could feel herself shaking, tears daring to pour out of her eyes. She looked back to find Calum standing up quickly, making his mic fall to the floor. She couldn’t look at him for more than a second before she was whisked away by another tall muscular guy wearing a shirt that said ‘security’…

The boys had finished their soundcheck about 20 minutes after the whole incident. Y/N had been sitting on the small couch they were given backstage, and soon she saw Ashton cut through the dark curtain seperating the stage from backstage, and scolded her with dark eyes. He couldn’t even get a word in before Calum practically tore the curtain from the ceiling as she stomped toward me. He grabbed my arm and brought me to my feet before taking me to a room filled with the bands clothes, instruments, and hair products. It was big and spacious, which meant there was tons of room for yelling.

Calum slammed the door before speaking. “What the hell is your problem?” He screamed at her, getting in her face, and in an instant she pushed his broad shoulders away from her, walking on the other side of the couch inside the room so she could have a barrier.

“What the hell is my problem? You’re the one bruising my arm, slamming doors, and screaming in my face! I thought you’d be happy to see me!”

“No Y/N, I’m not! Once I’m happy and finally starting to get over you, you decide to come back and be here! Well news flash Y/N I don’t want you here, at all!”

“Well I didn’t want to come here either alright. Ashton contacted me saying how sad you’ve been because of what happened between us because Calum, he knows you better than anybody, and he knows what’s been going on between us. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve been a mess without you. So I thought coming here would help me realize why I felt so low but I knew the reason the whole time.” By now, Y/N was crying. Tears hit the couch, and her head hung low. Calum crossed his arms with tension, waiting for her answer.

“I’m in love with you too, Calum. I don’t know why it took me so long or why I never said it, but I mean it now. I’m in love with everything about you, everything I’ve gotten to know about you, every flaw and every perfection of you.”

“Well I’m not in love with you, so leave.” He said defensively. She choked back on her tears, looking up at him to find him much closer in front of her than before, his eyes baring into her own. All she saw was black, no feeling, no sympathy for her travels to come and tell him this.


“I told you. I’m over you. And I mean it. I actually have someone else right now in my life that has, in a way….replaced you. She’s the drummer of our front band, and she makes me feel more loved than you ever made me feel.” Her hand caught up to her mouth to avoid loud screams from coming out like the ones she experienced in the silence of 2 AM, and Calum still felt no sympathy.

“Calum c’mon! We’re about to go on stage!” You heard a girl’s voice errupt from behind the dressing room door, and in a giggly voice as well. Knowing fully well of who it was, Y/N grabbed at her hair by her temples before pacing the inside of the room.

“I’ll be out in a minute babe!” He yelled before reaching for the door knob.

“Calum no wait please-“ Y/N ran toward him and pulled his hand into hers before he could open the door. As if he knew the affect he now had on her, he left his hand in hers for a few seconds, before roughly pulled it back with a tense look staring down at her.

“I’m sorry you made the trip all the way out here, only to be disappointed.” He opened the door and stepped halfway out before speaking again. “At least now, you know what it feels like.”

With another slam to the door, Y/N huffed out the last bit of air she could muster from her lungs, as she felt like Calum was choking her and she couldn’t breathe at all. Now she was the one left in a dimly lit room. Oh boy, she caught feelings and she knew the feelings she felt for Calum would be just that, feelings.

Higher (pt 4)

Originally posted by lawlliets

Member: Exo Suho/Junmyeon

Type: Fluff/Angst/Slight Smut/Future Smut

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

You had been sitting on the same couch for what seemed like years. The place was a mess; the assistants were pale from Junmyeon’s orders, there were dresses strewn everywhere from his constant rejections, and he himself was rubbing his temples, groaning at the sight of another seemingly imperfect dress. 

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Five and One: Silent Burden

(Inspired by @paperjam-bipper and @inkedinserendipity )

It’s Rangi who finds him, sitting on the mountainous entrance to Lalotai, absently tracing the patterns carved in his fishhook, eyes distant. His free hand taps on the stony ground, keeping the beat to some song only he knows.

“Maui?” the creator god asks, settling beside him, his robes shifting with the movement of some self-contained wind. “Maui, keikikāne, what troubles you?”

The demigod takes a deep breath, his hands going still. The tattoo on his back, sprawled across his shoulders in blue-black ink, weighs heavily, like the sky upon the backs of men. Looking downward, he’s sees the ocean far below, blue and bright, crashing onto the shore before drawing back with a scrape of rock. As a hawk, he would be able to focus on the individual grains of sand, but right now he’s just a man. Not even a man, a boy. A boy with curly hair that only just starts to hide the mark of his abandonment, spread across shoulders that will someday be broad and muscular, but for the moment are still weak and soft with youth. Maui, trickster, demigod of the wind and sea, and still just a boy cast out and, for the most part, unwanted.

“Nothing, makuakāne” Maui lies.

