ive never written anything w this relationship so i am pleased as punch and kinda wanna live in this world for a little while so i might post more
warnings: parent death ment
feat: everybody except scott and thor. i’ll probably find some way to work them in though.
a/n: bucky’s gonna b a bit of an ass
You were practically jumping up and down in the elevator because of how excited you were as the doors slid open. It’d been almost 6 months since you’d last seen Tony which was without a doubt the longest period of time you’d gone without seeing him in your life. Things had become chaotic in your life and his but the two of you still talked on a regular basis. You were his one sense of stability at this point in his life and he had proven time and time again that he would do anything to keep you safe.
bambam: the one who will die first
- trips over oxygen
- dabs before he dies
- tries hiding behind one of his friends
- requests to split up which is never a good idea
- it all happens at a house party in his giant mansion
- “I’m too young to die!”
- hides in a room upstairs instead of running out the house
- is killed by being too loud
yugyeom: the dumb blonde
- gives out his social security number, entire birthday, house address, and full name on the phone with the killer
- “I’ve called the cops and they’re on their way!”
- walks around with a knife he doesn’t know how to use
- sobs almost too loud
- answers the strange knocks on the door with “who is it?”
- runs out the house but leaves the door open
- dies from crashing his sports car into a tree since its dark
jackson: the jokester
- tries to keep everyone calm and happy though they are probably gonna be slaughtered
- screams out for the killer to come get them deep in the night
- “I ain’t scared of nobody!” (Is scared for dear life)
- it all happens at a sleepover of his
- suspects one of his many friends is the killer
- takes off his shirt and checks to make sure nobody is in the house with a gun
- doesn’t actually know how to use a gun
- ends up actually shooting himself by pulling the trigger to his face
jaebum: the friend that everyone thinks is the killer
- somehow always gone whenever someone dies
- knows the rules of survival in a horror movie
- can be found at some random graveyard listening to music with his earphones in
- intimidates everyone
- is not actually the killer
- protects everyone but mainly his cats in the room upstairs
- “If you’d shut your country ass up, maybe we will have a chance of survival.”
- actually makes it toward the end of the movie
- dies after getting the succ behind a dumpster from behind slaughtered to death
jinyoung: the killer nobody suspected
- manipulated people into thinking it was others who is doing the murdering instead of himself
- pretends to cry and be shocked when he hears the news about the people being murdered
- “I will kill Yugyeom.”
- would always use the ‘college’ excuse as to why he has to leave when he’s actually about to go on a killing spree
- always to himself
- in the cafe drinking coffee while sketching out his next attack
- doesn’t actually die, just gets caught months later and gets life in prison
youngjae: the afraid marshmallow
- constantly crying but gets comfort from jaebum out of all people
- “This is a no no!”
- remains hidden in a closet after dialing 911
- still makes everyone positive with just his presence
- the worst anyone has ever seen him
- even though people thought he was weak and too fragile, he actually knew how to survive
- knew it was jinyoung all along
- lived throughout the whole movie
mark: the shy partner in crime with jinyoung
- was there most of the time with the others
- used the rest of his time to help his partner, jinyoung with the killing
- nobody ever knew it was mark
- pretended to be scared the whole time
- occasionally left here and there to smoke weed
- murdered his snake LA friends
- never had the guts to hurt youngjae
the second time isak enters even’s room, they’re coming back from school and even is throwing his backpack on the floor and taking his socks off and he holds one of them and pretends he’s about to throw it isak’s way and isak gives him a stern look and warns “don’t you dare”. and even smiles a cheeky smile, says “you know i wouldn’t” and isak breathes out a laughter and shakes his head, replies “no, even, i don’t”. and then even is going through his drawers, a pensive look on his face and grabs black jogging pants and a pastel pink shirt with a teddy bear at the front, hands them to isak. isak unfolds the shirt and raises an eyebrow at even, but he doesn’t protest, decides to play along, takes his shirt off and asks even “where did you get that shirt?” and now even has also changed into something more comfortable and he walks over to isak, hugs him from behind and he sways with him a little and says “flea market last summer, only 20 kroner, total steal for such an iconic fashion piece”. and isak chuckles, turns around and kisses him, quick pecks on his lips
