robs face makes it all better

Regarding (Y/N) - Request

Requested by anon: So the reader has a a stuffed animal moose same gave her but in order to protect her he ask castiel to erase her memories of him she ends up leaving the stuff animal and going back to her life at home but then sees the Winchesters in the impala and she follows them to the hotel and when they leave she goes through there stuff finding the moose and she begins to cry not knowing why but sam Comes back and she remembers everything and gets upset!
& anon: Sam X Reader something like regarding dean except the reader is losing her memory?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader.

Word count: 2.520

Warnings: Bit of angst.

A/N: I changed the story a bit. Also, I’m cheesy as Hell in this one, sorry.


Originally posted by adaav

“I’m fine, Sam,” she assured, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Right, then what’s in your hand?” Sam inquired angrily.

She looked down to her hand; she had totally forgotten she was holding something. “It’s a… a stuffed toy.”

“A stuffed toy…” Sam repeated, “Shaped like which animal?”

“Like a…” She licked her lips, and looked behind Sam’s shoulder. Dean was trying to tell her the answer, mouthing it. “Like a goose.”

Dean face palmed as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Moose, (Y/N), it’s a moose.” Sam argued, giving her his sad puppy eyes. “Crowley calls me like that… Don’t you remember?”

“Right! Crowley, the Queen of Hell…”

“King,” Dean corrected.

“The King of Hell calls you moose and I do too!” She cheered, “You gave this to me on… Christmas?”

Sam rolled his eyes again. He wasn’t going to argue, not with her. It wasn’t her fault. He turned his back on her and left the room. Dean stayed with (Y/N), comforting her and trying to make sure she didn’t forget the names of the furniture by naming them over and over again.

“So who is he anyway?” She inquired as Sam left the room. Dean’s eyes saddened as he proceeded to explain her relationship with his brother. “Good, he’s so hot… And you are his… dad?”

Sam was out in the cold, letting the tears spill his eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be hurt during that – or any – hunt, but he had been so reckless leaving her to her own luck outside in the woods while they inspected the little cottage… She was supposed to get inside as soon as she heard something suspicious; that was it. But something attacked her before she could even give a step forward…

“You’re sad…” Castiel observed as he appeared next to Sam.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard your prayer.” The angel informed, siting awkwardly by Sam’s side.

“I just want her to be safe, Cas…” Sam whispered as more tears slipped his hazel eyes.

“Do you really think this is the way?” Castiel inquired, “I could just heal her…”

“No, no, this is her chance to step away and live a normal life.” Sam insisted, looking up at the angel. Castiel could see the grief and the sorrow behind his eyes. She was the woman Sam loved, and he wanted her to be safe and sound.

“Dean might have something to say about this…”

“He does, but it’s not up to him.” Sam interrupted.

“It’s not up to you either, it’s her life.” Castiel replied.

“It’s her life what I’m trying to save here, man.” Sam begged one more time before Castiel agreed.

The old stuffed moose was the only thing she left.

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Chicks dig that

Gif’s not mine!

Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Wade Wilson x reader
Genres: angst, attempted rape, more angst, bad language, mild fluff
Words: 2.760
Summary: Reader is attacked in an alley; Wade shows up and saves her, but says a rude comment, which makes reader mad. He tries to apologize, but to no avail, until he comes without his suit. Reader invites his for a beer and they talk, in the end finding a friend in one another - requested by @directorpercivalgraves 

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anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking Bughead requests, could you do one where Betty gets hurt in some way and Jughead fixes her up? Thanks!!!

Here you go!! 

Summary: Betty and Veronica have gotten into a car accident in which they were run off the road by a mysterious vehicle behind Veronica’s apartment building and Jughead rushes over there to check on them

A/N: My thought while writing this was that this could be a prequel to my kidnapping fic, Missing (Part 1 and Part 2) or it could be a standalone. However you want to read or interpret it! <3  

Jughead flew through the front door of Veronica and Hermione Lodge’s apartment, the hinges bending so far back that they screeched in protest as they hit the door stopper with a bang.

“Veronica, are you guys okay?” Jughead asked, his voice full of panic as he frantically searched the room for any sign of trouble. “What happened? Where’s Betty?”

“We’re fine, Jughead,” Veronica assured him, dropping the icepack from her elbow and crossing the room to stand adjacent to his position in front of the couch. “We’re just a little scraped up. Betty is-”

Before she could finish her sentence, a bruised-up Betty emerged from the restroom, her tear-streaked face red and puffy from the trauma of the evening.

“Betty!” Jughead sprinted across the room to take her face in his hands, turning her cheeks this way and that as he inspected every inch of it for scrapes that weren’t visible on the surface.

“Juggie,” Betty whispered, her voice barely audible as she struggled to speak over her bruised lip. “I’m okay, I swear. It looks way worse than it is.”

“It looks like there’s a cut the size of the iceberg that sank the titanic currently seeping blood from your forehead,” Jughead pointed out, his fingers hovering over the wound as he examined the severity of the cut.

“A tad dramatic - but yeah, that about sums up the situation,” Betty muttered, her nails digging into her arm as Jughead poked the bruise in just the wrong spot. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Jughead mumbled, tugging on her elbow as a way to lead her to the other side of the apartment where the kitchen was located. “Here, come into the light so I can get a better look at it.”

Jughead tilted Betty’s chin back and forth as he tried to find the angle that would allow him to see the damage of the scrape in the best light.

“It doesn’t look that deep, but we should still get it checked out just in case,” Jughead explained, already pulling out Archie’s car keys from his back pocket so they could head to the hospital.

“No doctors,” Betty insisted, her forehead wrinkling in concern as she placed a hand over the keys he held in his hand.

“Bets, come on you could have a concussion or-”

“Juggie, I just-” Betty sighed, taking a step away from Jughead to lean over the counter, her gaze locking on the detailed speckles in the marble of the countertop. “Can we just sit here for a few minutes? You and me?”