Maui’s arms and chest are covered in burns by the time the humans below are content with the speed the sun moves, his hair smoldering and his eyes watering from the heat and pain and smoke. He gags on a breath that tastes of burning skin and clamps his teeth down on the urge to be sick.

He lets his hook fall into the dirt and doubles over coughing, chest heaving, shoulders trembling, what little breath he can manage coming in gasps. The humans explode into cheers, and Maui wipes his streaming eyes and folds the hand that isn’t clutching his chest into the thumbs up. He can’t speak past the smoke in his lungs, past the rattling wheeze that is his breath, but he must pretend for the humans that he is not weak.

He can’t remember how old he is.

It’s his own fault, really. He stopped keeping count around two hundred, and he knows from the way the world has grown around him that it’s been awhile since then. The years had passed quickly, even as each day dragged on, intolerable, aching. He doesn’t even have a guess as to how many years have passed in his lifetime.

It’s never been something to celebrate before. The day he was born, the day he was thrown into the sea, abandoned, proved to be worthless and unwanted.

He’s on some island, faceless, nameless humans singing his praises, sitting in the shade, sharing a piece of breadfruit with a couple of songbirds, when the realization of his own timelessness and the helpless empty that lives in his head comes crashing down.

He starts laughing as an excuse for the tears in his eyes.

Maui pretends, a pattern of thought and action that has become as natural to him as breathing, as shapeshifting, as singing his own praises, as tying his hair back when he fights, as casting illusions. It’s as easy as the most basic movements, a facade too ingrained in him to be pushed aside completely, if at all.

He drags himself out of Lalotai pretending he feels victorious, pretending the tattoo on his shoulder is a badge of honor and not a scar, a mark of failure, pretending to be happy with the monster blood covering his hook and hands.

He pretends that the gasping hitch in his breath is because his ribs broke under Tamatoa’s claws, that it’s not the echoes of words forcing sobs from between his clenched teeth. Pretends that he’s hunched over out of pain, not because the grief wrapped around his heart is too much to let him stand. Pretends he’s wiping sweat and blood from his eyes and not tears. Pretends he’s fleeing to recover and not to mourn.

The humans, as always, believe him. Cheer as he lifts the severed crab leg and trust that his gritted teeth are a smile.

Even from the highest point on the island, all he can see is blue. The ocean surrounds him, like it does when he’s sailing, but he’s not out wayfinding, he’s imprisoned. He keeps his gaze forward, staring out at the sea, so that he doesn’t have to look at the island below him, nothing but grey-black rock and cream-colored sand, images of his hook carved into the stones with tally marks.

He’s forgotten what he’s tallying; days months years breakdowns grains of sand nightmares regrets. There are two full hook shapes and half of another, meticulously carved, a reminder of why he doesn’t fling himself into the sea, of what he was, and could be again.

Maui leaps off the rock with a howling, wordless mockery of his warcry, not looking down, and a jagged stone tears an ugly gash across his shoulder when he crashes into the beach. The only things that keep the disgustingly childish urge to break down from the agony and shame of it are habit and the itch on his chest (his little tattoo’s seemingly perpetual concern has skyrocketed into terror, and he’s dealing with more than enough without a miniature version of himself trying to get his attention.)

He lies there in the sand and grits his teeth until his jaw aches, and waits for the sky to stop spinning before he sits up and wipes at his face (not specifically his eyes, he convinces himself.)

Crawling on hands and knees into the water, Maui stares at his reflection for a moment, panting. Small eyes, reddened, ringed by shadows. A half-healed scar across his cheek. Mouth twisted with pain. Hair matted with sand and salt.

He kneels there and ignores the itch of his inked doppelganger’s worry, ignores the ripples breaking his reflection, ignores the pain pulsing in his back, ignores the ragged hitch in his breath, and doesn’t move for a long time.

The first time Maui sees Moana after Te Fiti, he is only passing by, flying in hawk form over the fleet of boats commanded by the Wayfinders of Montuni, led by Moana, and she smiles and waves, and he hopes that when their eyes met, she understands his silent promise to return.

He follows through on that promise two months later, and she flings herself into his arms just as she did when they parted, laughing through her tears. She’s still small, short enough that her feet down touch the ground when she clings to his neck and shoulders, and his hands fit around her waist when he tosses her into the air and catches her again, arms going around her with an urgent gentleness that he doesn’t have words for.

Moana mumbles something into his shoulder, and he shifts, jostling her in his arms until she’s not tucked so firmly against him. “What was that, Curly?” he asks, eyes bright, breathless with joy. “Can’t hear you when you mumble.”

“Ohana.” She breathes, one hand moving to the back on his head to draw him into a hongi. “Ohana, Maui.”

He’s spent enough time around humans to know the word means family. But this curly-haired non-princess with her arms around his neck and sand on the bottoms of her feet is the first person to ever say it to him.

