see how they can't stop looking at each other in the top two

Hogwarts Headcannons
  • Give me Dean, muggleborn that he is, imitating Steve Irwin in Care of Magical Creatures class, much to everyone's confusion except for Harry and Hermione who are. On the ground. Unable to breathe. And refusing to explain why.
  • Give me Harry, demisexual that he is, realizing that the reason he can't stop obsessing over Draco is because Draco is the one who saw - and subsequently disliked - 'Harry', and not The Boy Who Lived. Realizing that Draco was the only one to first talk to him for HIM, in that robe shop, and not his parents or fame (because even Ron and Hermione did that at first). And thus, leading to him randomly starting crying in the middle of lunch and claiming he's doomed, much to everyone's fear.
  • Give me Seamus, pyro that he is, super happy one Christmas when Hermione buys him a book on fire caution, flammable materials, and elements such as magnesium. Thus afterward, the mysterious fires that have always happened are far more safe and controlled.
  • Give me Luna, wonderful airhead that she is, being stared at as, calm as anything, she waltzes right into the Slytherin common room and starts talking to the mermaids like its absolutely normal. A first year drops a book he's staring so hard, because HOW DID SHE KNOW THE PASSWORD. Draco just sighs, gets up, goes over to her, and offers her tea.
  • Give me Draco. Who looks on as Neville offers Harry rhubarb pie that he made himself, as Harry stares forlornly at his Treacle Tart, and makes and annoyed sound. "Dammit Longbottom he hates bittersweets." The Slytherins stare and Pansy just mutters "How do you even know these things. Merlin, help him realize."
  • Give me Parvati, who is being constantly mistaken for her sister by Ron, who panics and screams "IM A LESBIAN" when it gets to be too much.
  • Give me Ron, who stares wide-eyed from a distance whenever he sees Padma from that moment on for a full week, until Padma flips out too and hexes him. Parvati awkwardly wonders why Ron starts getting scared whenever she tries to approach from then on, since she knows Ron doesn't have problems due to that sort of thing from how he handles Harry.
  • Give me the thirty or so of the school's Muggle-raised, who made the mistake of showing their folks howlers, and react accordingly whenever one of the families sends one that is just a recording of Rick Astley, or High School Musical, or spoilers for Doctor Who. And the Wizard-raised just... staring... in fear... watching their savior and multiple other students as they run around screaming and crying in an absolute panic for some reason even though it was a different student that got the weird howler.
  • Give me Harry, whose hair surprises people by being dark red like his mother's when in direct sunlight. And usually at the Weasley den they're inside, but one day Harry joins them outside for a picnic, and Molly is so confused about where Harry went to then has do do a mental tally of her children.
  • Give me George, who in the midst of the final battle, hit Lucius with an Anaticula curse, so that every spell he tries makes a duck instead. And the Death Eaters are just so confused. "Lucius... is that a duck?"
  • Give me the Gryffindor common room. The new first years suggest Monopoly for game night. The entire room goes dead silent. One first year tries to ask what they did wrong. "Never mention that game again," is the only response they get. "But why-" "NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR." Their brave upperclassman Neville yells, trembling. Hermione starts crying. Harry goes into a panic attack. Ron whispers, "There are many reasons we don't talk about sixth year. If The Incident had been the only thing that happened, we would only not talk about The Incident. Many things happened that year. Thus, we do not speak of that year, or of that game."
  • Give me McGonagall, who struggles to control the cat population, because while students are told to have their cats fixed you know not all 100 students that brought cats did so. Her curling up around a litter that lost their mother to illness. Training them to stalk the corridors. Albus had his ways of getting information, and hers is the spy network of cats.
  • Give me muggleborns singing everything from Phantom of the Opera to Katy Perry in the corridors. Singing We Will Rock You to a pureblood who disses them for it. The purebloods thinking the weird songs and their tunes are some kind of Rite of Passage and fleeing whenever a muggleborn student starts singing. Altering song lyrics. "I throw my ferret in the air some-times, singin EEEEEEEYO, this is DRAAAAAACO!"
  • Give me muggleborns that are really confused about the whole quill instead of pens things, throwing transfigured pokeballs in Care of Magical Creatures, the band students bringing kazoos and harmonicas and the wizard-raised students that are just so confused as to how those things even work, because it must be some sort of air magic, right??
  • Give me muggleborns making entire conversations out of pop culture references specifically to confuse some Slytherin who just called one girl a Mudblood. "These are not the droids you were looking for." "I'm right on top of that now Rose, I promise." -jazz hands-
  • Give me muggleborns with Patronus that are things like Pikachu, velociraptors, the quiet Canadian transfer student with a moose patronus the size of a SMALL HOUSE, the one whose is a angeled-out Castiel, the one whose patronus is the democrat donkey and another the republican elephant and the two, previously best friends, become mortal enemies rivaling the fame of Harry and Draco.
  • Give me muggleborns hugging each other before break, promising to 'call' each other, trading weird codes, how they can't wait to go for 'sushi' or planning that trip together to 'disneyland' where they can go flying?? But no one's allowed magic?? Or flying?? And the wizard-raised think that somehow, shockingly, these children totally new to our world have developed a way to cheat the system??
  • Give me muggleborns who are fully aware that the anti-tech wards were made when, like, radios barely even existed, much less cellphone towers and microprocessors, so while they can't turn them on inside the stone school walls there's this group that Harry joins constantly that just sit there in silence staring at these tiny things and sometimes randomly laughing hysterically, and every now and then standing and just running all the way across to the other side of the lake all at the same time with no signal whatsoever. The purebloods are terrified of this frequent happening.
  • Give me Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Justin from the D.A, muggleborns they are, doing a movie night every week to help the D.A. relax and bond. They re-start this after the battles, during eighth year, with several other people such as the returned Slytherins joining in. The entire year they play things like Tangled, The Breakfast Club, Brave, Lion King. But then the last four weeks, they announce they don't want to mislead everyone that everything is all fun and rainbows. The last four movies are My Sister's Keeper, The Shining, Marley and Me, and for the last week, a marathon of the entire Jurassic Park series.
  • Give me Hufflepuffs, who secretly are very relieved to be the 'normal' House. Jocks over there, know-it-alls over there, goth wannabees over there, now lets go camp out by the kitchens we're gonna need it to survive the next seven years like this.
  • Give me Ravenclaws who are so done with the riddles when they stumble back at midnight after having fallen asleep in the Library. "What's the truth?" "THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN."
  • Give me the Trio, who use the Marauder's Map to find the most absolutely ridiculous routes to class, knowing every single one of the shortcuts. It's not odd for them to simply appear out of the ceiling. One day the new first years try to follow them, to learn the school better, but it doesn't go so well because then they try to go through a disappearing wall the Trio just did they instead run headfirst into it, and the next time they do behind a tapestry, down a waterside, around some sort of tower, causally past an entire doorless room full of bats, and somehow come out on the complete other side of the castle.
  • Give me Draco whose just completely had it with Harry's staring and confronts him, like they always do, and Harry just blurts out that he likes Draco's new haircut and can he touch his hair, and Draco so shocked he lets him. "Potter stop treating me like a cat I'm evil remember? Bloody hell have you gone daft?!" "But... it's soft..." "I hate you." But he just can't find any anger over this, so there's like no venom whatsoever in it and Harry can't stop giggling.
  • Give me Ginny, who can't stop giggling as Luna confuses the fuck out of an entire crowd with her way of speaking, and who during seventh year could 100% get away with insulting the Death Eaters because of the way she said things. Who after Luna used said tactic to get her out of a Crucio punishment just clung to Luna, shaking, and realizing that she loves Luna so much for this very reason. That there will never be another person like Luna in her life, ever.
  • Give me Harry, who was not really well educated while living at the Dursleys, who couldn't read very well but was wonderful at sneaking around, little tricks like hiding things, and loved music. He taught himself magic tricks, and MERLIN ALMIGHTY THIS 11 YEAR OLD KID HAS MASTERED VANISHING SPELLS, WHAT, HOW, and Percy, uptight prefect he is, just looses it.
  • Give me Ron walking in on Harry talking to some random snake in their dorm room, laughing like the snake said a particularly good joke, tipping his head and smiling as he responds, the python slowly curling up his arm to rest over his shoulder. Ron freezes, stares, and then slowly backs away, closes the door and stands there staring at it for a full half hour in absolute horror.
  • Give me the rest of the D.A. walking into the Room of Requirement and hearing screaming, Dean shrieking that he's going to murder someone, Hermione crying, Justin cursing like a sailor yelling for everyone to stop, and the rest panic and run around the corner and there the four Muggle-raised students are. With some sort of odd device in their hands. Playing Mario Kart.
Can't Stop, Won't Stop

Pairing: Derek x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes by @itsall-inmy-head

Warnings: Sex, fingering, Daddy kink, spanking, NSFW 18+

A/N: Enjoy lovies❤️ I also apologize to @itsall-inmy-head because I got an incy wincy bit carried around.

masterlist / coming soon

Originally posted by songsoftheheartless

The growing heat along your body was growing with every passing second, your skin was dancing with goosebumps as you heard the voice of your Alpha through the locked door. Derek was in the middle of a pack meeting, and since you were in heat, he had to keep you in his bedroom for safe keeping.

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mark tuan as your boyfriend

Originally posted by ceohan

mark tuan as your boyfriend | 1,000 words

  • would be the Cutest and Softest Boyfriend ever
  • always wanting to cuddle or hold your hand and always looking out for you and thinking about you
  • one of his favorite past times is to wrap his arms around your waist, pull you in close and take a nap
  • he’d also be a super chill boyfriend too!! like Mark would be 101% happy with just staying home to cuddle and exchange kisses all day with you instead of going out
  • but he would like going out sometimes to spice thing up like from relaxing dates at the park or the beach where you two would just enjoy the scenery while snuggling closely to each other
  • of course he’d also take you out on exciting dates too filled with adventure like kayaking, skydiving, or going to an amusement park with extreme rollercoasters… only if you were down though

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Hey so I’m thinking about Kara and M’gann again and I wrote some stuff because goddamn it I am gonna build this city from the ground up if it’s the last thing I do.

strange girls in a strange land

It’s never a secret. For the first time in Kara’s thirteen years on Earth, there’s no great revelation. There isn’t anything to reveal.