and then even walks over to his loft bed, climbs up the ladder and he’s sitting on the mattress and waiting for isak to join him but isak kind of just. stays there. and even looks down at him and asks “hey, you coming?” and isak walks over to the ladder and holds on to each side and places a foot on the first rung but once again he goes still. and then even is up on his knees and looking down at him and isak is starring at the floor, loose grip on the ladder and even frowns at the sight, asks “hey you, what’s up?” and he gets down as he says the words, isak moving out of the way. isak glances up and chews on his bottom lip and he looks slightly confused and nervous. “it’s just -” he sighs, and even waits, gently presses his forehead against his. “you’re going to think i’m ridiculous but, hm, you see when i was eight, i had this friend and his name was, hm…mattias but, hm, that’s not important. hm, so yeah i went to sleep over to his house once because we had this, hm, football competition over the weekend and so i was supposed to sleep at his place and he had this…bunk bed and i remember when i climbed the ladder, my foot kind of slipped and i, hm, fell”
he lets out another long sigh and even wraps him in a hug, kisses his temple and says “you know, when i was six, i fell from my bicycle and i didn’t want to ride one for the longest time. do you think that was ridiculous of me?” isak is resting chin on even’s shoulder and he whispers “no” and for a second even holds him tighter and he softly says “then why would i think you’re ridiculous?” isak gives a small shrug. “i just haven’t tried to since that one time, you know?” and even replies “well, we can try tonight, if you’re wiling. but we’ve got these extra mattresses too, so it’s really up to you” even lets go of isak and gives him a comforting smile, one that says i see you, it’s alright. and isak can’t help it, runs a hand through even’s hair and smiles back, and a few seconds later he nods towards the bed and says “let’s go”
and so isak goes first and even is right there behind him, a reassuring presence as isak climbs up the ladder, step by step. and when isak is up on the bed, even immediately joins him, tells him “i’m really proud of you” and he kisses isak, slow and affectionate. they remain like this for a while, exchanging words and kisses and delicate touches. and then even runs a finger across isak’s lips and down his neck and then on his shoulder, over the shirt he gave him earlier. even lets out a little laugh and asks “that’s a really cool shirt, where’d you get it?” and isak rolls his eyes, a small smile spread across his face and he says “well, this pretty great guy gave it to me, said he got it for sale or something” and even rubs his nose against his, playfully asks “a pretty great guy, hm?” and isak places a hand on even’s cheek, replies “yeah, he’s incredible actually, and he’s got this really comfortable bed and” isak is looking into even’s eyes and his are filled with appreciation, for what he’s just done and for the person he is, and he adds “i think you’d love him”
heard your fair share of rumours about Park Jimin. And while being roommates
was not an ideal circumstance, maybe it would clear the air between what you
knew and did not know.
Word Count: 2,040
A/N: Returning to your scheduled updates - I’ll try and throw out a couple of To Do List scenarios today just to speed things along. And of course the first update is a combination of Roommate!AU and Mafia!AU - because what else do I actually write on this blog? dont mind the slightly rushed ending plz kthnx
you sure you haven’t noticed anything suspicious about him? Because don’t be
afraid to tell me if you have; what is said between the two of us is completely confidential.”
refrained from rolling your eyes and instead opted to smile kindly at the older
RA. “Nothing besides the fact he doesn’t wash his plates.” You answered,
attempting to diffuse the tension with your humour.
huffed and folded her arms. “Well if you do-”
be sure to tell you if Jimin does something out of the ordinary, don’t worry.”
pulled her lips into a tight line and sighed. “You’re a good kid [Y/N]… Enjoy
a wave, you shut your dorm room door behind you and sighed, pinching the bridge
of your nose as you looked to the figure passed out on the couch.
owe me, Park Jimin…” You grumbled, more so to yourself than to him, before
you stalked away to your respective bedroom to get ready for your lecture.
weren’t too sure with what your roommate did with his spare time. You admit you
were concerned, a bit too invested if you were completely honest, and that
alone somehow compelled you to keep lying to your dorm’s RA.
meant well, you knew that, but for some reason you didn’t want to rat Jimin
you did, he would never forgive you.
despite the lying and the secrecy, you were perfectly fine with the dynamic you
had going with him.
can I get Nct U's reaction to y/n's habit of petting their bf's hair 😇❤️
Initially, he thought it was a bit odd of a habit. In response he began doing it to you, chuckling as you fret, asking him to not mess up your hair. It’s now become a habit of his own and he quite enjoys smoothing his hand over your tresses as a way of showing his adoration.
He’s a bit protective of himself and it’d startle him initially. However, I think he’d relax in your presence. He’d enjoy the momentary contact and crave the comforting nature of it when he missed you or needed a comforting touch. You’d probably know when not to touch him; when he distances himself and remains quiet.
If you were tall enough to reach him- It’d be one of your quirky habits, but he’d like it. He knows it’s a means in which you show your affection; it’d make him soft. He can also be a bit moody and brush your hand away, telling you not to mess up his hair.
It’d definitely be something he’d notice, but I feel he’d keep quiet about it. Each time he’d just smile, continuing the task at hand.