“I don’t know, Bets, I’m really worried that you’ve lost too much blood and-”

“Please,” Betty begged, her eyes pleading with him as she pushed herself off the counter to take Jughead’s hands in her own. “I was really scared tonight and all I could think about the entire time was getting through it just to spend a few moments alone with you. Please, give me that right now. And we can deal with the rest later.”

Jughead sighed after a moment, his fingers pushing back a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail, away from her face. “Well how can I say no to that?”

“You can’t,” Betty smirked, a look of accomplishment over this victory evident in her expression. “It’s physically impossible.” 

“You cruel, cruel, woman,” Jughead muttered, one eyebrow raising in amusement as he watched Betty triumphantly cross her arms in front of her chest.

“That’s me,” Betty shrugged, her smile growing even wider, but then immediately fading as the pain began to prickle all over her lips and forehead.

“Okay, you win,” Jughead conceded. “But you at least have to let me put a bandage over that. I think there’s a first-aid kit in Veronica’s medicine cabinet.”

“Deal,” Betty agreed, stepping out of the way so that Jughead could leave the kitchen and head to Veronica’s bathroom.

A few minutes later, Jughead was unraveling the gauze that he found stashed at the bottom of the little red trunk Hermione Lodge had stocked full with medical supplies that she kept in the guest bathroom. Setting it to the side of the counter, Jughead picked up the tube of antibiotic ointment and began applying it to the cotton swab before holding it over Betty’s wound.

“This might sting a little,” he warned, adjusting the swab in his hand and gently placing a hand on Betty’s cheek.

“Mother of - ow!” Betty shrieked, jerking away from his touch as her hand flew up to shield her wound. “Juggie!”

“Bets, I haven’t even touched you yet,” Jughead informed her, lifting up the untouched bandage and cotton swab as proof.

“I know, but I’m consciously aware that you’re about to and the anticipation of that is making me all jumpy,” Betty explained, squirming uncomfortably in her seat on the stool before reluctantly turning back to Jughead.

“It’s okay, just take a deep breath - good, now close your eyes and focus on my voice,” Jughead instructed in a soothing voice. Once Betty had done as she was told, Jughead gently smoothed back her hair and began to dress the wound. “Think about the day we took a stroll in that little park off the highway - the one with the fairy lights wrapped around the gazebo and the picnic tables overlooking the duck pond. You were so worried about that big history test - the one that made Veronica resort to emptying all the chocolate bars out of the vending machine and eating every single one of them in the stall of the girls bathroom. Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Betty assured him, soft laughter escaping her lips as the memory of that day flashed across her mind. “She wouldn’t stop complaining about the amount of pimples that kept popping up on her face all week. I thought I was going to have to rob a dermatologist’s office for all the best acne cream just to keep her mind at ease.”

“Yeah, and you almost did,” Jughead added, lightly rubbing Betty’s scrape with the cotton swab and setting it on the counter. “Anyway, to make you feel better I took you to that gazebo and I waited for the sun to set and the lights to flicker on in the dim glow of twilight and I told you that story about the time my parents took us to the zoo for Jellybean’s fourth birthday.”

Betty smiled at the memory, her eyes still shut tight as Jughead finished cutting a piece of gauze and gently placed it over her wound. “All she wanted to do the entire day was stand around the giraffe exhibit feeding them treats and pretending that she was one of them.”

“Up until my dad bought her the biggest ice cream cone he could find,” Jughead finished for her, securing the gauze into place and turning in his stool to put the materials back into the first-aide kit.

“And she got so close to the fence that the giraffe just scooped it right out of her hand,” Betty continued, her lips curling into an amused smile as she recalled the ending to the story that she had heard a dozen times.

“Cone and all,” Jughead concluded, shutting the lid of the first-aide kit and securing the latch. “She wouldn’t stop crying. I thought that she was going to make herself sick until-”

“Until you ran all the way back to the ice cream vendor to buy her one of each flavor,” Betty recalled, her eyes opening ever-so-slightly as they struggled to find his gaze. “I love that story.”

“I know,” Jughead breathed, reaching up to run his thumb gently along the apple of her cheek to wipe away an unwanted smudge of mascara. “And do you know why I told it to you that day? Why I chose that one specific moment?”

“To distract me,” Betty answered. “So that I’d stop worrying about that stupid history test and focus on being in the moment with you.”

“Yeah, and it worked,” Jughead informed her, his finger moving up the side of her cheek to rest near her freshly-bandaged cut on her forehead. “Kinda like now.”

Betty’s gaze followed his arm, causing her own hand to fly up to feel the gauze resting comfortably on her forehead.

“You put the bandage on,” Betty pointed out. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Exactly,” Jughead whispered, leaning forward to flick the tip of her nose playfully with his index finger before hopping off the stool and scooping the first-aide kit into his hands. 

“You’re good,” Betty complimented him, taking a cautious step off the stool to join him in front of the refrigerator. “I like when you take care of me like this.”

“I like it too,” Jughead admitted, taking her hand in his and smiling down at her. “But don’t make a habit of this whole getting hurt business. That, I’m not too fond of.”

“I’ll try my best,” Betty promised, and Jughead turned on his heel to head back to the bathroom to return the medical supplies. “Hey, Juggie?”

Jughead turned back to raise a curious eyebrow in her direction. “Yeah, Bets?”

“Thank you,” Betty whispered, any thoughts of the car accident that she and Veronica had endured only a few hours ago already -almost- forgotten. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jughead admitted. “Although, all I have to do is see that smile of yours and I forget that anything else - or anyone else - exists beyond Betty Cooper. I don’t know what I would have done if I would have lost you tonight.”

Betty quickly crossed the kitchen to throw her arms around him, burying her head in his chest as she let the warmth of his body wash over her.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that again, okay?” Betty assured him, turning her head slightly to meet his eyes. “I promise.”