This weight that she’s carried with her into every relationship outside the Danvers that she’s ever tried to build since she landed—it suddenly becomes inconsequential, when they’re together. The fact that Kara is Kryptonian, that she is Supergirl. The distinction between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El and National City’s resident hero. The deception; the disguise.

There’s no pretense between them, no pretending, no parts to play. They meet in the ring as Supergirl and Miss Martian, and then a few days later Kara Danvers shows up at the alien bar—and M’gann knows. It’s not something she needs to deduce or figure out after they’ve known each other a while. She just looks at Kara and she knows—it’s just a simple unconscious observation, as clear to see as the gold of Kara’s hair or the blue of her eyes.

M’gann slides Kara an Aldebaran rum and Kara doesn’t even realize that she’s still wearing her glasses.

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anonymous asked:

can u write one from josh's pov where he is madly in love with y/n but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that josh is just always going to be y/n's best friend

authors note: all i could think when reading this prompt was Jim and Pam, so that’s kind of what I loosely based this off from. This is a longerish fic, hopefully what you were looking for.  Enjoy!


“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Josh hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand.  You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused.  A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail.  You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Josh’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory.  “I beat you by like four feet!”

Josh stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Josh leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row.  “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”  

You laugh, shaking your head at Josh’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.  

Josh watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away.  He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind.  He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to contain all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Josh’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you.  Josh would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building.  Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.  

You and Josh had been friends ever since you started working in Columbus two years ago.  Two entire years, and Josh still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.  

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out.  He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with.  His soulmate, if you will.  Josh had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning.   He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor.  It was a cold December morning when he saw Lucas for the first time.  Then of course he didn’t know his name.  He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with broad shoulders and a trimmed beard.  He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot.  Josh had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.  

That was two years ago, and Josh still hadn’t moved on.  How could he when you sat only feet away from him?  Spreading your infectious laugh and always there to make him smile?  No, Josh hadn’t moved on.  Instead, he’d just learned to live with it.  He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside.  It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Josh for the longest time.

But falling also hurt.  You were his everything. And you were his best friend. You told each other everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you.  On that first day, even if she didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there were no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

Josh sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Josh quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Lucas and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Josh’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name.  ”What about you?“

“One of my biggest clients is a morning person, if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, his account is as good as closed, so I wanted to get here early and go over his file.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Josh says with a smile.

You chuckle and then looked over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Josh didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Josh furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Josh,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distance hills on the east side of town. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings of Columbus went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Josh glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Josh could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time his saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Josh says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view.  “I’m freezing.”

Josh nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.  

It’s habit, more than anything else, that has Josh lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy.  And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Lucas, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.  

Josh had served as the backboard for you since he met you.  He was always around to listen.  Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Lucas had been fighting more and more lately.  He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.  

Apparently last night had been bad.  Josh can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.  

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway.  “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night.  He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Josh said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything.  But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left.  Went to my moms.  I think it’s over.  I mean, it has to be, right?”

Josh wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.  

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous.  You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.  

“I should get back to work.”

Josh has a hard time focusing the rest of the day.  It was over.  You said that.  It was over and maybe, just maybe, Josh had a chance here.  He’d be your friend first, of course.  Just like it’d always had been.  He wouldn’t rush you.  But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him.  He was elated.  Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.  

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Josh’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Lucas walk through the doors.  He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil.  But he watches from his desk instead, as Lucas makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.  

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that?  Fear?  It fades quickly, morphs into anger.  Then sympathy.  Josh watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him up to reception.  You mutter something to the secretary before continuing out the door without looking back.  

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere.  I think he really meant it.”

Josh nods and takes another swig of coffee, which was lukewarm by now.  He cringes.  

“Sounds it,” he says dully.  Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.  

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.  Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Lucas kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before.  It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Lucas.  He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time?  Perfume?  Same story, different version.  Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Josh walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone.  He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Josh, it’s Craig from Corporate.  Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about a job opening here in Detroit.  It’d be a promotion for you.  More pay, more duties, all that.  Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested.  Thanks.”

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart.  It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Josh with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Josh that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends.  He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore.  So he gave himself an ultimatum.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.  

The words hang thickly in the air.  “I love you, Y/N.  I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise.  And for a quick second, Josh thinks you might say it back.  But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection.  It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and  “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Josh—“

But that’s all. Because Josh clearly doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Lucas has never held you like you’re this precious.  It’s gentle  and firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Josh—“ you say, finally pulling back.  

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroys your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Lucas and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Josh, but you maybe don’t love Josh, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.  


You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on client calls — you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, it’s the permanence of it that hurts.  

As you settle in that first day of Josh’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Josh Dun.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Josh-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and

you doodle in notebook margins during conference room meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.  

As the day goes on, regret floods deeper within you.  You always knew Josh was your best friend.  But you probably always always knew he was more than that too.  You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Lucas.  This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall.  It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be.  You thought there’d be a Lucas-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not.  Instead, it just makes room for Josh’s hole to grow bigger.  

It’s twenty past five and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh, oh.

“Oh my god.”


“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Josh when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Mark.  It’s a co-client thing—”


“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Josh had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past five because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get an machine instead.  

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice.  “Wow, they’ve really changed you Y/L/N.  Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Josh and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in their relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.


You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing Columbus and Detroit that’s currently between them.

It took you until the next morning to get your act together.  You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it.  A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket.  You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Josh.  One from back before the airplane competition, where they’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on reception.  You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something.  Josh had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.  

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car.  You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Josh’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue.  It all floods in at once.  The despair, the guilt, the regret.  But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.  

You didn’t think twice as you flicked your blinker on to turn onto the highway headed towards Detroit.

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window.  You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Josh when the time came.  But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the Detroit branch, sliding into the spot beside Josh’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now.  No Lucas or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Josh had just had enough?  What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Josh.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him taking off his headset and standing up from his desk.  “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.  

You couldn’t tell him here.  You had to go somewhere more private.  

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar dark blue fabric hanging off from the back of his chair.  You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Josh in your head.  

“How’s Detroit?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you.  You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Josh chuckles, “Common, Y/N.  You didn’t drive three and a half hours to Detroit to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t.  But you still didn’t know what to say to him.  To Josh.  The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit.  You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining.  You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Josh didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the office isn’t the same and… I miss you.  I miss you a lot, Josh. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. “I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could be friends now. Just go back to the way things were—“ you weren’t sure why you were burying your feelings again, but it was instinctual.  

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides.  ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore.  It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

This morning you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Josh, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to Detroit.  I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Josh, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you say, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you.  I have loved you but I was with Lucas and I was afraid and I didn’t know it.  And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late.  But the look on Josh’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m gonna get going.  It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Josh saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Josh from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Josh from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Lucas. Lucas took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Josh was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you.  He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.  He hugged her so tightly he almost picked you up off from the ground.

Olicity Honeymoon ficlet

Originally posted by moonhaeun

“You need more sunscreen.”

She shrugged, turning to look at her shoulder from where she laid on her stomach. She was getting a little red. “Do you mind?” she asked, picking up the bottle and already knowing the answer. He sat up, taking it from her hands and squeezing some of it into his palm.

Felicity pulled her hair over her shoulder and put her head down, closing her eyes and enjoying the slow and gentle way he worked his fingers over her back, neck and arms. She knew he wasn’t even trying to turn her on, just being an overly protective husband as he made sure that every inch of her skin was covered. But then he moved on to her legs, giving her backside a tender squeeze as he slid his fingers over her skin.

She giggled, moving her arm so she could look up at him. Oliver smiled back, leaning over to kiss her nose before he dropped back down onto the blanket beside her. She watched him for a moment, sprawled out on his back, angling his face up at the sun and closing his eyes. 

“It’s not fair that you can get so tan, and I have to put on six layers of sunblock and I still come home looking like a lobster.” 

His mouth twitched with a smile, “yeah, aloe is not nearly as sexy to put you when every time I touch you, you say ‘ow.’”

She rolled her eyes, “you’d think the burns would turn into a tan. But nope. Just back to pasty… and then it starts all over again with the next one.”

He raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes closed as he spoke, “I told you we could try somewhere cold.”

She scrunched her nose, “Freezing to death in a blizzard doesn’t sound very fun or romantic to me.”

“I was thinking more like a cozy resort on a mountain in Norway. I could teach you how to ski during the day and then we could curl up in front of fire at night.”

Felicity hit his arm, “well why didn’t you say that before!?”

He huffed, “because I said ‘Felicity, I think we should take a honeymoon,’ and you said ‘Boo yeah! I’m packing my bags, see ya in Bermuda, baby!’” 

Felicity laid back down on the blanket, folding her arms to use as a pillow and looking at Oliver’s profile. Being in the sunlight in all of his muscled, beautiful glory looked so good on him. 

He seemed completely at peace, teasing her lightheartedly, happy. And he was right about marriage, it felt so good to know that he was her husband. It was better. Oliver freaking Queen was her husband. She was his wife. The words just made her feel giddy, like a kid on Christmas every time she thought about it. Married. Oliver. Husband. Wife. 

If someone would have told her six years ago that she was going to marry him, she would have laughed in their face. But now she couldn’t imagine it any other way. And they’d only officially been married for two weeks. How could she already have forgotten what it felt like, before she woke up every day smiling because she was his wife? Now she woke up each morning with him by her side and a weight on her finger as reminders of how the rest of their lives were going to be. Together.

“Oliver, you wanna get married?”

Oliver opened his eyes, squinting as he turned his head to look at her. He glanced around for a moment, his lips pursing, “we did that.”

Felicity shrugged, filling her hands with the white sand of their Bermuda beach and watching it fall through her fingers. She glanced over at him, enjoying the confused look on his face, as if he was wondering if she’d forgotten it happened. “What if we did it again?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he shook his head at her, turning his face back towards the sun and closing his eyes. Smug. “I barely got you to marry me the first time, now you want to do it every two weeks?”

Felicity laughed, sliding across the blanket so she could rest her chest over his. He stared up at her, his hand instinctively reaching behind her back to run his fingers from the knot of her bikini top to the waistband of her bottoms. “Yeah, maybe I do. Is that a problem, Queen?”