He’d absolutely adore it. He loves the sensation of you raking your fingers thru his hair, or playing with his hair, even simply petting him. As a result, he’d most likely strive to get more of your attention; ie: laying his head in your lap, etc…
…Mark would probably embarrass you. He’d laugh and point out the oddity of it. He’d come to find it very comforting and relaxing tho, unsure if it was your presence that comforted him, or the small act of affection.
Gheleon sits beneath the tree and leans against its gnarled trunk, enjoying the summer warmth while it lasts. It is old, its boughs blackened by the passing of time and he does not know what else. Perhaps it is older even than he is, older even than them all. Timur would find some wild portent here, would make some reference to the old books and legends he collects, but Gheleon respects it because it has survived. Even this far north, where the winters are cold and long.
Once, he put Quietus into the trunk to test its hardness, but that was long ago and now he cannot find the scar.
It is Efrideet who finds him, as she always does - he is not surprised that it takes one Hunter to catch another. She comes up over the hill, singing to herself, not bothering to hide her approach.
“Gheleon!” she yells, waving an arm over her head. He doesn’t respond. Her cloak shifts in the bright sun, sparkling white and green, and although they are all accustomed to the weight of their armor, today she is helm-less.
She sits next to him with a sigh. “You’re not thinking of cutting it down, are you? Whittling yourself a pair of greaves?”
He shakes his head. “Soft, flammable - hard to think of something worse.”
Efrideet laughs. “Less morbid than bone, though.”
“Less effective, too.”
“As you say. Besides, I can’t picture you hurting the old thing. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone to be so fond of a tree.”
They share the silence for a few long moments. Hunters are better than the others at keeping their mouths shut and their eyes open, but only Efrideet knows what it means to be really, truly still. Even Perun, cat-like and predatory as she is, is full of restless, twitching energy.
“So?” he says at last, eyes closed to the sun.
“The Fallen are moving east, towards the old Cosmodrome. Radegast is worried.”
“Better them than another upstart warlord.”
“Perhaps. We’ll move tomorrow. Bring your knives.”
“You came all this way just to tell me not to be late?”
“Someone had to find you. And maybe I’m fond of the tree, too.”
She stands, stretches, then pats the trunk. Her hair flashes in the dappled sunlight that filters between the leaves. “Always nice to catch up.”
“Likewise,” mutters Gheleon.
“Wasn’t talking to you,” Efrideet says over her shoulder, but there is a smile on her lips and Gheleon cannot help but return it. She disappears the same way as she came, and only by straining his ears can he hear the crackle of her jumpship.
He looks down at the grass that splits around a thick root that rises, serpent-like, before diving back beneath the ground. He imagines how deep it goes, pictures it circling the world, pictures the deep roots and the reaching trunk above supporting all the cosmos in the gentle grasp of leafy branches.
He has been spending too much time with Timur.
Perhaps Efrideet is right. Perhaps he is morbid. But when he speaks of finger-bone gauntlets and skull-helmets made from the remains of his friends, it is because it is a kind of comfort to imagine their presence wrapped around him. He pulls Swiftling from its sheath, and the metal sparkles almost as brightly as her smile.
He wonders if she understands it as well as he has come to: even the strongest plate can be shattered. This is his armor, now; the summer sun and a moment of quiet, the wolves and their boundless hope, the promise of growing earth beneath his tired feet.
Guess you could say this is Mother’s Day-ish floof >w>
Arian was rocking lazily in the chair by the mantle when Cullen entered the main room of their home, quietly singing a tune that he’d heard more and more frequently as of late.
“It’s a Dalish lullaby,”she told him one night as they lay curled up in one another, his fingers drawing random shapes over the swell of her abdomen. “My mother used to sing it to me when I was little.”
“It’s beautiful,” Cullen replied, kissing her cheek. “Are you singing it for the baby?”
Arian laughed, offering a little shrug. “May as well get a head-start, right?” she said. “Maybe they’ll recognize it once they’re here.”
He was anticipating what the prospect of parenthood would bring, of that there wasn’t a doubt. Arian, however, had embraced the title of mother as soon as she had announced they were expecting. It made his heart full seeing how happy she became whenever the subject of their baby came up, the way her eyes would brighten and her cheeks would flush.
Tonight, she was focused on knitting, a skill she had picked up with the help of Mia and Rosalie. Though having only one arm made things difficult in the beginning, Arian didn’t falter. Instead, she embraced the challenge, figuring out a solution in the matter of days and going from there. Now, she would knit or sew every evening, arguing that she didn’t want Mia to feel like she had to make all of their baby’s clothes.