They both wanted to believe those words - the promise of safety and comfort that all young couples wish for the other. But in a town like Riverdale, where the air you breathe is coated with secrets and lies, they knew it was unlikely that a promise like that was never going to be broken. They knew, but they hoped beyond hope that they were wrong. 

Turns out that hope wasn’t enough. 

**Read Missing Part 1 and 2 to find out what happens next**

Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life

2.9k words of very manly cockles nonsense
for @casthegrumpy‘s birthday

The first time Misha reads the script, he laughs so hysterically that he gets lightheaded and has to take a nap in his trailer.

Jensen will soon be standing in front of a teenage girl, listening intently as she explains the concept of Destiel subtext to him.

Nothing could delight Misha more.

Granted, Jensen is one of his best friends. And he maybe probably definitely wouldn’t be opposed if Jensen one day decided to burn his straight pride flag and kissed his face just a little.

But that’s beside the point.

The point is that Jensen–poor, overcompensating, precious little macho Jensen–has to confront his worst fear on national television: Dean and Cas doing it.

The second time Misha reads the script–and honestly he reads it a second time simply because it fills him with such petty joy (it’s not like he’s in the fucking episode)–he gets stuck on one teensy little part.

Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life.


Real life.

Before he has the inclination to filter himself, he shoots Robbie a text: Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life? Is there something between me and Jensen that I don’t know about?

Robbie texts back almost immediately.


Siobhan and Kristen. Are you implying that Jensen and I are “a couple in real life”?

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I was first in line for this photo op because I had Misha’s meet and greet. RIch and Matt hadn’t yet come into the room. I had all the pieces at my feet. Rob was standing by himself and I flipped the pieces around so he could see them. He came over, picked his piece up and complimented it. He asked how long they took and I told him two weeks. I asked him if he wanted to keep it and he said “Really? Yes!” I asked him if he thought Rich and Matt would want theirs but he didn’t know. So then Matt and Rich come into the room, I walk up and pass everyone their pieces. Rob says “Everyone has to make the faces they’re making in the pictures.” I look over and see Matt studying his to know what face to make. Then the picture is taken. Then I see Rich gesture to Chris and Rich’s arm comes around my shoulder and they take another picture. I had no idea he covered his face until I got the print. After these pictures were taken, I told them I could take the pieces off of the board so they could fold them up in their bags if they wanted to keep them and I could bring them at autos. I had the second picture signed and reminded them all that the pieces look better from farther away. I told Rob that his was everyone’s favorite. Matt thanked me, told me his wife would love it, and reached over the table to hug me.

anonymous asked:

do you like hashirama + madara flashbacks? tbh i enjoyed them a lot..

Best flashback in the series. It’s funny cos it feels so Kishimoto in its love/hate brother relationship fraught with bitterness and admiration at the same time. It’s also atypical in its unsentimentality, madara lost 5 brothers, not once did kishi show him with a poor puppy face like how he drew Naruto all the time . It also had nothing about the usual whining about pain and loneliness. When hashirama flipped out about his brother death, he didn’t make it about himself losing a brother, it’s about his brother being robbed of a future at such young age. And he realised this is not just about him and his brother, he’s moved to make the world a better place. Both madara and hashirama are not self absorbed and whiny kids like the main cast, although they lived in a crueler world. Too bad the ending ruined their characters, none of the issues in their flashback was resolved.

Just One Day (하루만) [pt.2]: Twilight

Part One: Sun Rise/ Part Two: Twilight

“Both of you thought that your fates had split off in different paths, branching off in opposite directions, never to intersect again. But fate was a difficult, stubborn, and funny thing that tormented people like you guys, making sure that the most unexpected thing always occurred.”

Originally posted by kathzt

It has been three years.

Yet you still saw the day of his departure in your mind, memory as fresh and painful and raw as if it had been yesterday. Your panic, worry, and loss from that day still haunted you, and it has repeated itself in your mind so frequently that you had lost count.

It ate you alive from the inside out.

It still felt like a stab in the heart every time you tried to call his old number, and the cold, monotonous automated voice reminded you that line was now disconnected. Yet it never stopped you from trying again.

From the outside, you looked perfectly fine. Your were twenty three now, had a stable career, and lived on your own in the same, tiny apartment as three years ago, because you simply didn’t have the heart to leave the only place that still carried his memories. But only you knew that on the inside, a black abyss with untrimmed edges now sat where your heart was mercilessly torn out, where no human or light could walk in or shine through. You were waiting for the person that took your heart away to return it back to you.

It has been three years.

He thought he could forget you. He thought that his newly found passion and career as an idol and rapper could cleanly and completely wipe you from his mind. And it worked for a while. It worked when he was too busy practicing, preparing for a new comeback. It worked when he was on stage, soaking up the energy and love from his fans. But whenever practice came to an end, and he reached for his towel to wipe off the sweat from his brows, he would remember how you used to do the same thing, only your touch was gentler, slower. The moment he stepped off stage, he wished to see you behind the backstage curtains, jumping and shouting to cheer him on. But of course you weren’t there. And every time reality slapped him across the face with your absence, he would hate himself for thinking of you again, a habit he had failed to break, even after three years.

He tried. He really did. In fact, the first place he went to after he landed in Seoul was the phone company. He changed his number so that you wouldn’t be able to reach him, so that you wouldn’t be able to shake up his heart, his feelings again. But little did he know that it did not require a phone call to do that, it just required his memories. Every time your smiling face floated up before his eyes, the bubbly and smiley façade he had hid himself behind for the past three years would come crumbling down a bit, right before he would clear his thoughts and build it up again, even thicker and more fortified than before. He repeated that routine countless times, and each time it got harder and harder.

His members knew he was hiding something, yet they never pried, because they loved him like a brother, and understood that it brings him extreme pain. Hoseok appreciated and loved them equally much, because they helped him fulfill his dream, and distracted him from thinking about you once in a while.