Oliver smiled up at her, “No, but I think people would stop showing up. You can only watch the same two people get married so many times before it gets boring, Queen.”

Felicity nodded, tracing his chest with a sandy finger. “How about just me and you then?”

“You’re serious?”

“I am.”

Oliver bit his lip. “Your mom will kill you. She planned that whole reception for the night after we get back. I think her denial of jet-lag is her way of getting revenge on us for not having her there the first time. I don’t want to have to hold her back if she tries to kill you for marrying me again without letting her be there to see it.”

Felicity huffed, playfully nudging him. “Do you wanna re-marry me tonight on a beach in Bermuda or not?”

“Yes.” He nodded, smiling up at her and pulling her tighter against his chest. “Yeah. I’ll marry you as many times as you want, honey.”

“Good,” she smiled, leaning down to press her lips against his. He tasted salty from when she’d dragged him into the ocean earlier, insisting that he enjoy her in all of her bikini glory before they had to go back to the cold Star City. He tasted like pure bliss.

Vlogger Confessions

Youtuber AU where Simon is a daily vlogger and Baz has no idea what his roommate is always filming.

For @snowbaz-feda

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Part 4

We’ve been avoiding each other for the past week, and it’s weird. He’s been out of the house pretty much the whole day, seems like we are back to when he was ashamed of vlogging in front of me.

I’m currently in my bed, trying to read a book but I can’t focus, I can’t keep bloody Snow out of my mind. So because I’m weak and I miss him, I decide to catch up on him.

Apparently I’m only a couple of days behind on his vlogs, he didn’t vlog on the first few days after his live chat.

The one that I’m currently watching, he’s saying sorry, that he just decided to take a few days off.

What’s up with him? He’s out in the beach, but he doesn’t seem to be his usual self. Even when he goes to that coffee shop, that we usually go eat scones, he’s smiling but he’s not happy.

The third vlog which was two days ago, is a short one, and Snow mentions that he noticed people in the comments asking what is wrong with him, he tells them not to worry because he’s fine. Which clearly is a lie.

I decide to check the comments, I never read them because they seem rather pointless, but in this video people are discussing theories about what happened. I read my name in there and what the fuck? One of the top comments is saying, that we had a fight because of the chat, so that’s why Simon looks so broken.

Hold on, they think I’m the one that caused this? People are all agreeing that I must have said something to upset him. That I didn’t like hearing about Snowbaz. Which no, I totally support it, I want it to be real more than anyone.

Instead of replying anything stupid, I decide to check his video of yesterday called we need to have a chat. He went with Penny to some meeting, with a few fans that won a competition, but now in the vlog, it’s night and he’s in bed.

“I had so much fun meeting everyone this afternoon, but I think I need to make something clear, I noticed some comments about Baz and even this afternoon people asked me what happened between us, but he did nothing wrong, so please don’t make him the bad guy…”

He takes a deep breath and passes his hand through his hair, he’s looking so broken right now, “It’s not his fault how I feel about him and you guys notice things, but we were never more than friends so please leave him alone, he never asked for any of this” I pause the video.

Did Simon just said he had feelings for me? Is this a fucking joke?

I storm into his bedroom with my laptop.

“What the fuck Snow?“

He jumps at my sudden entrance and blinks stupidly at me “What.”

I go back a few seconds and press play.

“Stop…” he mumbles to his knees.

I’m so pissed at him right now, why didn’t he said something sooner “Do you mean it?”

He whispers “Just drop it Baz, please.”

I sit on the edge of the bed near him, “Look at me, do you mean it?”

He’s still looking down and I need to see his eyes, I need to make sure this is real, that I’m not fucking dreaming. With my hand I raise his chin up, and when he looks at me he just spits it out angrily “Of course, why would I-” I don’t let him finish, I just kiss him.

Simon has his hand on my hair and he’s pulling me closer. The kiss is getting sloppy and desperate and it’s perfect.

Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day I saw him.


Later on, we are cuddling in his bed watching silly videos when I tell him, “I still can’t believe that I found out, that you liked me back in one of your vlogs.”

“I know, Penny is gonna love it. She kept saying that I should just talk to you, but I thought that there’s no way you liked me back.”

“Why did you said it in your video then? You know that I watch them.”

“Well…” He starts blushing.

“Oh, no way….Snow, you didn’t.”

“I tried to tell you in person, but it was easier like this.”

“You confessed your feelings in the vlog so that I would watch it, you’re ridiculous.”

He shrugs “Yeah well, It worked didn’t it.”

I put my hand on his neck to bring him closer. I kiss his moles one by one, making a path to his mouth, then I kiss him slowly on his lips and when we stop for air I whisper, “It did.”

(see my snowbaz fic masterlist)

anonymous asked:

19 and 48 for reddie?

(I changed 48 a bit to make it fit better with the story!)

Word count: 1.6k

Rated T for some language and degrading slurs. 

Read it on AO3

So this story is actually dedicated to @wolfhardly. She’s so freaking amazing it’s unbelievable, please go check out and follow her blog! Luv ya babe! I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you enjoy reading it! <3

As Eddie stared up at the large banner that was strung across the main street of Derry, his eyes burned with unshed tears. The words staring back at him made his stomach swim with nausea. Out of the corner of his left eye, he could see his friends, Stan and Bill staring at him with sorrow in their eyes and out of the corner of his right he saw Richie. Richie was being held back by his best friends Mike and Beverly, along side Beverly’s boyfriend Ben, because right in front of him holding a can of spray paint and a deadly smirk on his face was Henry Bowers.

Keep reading

Blood, Sweat and Tears

Request from an anon, Keith + “Don’t make me do this”

2k words. Angst, foul language and mentions of death and walking dead AU.

You were a runner before all of this happened. You were the wind.

Scheduled training was respected, effort, time, blood, sweat and tears was put in just to make sure that you were in shape. It wasn’t training to become the fastest woman in the world, just enough to stay fit and not fall behind in gym class.You weren’t the best, a boy or two, sometimes three were ahead of you but you had a reputation for your long strides as the girl version of Speedy Gonzales.

Blood, sweat and tears were sacrificed for you to keep that nickname at school. It stuck and you liked it.

But the world just had to ask for more.

Keep reading

Begin — Jeon Jungkook (03)

Words: 3778

Warnings: none

Description: You’ve never met your father, so you finally make the decision to go meet him in Korea. But what you found there was more than just a father.







2 Weeks Later

“Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice call you, waking you from your sleep. Although you were awake now, you didn’t open your eyes. You wanted to go back to sleep.

“Y/n!” The person called you again, shaking your body this time. “Wake up!” He says, shaking you.

You groaned, still leaving your eyes closed. “Let me sleep.” You mumbled.

“They made breakfast for us and if you don’t get up right now I will gladly eat your food.” He spoke.

You knew he wouldn’t do that, so you just covered yourself with the blanket up to your nose and tried to go back to sleep.

“Get up now or I swear I’ll pour cold water on you.” He tells you. “If you do that, I will end you.” You threatened him.

You didn’t hear anything after that, but then you felt something heavy on top of you.

“Get your heavy ass off of me, Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled opening your eyes and trying to push him off of you.

“Are you up yet?” He asks, smirking as he laid on top of you. “Get off of me.” You groaned.

Jungkook laughed before getting off of you and sitting beside you as you sat up.

You shot the boy a death glare, but he just continued to laugh. “Good morning.” He chuckled.

You groaned once more before pushing him off of your bed. “Ouch!” He gasps in pain before quickly standing up.

“You’re gonna regret that.” He speaks, making his way to you. You quickly stood up and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door as you got in.

You brushed your teeth and washed up before going back to your room and changing out of your sleeping clothes.

After you finished, you went downstairs and was greeted by the faces of the 6 boys that slept over last night.

“Good morning, y/n.” They all smiled at you. “Good morning.” You greeted them before going to the kitchen.

“You almost missed your breakfast.” Jin tells you. “Jungkookie was trying to eat it.”

You laughed and took your plate from off of the counter and went into the living room to eat it.

You sat beside Jungkook. If it wasn’t clear already, you and Jungkook have gotten really close over the past week. You two were practically best friends.

But Jin wasn’t lying when he said that Jungkook was annoying sometimes.

“Jungkook, leave me alone.” You groaned as he nudged your leg with his for about the 5th time.

“I’m not doing anything. What are you talking about?” He pretended to be oblivious, causing you to roll your eyes as you ate your food.

Jungkook left you alone and engaged in the conversation that the rest of the boys were having.

You continued eating and watching whatever show was on the television.

Jungkook turned to you and stole a piece of bacon off of your plate. That piece happened to be the last piece. “Jungkook!” You groaned.

“Oops.” He smiles, putting the whole piece of bacon in his mouth.

You sighed, finishing your food and putting it in the dishwasher.

As you got back to the living room, the boys stopped the conversation they were having and looked at you.

Were they talking about you?

“Woah, why’d you guys stare at me like that?” You giggled, trying to laugh away the awkwardness. “Were you talking about me or something?”

“What? No, we weren’t talking about you.” Taehyung scoffs, but it seemed like he was lying.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“We were talking about…music stuff. Yeah, our new album and stuff. We can’t spoil it for you, so go upstairs while we talk, okay?” Jin says to you.

You were confused, but you nodded and went upstairs anyways. You were almost completely sure that they were talking about you, and you wanted to be totally sure.

Instead of going upstairs to your room, you stood at the top of the steps. That way, they couldn’t see you, but you could see and hear them.

After a couple of seconds, they started talking again.

“Please, Jin-hyung!” Jungkook begged.

“No, Jungkook.” Jin spoke. “There’s no way I’m letting you take y/n to a party. Especially not a teenage party!”

A party? Jungkook wanted to take you to a party?

“Oh, come on. What’s so bad about teenage parties?” Jungkook asked.

“Teenage parties are filled with drunk teens and bad decisions. I’m not letting any of that happen to my baby sister.” Jin says.

“She’s not a baby, she’s nineteen.” Jungkook pointed out.

Of course you wanted to go to this party. Sure, you weren’t much of a party girl, but you like to experience things. A teenage party in Korea sounded like a great experience.

“Jungkook, no.” Jin states.

Jungkook groaned. “Why won’t you let her have fun?”

“‘Fun’ is not going to a party and getting as illegally drunk as you want to.” Jin told him. 