As Cullen approached her, he found that she was working on a pair of booties, a project she had taken up just the day before. Their mabari shot up from his spot near the fireplace the moment he heard Cullen’s footsteps, shoving his snout into the man’s hand and wagging his stub of a tail.
“Been glued to your side all day, and he still wants attention,” Arian snickered without looking up.
“I think he feels like he’s going to be replaced, with how much I dote on you,” Cullen replied, rubbing the mabari’s head. “Alright, boy. Give me a few minutes and we’ll play fetch outside for a while.” he told the dog, who yipped happily before plopping down in front of the fireplace once more.
Cullen knelt at Arian’s side then, examining the works in progress which rested on the curve of her belly.
“What do you think?” she asked him softly, holding up a completed bootie. The tiny article of clothing was lovely in every sense, as it evidenced just how much love and care had gone into its craft - but that’s not what caused Cullen’s chest to tighten.
“Are… will the baby really be that small?” he asked, his voice quiet. Arian let out a gentle laugh, her smile rosy and affectionate.
“Yes, my love. They really will,” she confirmed, setting her knitting aside so she could cup his cheek. “Does that frighten you?”
Cullen shook his head, then shrugged. “It doesn’t, but…”
“Cullen,” Arian said, coaxing him to look at her. “It’s okay if it frightens you. It frightens me, too. To bear something so little and precious, to protect it, you would be afraid.”
He appreciated that his wife had a means of explaining what he always could not. He was frightened, but he was also ecstatic. He didn’t know what being a father would bring, or how he would adjust to the title. What he did know, however, was that he would spend every waking moment ensuring their child was safe, happy, and loved beyond belief.
“I am afraid,” he admitted to her, turning his head to press his lips to her palm. “But with every passing day, it becomes overshadowed by the joy I feel. I…” he swallowed, looking into his wife’s eyes tenderly, “I cannot wait to meet them.”
Arian, touched by his words, smiled at him, her eyes squinting. “I can’t either,” she murmured, leaning over to kiss his brow. “I hope they have your eyes.”
“I hope they have your smile,” he countered, smirking at her. “That was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
“Really?” she inquired, tilting her head. “I’ll have to have Varric write that in his novel about us. ‘He became enamored by her infectious smile…’”
“You haven’t been encouraging him again, have you?” Cullen deadpanned, though his lips twitched upward.
Arian feigned offense, her eyes widening as her hand flew to her chest. “Perish the thought, good sir!” she exclaimed, then smiled. “In all seriousness, I think I like the idea of our story remaining ours.” She leaned over, nuzzling her forehead into his. “What do you think?”
Cullen sighed as the tiniest of smiles rose on his cheeks, his eyes closing as he basked in the forever-comforting presence of his lover and wife.
A/N: Drabble request
by @charlotteofcamelot – “Could I maybe request a super short drabble of Cas
interacting – and I don’t mean sexually – with an overweight character that has
body image issues, please?” Reader has serious self-doubts about their body.
Enter Castiel stage left with the fluff. I have a theory that’s why he wears
the trench coat all the time – extra pockets to carry more fluff. (P.S. You
specified “super short” length, but my muse is not so great at following
instructions. I had to give up editing it because more words kept getting
This is pointless! I have
nothing to wear!
Your frustration grew more and more unbearable with each article of clothing
hastily pulled from the closet and tugged over your round shoulders or yanked
up too generous thighs and ultimately yielding the same unsatisfactory reflection
in the mirror. Ten minutes. We’re leaving
in ten minutes. You’d have settled for looking just okay at this point. You
weren’t out to win any beauty pageants tonight. Far from it – only going out
for cheap drinks and live music in a hole-in-the-wall bar with shitty lighting.
But nothing fit right. Nothing made you feel good enough to go out with the Winchester
brothers. Not with Dean and his gorgeous green eyes and charismatic personality
and boy-next-door bod who managed to make flannel and layers simultaneously approachable
and sexy. And certainly not with Sam and his devastating combination of a swoon-worthy
sculpted muscular build and bottomless intellect for deep conversation – not to
mention better hair than you on your best days. Ten minutes, ten hours, it doesn’t matter. I look terrible! Worked
into a tizzy, you chucked your favorite oversized sweater at the mirror,
knocking it from the dresser in a cacophony of shattered glass, and flopped
defeated onto your bed. I’ll just stay in
tonight. It’s not worth it.
a sharp knock echoed on your door, Sam’s warm voice sounding from the other
side, “you alright? I heard a noise.”
i don’t think keith will ever be willing to pilot the black lion. at least, not for some time, hopefully not any time throughout season 3, and most certainly not before he has some serious development.