He buries his face in her hair, folding her in his arms as though he can keep her there forever. “Moana…” he chuckles, but his voice is wavering, wet and choked, and any other words die in his throat.

She pulls away to smile at him, and his knees almost give out at the love in her expression. Even through his blurring vision he can see fondness shining in her eyes.

“Ohana.” he chokes out, not hiding at all how much he needed that word, that assurance, how much he needs her.

She knows without him saying a word, because he doesn’t feel like he needs to pretend, not around her.

Taehyung Scenario: Starlight - Part 2.

Request: Hii,can i request a fanfic based on taeyeon’s starlight music video with taehyung please since the mv looks really nice if it could be turn into a fanfic,thank you❤️(sorry if my english is bad)(p.s i love roman holidays and i was made for loving you by you guys its amazing) 

Genre: Angst / Romance.

Part 1

It was sunday when you arrived from the last job you had left, a replacement waitress at a near by restaurant. You were tired even if you hadn’t done much, but somehow you felt exhausted.
The bell rang just as you were finishing some leftovers from yesterday, you went to open the door only to find Taehyung standing in front of you, a sheepish smile on his face and his hands full of bags.


-Please, let me come in- his voice although small was full of hope and regret, his eyes looked down at the bags and then at you. -It wasn’t really my intention to stand you up the other day, things were just… I couldn’t make it, but I’m here now- he extended the bags to you and you drifted your eyes from him to its contents.

-What is this? Ice cream?-

He nodded. -It’s just seven flavors but… maybe it could be a start?-

You saw the bags, now it was evident that it was ice cream there, the colorful packaging making you crave for them. You gave Taehyung a warning look that lost a bit of effect when your smile corresponded his. There you went again.

The next weeks you dedicated to do everything on the list, from doing a marathon of Friends, because you loved the damn series but hadn’t had the chance to watch lately since you were so busy with work, to playing piano together and going to the karaoke.

Taehyung was with you the whole time and you couldn’t be more excited, maybe this time he was staying for good, but no matter what you felt as if he could disappear any time. Sometimes he’d be absent for a couple of days, sometimes he had to get home really early or sometimes he’d suggest to make your “dates” at odd hours. You’d asked about it but he had brushed the issue off, telling you that it was his mother being way too strict, you wanted to believe that but at the same you knew you couldn’t, not wholly. You knew there was something Taehyung wasn’t telling and he was determinate on keeping from you.

One of the things you weren’t too sure if you’d be able to do was go to a rooftop party. You had ages without going out with friends but then you knew that Taehyung got along well with a lot of people and he could make it happen. You had never been in a party like that and being honest you weren’t exactly sure what was that you found so appealing about it. Was it that the place was kind unconventional, was it the hipster trendy feel about it? Or the open air? You didn’t know, but what you were absolutely sure about was that you wanted to spend that time with Taehyung and thus you were dressing to impress him. Although looking at yourself in the mirror you didn’t know if you looked impressive.
You were wearing black short shorts, a grey loose crop top, a knitted open sweater to balance all the skin you were showing and of course your favorite black boots. Biting your lip you decided to go with your hair down, impressive or not you loved how you looked.

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Ask Me Shit: Put a Number in My Askbox
  • <p> <b></b> 1. Full name<p/><b></b> 2. Childhood nickname(s)<p/><b></b> 3. 3 fears I have<p/><b></b> 4. 3 things I love<p/><b></b> 5. 10 favorite Tumblr blogs<p/><b></b> 6. Favorite animal(s)<p/><b></b> 7. Last song I listened to<p/><b></b> 8. One of my regrets that occurred during childhood<p/><b></b> 9. 4 turn ons<p/><b></b> 10. 4 turn offs<p/><b></b> 11. What color underwear I'm wearing<p/><b></b> 12. Tumblr wives/husbands<p/><b></b> 13. Tumblr "family"<p/><b></b> 14. Do I have any RL friends/family on Tumblr?<p/><b></b> 15. Natural hair and eye colors<p/><b></b> 16. Top 5 OTPs<p/><b></b> 17. 2 things I would change about myself if I could<p/><b></b> 18. 2 things I would change about the world if I coould<p/><b></b> 19. Something I really want<p/><b></b> 20. My favorite color<p/><b></b> 21. Who do I want to meet<p/><b></b> 22. Someone I miss<p/><b></b> 23. My favorite holiday<p/><b></b> 24. 3 goals for the near future<p/><b></b> 25. 3 things that annoy me easily<p/><b></b> 26. One lie I tell consistently<p/><b></b> 27. An embarrassing moment I still hate<p/><b></b> 28. Something I fantasize about<p/><b></b> 29. 3 things I love to do<p/><b></b> 30. My celebrity crushes, maximum of 5<p/><b></b> 31. Number of kids I want<p/><b></b> 32. Any unhealthy habits/addictions I have<p/><b></b> 33. Height<p/><b></b> 34. Strange obsessions<p/><b></b> 35. Relationship status<p/><b>36. I'll love you if:</b> <p/><b></b> 37. What my last text message said<p/><b></b> 38. Favorite ice cream<p/><b></b> 39. Last sexual encounter<p/><b></b> 40. The reason for my last break up<p/><b></b> 41. Allof the pets I've had<p/><b></b> 42. What I'm doing tomorrow<p/><b></b> 43. What I want to be when I grow up<p/><b></b> 44. Birthday<p/><b></b> 45. Two of my insecurities<p/><b></b> 46. What bands I've seen live<p/><b></b> 47. 6 places I'd like to visit<p/><b></b> 48. The nicest thing someone said to me<p/><b></b> 49. What I think is my best physical feature<p/><b></b> 50. Something I should have said a long time ago<p/><b></b> 51. 3 words that upset me most<p/><b></b> 52. What I would do if I won the lottery<p/><b></b> 53. My favorite quote<p/><b></b> 54. What I find attractive in "boys"<p/><b></b> 55. What I find attractive in "girls"<p/><b></b> 56. What I find attractive in everyone<p/><b></b> 57. Top 3 favorite accents<p/><b></b> 58. A good deed someone surprised me with<p/><b></b> 59. Last time I shaved<p/><b></b> 60. Something I wish I was better at<p/></p>
Stalking Your Nightmares