“I won’t let her get drunk. Nothing like that. I’ll watch over her, I promise. Please just let her come.” Jungkook pleads.

“Jungkook I can't—” Jin started, but was cut off by another boy talking.

“I don’t see the problem, Jin-hyung. Jungkook promises to take care of her, so why won’t you let him take her?” Hoseok asked.

“Because Jungkook is as irresponsible as a two year old.” Yoongi told his friend.

“I am not!” Jungkook defended himself.

“You are.” Namjoon says. “You shouldn’t be talking, God of destruction.” Jungkook says.

“I think y/n going to this party will be fun. You should let her have fun, Jin-hyung.” Taehyung spoke.

“Tae is right. She’s only in Korea for a month. You should let her experience things.” Jimin says.

“Ha! It’s four against three. Now you have to let me take her.” Jungkook looks at Jin, sticking his tongue out at him.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Jin says, crossing his arms, causing Jungkook to groan once again.

“I will take care of her, hyung. I won’t let anything bad to happen to her, I swear.” Jungkook says.

“Well, actually,” You finally spoke, walking down the stairs and making your presence clear. They boys all looked at you. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I also really want to go to this party.” You added. “See? She wants to go. Please, hyung?” Jungkook begged.

“Well fine, okay, but I’m only saying yes because Jungkook has never begged me before.” Jin laughed. “But you two be careful, okay? I don’t want either of you getting drunk or anything like that.”

You smiled and nodded as Jungkook walked over to you.

“This party is going to be the best party of your life.”


What you wore was simple. A black dress with flats (because heels annoy the hell out of you and make your feet hurt). You let your hair down and held a small purse in your arms.

“A lot of my friends are here, so don’t embarrass me, yeah?” Jungkook jokes as you two arrived at the house where the party was.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

Stood in front of the house were many teens there who were talking to each other. Most of them holding red cups in their hands.

You could hear the music from inside the house all the way from outside.

Jungkook grabbed your hand as you both stepped into the house, immediately being greeted by two boys.

“Jungkook!” One of the boys said while hugging Jungkook. He had light brown hair and he had a tiny beauty mark under one of his eyes.

“You brought a date!” The other boy spoke. This boy had black hair. You looked at the two boys and immediately recognized them.

Yugyeom and Bambam from GOT7.

As much as you wanted to scream and tell them how much you love their music, you decided to stay calm so you wouldn’t scare them away.

“Actually, I’m not his date. We’re just friends.” You told the boys. They nodded. “What’s your name?” Yugyeom asked.

You were about to answer, but Jungkook spoke for you. “Her name is y/n. She’s Jin’s sister.”

“Jin has a sister? Since when?” Bambam asked. “Since I was born.” You said, causing the other boys to laugh.

“I like you. You’re funny.” Bambam smiled.

You returned the smile and spoke again. “Thanks. I don’t know why you guys are friends with Jungkook. You’re way nicer than him.”

You felt Jungkook squeeze your hand, which you didn’t realize was still holding on to yours, tightly.

“Is this your party?” You asked. “No, it’s our friend Mingyu’s party.” Yugyeom spoke.

You nodded and spoke again. “I love your music by the way.” You told the two boys. “Thank you.” They both smiled.

“Hey. You never say that kind of stuff to me.” Jungkook pouts. “That’s because I don’t like you.” You joked, giggling.

You looked around the house to see the kitchen. That’s where all the drinks were. “Jungkook,” You started, looking up at the boy beside you. “Let’s go get some drinks.”

You pulled him into the kitchen and stood in front of the endless amount of alcoholic drinks. How did they manage to get this much alcohol into a teenage party anyways?

“Y/n, please don’t drink too much. Jin will kill me if you do.” Jungkook begs you.

“Don’t worry about me.” You say, grabbing two cups and starting to pour a drink into both of them.

When you finished, you tried to give Jungkook a cup, but he wouldn’t take it. “I’m a driver tonight. I can’t drink.” He simply tells you.

You just shrugged and drank the contents of that cup before drinking that contents of your own.

“Y/n, slow down.” The boy tells you, but you weren’t really listening.

“I’ll be fine, Jungkook. I’m not a lightweight.”


“Jesus Christ, y/n!” Jungkook says as he got into the driver’s side of the car (that he borrowed from Jin) after making sure that you had your seatbelt buckled.

“I’m not a child, Jungkook. I could’ve fastened my own seatbelt.” You slurred, rolling your eyes.

“I told you not to drink so much! Jin is going to murder me.” Jungkook tells you.

“Hey! Jin isn’t a murderer!” You told him. Jungkook sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“What am I supposed to do? We can’t go back to the house, not with you like this.” He spoke.

You rested your head on the closed window. You were so tired, but for some reason, you were also wide awake. It was like one eye was closing, but the other eye was wide open.

Maybe it was because you were completely drunk out of your mind.

“Jeez, y/n. You should’ve just listened to me! Why’d you get so messed up?!” Jungkook asks, raising his voice a little bit.

“Stop yelling at me.” You told him. Him raising his voice was making your head hurt.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and then his eyes lit up, as if he thought of something.

“I know! I can take you to our hotel!” He says, immediately starting the car up and taking off. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of this before?” He talks to himself.

“The boys are sleeping at Jin’s house tonight, and I have the key to my hotel room, so we can just go there until the morning! I’m such a genius!” He continued.

“Yay.” You said, unenthusiastically.

“When you’re sober tomorrow morning, I’m going to beat you up for not listening to me. God, I hope Jin-hyung doesn’t find out about this.” Jungkook told you.

“Whatever.” You sighed, wanting to be out of the car already. You felt like you were going to puke everywhere.

Somewhere on the way to the hotel, you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar bed. You sat up and looked around the room. It was still night time, and you still felt like you were going to puke.

You saw Jungkook on the bed beside the one you were sleeping on. He was on his phone, but looked up when he saw you.

“Jungkook?” You asked, blinking a couple times as if that would help your vision in the dark.

“Go back to sleep, y/n.” He tells you. “Where are we?” You ask. “My hotel room.” He answers.

You felt your stomach churn and your eyes widened. “Where’s the bathroom?” You asked. Jungkook pointed in the direction of the bathroom and you practically ran there.

You turned on the light and quickly kneeled in front of the toilet, throwing up everything.

When you were finished, you felt a hand on your back, rubbing it, trying to soothe you.

Jungkook grabbed a piece of tissue and handed it to you. You took it and wiped your mouth with it before standing up and flushing the toilet.

“This is why you should’ve listened to me when I told you not to drink so much.” He says. By the look on his face, he seemed somewhat stressed.

You groaned in response, not wanting to say anything. You were still a little drunk.

“Come on, go back to bed.” Jungkook grabs your arm and pulled you out of the bathroom.

You laid down on the bed and Jungkook covered you with the blanket before going back to lay in his bed.

“Jungkook?” You asked once again.

“Yes, y/n?” He asks. “I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“Just go back to sleep, okay?” He said. You didn’t need to be told twice before you closed your eyes and drifted back to sleep.


“Jungkook, how many times do I have to apologize to you?” You asked the boy as you sat in the passenger seat of the car. He was driving you back to Jin’s house.

He didn’t say anything, he just kept driving.

He was really mad at you for getting so wasted last night. You knew because he didn’t hesitate to scold you the moment you woke up.

“Jungkook.” You whined.

“If Jin-hyung finds out, he’s going to hate me. So we keep this to ourselves. I texted him this morning and told him that we stayed at the hotel last night because we were too lazy to go back to his house. Just stick with that plan, okay?” He told you.

You nodded and sat back in your seat, knowing that he was still mad at you.

You two got out of the car when you reached the house. Jungkook had the keys, so he just opened the door and you two walked in.

It was 10 a.m., so the boys should be up already.

As you stepped into the living room, you saw all of the boys sitting on the couch except for Jin and Jimin.

They all greeted you and you greeted them back before going upstairs to your room.

You felt so dirty for some reason, so you took a shower and changed your clothes into something more comfortable before going back downstairs.

When you got downstairs this time, everyone was sitting in the living room with plates of food in their hands.

“Y/n, your plate is in the kitchen.” Jin tells you.

You nodded and went into the kitchen to get your plate. You decided to just stay in the kitchen and eat. There were chairs besides one of the counters, so you sat there and ate.

After a couple minutes of eating, you finished and put your plate in the sink, grabbing a water bottle and drinking most of it. You hoped that it would cure the headache you had.

You closed your eyes and sighed. Your head was pounding.

Something made you open your eyes. It was the sound of someone arguing in the living room. Well, they were either arguing or talking really loudly. You didn’t know which one.

You knew that one of the voices belonged to Jin, but you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying.

You walked into the living room slowly, wanting to know what was going on.

In the living room, you saw all of the boys sitting on the couches except for Jin and Jungkook. They were going back and forth about something and Jin held his phone in his hand.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” Jungkook apologized to your brother.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Jungkook. I trusted you.” Jin spoke. 

“What are you two arguing about?” You asked and everyone looked at you, making you feel uncomfortable.

Without saying a word, Jin walked over to you and showed you his phone.

He was on Snapchat, watching what someone posted. You looked at the pictures and videos and your eyes widened. 

Some of the pictures were of you, from last night. In one of the pictures, you were holding a huge bottle of alcohol, chugging it like it was no big deal.

In another picture, you were dancing with someone, but it wasn’t appropriate dancing. And the guy you were dancing with?


The guy who threw the whole party. The guy who you had met some time last night.

“Do you want to explain these?” Jin asked you.

You looked at him, but you couldn’t look him in the eyes. It was too embarrassing.

When you hadn’t answered, Jin spoke again. “Jesus, y/n. You can’t do things like this.”

You sighed, knowing that he was right.

You didn’t mean to drink so much last night. You just meant to drink a little bit, but a little bit turned into a lot and then it was too late.

“You’re lucky that the boy who posted this is my friend. If he wasn’t, he would’ve leaked those pictures already. He only sent them to me.” Jin explains.

“Jin, I’m so sorry.” You spoke.

Jin shook his head. “I told you to be careful. I told both of you to be careful. And what do you do? You get super drunk and ignore everything that I said.”

You looked down at the floor, too ashamed to look up or say anything else.