keith and shiro’s relationship is another one of those things that season 2 meant to built upon. they’ve probably known each other since keith enrolled in the garrison as a child, a large part of keith’s development and growth having been associated with the things shiro has taught him. there’s even this post stating the idea that the figure we saw isn’t actually keith’s dad, but rather an image conjured up by keith due to his growth and dependency in relation to shiro. simply put, keith is highly dependent upon shiro’s constant presence and support. we saw what happened when shiro was held prisoner for a year: keith was kicked from the garrison and struggled to find a place to go until he was drawn out to the desert.
when shiro is telling keith that he wants him to pilot the black lion if something happens to him, keith’s expression is one of disbelief. shiro disappeared once already, and keith doesn’t even want to remotely entertain the possibility that could happen again.
season 2 did less to develop keith as an individual character and did more to establish his dependency on shiro. this is brought to a focal point during his trials with the blade of marmora. one of keith’s greatest hopes in that moment was to see shiro, to feel that sense of solidity and reassurance that he more or less grew up with. going hand in hand with that is one his greatest fears: losing shiro again.
keith’s connection with the rest of the team members are very minimal, as well. the foundations are there, but he has yet to establish bonds with the others the way he has with shiro. granted, the time keith has spent with shiro is much longer than the time spent with the other paladins, and it isn’t easy to form that kind of connection in a much shorter span of time. but the fact that shiro remains a continuous presence in keith’s life also serves a means of barring anything more than the necessary teamwork to occur. keith is comfortable with shiro, and he’s never been in a situation in which he has been forced to step out of that comfort zone until this point in time.
and now, shiro isn’t there.
keith is alone again, and this time, he can’t isolate himself. shiro trusts keith enough to put the black lion in his hands in the case that he himself can’t pilot it. and it isn’t that keith lacks the leadership skills that’s going to hold him back, it’s that keith refuses to accept what piloting the black lion means.
until keith develops alongside and along with the paladins, until keith can learn to depend on people other than shiro, he will not be able to pilot the black lion. because to pilot the black lion is to accept what he fears most: that shiro is gone for good.
a petal for your thoughts
tattoo artist!taehyung x reader // pg-13 // 791 Would you let me draw your flowers?
for my precious @taekken. she said she needed some tattooed!tae in her life, so here we are. turns out i needed tattooed!tae in my life too, SO this is probably going to be a drabble series. i have so much planned for this au. i hope ya’ll like it. :’)
Broken Dreams || Peter Parker x Reader ((drabble))
I need something like this right now.
You were so upset that you couldn’t even speak properly because of how much you were crying.
To make a long story short, you didn’t get into the university of your dreams, which was what started this whole situation. Receiving the email from the admissions office explaining in crucial detail about how you were unfit to spend your undergrad years with them made all of the stress and heartache come crashing down on you.
You honestly felt like you were trash; that you were too dumb to attend any university. Despite the many times your parents told you it was okay, and that you could always go somewhere else, you were too upset to see the alternatives.
Which was what prompted your parents to take drastic measures when they called your boyfriend to come and see you.
Too weak to even protest the thought of Peter stopping by, you bury yourself deep within the covers of your bed and allow your blankets to soak in your tears. Your nose was running with a copious amount of mucus and your eyes felt sore from how much you had been crying. You knew that you were a mess, yet you couldn’t stop.
After waiting alone in silence for a total of fifteen minutes, you heard your bedroom door open as footsteps came closer to your bed. Not bothered by your red face or how damp it was, you felt Peter lean down to press a kiss against your cheek.
He remains silent when he brushes back your damp hair and joins you in your bed. You feel him lift up the blankets before enveloping you in his arms. His chest was pressed closely against your back while his arms were wrapped tightly around your front.
Peter doesn’t say a word, just continues to silently comfort you with his gentle kisses and warmth. Unlike your parents, he knew how much this meant to you and decided that it was best to say nothing at all in this situation.
You allow him to draw shapes against the front of your chest, comforting you with his presence as you started to feel better while in his embrace. Shutting your eyes, you carefully lift Peter’s hand before placing a kiss against his knuckles. “I love you, thank you for coming.”
You felt Peter lean down to press a kiss against your hair, “I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you, never forget that.”
It was true that one of your dreams had been broken, but you suppose you could always build a new one with Peter by your side.
And that thought alone was enough to cease your tears once and for all.
This chapter explores the events of 11x11, when Amelia is clearly affected by what’s happening to Jackson, Avery and their baby, how Owen notices she is not doing well and the in betweens of their amazing scene at the hospital chapel; It also includes the events of 11x12 (yaaa the part we were all waiting for), when they flirt in such an adorkable way and it leads to… well you know how this ends :) won’t spoil it any more. Let’s get to it!