Both of you thought that your fates had split off in different paths, branching off in opposite directions, never to intersect again. But fate was a difficult, stubborn, and funny thing that tormented people like you guys, making sure that the most unexpected thing always occurred.

And unexpected it was.

You didn’t think you would ever see his face again, never mind his radiant smile. Yet when you lifted your head one ordinary day to observe the new, and very large, LED billboard the city had installed on your way to work, there it was, in all its glory and brilliance, an exact replica of the one from your memories. You rubbed your eyes, and stared at it again, positive that it was just an illusion, that you just missed him too deeply. But it remained there on the screen, along with six other smiling faces. You didn’t realized that you had stopped in the middle of the ongoing traffic, simply staring, dumbfounded, at his face, wondering how he could be so unchanged by life’s rapid, moving clock.

And just as much as you didn’t expect to see him, he certainly didn’t expect to see you.

Especially not at his fan meeting, where your face was supposed to blend with the many others that were present in the room. He was supposed to see you just like how he saw the rest of his fans, simply another person in a haze of faces. At first he didn’t notice you, sitting quietly in the very rear row, biting your nails furiously, a bad habit he had tried to help you break for years but in the end just gave up on. You wondered in that moment, camouflaged against the other excited fans, what had worked up your courage to fly yourself to Korea, to purchase tickets to this event, and why you had convinced yourself it was an good idea. What if he didn’t recognize you? What if he didn’t want to see you?

You had figured out, within the three years since he left, the reason behind Hoseok’s sudden departure. You recalled back to every longing and lingering glance he casted your way, and thought about every situation where his fingers stayed on your shoulders just a few seconds longer than it had to. And you blamed yourself for not noticing these signs earlier, although what good would it do if you did? To you, the relationship you shared with him had long gone past the possibility of being romantic, and he knew. But you refused to let yourself use that as an excuse to justify your ignorance, because you realized that you had put him in a lot more agony than he did you. So what made you think you could just show up and appear in front of him again, out of the blue? What did you want to achieve? You didn’t know, and you would fully understand if he hated you and didn’t want to see you because of all the things you have done to him. But you missed him, and that was persuading enough for you to muster up every ounce of courage in your small, thin body and step up his table.

Just like you predicted, he didn’t recognize you.

As he smiled the same beautiful, warm smile at you just as he had to the fans before you, you stared at his features and tried to take a million mental shots just in case you never saw him again. Disappointment was all you felt when he dismissed you to go on to the next waiting member. You had officially lost your chance, and you would have to endure every other lonely night the same way you did in the past three years. But as he stared at your face, and then your back profile, longer, face slowly twisting in disbelief, he made his security guard stop you by the elbow, and drag you backstage.

Even until this day, you still couldn’t figure out how your thoughts managed to race a thousand miles per hour as you blindly stumbled behind his tall, built security guard into his waiting room, where he was sitting alone as he had lied to his members and told them he was going to the restroom. And you remember the shock on his face as he pieced the puzzle together, and fitted your face into the one of the girl from his memories.

You could admit that you changed a lot. Your previous pitch-black hair that was always perched on the crown of your head in a bun has now turned a lovely shade of chocolate brown, which just coincidentally matched his, and spilled all over your shoulders. You opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by Hoseok’s voice instead.

“Oh my god…”

“Hoseok. It’s me. Do you remember me? I’m-”

Your voice suddenly became muffled by his jacket as he engulfed you in a choking hug, three years of longing and misery all poured into one single embrace.

But he then came to his senses, and pushed you away quickly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quite harshly, his tone frightening you a bit.

“I came to see you, Hoseok. I came because I missed you.”

I missed you too, he wanted to say, I missed you so much.

But he reminded himself of the pain, of the wound that had reopened itself as you catapulted yourself into his life again, this time the aching even more excruciating than the last.

“And what makes you think you can just come present yourself again after three whole years of silence, huh? What makes you think that you appearing suddenly is going to make anything better? Answer me!” He practically shouted in your face, and you cringed at the the loudness of his voice, his anger.

Yet you knew perfectly well that he had every reason in the world to be mad, furious even. After all he was the victim, and you were the culprit that had stolen his heart the same way he robbed you of yours.

“I didn’t want anything from this,” you replied softly, “I just wanted to see you, and make sure you were okay. I didn’t expect to be dragged back here, I didn’t even expect to be able to talk to you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have came.” You walked backwards toward the exit. You were heartbroken, not because of his outburst, his fury, but because he didn’t even try to stop you as you pushed through the door.

He didn’t need you anymore.

Outside, you were met by six concentrated faces, all pressed against the wall in a line formation, trying to sneak even a little bit of the conversation out of the room. They all straightened as soon as they saw you exit. They took note of your now tear-streaked face, and the loud shouting that just transferred from inside the room. They didn’t know what it was, maybe it was the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment, maybe it was the soft, broken sobs that shook your frame, maybe it was an coincidence, or maybe it was just fate that made one of them chase after your seceding shadow and stop you.

“Do you have a place to stay?” he asked you. You shook your head, for you had not planned that far into the future yet. Today was your first day in Korea, and you were going to seek out a cheap hotel to stay in tonight. His expression turned sympathetic, and he placed a soothing hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, you can stay with us.”

The rest of the members gaped at him with a look just as bewildered as yours. But they could only agree as the boy who confronted you nodded firmly at them.

And that’s how you ended up in BTS’s dorm.

They allowed you to shower first, seeing that you were the only female in the household. You were worried about Hoseok’s reaction when he found out you were going to spend the night under his roof, and your worries were confirmed when he stormed into the dorm with a dark expression on his face, demanding to know who it was that let you in. The boy who had offered you refuge, and earlier introduced himself as Jungkook, stepped up to him. Hoseok stared at him angrily for a moment, but then simply turned his head to speed into his own room, slamming the door behind him.