This is a Hotch x reader requested by anon where an unsub keeps stalking and threatening you, so Hotch vows to protect you and he brings you to his place for the night where you end up having a nightmare and he comforts you. I hope you like this! Thanks so much for reading!!! :)

Fear controlled you now. Fear was your master. There was no escaping the fear that consumed you night and day, no matter how much you begged it to leave. Fear lived inside of you for the past weeks, slowly chiseling away at your insides until you felt like a hollow vessel. Ever since that horrifying unsub had decided that you would be his next victim, you became afraid, haunted by constant fear.

Hotch hated seeing you so vulnerable and frightened. You tried to pretend like you were fine, but that was hard to do when you jumped at every single sound and flinched at the slightest touch. You knew that the terrifying man, the man guilty of awful, heinous crimes, was stalking you, and his threats never seemed to be quite empty, constantly shaking you to the core until you felt empty, afraid and alone, feeling lost and forgotten. Your life felt hopeless as everything withered away and became controlled by the fear.

One day, after a long day of work, Hotch approached you. You tried not to flinch away from his soft smile, you tried to let the warm comfort of the gesture take control for a single moment, but your life was too dark to see through the mist of fear that swallowed your sight.

“Hey, y/n,” He said, and you could hear a pitying sorrow hidden in the crevices of his breaths, a shallow smile peaking across the corners of his lips.

“Hi,” You said, and your voice croaked out weaker than you had intended

“Listen, I know that you’re afraid,” You moved your lips to protest, to defend yourself and your integrity, but he stopped you, “Don’t pretend you’re not. We all see it, and I want to help you,”

Slowly, you nodded, accepting his position to help in placid silence.

“I’ve noticed that you haven’t exactly been sleeping well recently, it’s evident across your face. So, I wanted to offer you my guest bedroom. Maybe being somewhere with somebody else there will help you sleep better,”

Your brain screamed protests. You would be so vulnerable, and Hotch would manage to rip past your harsh shields of defense and into your raw fear. But, your heart roared, and before you knew it, you were accepting his proposition with a slow nod.

Next thing you knew, you and Hotch were waiting in front of the elevator, watching as the numbers moved up and up until finally the elevator car reached your floor and the doors slid open with a familiar ding. You subconsciously hugged your jacket closer to your body as you and Hotch stepped out into the parking garage, and you hoped to god that he didn’t notice. You couldn’t be sure, but you were pretty sure you saw his shoulders sink farther down.

The air was flushed in tense silence as the two of you sat awkwardly in Hotch’s car. Unforgiving thoughts raced through your mind, and all you could seem to do was look out the window, refusing to let Hotch see your crumbling expression with your dark, hollowed eyes and absent of all but the distant remnants of a long-ago smile. Minute after minute passed as the rumbling city atmosphere finally began to give way to calm suburbs , where Hotch lived, just on the skirts of the city.

Hotch effortlessly pulled up to his own home, and you could tell that he was just as nervous, just as anxious to finally speak. But neither of you said a word as you stepped over the threshold of his dark home. He flicked some lights and you saw the sudden, bright allure of it, a warm home made for a family, bereft of fear and longing. It was a family man’s dream, and that’s what Hotch was.

“Wait,” You said, your voice crackling as it broke the fragile silence, “Where’s Jack?”

“He’s staying with his aunt this week, no need to worry,”

And you felt a brief weight lift off your shoulders ever-so-slightly because if Jack wasn’t there, that was one less person to put in danger if the horrible unsub to decided to steal you away, and gravely hurt whoever you were with.