The Journey –
Owen ran back and
forth in the ER, trying to get the place running smoothly in April’s absence.
He knew that day was going to be especially hard. Even though people didn’t
address it directly, they knew about Kepner and Avery’s unborn child’s
condition and it felt like everyone was walking around on eggshells, unsure of
what to say or do.
The moment he
heard Amelia Shepherd thoughtfully suggesting the others to just give them
privacy, instead of getting distracted and going back to work like everyone
else did, Owen was left intrigued. People were too absorbed with their own
problems and tasks to notice it, but the shadow of sadness behind the blue of
Amelia’s eyes was immediately spotted by him.
coworkers scattered around, Owen quickly hurried his pace to catch up with her.
you said you wanted to go over Dr. Herman’s tumor plan.” He reminded her of
their encounter that morning. Even though they hadn’t seen each other much for
the past few days, Amelia had made sure to keep him informed of her surgical
plan. “You want to get lunch?” Owen asked, eager to spend more time with her.
Not only did he notice she’d been distant from him ever since the day he’d
almost kissed the woman in the skills lab, Amelia also looked sad and he hated
to see it.
Prompt from riarklespirfire: Funny story actually… I kinda lost the prompt, lolz, but it was along the lines of ’We hate each other but now we’re project partners so I guess we’ll just have to not kill each other’, AU (obviously)
Author’s Note: So, I am still taking Riarkle/GMW prompts for short stories if you like this one… I honestly did not plan for this to get so long and crazy, I just loved writing this version of Riley and Farkle. It just got to the point where I had to end it somewhere, so I did. However, if you really want, I am thinking a part 2 might be in the future. Let me know if anyone would want/read that…
“Well, it appears the sun has risen once again on our blessed Abigail Adams, my young chemists. Good morning and welcome back from your last Spring Break!”
Riley Matthews felt the familiar sharp stab of a bony elbow her side and turned to her best friend with an exaggerated look, eyebrows raised in questioning.
Maya Hart, beautiful, blonde, and bold, quirked one of her own dainty eyebrows and muttered, “Is he for real?”
Dropping her expression to an endearing smile, Riley rolled her eyes and pointed to the front with her pencil, “Pay attention.”
“-Last project of your high school chemistry careers.” Mr. Hudson was introducing, to be met with a round of cheers from the chunk of Senior class residing at their desks.
Waving, the elder man silenced the crowd, “Please, hold your applause until the end. Now, this last project obviously has to be something to stick in your minds and motivate you all to pursue chemistry in college!”
“Neeever gonna happen,” Maya mumbled for only Riley, resting her chin on her palm and leaning forward.
The brunette bit back a smile and shook her head.
Mr. Hudson continued, “So, I’m gonna let you blow something up.”
Okay, so while I was busy reaching my nano word count, I hit the 700 follower milestone. So, to celebrate, I decided to go ahead and give you guys a sneak peek at SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT (the larch)
Okay, not completely different. It’s still Tomarry. But it’s not from any of the other wips I’ve ever posted. It was something I originally intended to be a oneshot holiday fic of some sort, but I never finished it. So, have 1k of Harry freaking out about introducing Tom to his parents.
Harry took a deep breath, gripping the hand of the man sitting beside him and trying to keep himself calm. His leg bounced up and down while he used his teeth to worry a loose piece of skin on his bottom lip.
The hand that he had wrapped in his own somehow managed to escape his grip and made it’s way to the leg in question, pressing down firmly on Harry’s thigh.
“Harry,” the man driving the car said, “Calm down.”
Harry didn’t bother biting back a slightly strangled chuckle.
“Calm down? How the hell can I you ask me to calm down?” Harry said, hoping his voice wasn’t as strained as it sounded to his own ears. “You don’t understand. You haven’t met my family.”
have seen this coming. Really. However, with everything that has happened these
past few months… Gods be good.
seemed to be alright at Castle Black – well,
as alright as one can be after escaping a monster like Ramsay. And oh, how he’d longed to beat him to
death, not only for little Rickon but for Sansa
– sweet Sansa, who’d done nothing to deserve such a fate.
No, that life
had not been his to take, as much as he’d wished it. As much as he’d craved it - Sansa had deserved closure.
This one covers episodes 10x23 and 10x24. Derek is going to DC and has handed over his practice and appointed Amelia to replace him. After apparently being on board, Meredith decides last minute that she doesn’t want to go (after Cristina gives her that “he’s dreamy, but you’re the sun” speech). Owen is dealing with a crazy day and afters weeks hovering around, Cristina finally goes off to Zurich. Meanwhile, Amelia is debating with James on the phone nearly every day because she doesn’t want to go back to LA.