“I told you not to get drunk. I told you to be careful, but you don’t listen to me.” Jin says. “Y/n, how could you be so stupid?”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You felt stupid for crying, but you always cried when someone yelled at you. You felt like a child.

Not only did you get drunk and embarrass yourself, but you also disobeyed and disappointed your brother, who you’ve only known for two weeks. What if he hates you now?

“Jin-hyung,” Jungkook starts talking. “Jungkook, don’t even say anything.” Jin says, turning towards the younger boy.

“You promised that you would take care of her, but you didn’t.” Jin spoke. “How am I supposed to trust you with anything ever again?”

“Hyung—” Jungkook starts, but you spoke over him.

“It’s not his fault.” You say, drying your tears as Jin turned back around to face you. “It’s mine. I told him not to worry about me. I made these decisions on my own.”

Jungkook looks at you. “No. I was responsible for her. So it’s my fault.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously you can’t.” Jungkook said.

“I can—”

“No one needs to take the blame because I’m mad at both of you equally. How could you both do this? This is why I didn’t want you to go to that stupid party in the first place! You both are only nineteen. How could you do something as stupid as get drunk?” Jin speaks to both of you.

“Jin-hyung, I think you’re being to hard on them.” Hoseok spoke after seeing that you were crying. “They’re still kids.” He adds.

“They’re kids that don’t understand the meaning of ‘be careful.’” Jin says.

Jin looked at you. “Should I tell dad about this?”

Those words made your eyes widen in fear. If he told your dad about this incident, he would surely hate you.

“No. Please don’t.” You begged Jin.

“If I don’t tell him, how are you supposed to learn?” Jin asks. “Please don’t tell him, Jin. Please.” You begged, tears spilling out of your eyes.

Jin sighed before speaking. “Go upstairs, y/n. I need to talk to Jungkook.”

You wiped your tears and obeyed him, not wanting to make any more trouble for yourself.

You went to your room and closed the door.

Does Jin hate you now?

Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?

How could you be so stupid?

A couple minutes later, there was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You tell the person.

The door opened and in came Jungkook. As you saw him, you stood up.

“What happened? Did he yell at you?” You asked him.

“He told me that I’m not responsible and that I can’t be trusted anymore.” Jungkook explained.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook. This is all my fault.” You sighed.

“It’s not all your fault. I was supposed to be watching over you. I promised him that.” He says.

“I know, but—” before you got to finish your sentence, he spoke over you.

“He said that I can’t hang out with you anymore. At least, not alone. One of the boys have to be with us if we’re ever together.” He explained.

“What? Isn’t that a little too over dramatic?” You asked. Jungkook was your friend. Jin had no right to decide who you could and couldn’t hang out with.

“He says he doesn’t trust me with you anymore, so I can’t take you out to parties, or movies or anything.” He says. “I can’t even take you for a walk in the park. Or to the mall. Not unless one of the boys is there with us.”

“Jin doesn’t have the right to do that. I’m gonna go tell him—” You started, about to leave your room and walk downstairs, but Jungkook grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“Don’t make it worse.” He told you.

You sighed. “I’m so sorry about this, Jungkook. All of it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve lived with Jin for years. He’ll get over it, trust me.” He told you.

“What if he hates me now?” You ask. “What if he tells our dad? He’ll hate me too.”

“Jin doesn’t hate you. And he won’t tell your dad, I can promise you that. He’s too nice.”

You nodded and took a deep breath.

Jungkook left the room and you sat on your bed.

How did you manage to let your brother, who you’ve only know for two weeks, down?

He probably does hate you, doesn’t he?

He probably thinks that he can’t trust you anymore.

You probably just ruined everything.

anonymous asked:

NIF IM SO GLAD YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Okay so I always see fluff about Ignis taking care of his sick s/o, but what if Ignis got sick? And maybe he hides it from his friends and s/o until something happens and he can't hide it anymore? And Iggy has to be taken care of for once?? Love you and your writing, Nif, you're a gem ❤

A Near Miss

Ignis x Reader
Word Count: 1,602

Uhhh I hope this is alright, it got super sUUUUPER angsty as I was writing it and then I tried to inject it with fluff. So hopefully you like it! I was gonna wait to write something until tomorrow but I’m still sick at the moment so this prompt called to me, haha.

Ignis was not well. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud—no, there was too much to do, too much ground to cover, and not enough time in the day. The stinger of a killer wasp had grazed his ankle, not enough to knock him off his feet, but enough that the poison had slowly started to seep into his blood stream, making him weaker and weaker with each step.

He’d used the last of the potions on Noctis, who’d needed it more than he did, and so he suffered in silence as beads of sweat rolled down the side of his forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his glove and pressed on.

You eyed him curiously. It wasn’t like Ignis to be so quiet. He normally couldn’t help but chastise the others for one thing or another, or toss in a quip or two while they made their way back to camp.

You could see the blue haze of the campground coming into view. Out of the corner of your eye, Ignis stumbled.

“Iggy?” You turned to face him fully, and he looked awful. His skin was so pale, and a layer of sweat coated his body, and you could hear his teeth chattering as it cooled on his skin. You weren’t ten feet from camp when he collapsed to the ground, his breath coming in short pants.

You ran over to his side and rolled him over so that his head was in your hands. His eyes were fluttering shut, and you were in an absolute panic.

“Guys!” you screamed frantically. The others turned to you, alarm written across their faces as they rushed over. “Noctis, do something!”

“We have potions back at camp,” he said hurriedly. “Prompto, c’mon!” The two of them dashed away towards the tent to get the emergency supply of potions from the cooler. Gladio kneeled down to be eye level with you.

“Here, let me take him.”

“B-but,” you stammered, tears falling from your eyes. “What if we move him and something goes wrong?”

Gladio placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you from shaking. “We need to get him back to camp where it’s safe. We need to see what happened and what’s wrong with him, and for us to do that, you need to let me take him back to the tent. Okay?”

You looked down at Ignis’ face, his pulse slowing under your fingertips. He looked ghastly, and his skin was starting to turn an unhealthy shade of white. You bit back a sob and nodded. “Okay.”

Ignis wasn’t a short man, so you couldn’t help but briefly marvel at how easily Gladio scooped him up in his arms. He carried him with ease back to the campsite just as Noctis and Prompto charged back with several potions in hand. Prompto cracked one open just to get the healing process started, and Noctis helped you to your feet.

“C’mon,” he urged you forward. “He’s gonna need your help.”

You nodded and followed him back up the small hill to the tent, where Gladio had laid him down on top of his bedroll. You crawled over to his side and placed a hand on his cheek.

The potion that Prompto had administered was already helping, thankfully, but he still looked so pale. You took another potion from his hands and tilted the bottle to his lips, leaning his head up so that he could drink it a little easier. It took a few minutes for the magic to take effect, but soon he was asleep, his breathing back to normal.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Prompto asked nervously, wringing his wrists out of habit. You sighed, but gave a nod.

“Yeah. I think so.” You glanced at your friends, who all looked anxiously down at Ignis, wondering what happened. “You guys should eat something. We have some Cup Noodles left. I’ll stay here and check for his injuries and wait until he wakes up.”

The others eyed each other, but quietly agreed and exited the tent. You sat cross-legged at Ignis’ side, stroking your fingers gently through his hair. You weren’t sure what happened—he seemed fine earlier in the day. You’d had to deal with some MTs, a spiracorn or two, but nothing too taxing.

But then you remembered the killer wasps that you’d had the misfortune of angering earlier, and immediately went into a panic. Had Ignis been poisoned?

You tried to look him over for injuries, or any tears to his clothing. You made it down to his leg, where a small tear near the hem of his pants revealed the answer. You lifted it up and saw a long, thin scar, healed over from the potions, where the tip of a wasp’s stinger had ripped open his skin.

You felt yourself getting angry, unable to comprehend why he wouldn’t just tell you or ask for help. You shuffled back to his side, hands folded in your lap. You hastily wiped at the tears pricking the corners of your eyes and waited for him to wake up.

It was maybe an hour later that he finally stirred. The others were still out by the campfire, knowing better than to intrude on the two of you when they knew something was wrong. Ignis woke to the sound of you quietly crying, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get yourself to stop.


You lifted your face from your hands, your vision a little blurry. “Iggy?”

He sat up on his elbows and groaned before lying back down. “Am I dead?”

You wanted to smack him. You wanted to scream, wanted to haul him up to his feet and pound on his chest for scaring you like that. But instead, all you could do was cry.

“My dear,” he reached a hand out to graze your forearm. “What’s the matter? Please don’t cry, everything will be alright.”

“Iggy,” you sniffled between breaths. “I almost lost you. And you didn’t say anything to anyone. What if we hadn’t gotten back to camp in time, huh? What if you just dropped dead in the middle of the woods in my arms and that was just…it?” You shook your head, looking skyward. “What were you thinking?”

He was quiet. He hadn’t thought of that—calculating, precise, strategical Ignis, hadn’t thought of what would have happened had he actually succumbed to the poison. Hadn’t thought of what you would have gone through if he had died without an explanation, didn’t realize the mistake he had made by staying silent.

Ignis brought his hand up to wipe a tear from your cheek. “My love,” he said, barely above a whisper. His voice shook and his fingers trembled. “I’m so sorry.”

His words broke your resolve and you sank down beside him, crying into his shoulder as you curled against his side. He brought his arms around you and held you tightly against him, stroking your back until your breathing slowed.

You wiped your face hastily with your sleeves. “Don’t ever do that again,” you grumbled, smacking his chest lightly. “Next time you need help, or need someone to take care of you, please just tell me. I love you so much, I don’t want to lose you.”

Ignis nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, my dearest. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Good,” you pulled him closer, hugging his lean torso. “Because next time you almost die on me, I’ll kill you.”

He laughed, the sweet sound filling your ears. It was such a relief to hear the sound as it filled the tent, warming your heart as you gazed up at him. The colour was back in his cheeks, and he looked like his usual self again.

You cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his, rolling halfway on top of him to get a better angle so you could deepen the kiss. Ignis’ hands came up to card through your hair, his leg sliding between your thighs. You were about to slide your hands underneath his shirt to gently claw at his abdomen when—


You practically jumped off of Ignis as Noctis cleared his throat from the entrance of the tent. You pretended to cough, and Ignis smiled lazily from his spot on the ground.