“I can hold my own, y/n. Don’t worry about me,” Hotch said, and you could swear he could read your mind or something

But despite Hotch’s consoling words, you felt all of your doubts and regrets return full force, and once again you were choking on fear. He placed a gentle palm onto your elbow, at first you resisted, flinching away from the unwarned contact, but Hotch felt so warm and familiar beside you that you melted into the touch.

He lead you to the guest bedroom where you would be staying. The open windows provided golden light from the slowly setting sun to dance across the curves and edges that made the room. The colors were warm and comfortable, perfectly matched so as to mesh in a quintessential way and ease a certain undefinable stress.

“You can sleep in here,” He told you


And even though you had made it this far, you were standing in the center of a room that he offered you to stay in, you still felt an immense clog of oxygen filling your lungs. None of your doubts lessened and your fears did not minimize. You were left wanting and afraid, the room taunting you with wicked antagonism.

“Would you like something to eat? I can probably whip something together if you would like,”

“No,” You said, your voice straining harshly in your throat more than you had intended, “I think I’d rather just go to sleep if that’s all right,” Your stomach begged you to comply with his offer, but you were exhausted, and yes, still afraid, so you declined. A vague sigh of disappointment hid in his eyes, but he didn’t argue with your decision.

“Alright. Well, make yourself at home,” He left, his feet shuffling across the wooden floor as he closed the door behind him.

You didn’t have the energy or the heart to do anything other than fold yourself into the soft sheets and allow a strangely unencumbered sleep to consume you. The gentle drift of slumber felt foreign to you, but was welcomed amidst the alien room.

It could have been hours later or mere minutes when you woke up sweating to the sound of shrill screaming and it took you a moment to realize that the screams were your own, freshly resonating out of your own tortured throat as you sat up in Hotch’s guest bed. Hotch barged into the room as the remnants of your horrifying nightmares lingered in your mind, haunting your insides and burning your mind. You felt a rush of wet heat flood your face and you realized that hot tears were streaming down the sunken valleys of your cheeks. Hotch stood, gun poised, ready to fight, but the second he realized that there was nobody in the room but you, he threw his gun aside and carefully approached your wracking figure curled up on the bed.

He didn’t say a thing, didn’t need to say anything, but his eyes grew wide, ranging upon your trembling body. He wrapped his arms around you with ease, not a second thought conflicting with the first. He pulled you close to his chest, making sure you were aware that he was there.

Hotch melted into a soft comfort, a safety on the terrifying gun, and after god knows how long, your finger was pulled off of the trigger and you were no longer screaming as the frightened tears became nothing more than a trickling river of ghostly nightmares. Hotch leaned down, his full body and limbs seeming to completely surround you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Despite the fact that mere minutes earlier you had felt so terrified and scared of the unsub that had gone as far as stalking even your nightmares, you felt oddly safe. It was a peculiar feeling in the center of all your fears, a golden kernel hidden away. The key that unlocked the forbidden lock of fears inside of you was Hotch, and here he was, unlocking the terrors locked up inside of you, and freeing you (if only for just a moment) from the world of Hell that you had entered.

At least for now, nobody was going to be stalking your nightmares.


“What shall we destroy next?”

WIP/Collection of a robeast!Shiro drawings I’ve made cuz why not

The quote is from the movie trailer “A Monster Calls” and I just love it so much it fits the two well

Also Robeast!Shiro design makes a lot more sense once colored but I am too tired for that at the moment long story short I had a headcanon where Haggar makes Shiro into one of the monsters that the others will have to fight =w= mostly for my fic Stars Align Stars Collide cuz I’ve actually wanted to make a robeast for Shiro but couldn’t figure out what it would do or how to make it

SO I remember Haggar said Shiro was supposed to be their most powerful weapon and their most powerful weapons are robeasts SO what if Shiro’s robeast had the power to absorb/steal quintessence from any living thing like that ray blast Haggar uses to destroy planets and thus Robeast!Shiro was created I might call him Kuro since that’s the fan name for evil Shiro clone ANYWAY Shiro’s robeast is lion like hence the mane and the mane is made of quintessence he steals and it could grow and sink depending if he steals or uses it originally I figured the mane would be yellow like quintessence but also realized purple quintessence might make more sense cuz evil Galra quintessence

I’ve also realized I’ve grown too accustomed with drawing the death bringer as a chibi NO REGRETS

I’ll probably color the first image and the full body eventually ;w;

Special thanks to those in the shattnetwork skype chat who’s endless screaming and protest of me making a Robeast!Shiro made this all possible =w=

anonymous asked:

How would the clones and Jedi (including your OCs) react to their S/O being really into some sports that are generally considered quite dangerous? How would they react if they came home with some minor injuries on a regular basis? (I bet Kix would be so done with them XD)

(whoo lordy that’s a lot - I’ll have to write just a bit for each of them!)