The Journey – Part Three
paced back and forth in the living room of her brother’s house. She couldn’t
believe how much her life had changed and in a matter of days.
she’d come to Seattle, hoping to get her head straight, the neurosurgeon was kind
of hoping the experience would reinforce her wish to stay in Los Angeles, marry
James and build a family with him.
none of that had happened.
Derek moved back and forth between Seattle and DC, he had progressively
referred his patients to her. Day after day, discussions with James over the
phone had followed. Amelia slowly got seduced by the big hospital lifestyle
until it suddenly clicked that the thing she’d been craving for when she’d left
LA wasn’t exactly to start something new in her life, but rather to restart
something she deeply cared about and hadn’t been able to focus on lately: her
career and passion for surgery.
Amelia couldn’t believe that the order of events were a coincidence. Just when
she’d felt the urge to break up her engagement, knowing that despite loving her
fiancé, she really didn’t need or want him in her life anymore, she had been
offered the opportunity to stay in Seattle and give her career a full spin.
cared about James and even though they ultimately wanted the same things in
life, it hurt to admit she didn’t want those things with him, or exactly at that very moment. He was a nice, generous
person and she acknowledged how amazing he had been to her in a time of need
but now, she felt ready to take on the world and explore other possibilities.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see where he could fit in that new scenario.
had decided to move to Washington and Amelia now had a big house and a big
practice to take after. She secretly hoped that she would also get the job of
head of Neuro that her brother was leaving vacant, but she knew it wasn’t very
likely. To win the position, Amelia would have to be hired by Owen Hunt.
Prompt: Ok so hear me out. A drarry fic idea I had. Everyone is in DADA and their learning about boggarts and everyone has had their turn except Draco, and he politely asks Lupin to not have to participate, and Lupin tells him there is nothing to worry about and makes him participate. But when the boggart pops out it turns into Harry telling Draco that he will never love him, and calls him all kinds of names, and Draco kinda breaks down and runs out of class. I would love to see this story!! Thanks XXX
This was really fun to write, ah the angst.
Warnings; MAJOR references to depression, self harm (cutting), self hate
And as usual hella gay
As soon as Draco heard the word ‘boggart,’ he knew something would go wrong. He didn’t have the most conventional fears after all, most people didn’t fear that their father would constantly ignore them, or that he would be carted off to Azkaban, yet they were still his fears, and fears should be private, not something the world would know, especially since he was sure that at least 8 people in that class wanted him dead.
He was sure that at least 5 of them would use this moment in future, or in some vain attempt to stop his from doing whatever he wasn’t supposed to be doing that certain day.
Approaching professor lupin before class, Draco knocked on the defence against the dark arts office door, and when he heard an 'enter,’ from the other side, he quickly slipped through the wood and stone and shut it behind him.
“Draco! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Lupin inquired, he hadn’t been expecting Draco to come to him with an inquiry, more like him to ask where on earth he had taken one creature or another to plague another student.
Draco let out a breath and began to fiddle with his hair which was no longer fixed in place due to how much he had been fiddling with it through the day.
“Professor lupin, I-” Draco hesitated, before huffing quickly and continuing with his original plan.
“Professor lupin, I’m not entirely comfortable with today’s lesson,” lupin looked up, surprised, “not that I don’t like your lessons professor, it’s just that, well, I’m not entirely comfortable with the fact that people will see what I fear most.”
Lupin gave him a empathetic look, almost as if he could completely understand what Draco meant.
"Draco, sometimes we must face our greatest fears, and sometimes people will see, but that won’t make you any less brave for facing them. If they see, then what good will it do to them,” he finished, walking towards the boy.
“Professor, it’s just that, I don’t exactly know what I fear most,” Draco confessed, with his head hung in what Remus could only describe as shame.
“Draco, I’m sorry, but unless you have a note from your head of house, then I can do absolutely nothing,” Lupin confessed apologetically, he now mimicking the the position that Draco was in now.
Draco inhaled sharply and nodded.
“I, I understand,” he replied, before slowly standing up and moving towards the door.
“Mr Malfoy,” Draco froze, keen to hear what lupin had to say.
“If it gets too much, I will step in, i promise.”
With that, Draco opened the door and left.
To say that he was dreading this lesson was an understatement. He had never felt such anticipation in his life, yet as lupin opened the door and ushered the students in, the small smile that he gave him was enough to dispel at least some of the butterflies.
The line seemed to be long, yet everyone seemed to get their fear out of the way quickly, with Longbottom going first and ridding professor Snape of his usually threatening composure, then, the line progressed on from there.