The boys allowed you to sleep in the guest room, which was the only room still unoccupied. You buried your face in the pillow, the day’s events replaying in your head. Fate was cruel, you decided, as the soft material brushed against your cheeks. It was cruel for letting Hoseok enter your childhood in the first place. It was cruel for letting you fall in and out of love with him, while leaving him still helplessly in love with you. It was cruel for allowing him to leave so blatantly, and not letting you hear his voice until three years later. It was cruel for letting you see him again, for letting you crash into his life again. It was cruel for not allowing him accept you back as his best friend, a place you had longed for so desperately in the past three years.

As you concluded these things, Hoseok tossed and turned in his own room. He rewinded in his head the beautiful memories he shared with you, the agony of leaving you worried and frantic that day in the airport, the way he missed you so achingly for the past three years, and the things he said to you today when he finally saw you. He understood that what he did was for the best. If you left, life would continue on just as before, although a little more difficult and a little bit slower. But he couldn’t control his own body as he lifted himself out of bed, and stared out his window at the shining crescent hanging, worriless, in the empty sky. Before he could stop himself, his feet had carried him to the closed guest room door. Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked.

“Who is it?” Your voice was unclear through the wood of the entrance.

“Me.” was all he had to say before the door swung opened, revealing you in an oversized t-shirt Jungkook had lent you.

“Do you need something?”

His heart ached. Even until the last moment was he the first thing you were concerned about.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Oh…come on in then, I guess.”

He slipped past you into the room and plopped onto your bed, thinking of all the times he had done the exact same thing back in Los Angeles whenever he had something important to tell you.

“So, um, I’m really sorry about how I reacted today.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand.”

“Oh.” He grew silent, unsure of what to say next. “I just wanted to tell you that…that I missed you too. So much. The past three years was hell for me, no, it was worse than hell. And I was just so shocked when you showed up I didn’t know how to react. You really hurt me deep, you know, and I didn’t want to feel like that again. So I acted the way I did. And I’m so sorry, for that, for leaving, for everything. But I would really like to have you back now.”

You stared at him for a while, before opening your mouth, “I guess both of us have a bad habit of barging into each other’s rooms to make deep confessions.”

“Yeah, I guess.” he chuckled, knowing from twenty years of experience, and your soft tone that you had forgiven him. That you already had a long time ago. “So we’re even?”

“I guess.”


You watched as the guests started to stream in through the entrance behind a closed mahogany door. They settled around the circular tables, looking for their own nameplate. As they bumped into someone they recognized, a close friend, or an acquaintance, their eyes lit up, and soon were involved in a light conversation of how are you’s, what have you been doing, and topics as such.

You removed your attention from the tiny crack you had managed to create, and stepped back, heart beating at an incredible pace inside your rib cage. The ceremony was about to start, and the mere thought made you feel lightheaded, but in a good way. You were happy. Hell, you had never been this overjoyed in your life. You didn’t think this day would arrive so soon.

But as you had learned since a little more than three years ago, life was full of surprises.

You didn’t suspect a thing before he dropped to his knees that night on the cruise you guys were taking to Greece, his hair decorated by starlight. You especially didn’t expect yourself going to say “yes”. You were sure that when the words fell out of your mouth, the person that was most shocked was not him, who looked up at you, tears of joy in threatening to spill out from the corners of his eyes. It was you. But you still said it, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. If you could go back once more, you would let the events play out exactly the way it did, and give him exactly the same response. If you went back a thousand times, you would remove your hand from your lips to choke out a quiet “yes, I will” a thousand times, just the way you had. For him, you would do it a thousand times and over.

Out of your peripherals, you spotted him, your fiancé, standing by the entrance through the sliver in the door. He wore a genuine beam on his face, much like yet unlike the one he usually had on. His delicate features were made even more beautiful by the sunlight that poured into the enormous hall. He greeted the guests that walked in, bowing his head politely at every single one of them, and shaking their hand. The tuxedo he wore accentuated his broad shoulders, the same ones you rested on a million times before.

You sat back down to the plushy chair when you heard your stylist call your name. She leaned over your face, a palette in one hand and a thin brush in the other, and continued with your makeup in short, gentle strokes.

As she went through with her last finishing touches, she warned playfully, “You better not cry and ruin my masterpiece. This took 5 hours.” Then she winked at you, and mouthed, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you” was all you could manage. Your heart continued pounding.

And it did not cease to race as you waited, hidden behind a pair of large, wooden doors. You inhaled several lungfuls of air to adjust your breathing, and you wiped your sweaty hands across the curve on your gorgeous white dress, the embellishments scratching your palms. You broke out in a light sweat when the orchestra began their symphony, the fast paced beat matching your own heart rate. The doors opened.

The first person you saw was him.

He stood nobly on the opposite end of the aisle, not looking nearly as nervous as you felt. But you could tell from the almost unnoticeable creases at the sides of his pants where his arms fell, and the way he clutched tightly to the openings of his sleeves that he felt exactly the way you did.

“Is this really happening?” your dad wondered besides you, his eyes glossy with joy.

“I guess so.”

As you took your first steps, all the memories you held of him came flashing through your mind. The first time you caught his gaze, the first time he confessed how he felt about you, your first date, your first kiss, your first night… All of it flooded your emotions at once, and if you didn’t remember what your stylist had said to you, you would’ve let the tears fall. But you gripped the bouquet in your hands harder instead and held it in.

Before you realized, you were at the front of the aisle. You turned around to face the standing guests, all of them looking at you with proud, loving, and thankful expressions. When they eventually sat down, you turned your body again to face him. You could feel him examining your face through the veil, and you gave him a reassuring smile while squeezing his hand. He squeezed yours in return.