Anakin: Probably very interested and wants to join in, and if he can’t he’s your most enthusiastic cheerleader

Obi-Wan: Sighs and face-palms a lot but only to disguise the fact that he’s worried. Actually he’s very proud of your achievements. 

Cat: Joins in. Gets hurt. Does not regret it even a little bit.

Crow: Cracks jokes when you slip and fall down but goes Full Freak Out when you actually get hurt.

Switch: Paints his entire body the color of your team and screams himself hoarse on game days.

Rowan: Frets like a mother hen about you getting hurt and makes sure you stretch/take proper precautions so you don’t get too hurt.

Charm: Comes to every single game, mostly to make sure you don’t die, and cuddles the heck out of you at night because he’s actually kinda scared to lose you.

Tala: She’d feel better about you playing if she could sense any fear from you - but she doesn’t want to tell you you’re overconfident b/c that’d be insulting, so she’d support you and pray you don’t get hurt.

Aayla: Thinks it’s a rather silly risk to take but loves how much you love it/how enthusiastic you get.

Kit: Lmao remember that time he went to war shirtless in just a bathing suit? Me too. He thinks it’s awesome.

Shaak Ti: Fully supports you but is actually worried sick; when she watches you play she doesn’t care about the score, she just wants you to be safe.

Rex: Yells at the referee when they rule against you. Might start a fight because he gets really into it.

Kix: Watches the games b/c he can’t bear not to but his hands kinda shake every time it looks like you might get hurt.


“I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.”

(click for larger resolution)


“Stop looking at me like that.”

Scott blinked. "Like what?“

Stiles ran a hand through his hair before gesticulating widely. "Like you ran over my cat and buried it in the backyard, Scott. I don’t have a cat… or a backyard!” Stiles said.

“Stiles–” Scott said, starting toward him.

Stiles flung his hands up. "No, stop–stop acting like this is your fault,“ he hissed, "stop acting like it was you who had your hands in your best friend’s stomach. Stop acting like this is your fucking fault.”

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anonymous asked:

47 w Dean

Dean x Reader

You couldn’t stop laughing. Hell, you were bent over at the waist, loud peals erupting from your lips and cheeks flushing pink. It had all been an experiment. You had taken advantage of Dean’s trust in you and had used him as your guinea pig.

You wanted to dye your hair, but weren’t really sure how the color would look on you. And that’s where Dean came in. Somehow convincing him to sit back and relax as you applied the dye, he had now ended up with hair that looked a sickly shade of green, instead of the stunning silver the box showcased.

Meanwhile, Dean was staring at himself in the mirror, expression full of horror and regret. You could have sworn you saw his eyes tear up. It was funny, extremely funny, even if it came with the price of Dean being angry at you. Without another word, Dean ran to the bathroom and quickly took off his clothes before climbing into the shower.

You began to clean everything up, throwing the gloves away while trying to calm yourself. After ten minutes, the laughter had receded, only to be replaced by a frustrated shriek from Dean. 

“IT’S NOT COMING OFF!” Dean emerged from the bathroom, stark naked. In his panic, he had bypassed the need for a towel, but you weren’t one to complain. Your eyes roved down his body before settling on his panic-stricken expression. His arms were raised to his hair. “Y/N, it’s not coming off.”

“Of course it isn’t, it’s semi-permanent,” you smiled innocently.

“TAKE IT OFF!” he exclaimed.

“Would you relax, it’ll be off in around a month or so, depends on how often you wash your hair,” you shrugged.

“A month?! I can’t look like this for a month,” he stomped his foot on the ground.

“We can always have you wear a beanie,” you winked. “Oh yes, you can wear a beanie. You’ll look so hot in it.”

“Don’t objectify me,” he glared.

“You’re still handsome to me,” you said, walking up to him and leaning up to kiss his lips. Dean was successfully distracted by your kiss and his predicament temporarily forgotten.


Some smuff to help ease the pain of last night.

Also on FF.NET

Finally together. Finally alone. Finally…

He was blushing. And Emma Swan couldn’t believe it.

For all his swagger, bravado and silky tongue, now they were alone - finally alone - that side of him had instantly evaporated. This man in front of her was not what she had expected. 

His eyelashes were fluttering, his breath heavy and shaking, his fingers so light and cautious on her skin, as if he were scared she wasn’t real.

“Killian,” she whispered into his neck, brushing her lips at the line where his scruff ended -behind his ear - just the spot where she knew it would burn. In the good way.

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anonymous asked:

Would you write a part 3 to the Spider-Man fic, maybe the bad guy gets Liam or they go on a date or Zayn takes Liam to the rooftops with the webs please

Okay so I’m super super super late for this but hey :) i’m back! What about Zayn saves Liam from the bad guy and they end up a roof? let’s mixed it up.

Liam is still bleeding a little bit, he can feel bruises blooming all over his skin from where he fell, where he’s been hit. He can feel the way his heart his pulsing in his left eye and he knows it’s gonna turn blue and purplish. 