By the time it came to Malfoy’s turn, he felt as if he were about to throw up, yet the presence of Lupin just out of reach came as a welcome comfort to him. The mystery of what could possibly come to him was eating him alive. Could it be his father, disapproving as always? The dark mark which he knew he must inherit? The death of his mother? Lord Voldemort himself?
He stepped towards the giant Jack in a Box which seemed to be swinging threateningly towards him, yet as it swung forwards for a first time, it did nothing, simply remaining as it was. The second time, it seemed to slow slightly, analysing him where he stood, and as it swung back a third time, it dissolved, shrinking down into a figure.
As it solidified, the first thing that Draco noticed was the bright green eyes, which were filled with scorn and distaste at the sight in front of him. His face was filled with disgust and mockery towards the malfoy which had been presented to him, and his arms were crossed and his legs were tense, almost as if he were getting ready to pounce at any moment.
“Dear merlin you look pathetic,” Harry spat, at least, it looked like Harry, but it couldn’t be, right?
“I mean really, asking your professor to save you from a little fear, how useless can you be?” Draco turned to look at lupin only to find him just as stunned as he was.
“I don’t even know why I’m bothering with a faggot ass snob like you,” Draco flinched as the class erupted into whispers, and felt his cheeks start to burn with anger and embarrassment, hanging his head.
“How the hell do you think anyone could love you, you’re a disgusting excuse for a human being and you know it,"
Draco tried raising his wand to banish the fear, but he couldn’t, it had taken over him. It was gripping his throat making it hard to breath, and twisting his stomach, making him want to vomit, every word he said was a knife to the gut he couldn’t get rid of.
"That’s right,” he hissed, “show your peers your arm, it is that one you slice, isn’t it?” Draco’s arm fell quickly, as did a wet sensation of his cheek, as a hot tear began to roll to meet his trembling lip.
“Cry why don’t you, it won’t change the fact that you can’t even love yourself, and if you can’t love you, then how the hell could i?"
A dagger sliced through Draco’s heart, piercing the thick wall which he kept so impenetrably thick, as it protected him from things like this.
He was vaguely aware of professor lupin standing in front of him to distract the boggart, yet the damage was already done, and as he shouted ridiculous, Draco sprinted from behind him into the empty corridor, ignoring someone who seemed to be shouting his name.
It took Harry two hours until he finally found what he was looking for, searching in every boy’s bathroom in all of hogwarts in order to locate one person, yeah it didn’t seem like a good idea at the time either. He would have used a locating spell, but it was one that Seamus Finnigan had give him and Harry wasn’t in the mood to be blown up today.
When he finally found Draco, it wasn’t even in a boy’s bathroom.
Moaning myrtle had been passing through a corridor which Harry happened to be passing through at the time, and that itself seemed a bit strange, yet when she began to complain about being kicked out of her own bathroom by a boy no less, especially one whom seemed to blame Harry for the whole ordeal, well, she had to moan to someone.
Harry found Draco leaning against the one of the sinks with a broken shard which he assumed came from the smashed mirror, which would also explain his bloody fist. His arm was bleeding as several small cuts across it leaked out small trickles of the red liquid, causing Harry to gasp out in horror.
Draco turned to meet his green eyes, the same green eyes which had taunted him just hours ago.
He smirked coldly.
"Here to taunt me again?” His words were spat towards Harry with such a hatred that he had never seen Draco have for anyone. Sure he poked fun but never did his words hold so much venom until now.
“Draco, I would never,” Harry began, before he was cut off by a harsh laugh from Draco, who had begun to squeeze the shard of glass placed between his fingers and his palm, making him bleed only more.
“But you did. It was you, I saw,” he said, his voice hushing down to a whisper.
Harry slowly moved towards Draco, avoiding to touch the small cuts on his arm in fear that it would hurt him. When he got to Draco’s hand, he lifted it by the wrist before turning it to examine the glass in his hands, then gently coaxing his fingers open and removing the object from between them.
Quickly, he threw the glass away before it could hurt Draco any further.
Draco looked up to Harry, meeting his eyes, both of them reflecting an equal amount of fear for the other, Draco of what Harry might say, and Harry of what Draco might do.
Harry drew in a shaky breath and shook his head at the cuts on Draco’s wrist.
He began to rip at the bottom of his white school shirt, making quick work of the seams, before finally getting a good chunk of material, before carefully wrapping it around the injured wrist.
“Listen Draco, I will never hurt you like that,” Harry nodded his head outside, still focusing on bandaging, "or like this,“ he nodded to the small scars which had littered Draco’s wrist.
Draco smiled down at the boy making quick work of his small injuries.
“I promise you prat.”
Draco gave out a short laugh before both of them fell back into a comfortable silence.