“You look like someone’s feeling better,” Noctis commented as you brought a hand to your face, hiding the blush that dusted your cheeks.

“Better than ever,” Ignis confirmed, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. “I daresay I’m ready to engage in physical activity.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna know.” He swiftly exited the tent, and you swatted at Ignis’ arm. He couldn’t help but laugh, dragging you closer again.

“Now, where were we?”

“Nuh-uh,” you wagged your finger in his face. “You’re not fully healed yet. And I am not having sex with you in this tent with those nosy bastards outside listening in on us.”

Ignis merely shrugged, pecking you on the cheek. “Unfinished business always provides the most lucrative rewards in any case.”

You chuckled and helped him stand up. “Come on, handsome,” you said, leading him out of the tent. “Let’s get you something to eat. And don’t say what I know you’re going to say.”

Ignis shook his head at the innuendo, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as you laced your fingers with his and led him outside into the cool evening air.

The Glow of a New Sun: Part II


“Nesta!” Elain squealed in excitement and forced her eldest sister into a hug with herself and their youngest. “I’m so glad you stayed. That we’re all here. Together.”

Pulling from the embrace due to the heat and Nesta’s belly crushing her ribs, Feyre smiled and added, “The three of us together. Just as it should be.”

“Just as it should be!?” Nesta wanted to cry out. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t.

But she felt it. She hadn’t hardly thought of him in months, but now that she did, she couldn’t stop.

Instead, she asked, “What’s there to eat? I’m famished.” She was. Between the exhaustion of being pregnant with a child who yearned to stretch their wings…and the fact that Cassian woke her up most mornings by trailing kisses down her tattooed body- he was always careful with the burns that marbled her lower back… Nesta was starving from the exertion.

Elain held onto both her sister’s hands and led the way. They passed Lucien and Helion laughing and whispering conspiratorially to each other, grinning like lions. Varian feeding Amren grapes as she sat in his lap was a sight they did not care to see.

Cassian remained half a step behind the trio as they made their way to the refreshments.


Filling a myrtlewood bowl with tangerines, Nesta turned around to find Cassian blushing and shaking his head as Helion cackled and strode to his side.

“A gift from the lovely Tarquin.” Helion gestured to the colorful food that took up the space of Rhys’s dining room table. The table that was moved by the Illyrians while Feyre and Helion watched.

“I would offer you some.” Nesta bit into the fragrant fruit and narrowed her eyes at Cassian, licking the juices from her lips. “But I don’t want you to respond first with, ‘not hungry.’” She raised her eyebrows at him and shoved another small slice into her mouth.

Cassian flinched as Helion let loose a howling laugh that made the birds fly away.

“He knows?” Cassian would like to say that he couldn’t believe it. But that wouldn’t be true. Nesta was Helion’s confidant. And at the time she was referring to, it would’ve made sense for him to be the first and only person she told.

“I know and hear everything that happens in my Court, Commander.” Helion’s insinuations were likely to get him into trouble again. But was it an insinuation when it was the truth? “Especially at the manor. Especially at the steps of the wishing fountain near the West entrance.”

Finally offering the fruit with her slender hand, Cassian took it. Closing his eyes as he savored the bite. It tasted just as fantastic as he had remembered.

When he opened his eyes, Nesta was grinning. The smile she reserved especially for him. As if any thoughts other than this moment had escaped her mind.

Knowing her sister’s would be there to care for her if she needed, and that he would feel, hear, or smell the moment she needed anything, he eyed Mor and Rhys debating whether or not the obscene amount of gifts were enough and if they should be organized by size or importance.

Go.” Nesta mouthed. “I’ll be fine.”

She knew he’d be back when she needed. He knew he’d be back within minutes, not wanting to be parted from her side.


Mor flipped her braid over a bare shoulder and crossed her arms. “Rhysand. You are my cousin and I love you. But you are utterly insane if you think your gifts are better than mine.” Noticing Cassian’s arrival, she gave him a quick smile before turning back to an indignant Rhys.

“Ah!” Rhys slapped Cassian’s arm. “I suppose he’ll be the judge of that anyway. Whether your gifts are more perfect, or the gifts from someone who’s known him longer and therefore better.”

Cassian shrugged Rhys’s hand away and eyed the blindingly bright stacks. “Why are they all white? Where are the gifts that I brought?”

“When Feyre and Rhys were sent to retrieve the happy couple, Amren, Lucien, and I thought it would look better if the gifts matched.” Mor held out her arms as though to show that she was right.

“Bullshit.” Rhys smirked. “You’re all impatient and wanted to know if what you got was better than anyone else’s.”

Cassian surveyed the gifts while Rhys and Mor argued over who was going to be the child’s favorite.

Boxes and bags. All pristine and white. With the exception of the green reminder of what was missing.

“You didn’t rewrap all of them.” Cassian blurted, pointing at the package and laughing humorlessly. “Why didn’t you? It looks like shit.”

“We didn’t want to know what’s inside before the two of you.” Mor shifted and spoke softly, “We thought you would both prefer it this way. This was how we found it.“

Cassian stared. His red siphons glowed so bright, they threatened to burst.

Rhys chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. “I’m sure he gave it his best effort.” He referred to the ridiculous gaudy bow on the top.

“Of course he would.” Cassian thought. “Especially after what-”

“I know, Cassian.” Rhys was certain, reassuring his thoughts.

Without warning, Cassian turned from the display, leaving his two friends.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he headed for Nesta. With her, any day could be perfect. And this day was going to be perfect.


Cassian’s mind reeled as he walked towards his wife who truly did glow like a new sun.

The white dress that flowed and showed every glorious bump and curve…

The golden curls and waves he cut short just days before framed her lovely face and blew in the light breeze…

Her face… She was beaming at her friend, who was once again feeling the life that grew inside her.

“If he could be here, he would be.” Cassian reminded himself.

A promise. An assurance.

jxmes-b-bxrnes-deactivated20170  asked:

May I request a prompt? It's a bit angsty, it's where The Winter Soldier, Captain America and the reader are in a life-threatening situation and only two of them could make it out alive, the reader devises a plan, which requires her to stay behind and get killed. The they both get out safely thinking the reader is safe too until they look back and realize that it's too late...Thank you very much for taking your time, if you can't do it, I absolutely understand:)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader | Steve x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Warnings: death and no happy ending (I hate myself for this lol)

A/N: omg girl, you really know how to make someone cry, lol. anyways, this prompt is amazing, gave me a LOT of feels and I made it super angsty (I really hope that’s what you wanted haha.) 


“You know,” Punch. “When you told me you’d take me out,” Punch. “I was either hoping for dinner,” Kick. “Or a threesome.”

You turned around to the two men behind you who had a pile of men lying around them and grinned.

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You love this,” Cap answered, throwing his shield to hit the last man entering the room, before collecting it again.

“Maybe. But a threesome? That would’ve been a lot more appreciated today.”

Both men looked at each other, laughed and then followed you to the transmission room of the Hydra base.

You instantly saw it.

And that’s when your previous happy mood disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Keep reading

SuperBroJocks AU + Prom 

for that one anon (ily for this btw) || all superbrojock aus related things

  • Jason and Percy go to prom together it’s simple.
  • Percy wears a tux with a blue vest and tie bc he likes blue and wants to match Jason’s eyes. Jason wears a black tux with a very dark green vest and tie to match Percy’s eyes. (They did not coordinate their outfits beforehand.)
  • They got each other corsages. (The corsages did not match.)
  • Jason went all out with prom getting the two of them the gaudiest limo he could find knowing full well that Percy will love it. He did love it. It’s the ugliest thing ever.
  • Percy’s mom, stepdad, and little sister all made a big fuss about everything. Jason and Percy were so embarrassed. Little sister thought it was cute.
  • They arrived at the dance. They take the obligatory school prom photo with Percy holding Jason by the waist as they smile to the camera next to a fake palm tree. They danced with friends. They danced together. They slow danced to Carly Rae Jepsen.

But this isn’t the best part though. Nope. The best part happened before prom.

The Promposal.

  • Percy has it all figured out see. He already asked the cheerleaders and the marching band for their help. He made like 10 banners (and had Grover spell check them bc Annabeth also has dyslexia).
  • He asked Jason’s teammates for help which they all happily obliged. He asked the gardening club tips on what flowers he should get. He asked his family what to do exactly. He may have even debated on getting his horse, wearing a knight costume, and riding to school with a giant sword and a bouquet of roses with the marching band and cheerleaders trailing behind. (The principal did not give him permission to let his horse on school grounds. That plan was scrapped, regrettably.)
  • Percy’s plan was perfect. He would text Jason to meet at one end of the football field. The field would be questionably without people, but Jason wouldn’t notice. Annabeth will signal him when Jason is there and waiting. Then from the other end of the field he would suddenly hear the marching band playing their song and he would see the cheer leaders doing their thing and then when they get right in front of him do a series of elaborate human pyramids and they’ll raise the signs that say ‘Will go to Prom with this guy? —>’ pointing at Percy who is basically surrounded by bouquets of flowers looking adorable.
  • At that point there will be two very large hoops raised covered in paper one saying ‘yes’ and the other ‘no’
  • Someone will give Jason a football to throw in the hoop of his answer.

This is all well and great and would have been sweet as fuck but you see

  • Jason has got everything figured out. He asked the whole theater department to help him out with his promposal. He’s even got the tech guys control a fog machine. A freaking fog machine! How cool is that! Even the lighting guys brought along some of their things.
  • He fretted over what exactly he should do for this special event while Reyna, Leo, and Piper were all overly supportive. He tried asking the cheer squad for their help but apparently someone else got them for their promposal but no biggie. He had back ups made. He asked the baking club, the robotics club, and Percy’s teammates to help him make everything just perfect for what he has planned.
  • His original plan was to jump out of a helicopter and have a group of trained parachutists do a performance as they hold a ‘will go to prom with me?’ sign but the Principal did not give him permission to land about 30 professional parachutists on school property. His other plan was to have sky writers write a ‘will you go to prom with me?’ sign but that just was not special enough.
  • Jason’s plan was perfect. He would text Percy to meet at one end of the  football field. The field would be questionably without people, but Percy wouldn’t notice. Reyna will signal him when Percy is there and waiting. Then from the other end of the field out of the fog Jason is going to bust out with the theater club dancing and singing a version of their song. The then as the song and dance stop a banner carried by two drones is going to show up carrying a giant cookie that asks if Percy will go to Prom with Jason.
  • At this point Jason will have two blue cupcakes one with a ‘yes’ and one with a ‘no’. All Percy has to do is pick one.