Liam is holding tight to Zayn’s as he shoots webs from buildings to buildings. It’s like they are flying and maybe Liam is just crazy but, he loves the feeling of it. 

He closes his eyes and tries to focus his dizzy mind on the way he feels Zayn’s strong muscle flex under his grip and how the wind is loud in his ears, almost painfully cold against his bruised skin. 

He feels like falling asleep, suddenly. Maybe it’s being in Zayn’s arms, maybe it’s all the adrenaline going down, maybe it’s the concussion he probably has from where he fell (no he’s been thrown) down the stairs. 

Zayn called him a trouble magnet and yeah he was right all along. Maybe it’s because they are more than friends now, more than a superhero and a poor citizen in distress. Maybe it’s because Liam knows who Zayn is, under the mask.

He is the superhero’s love interest and the perfect target for villains, now.

They ask him, who Spiderman was while beating him up. But Liam never told them that he knew who was hiding under the costume. That he knew his name and how soft his skin feels under his fingertips. How sweet his pretty lips taste. How it sounds when he moans Liam’s name in the early morning sun when Liam takes him in his mouth and makes him fall apart just before he puts the suit back up and leaves through Liam’s window.

That’s what help him, thinking about Zayn’s sleepy smile when they wake up tangled together. 

He stayed silent and kept it to himself as each blow were making blood pour from wounds and cuts, as bruises were punched in his stomach and ribs. 

Hopefully Zayn was quick. He saved him, of course he did, Liam never doubted him. 

They reaches the roof of some tall building at some point. Liam feels the way his feet meet hard concrete. He wants to keep holding to Zayn but he is being carefully lye down on his back, something soft and smooth being pushed under his head. 

“Stay here okay, babe. Don’t move I’ll be back. And please don’t fall asleep. You hurt your head pretty bad.”

“Not falling sleep. Just closing m’eyes for a bit.”

He hears the way Zayn mutters a quiet fuck and then he is alone. Alone with the night’s cold air blowing through his hair and it feels so good on his sweaty skin. It’s completely silent around him so they must be really, really high not to hear the constant noise of the traffic down the street. 

He feels something damp and cold against his forehead and when he opens his eyes he meets Zayn’s worried ones. He has removed his mask and there is a bit of blood on his face too, but he is always so beautiful it makes Liam’s stomach hurt sometimes. There is this painful, addicting little squeeze inside of him whenever those amber eyes meets his own darker ones.

“M’gonna clean up your wounds okay? Stay still. You’re okay now.”

“I know. You’re with me. M’always okay when I’m with you.”

Zayn bites down at his lip and Liam can see tears in his eyes, tears he is trying to blink away and ignore and he stays silent as he cleans the blood from Liam’s body. He has no idea where Zayn founds all that stuff to clean him up, nice bandages and there is even a bit of food next to them. But he doesn’t have time to ask questions about it, not when Zayn’s cheeks are not wet with silent tears.

“Babe. Don’t cry I’m fine.”

I am not fine, Liam. I almost lost you earlier and I am not fine at all.”

“Don’t wanna be the reason y’cry. You should never ever cry.”

Zayn closes his eyes, trying to calm down, taking deep, shaky breaths but Liam can see the way tears keeps falling down, how Zayn is fighting against it. 

He knows how Zayn must feel. He felt it back in the warehouse, how it felt like it was the end. Like he was going to die here without having the chance to see Zayn again. He knows how it feels to almost lose the person you love. So he lets him feel it, he lets Zayn cry because sometimes that all you need to do. That’s the only solution. 

He takes one final breath before opening his eyes, they are red and wet and for some unknown reason, it makes the color of his eyes even more beautiful.  “I am so sorry Liam.”

“Don’t be. Nothing could ever make me regret falling in love with you.”

Liam sees the way Zayn stills, his eyes so wide and full of surprise, like he is going to start crying all over again, “You’re concussed,” he breathes and he looks seconds away from another breakdown.

“Yeah, but I was in love with you before hitting my head on the concrete, you donut.”

“Liam… I. Just. You.”

“It’s okay Zayn.”

“Me too. I love you too. Oh god. So much Liam!”

He leans down to press a kiss to Liam’s lips, and he can taste blood and dirt and bit of that product Zayn put on that cut down his cheek. It’s a soft kiss, a careful one, maybe because of the state the both of them are in right now, maybe because it’s like a new start. Because it’s love now, and they are a little bit scared. Because it’s fragile suddenly, because they open their heart to each other and it’s serious, important.

Zayn presses his forehead against Liam, keeping him close with his hands on Liam’s cheeks, “You have to eat a little bit, and then we’ll bring you to the hospital.”

“Romantic picnic on the rooftops of New York, what a gentleman you are, Spiderman.”