The rest of the ceremony whizzed past your memory in a hazy blur. You vaguely remembered saying your vows, and a ghost of his kiss still lingered on your lips. But the rest was already beyond you. You sat next to him, fingers intertwined, stared at the glass of champagne on the table in front of you as you tried to recollect the events. Nothing.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you’re all elated to be here, and are also very stuffed thanks to our newly wedded couple,” Yoongi gestured at two of you, and you blushed and looked down in embarrassment. “So before I say anything more, let’s all raise a toast to the happy pair, and wish them…”

The next thirty minutes continued like that, although you didn’t mind. Each of the six remaining BTS members rose, one after another, to give you guys their blessings. And you were very thankful for that, for they were perhaps the most important and meaningful people in your life now.

He stood up last, cheeks already a bit flushed with the pink tinge of alcohol. He steadily walked up to the stage, and placed his hands on the microphone the way he had done millions of times during their concerts.

“So I’m sure that our new couple have heard enough blessing for an entire lifetime in the past half an hour,” he started, and the crowd chuckled. “But I would still like to do it again. I am very close with both of them, and they mean more to me than anyone can imagine. He is my band mate, my brother. We’ve been through more than our fair share of thick and thin, yet here we are today. And she…” he paused, as if recollecting his thoughts, “she is an inseparable piece of me. There is no other way to describe her, and there is no other like her. And I would now like to congratulate them, as well as wish a happy and prosperous marriage, and life, to my dear brother and my best friend.”

He started to step off the stage, but turned back and grabbed the microphone again. “I would like to say something to the bride,” he stared straight at you, and his gaze burned, “(Y/N), we’ve had history together. I admit that it’s complicated, and I admit that I have loved you, and maybe i still love you, and perhaps a small part of me will continue loving you until eternity ceases to exist. But I guess we’re just not meant to be. I’m so glad for you, really. At least one of us deserves a happy ending, right?”

I guess no matter how hard we try, no matter how hard I try, fate just cannot intertwine our lives together the way I hoped, not even for just one day. We were just not meant to be.

A single tear ran down his cheek, but Hoseok beamed at you and your husband through his tears as he spoke the last few words into the microphone.

“Jungkook-ah, take good care of her.”

“Yes hyung, I will. I promise.”

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH DID YOU GUYS LIKE THE ENDING?? DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS GOING TO GIVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING AS THE ANGSTY PERSON I AM?? NOOOOOO!! but hey, i was going to post this tomorrow, but i did it early bc i couldn’t wait to read about your reactions lol. HAHAHA i hope you guys like it!!

A/N: im sorry if im not responding to requests right now. i will try to, but im am currently working on another series (yes, it will be super angsty again. *wink wink nudge nudge*) I hope you guys can look forward to that!!

Kai; More Than Enough (Scenario)

The door creaked open and you could almost hear yourself cursing as you tried your very best to open it better, softer, in other words. You stepped through the gap ever so carefully, as if you were robbing this house but…you lived here, anyway. You quickly turned around and gently closed the door, hearing a silent click before you could actually lock the door. With a satisfied sigh, you smiled and stepped back, turning to face the dining table. You leaned forward, placing your things on it and you hissed inwardly when you made another clink on the glass.

You hurriedly pulled back and placed the bag on the leather chair instead – much better.

You let out an inaudible exhale before taking off your jacket. At least this wouldn’t make much noise at all. You placed the jacket over on the clothes stand and then you turned around.

Had you really been this oblivious all this while? Initially, you had planned to go to the bedroom where you’d definitely find your boyfriend lazing in the bed or even sleeping, at this hour. But, all was erased from your mind when you see him dozing off on the sofa lazily. His cheek pressed against the arm rest as if he hadn’t plan on falling asleep and his eyelids were heavily shut. One of his arms were by his side while the other dangled off the sofa, his knuckles touching the floor since he was that tall.

You suppressed a sigh, feeling pity for the latter because he looked so tired yet he had decided to wait out here, for you.

Work had ended late again as usual and needless to say, you had the shift to lock up, being the last one to leave. With a text message you sent to Jongin, you remembered informing him to sleep first and you’d join later.

Little did you know, the reply came in late and you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You fished out your phone and immediately spot the text message that Jongin had sent twenty minutes ago. After unlocking your phone, your thumb tapped on the message and it revealed;

‘Remember to take care of yourself and be careful, alright angel? I’ll be waiting for you regardless of anything so make sure you make it home to me. I love you.’
11.23p.m. || Jong

You shook your head and put your phone aside by the coffee table, not caring if it made a sound because you cared more for Jongin now. You kneeled down beside him on the sofa, careful not to kneel on his hand on the floor. You saw how dark there were circles under his eyes and really, you felt uneasy because of this. He was so busy now with his schedules – he rarely got enough sleep like how he needed it; even more than you, truthfully. Concerts, tours, practices – and yet he still maintained in one piece.

Your hand instinctively reached over and stroked the back of his head, smiling a bit as you appreciated him and his presence. With a loving voice, you had decided to coo out, “Jongin…”

There wasn’t much movement because he was such a heavy sleeper. You could only take note of his breathing still shallow, not moving an inch as he lied like this on his stomach. You couldn’t just leave him like this because in the next morning, his jaw would hurt and definitely, it wouldn’t be nice to feel in the next day. To prevent that, you needed to get him to bed.

You used your other hand to shake him by the shoulder, delicately calling for him, “Jongin, wake up… You can’t sleep here like this.”

You could hear something that could be considered as a mumble and when you leaned in closer, you could hear him mumbling your name. As sweet as that sounded to you, it still didn’t stop you from waking him up.

“Jongin, c’mon… Wake up and we’ll sleep together in bed.”

It wasn’t long that his eyes slowly peeled open, a groan left his lips first as he turned over to his side. His back pressed against the back of the couch and his eyes were still closed as he had just woken up. You stayed there and watched him as he rubbed his eyes with both hands and you noticed how he had discomfort at his arm already – imagine if he slept through the whole night.