Here’s what happened

  • Percy was uncharacteristically being secretive all week. So, was Jason. Neither of them noticed because both were pre-occupied with their promposal.
  • Grover, Annabeth, Leo, Piper, and Reyna knew of both promposals. None of them said anything to the concerning parties.
  • Percy and Jason led their steads simultaneously both making their way from the opposite part of the football field. Their parades met in the middle to the confusion of literally everyone especially Percy and Jason.
  • They looked at each other’s over the top show of affection in utter awe, completely unbelieving. Jason’s heart felt like it would burst from sheer happiness and Percy felt like his cheeks hurting from smiling so big.
  • “Is that for me?” “Yes! Is that for me?” “Of course, who else would it be for?” “So… What do you say?” “What do you say?”
  • Jason throws the football to the yes hoop and Percy eats the yes cupcake
  • They hug, they kiss, everyone cheers.
  • “You know, I would still said yes if you just wrote me a note.” “You know, I would have said yes even if you didn’t ask.”

anonymous asked:

May I request an MC that loves to camp/grew up camping and hiking and just being outside her whole life and trying to get the RFA + V + Saeran to go camping with them °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°. It's so cute to imagine I can't even!!! XXD Thanks in advance !!!

You’re absolutely right anonny, this is an adorable idea! I tried to make this more fluffy because it is so cute to think about going camping with the RFA and friends! So thank you for the request and I hope that you enjoy!! ^^


  • Yoosung isn’t really into going outside much so he’s a little bit hesitant when it comes to camping with you
  • But you’ve been helping him study for his classes so it’s the least he could do
  • He gives his computer and electricity one final goodbye as the two of you head out to go camping
  • This poor boy can’t pitch a tent for the life of him, Yoosung refuses you help him because he’s a man and he’s supposedly got this
  • But after an hour of no success and Yoosung trying to untangle himself from the tent, you set the tent up within a few minutes, making him red with embarrassment
  • He starts helping you gather some firewood because this boy is looking forward to some homemade s'mores
  • Once the two of you get the fire going, Yoosung makes himself nine s'mores as he listens to you re-tell camping stories from your childhood
  • Yoosung isn’t too keen on sleeping alone with just the two of you in the woods but you wrap your arms around him and reassure him that you two will be fine
  • That is until a bear passes by and eats the marshmallows that Yoosung left out, both of you frozen with fear but are unharmed
  • Yoosung isn’t sure if he wants to go camping again soon but he did have fun with you because anywhere you go together is enjoyable


  • Zen immediately agreed to go camping with you as soon as you brought the idea up
  • Since he’s been receiving so many new acting roles, the two of you barely spent any time together and he figures that camping would be fun
  • You pick a more secluded area in the forest so that no media members or crazy fangirls bother you two
  • Zen helps you make the tent up and collects firewood while you get the supplies for dinner ready
  • He’s amazed at how good cooking over a fire can be and is convinced it’s because of your chef’s touch
  • Since the night is a bit chilly, you cozy up next to Zen as he wraps a warm blanket around both of your shoulders
  • You tell him camping stories about your past, the look of excitement in your eyes is too much for Zen so he giggles and kisses your red-tipped nose
  • He’s a bit nervous about sleeping in the tent alone with you in the woods so he tries to stay up as late as possible
  • Just as the two of you were dozing off, you hear a wolf howling and the two of you look at each other
  • Zen smirks as the wolf reminds him of himself, telling you that being in such a secluded area means that no one can hear your cries of pleasure
  • You can now check off outdoor sex on your bucket list - Zen genuinely loves camping with you and the two of you start planning another trip as soon as you get home


  • Jaehee loves the idea of going camping with you, especially since that means no stuffy office buildings for her
  • She doesn’t stop smiling at your enthusiasm so she says she wants to have as much fun as you have
  • You take her to a local camping site where there are some other families nearby so she doesn’t get freaked out
  • Jaehee pitches the tent faster than anyone you’ve ever seen, the woman’s got skills
  • Although her cooking skills could use some improvement, she wasn’t use to making meals over a campfire and burned the first attempt
  • So she leaves that to you while she finishes gathering all of the supplies
  • Once the two of you finish eating you let her vent out her issues and worries while the two of you share a warm cup of coffee
  • She loves the idea of sleeping in a tent and falls asleep within seconds thanks to the soothing nature sounds
  • But the tent is on the smaller side and Jaehee ends up sprawling her body all across the cramped area, leaving you to huddle in the corner
  • Jaehee wakes up feeling refreshed while you tell her for the next camping trip, you’re going to teach her proper tent sleeping etiquette


  • Jumin gives you a confused look whenever you tell him that you want to go camping together
  • He thinks he’s heard of camping before, he assumes that it’s a commoner’s activity, but he’s not completely sure what it is
  • But seeing how excited you were when talking about it makes Jumin agree, although he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into
  • You pick a more open area in the forest to go camping to feel more alone but with the numerous security guards surrounding you two it’s difficult
  • Jumin asks you so many questions about everything from “Why sleep in a tiny tent when I can purchase a cabin for us?” To “How are we suppose to know when the food is done cooking since there’s no cooking timer?”
  • It’s tough trying to get this city boy into an outdoor lover but you still try
  • You find a since little secluded area to watch the sunset together and you think that Jumin is starting to get into camping
  • That is until he had to use the restroom and didn’t know where to go or what to do
  • He accidentally pees on top of a skunk nest and inevitably gets himself sprayed by the angry creatures
  • You have to cut the camping trip short and drove home in separate cars while Jumin gets himself de-skunk spray-ified
  • Jumin has to be thoroughly convinced again to go camping again, you tell him that you’ll teach him the best ways to avoid skunks for the next trip


  • Seven is completely down for camping the second you suggest it
  • This boy needs to get out of the house more so you’re glad you don’t have to drag him outside
  • He goes all out when buying gear and equipment so that the two of you have a memorable time
  • You pick out the same area as your childhood times when picking out where to set up camp
  • Seven wants to explore so he leads you on a small hike, he puts on a nature hike outfit and gives you random facts about nature
  • When you get back to your camping gear, Seven holds his hand in front of your and nods to the raccoon scouring through your food
  • He gently gets the raccoon to leave and you’re shocked that he managed to not get himself mauled
  • When nighttime falls, Seven lays out some blankets and wraps your up in his arms as the two of you stargaze
  • He points out different constellations and tells you stories about them
  • Seeing the look of pure happiness in Seven’s eyes makes you tear up, making him confused but you assure him that you’re fine
  • You and Seven end up staying an extra night at the campsite because you both have so much fun
  • Seven has a newfound love of camping thanks to you and and plans on teaching you everything there is to know about the stars


  • V loves nature so he’s all for going camping with you
  • He’s never gone camping before so he excited when you tell him that you went camping all of the time in the past
  • You take him to an area where there are some people near by so he doesn’t get too freaked out being alone in the forest
  • But since everything seems so similar to him because of the muted colors, V has a tough time maneuvering around
  • This poor boy walks into nine trees until he asks you to be his guide as you see a bruise forming on his forehead
  • He adores sitting by the campfire with you, the warmth from both the fire and snuggling beside you
  • While the sun sets, V gets tons of photos of you and the scenic nature backgrounds
  • You both get a good night’s sleep until you both woke up in the morning covered in bug bites
  • V’s almost in tears as he realizes he forgot to zip the tent up and left it open all night long
  • You two go home early from your camp trip to lather each other up with aloe vera
  • After saying ‘sorry’ about one hundred times, V takes you on another camping trip the next week
  • V makes sure to always zip the tent up and bring lots of bug spray as the two of you have a fun time camping since he’s much more prepared


  • Saeran already loves being outdoors so he agrees when you suggest the two of you go camping
  • But since he’s never been camping before, he lets you do all of the packing and planning
  • When the two of you get there, Saeran takes almost an hour to stare at the nature’s beauty
  • He loves being outdoors, especially if you’re with him, so he’s loving every second of camping
  • Saeran is a master at making campfires and heats up all kinds of desserts, trying to be romantic and shyly feeds some s'mores to you
  • Most of the day, he stares at the sky, especially during the sunset
  • He was looking forward to watching the night sky with you until Saeran notices some dark clouds pass by
  • Without any warning, heavy rain starts pouring down as you and Saeran take shelter in the tent
  • Even though he had no control over it, Saeran feels guilty for the rain but you give him a small kiss on the cheek and unzip the top part of the tent
  • A clear covering on the top of the tent reveals a newly cleared night sky to a now smiling Saeran
  • Saeran lets you know how much he loves camping but makes sure to check the weather next time the two of you camp

title:”Oh, shit.” (Peter Maximoff Imagine)

characters: reader x peter maximum,daughter x charles xavier, Jubilation Lee

word count: 1,320

warnings:swearing, allergies (is that a warning??), peter being a fucking princess, fluff&stuff

:: :: ::

Today is the day. 12 months ago your life changed for the better. One year ago precisely, you and Peter Maximoff went on your first of many wonderfully weird dates. You were whisked away by the speedster and your heart was his since then. 

As a boyfriend, Peter is not a traditional suit and red roses kind of guy. He preffers metallic jackets and odd little gifts such as key rings and candy wrappers with stupid little love notes written on them. But speaking of roses, you were thankful he hasn’t resorted to gifting you them, or any sort of flower for that matter.

The issue of the matter is you are deadly allergic all types of flowers so although the gesture would be romantic, it wasn’t your thing. 

 :: :: ::

As it is a Saturday, you wake up in your dormitory at “Charles Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters” at 11:30 AM. Lazily, you toss your legs over the edge of your bed and stumble over to your desk. Not knowing what day it is, you glance at the calendar and to your surprise there was a heart framing the day. 

“Oh fucking…” You start as you are all of a sudden completely awake. You rush over to the mirror and are shocked at the disaster standing before you. The best way to describe it was too much hair, 2 day old makeup that had been spread all around your face and an indescribable odor that you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.