It brings the first real smile of the night on Zayn’s beautiful face, and he leans for a second kiss, and a third. Liam almost died tonight but in the end, everything is perfect. He’s been saved by his favorite superhero and even got himself a boyfriend.

(Well maybe after a little trip to the hospital it would be better but for now, Liam can’t ask for more.)

part 1 | part 2

the lightbearers :::: prologue

summary: Steampunk AU. When bounty hunter Emma Swan is commissioned by Robert Gold, powerful and mysterious president of the Royal Society of English Magicians, to take down notorious airship pirate Captain Killian Jones, it lands them in a web of political and magical intrigue, dark secrets, and the dangerous London underworld - as well as their unwanted attraction to each other. Multi-chapter, slow burn.
rating: T (will go up)
status: WIP
available: and AO3

The closer he got, the more it glittered, a great monolith of glass in the westering autumn sun. Swept up in the human tide, he elbowed from side to side so nobody’d knock him over, for in this crowd he wouldn’t be bloody getting up again. All of them were drawn as if by a lodestone toward the Crystal Palace reclining magnificently among the lawns of Hyde Park, gulping in the curiosity-seeking masses. Admission to the Great Exhibition at first had cost the ungodly sum of three guineas the day, its marvels only visible to the rich and idle, but as Parliamentary season ended and the wealthy were fleeing London for their country houses, the price had come down. It’d be closing soon, the first fortnight of October, and then what they were after would never be in reach again. So the Captain said, at least, and the Captain was usually right.

As he casually cut the queue, Will Scarlet palmed a shilling from the unguarded purse in front of him, stepped up, and punched it into the box. He took the chit torn off the bronze machine by the sweating clerk, and strolled in through the turnstiles, while the other bloke was still protesting he’d had his fee right here, just then, he swore he’d had it, he hadn’t a clue where it could have gone. Will tipped him a regretful salute, then started to trot.

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People You May Know (Part 19)

Girl Meets World Fanfiction

Chapter 1 (X) Chapter 2 (X) Chapter 3 (X) Chapter 4 (X) Chapter 5 (X) Chapter 6 (X) Chapter 7 (X) Chapter 8 (X) Chapter 9 (X) Chapter 10 (X) Chapter 11 (X) Chapter 12 (X) Chapter 13 (X) Chapter 14 (X) Chapter 15 (X) Chapter 16 (X) Chapter 17 (X) Chapter 18 (X) Chapter (19) Chapter (20)

AU: She’s his tutor. He’s the star player of the lacrosse team and the most popular guy in school. They live in polar opposite worlds, but not in ones you might be used to with this kind of story. Riley Matthews has perfect parents who love one another unconditionally. She has a 4.5 GPA, is expecting to get accepted into an elite writing program for high school students at NYU this summer, and has friends who support her in every way possible. Lucas Friar lives in a world of secrets and lies. His parents are in the middle of a brutal divorce, his dad’s company is going bankrupt, he’s failing 11th Grade English, and his girlfriend is cheating on him with someone he cares about. When their worlds intersect, their lives are changed in ways they didn’t think were possible.

Summary: Riley and Jensen head to the homecoming dance together. Riley and Lucas prepare to carry out their plan to expose the truth about everything that Jensen has done. Things don’t go the way they were hoping. 

Chapter 19: Dancing in the Dark


When I was five-years-old, my mother decided that she wanted to sign me up for dance classes at the studio down the street from our apartment. Due to the obvious problem I had with tripping over my own two feet, I wasn’t very good. The dance teacher stuck me in the back row and told me to blend in with the rest of the girls, but I never minded because I was too terrified of making a fool of myself. On the day of our first recital, I was so nervous that I begged my parents not to make me go on stage. “I don’t want to embarrass myself,” I said. My dad got down to my eye-level, put both his hands on my shoulders and whispered in my ear so that only I could hear him, “You are Riley Matthews. You might not have the best shuffle-ball-change in the class, but you have the biggest heart of all the girls on that stage. That shines brighter than anyone with talent. So go out there, smile that beautiful, bright smile of yours, and show them your heart.” So I did. And I was terrible. But I never regretted it because it was something I needed to do to prove to myself that I could. Despite the inner voice inside screaming at me not to do it, I did it anyway because I knew it would make me a better person somehow. 

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Talk Now, Think Later

Part Two of the Neighborly Affection Series

Words: 896

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: language

Your name: submit What is this?

The following weeks you had only run into James a few times. It was almost always in the morning when you left for work and he was ushering out whichever girl he had decided to call the night before. You were getting used to seeing a red-head – Nat, you think he had called her – in the early hours of the morning after you returned from your jog, as she was shutting the door quietly as to not wake up James. You liked Nat. The others, however, were loud and obnoxious and almost always clinging to James, pressing loud, sloppy kisses to his face when he tried to greet you in the morning.

You never saw any of the girls twice. The only exception was Nat, and while you had no reason to, you always felt a sinking feeling in your stomach when you saw her leaving James’s apartment.

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