“A-Angel? You’re back…” He said groggily, attempting to sit up and he managed to do so in one go. He frowned and moved his hands away from his face, “Crap, I fell asleep?”

He looked at you for confirmation and you gave a mere nod.

He shook his head with a groan, “S-Sorry. I just-“

“Why are you apologizing, Jongin-ah?” You mumbled softly, standing up as you stood before him with a smile. His eyes blurry but soon they focused on your beauty before him. He looked up to you as you framed his face in your hands delicately. The warmth of your palms that rubbed against his cheeks promised him love and clarity.

“You’re tired and… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, either. You shouldn’t wait up for me, Jongin-ah… You have practice tomorrow.”

You saw that pout of his before his long arms made their way around your waist. He made your hands slip away from his cheeks as he buried his face in your stomach, his arms tugging around you tight. What made your heart swoon was his voice that sounded so sincere, “But I’ve missed you… so, so much….” He glanced up, pressing his chin on your skin whilst his words were half-mumbled, “I had to see my angel awake and also, I want to be able to have that feeling of hugging you in my arms as I fall asleep.”

You raked a hand through his hair, while the other rested on the top of his back, “Why don’t we go do that now, hm? Let’s go to bed now.”

He blinked up to you sleepily, “You’re not going to change?”

You shook your head with a tired grin, “I’m too lazy, really.”

He had this look on his face that showed he had no objections, “Agreed.”

He stood up and effortlessly carried you in his arms, making you squeal as you held onto him. He chuckled sheepishly and slowly made his way towards your bedroom, his confession echoing into your ears, “Man, I’ve missed that…”

You leaned closer and murmured on his skin, “What about this?” Your lips soon planted a kiss on his cheek after, making him sigh as he lied you down on the bed. He looked down on you and tucked strands of your hair behind your ear as you rested your head on the pillow, “I miss that too.”

You patted the space beside you, “Then join me quick.”

He had that happy grin of a five year old who had gotten a cookie for doing something right and it made you smile out of bliss nevertheless. He quickly joined you on the bed, lying down by your side and his arms wrapped around you without hesitation once you pulled up the covers. He tugged you backwards in one swift motion, making your back meet with his chest as he loomed his head over your shoulder to come closer. He gave you a kiss on the side of your head and his low voice could be heard in the silent room, “I love you, angel.”

You smiled and rubbed your hands on his arms that promised safety, nodding as you glanced over your shoulder when he leaned back just a bit to rest his head on the pillow, “I love you too, Jongin.”

He grinned when you stared into his eyes and the both of you had managed to share a kiss. The kiss assured that things would be fine as long as the two of you love each other. It didn’t matter how busy he was now nor how much work you had as well. It didn’t matter that the both of you wouldn’t be able to see each other every now and then because of his career and it didn’t matter even more especially when he’s always assuring you that he loves you.

As the both of you parted ways from the kiss, he had the last move by pecking your lips once more and then inching up to kiss your forehead. His hushed voice had murmured the words, “Sleep well, my angel.”

And with a small nod and smile from you, your head turned to face forward where your eyes closed, falling into a deep slumber with the person you had love most. It didn’t matter if he would be gone in the next morning because of his schedule and it didn’t matter if you wouldn’t have his loving embrace to welcome you because you knew, this was enough.

Kim Jongin, was more than enough.

Яevolution: Cardfight!! Vanguard minific

Reversed OTP time. Draws on a couple of thingies from Pixiv that brought about the idea. Could be taken as a Bad End to Яevise, or as a standalone piece. A sequel/partner fanfic, Яebellion, is in the works to go with that’ll go on the aftermath and the action brought up, focusing more on the others that get left behind here. This is more setting the stage and planning for the revolution.

Main Character(s): Sendou Aichi/Link Joker Aichi, Kai Toshiki/Link Joker Kai, Ishida Naoki

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The drone in my ear, it’s like the tornado drill in elementary school, the hand-cranked siren that rang mercilessly, all of us hunched over on ourselves, facing the basement walls, heads tucked into our chests. Beth and me wedged tight, jeaned legs pressed against each other. The sounds of our own breathing. Before we all stopped believing a tornado, or anything, could touch us, ever.

(Happy Birthday to my darling heart Jess)

anonymous asked:

SoMa "We both trued to rob a bank at the same time" AU

Forever cleaning prompts out of my ask box. I got a little carried away with this one. I don’t even know. I know nothing about banks or robbing them.


Today’s the day, and Crona is freaking out.

“I can’t do it,” they say, twining slender fingers into choppy pink hair. “I don’t know how to handle this at all.”

Maka places gentle hands on either side of her friend’s face. “Do you want to go over the plan again? Will that make you feel better?”

Gray eyes meet green and Crona nods.

“I’m going to go inside,” Maka says. “You just wait out here and don’t move. When you hear the alarm, you look for me to come out right there.” She points at an alleyway entrance up the road. “You coast up to meet me, I get in the car, and we leave. That’s all. Okay?”

Crona’s breathing calms, but their eyes still flit side to side. “It’s never that easy. There’s always more noise and yelling and bad, bad things. Ragnarok always made a scene.”

“You’re not with Ragnarok anymore, sweetheart. You’re with me, and like I told you, after this, we’ll be all paid up with enough left over to take us wherever we want to go.” She smiles.

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.” Maka holds out her pinky and Crona reluctantly curls their own finger around hers with a shaky grin.

She glances at her watch. “It’s time. Are you good?”

Crona sighs. “As long as you’re with me, I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll be with you.” She leans in and presses a kiss to Crona’s forehead before slipping out of the car.

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It is the same everywhere for me:
On the docks at Sierra Leone,
In the cotton fields of Alabama,
In the diamond mines of Kimberley,
On the coffee hills of Haiti,
The banana lands of Central America,
The streets of Harlem,
And the cities of Morocco and Tripoli.

Black, exploited, beaten and robbed,
Shot and killed.
Blood running into


For the wealth of the exploiters
Blood that: never comes back to me again.
Better that my blood
Runs into the deep channels of Revolution,
Runs into the strong hands of Revolution,
Stains all flags red,
Drives me away from

Sierra Leone
Central America

And all the black lands everywhere.
The force that kills,
The power that robs,
And the greed that does not care.

Better that my blood makes one with the blood
Of all the struggling workers in the world
Till every land is free of

Dollar robbers
Pound robbers
Franc robbers
Peseta robbers
Lire robbers
Life robbers

Until the Red Armies of the International Proletariat
Their faces, black, white, olive, yellow, brown,
Unite to raise the blood-red flag that
Never will come down!

—  “Always the Same”, Langston Hughes

guyssss let’s talk about the fact that in that funeral shot rob looked so traumatised by literally everything and you could see the horror on his face and what does aaron do? aaron dingle reaches his hand out and comforts robert, makes him know that he is there and that everything is okay just like robert did for him in that damn car. he honestly just scoops his hand into robert’s and pours all his love into him to make robert feel better. they held hands guys!!

-four- part 2

“You’re so wet,” I murmured in her ear as she hung on to me for dear life, trying not to notice how good it felt to have her pussy opened by my hard shaft. “So wet and so hot.”

“What do you expect?” she snapped, looking totally embarrassed now. “After the way you were kissing me and…and touching me earlier?”

I smirked at her irritable tone. “So you liked it when I fingered your pussy?” I hissed. “Did it turn you on, Rob? Did it make you hot when I stroked your clit and put my fingers inside you?”

My desire for Robyn had just sky rocketed and my heart was jackhammering again as I fought keep control of myself. My breath kept wanting to come in short little pants, like I was running a race uphill. It was all I could do to keep myself together. “We had to get the best shot,” she said, not looking at me and deliberately ducking the question. “She wanted to get a picture of you…touching me, so you had to touch me. That was all.”

“But you liked the way it felt when I fingered you? It made you wet – right?” I persisted.

“What do you think?” she demanded. Deliberately, she raised and then lowered herself so that my shaft and the broad head of my cock slid over her slippery folds and the throbbing bud of her clit. Robyn and I both groaned at the extra stimulation, and I knew my shaft was probably coated with her pussy honey by now.

It was a single motion to prove a point, but Lisa noticed it at once. “That’s good,” she said excitedly, still snapping away. “Do that some more – act like you’re riding him, Robyn. Chris, put your hands on her waist and help her move – both of you get into it.”

What could we do? Robyn braced her hands on my shoulders and began to slide up and down. I’m sure from Lisa’s perspective it looked like I was actually inside Robyn’s, like we were actually fucking, and even though we weren’t, it was still almost more than I could bear. The friction of my shaft against her clit was delicious, and I could feel the pleasure building inside me again as she bounced on my lap. But once again Lisa intervened.

“Slower now,” she directed. “Long, slow strokes. This can be almost tantric – if you do it right, you can make it last for hours. Slow it.”  

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm out and unable to watch the preview so if it's no bother what's it like? I trust that you're always sensible and don't freak out too much :P thanks!

Hey nonnie!!!

I got u babe

Bex and Rob are chilling at Home Farm, drinking and talking about business - Rob has apparently just used his Ultra Charming Powers of Charm™ to flirt his way into or out of something and he’s feeling all chuffed with himself. Because Robert Sugden doesn’t understand modesty when it comes to 1) his business prowess and 2) his ability to charm people. It’s great.

Bex tells him to wipe his smug smile off his smug face (but in a much friendlier manner) and they have some banter because they’re friends and it’s all just v platonic and sweet and my soul ascends because it’s 2017 Robert finally has a friend and it only took 3 years #blessed

Rob picks up his phone and notices that he has a missed call from his husband-to-be. He literally immediately drops everything and says he should go. Then he starts acting sort of shifty and mentions to Bex that she probably… shouldn’t mention that they’ve still been doing business.

Bex, like any normal person, immediately asks what’s up, because she just assumed that Aaron was completely in the loop and informed of the fact that Rob is still giving Bex a hand (and making money for himself and Aaron in the process)

Rob, knowing that Aaron would react… not all that great… to Robert hanging out with his one lone friend, has obviously decided to just… conveniently… we’ll, you know, lie to Aaron about it. All he says to Bex is that it’s better if Aaron doesn’t know - but he’s all shifty and weird and guilty about it and he just… he’s clearly not feeling all that great about this lie




(i’ll stop)

… uh anyway, Rob says that it’s better that Aaron doesn’t know that he and Bex are still business buddies and in the soapiest of soap timings, this is when Aaron turns up with a face like thunder.

Aaron stares at Rob and then basically tells him in his Angry Voice - as well as Bex - that all Rob does is lie lie lie. He literally walked into HF hot and he’s ready to kick off. He probably spent the whole drive up listening to angry music and getting himself pumped. This can only end in tears (or rather, Aaron getting drunk on whiskey bc pain and punching Kasim in his pretty face)

Rob’s face does that little thing where everything drops in shock and/or panic (you know the one) because oooop #busted

And then it cuts to black because they’re not gonna spoil the blow up just yet but… I mean look, there’s gonna be some yelling. They’re gonna do some yelling. It’s gonna be angsty af and we’re probably gonna cry but also it’s gonna be great because hey at least they’re probably going to yell their honest feelings at one another which they haven’t done in a while lbr

Anyway, rating: 7/10 would definitely recommend a viewing unless you’re not a fan of drama and angst in which case it’s ok next week I will be available for hugs and somewhat subpar comfort because you just know it’s gonna be a damn rollercoaster but honestly it’s gonna be great they’re gonna argue and then they’re gonna have a crisis talk to try and save their relationship and then THE POPO ARE GONNA WRECK SOME SHIT and everyone is gonna be sad im so ready