This is more than just a one woman job. Being a telepath, like your father, Charles Xavier, you reach into Jubalee’s mind and inform her of the extremely important emergency and within minutes she arrives at your door with all the neccessarry equipment to make you look semi presentable.

You open your door  at the knock and Jubes’ expression is priceless.”Jesus Christ (y/n), we’ve got quite a lot of work to do.” Groaning, you open the door more to let her in and she flops onto your bed. 

“Okay, hop in the shower and fix that animal on your head while I raid through your closet searching for anything that isn’t a black t-shirt and ripped jeans.”

“UUUUGH” you complain before hopping in the shower.

:: :: :: 

Two hours later I look semi presentable in some nice jeans and a red top. I put my hair up but decided to go with no makeup, much to Jubalee’s disapproval. Finally i’m out the dorm door and head straight for my father’s office. 

I knock on the door and here a “Come in!” from the inside. I enter the room to see my father at his desk with ungraded papers spread throughout the whole office space.

“You look lovely, (y/n). What’s the occasion?” He asks you, only glancing up for a short while before returning to grading.

“Well, today marks the one year anniversary of Peter and I’s relationship.” You respond quickly. This gained his attention for sure. He sets down the papers and makes his way to the other side of his desk, leaning against it.

“Congratulations. I’m glad you two have lasted this long but does Erik know of the relationship yet?” He asks you, a look of concern spreading across his features.

“I don’t believe so.” You respond honestly. “But we have all the time in the world to tell him” 

“Alright, well you know the rules. I understand that it is your anniversary and things can get…romantic, please be careful and don’t do anything that would have disappointed your mother.” Charles orders.

Groaning, you counter “I won’t, don’t worry. You’re a telepath anyways, it’s not like I can hide anything.”

Charles grins at this but informs his daughter that he will still need to have a conversation with Peter before anything happens tonight. 

:: :: ::
It’s 7PM and instead of being with his girlfriend on their anniversary, Peter is instead getting lectured by his girlfriends father who is going extremely into detail.

“Charles!” Peter finally interrupts the rambling man. “You, of all people, know that I love and care for your daughter very much and I wouldn’t do anything to harm her or try something without her consent.” He recites.

“Good.” Charles approves before asking. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” 

This gets Peter excited as he was quite proud of himself. “Well, Professor, I’m not exactly the romantic sort of guy, but today I decided to step out of my comfort zone and give her flowers.” He smiles at himself.

“Oh, shit.” Charles mutters to himself, knowing of his daughters extreme allergy.

Not hearing Charles muttering peter continues. “I thought since we have been together for 365 day, why not get her 365 flowers! And as her favorite color is (y/f/n), I bought them all that color! Good, right?” Peter asks the concerned father.

Upon noticing the scared look on the professors face, peter stumbles out “um, is it, uh, n-not…good?” He asks, his previously confident voice shrinking.

Charles finally sputters out “(y/n) is deadly allergic to flowers.”

“Oh, shit.”

:: :: ::

It was 7:15 and you were headed back to your dormitory on orders of a note you found from Peter. Getting excited, you rush up to your door and stand in front of it for a little, preparing for whatever romantic gesture Peter has conjured up in his brilliantly twisted mind.

Slowly, you reach for the doorknob and grip onto it tight. The brass starts to spin but just as you were about to push forward, opening the door, a streak of silver crashes into you, knocking you onto your ass.

“Maximum what the fuck?! I got your note!” You half-yell, waving it in his face. 

“Language!” Charles scolds, coming out of nowhere.

“Where did you come from?” You ask, getting more and more confused by the second. 

You look at Peter who is just staring intently at the closed door. “So hey, I just found out you were allergic to flowers…” He trails off. Your dad pulls you further away from the door as Peter opens it, revealing hundreds of (y/f/c) flowers beautifully placed throughout every inch of the room.

You gasp, speechless from the gesture. “Peter…” Is the most you can mutter out.

“Yes I know, I’m really sorry, (y/n). I should have known about the allergy and maybe I should have asked you, I get that  you wanted romance an-” Peter’s ramblings were cut short when you stated.

“What are you talking about?I love it! Even though I have an allergy, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how lovely all of this is.” You run up to him and kiss him on the cheek, knowing your father was watching.

“Thank you.”

:: :: ::

There are still cleaners in your room after mid-night, disinfecting everything the flowers touched, hopefully leaving your room a nice, safe environment to sleep in again.

You and Peter were sprawled out on now of the couches in the lobby of the school. Your head resting on his shoulder, growing more tired each minute, wanting the cleaners to be done so you can rest up. 

As if Peter read your mind, he whispers into your hair “You know babe, we can just go to sleep in my room…” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“JUST SLEEPING!” you hear you’re telepathic father yell from a different room.

Laughing, the two of you slowly get up and make your way to Peter’s dormitory.  You both flop down onto his unmade bed and snuggle close. “Happy anniversary, Princess.” He whispers to you.

“Happy anniversary, Princess.” you repeat back to him, causing both of you to chuckle. 

“I’ll only be a Princess…” Peter starts. “If i’m you’re princess.” 

Both of you start uncontrollably laughing. “Deal.” You finally squeak out, before falling into a pit of non-stop laughter.

Shooting Stars

John Wick/ Reader

Originally posted by mostexcellentkeanugifs

Words: 1,617

Summary: Letting go is not easy, especially if it’s someone extremely close to you. But a promise is a promise and you can’t let Helen down.

Request: The Reader is Helens sister, who has been a secret assassin for a few years and she had been the one to introduce John to her sister. Helen asks her to take care of John once she had passed, by it being a friend or lover as long as she looked out for him. :)

Tagging: @kwaiky, @ly–canthrope@truely-the-darkest-timeline, @bisexualillis

Requested by: Anonymous

Author’s note: In this fic, the reader is Helen’s stepsister to address the issue that a lot of people (including me) are not white. other than that…hope u listen to some sad music!! (i promise there’s an optimistic ending). if u wanna be tagged in any of my fics, please send me an ask! i need to get all my ducks in a row bc this memorizing shit aint it…

You can’t believe she’s really gone.

It didn’t quite hit you when you stared at your stepsister’s casket with a hundred yard stare. The moment during the post funeral reception didn’t wake you up from that fog that was cast on you. No.

Watching the sky drop a torrential downpour that gloomy afternoon sealed that fact. Helen is gone and there is nothing you can do about it.

Keep reading

All 78 Ships in SEVENTEEN NSFW! Headcanon Masterlist

by say-the-name-xvii aka heckhansol

I’m know this is all super subjective and some of y’all are gonna be like BUT JIHOON and BUT MEANIE and all that but just hear me out, and remember that these are just my own headcanons. I’m also easily swayed into new ships if you can give me good examples ;) lol okay eskeetit


A > B  –  A tops B
A < B  –  B tops A
A = B  –  switch couple
A ? B  –  not sure

Rating [0-5]:
0 – can’t even see it
1 – don’t like it, but it’s a possibility I guess
2 – yeah okay, sure
3 – fully support it
4 – like it a lot
5 – OTP level

**These two may be mutually exclusive. This is usually when it’s a pair I don’t ship, but I still have an opinion on who would top.


Let’s start off by going through each member and giving them a few words to describe their type (oh, and this is all in age order):

Seungcheol: top; Daddy (has two Babies)
Jeonghan: switch: gentle top, power bottom #1
Jisoo: switch: rare dom top, wriggly emotional bottom
Jun: top; loves soft bottoms (has 3 favorites)
Soonyoung: switch: rare top, whiny bottom; the “will try anything” member
Wonwoo: switch: wild card
Jihoon: the neediest bottom
Seokmin: ultimate switch: the most caring top, messy loud adorable bottom
Mingyu: switch: power (physically) top, Wonwoo’s bottom
Minghao: switch: rare intense/dom top, power bottom #2
Seungkwan: bottomTM; loves Daddies and his boyfriend
Hansol: top; essentially monogamous (with Kwannie) with one exception and two “exceptions”
Chan: switch: dom top, dom bottom unless he’s upset or in masochist headspace

Now onto the ships:

Keep reading

#192 - For anonymous x2

Filling the prompts “a fluffy fic about travel to New York with Van? That they walk everywhere and there are many hugs and kisses bc it’s winter” and “the reader gets out of bad relationship, and they turn up at vans and he takes them out to do all of the things they couldn’t do in the relationship?”

Warnings: Domestic violence.

“Van… This is… This is way too much. I can’t-”

“Course you can, Y/N. It’s not too much because it’s not like I can’t afford it. More money than I know what to do with. And I owe you from the millions of favours you’ve done for me and the band over the years, yeah? And Ma says you went over and helped her out with some cake thing the other day?”

“Yeah, but-”

“But nothin’. You deserve good things, Y/N. You’ve had horrible fuckin’ luck with that. Had a bad run of things. I can't… I can’t fix everything for you. Would if I could, trust me, but… Let me do this. Come with me to New York and have a good time and just forget everythin’ else for a bit. It will be class. I promise. It’s not like you’ve got much else on, right?”

Right. The past fourteen months had seen the slow withdrawal of you from everything in your life. Patrick seemed wonderful at first, they always do. Then he mentioned he didn’t like the way your friends spoke to you, even though they spoke just fine. He said work was stressing you out, so you started calling in sick more. Little by little, his whispering advice became the one guiding force in your life. You stopped seeing the girls. You hardly spoke to Van or the guys at all. Social media was deleted; it could have been a lifeline and Patrick knew that. You relied on his income to keep you fed and housed. Family were never spoken of. You existed in a bubble that seemed so safe. He’d made it that way. You versus the world. Then, inside the bubble when things turned bad there was nowhere to go and nobody to save you.

Keep reading


~Tucker is not prepared to serve bagels to asshole bureaucrats commuting to the city at three in the fucking morning. So before work, he pounds back a bottle of vodka.

Wash would like a bagel.~


Words: 4,478

Characters: Agent Washington, Lavernius Tucker, Leonard Church, Agent Texas, Michael J. Caboose

Warnings: Canon-typical swearing, drinking, aftermath of trauma (sorry even when I’m being fluffy it’s still mean), gratuitous bagel puns

Ao3 link / @rvbficwars(ps im so sorry i haven’t had legit access to the internet all week and its grad week but i still wanted to do something)


Five in the morning. Who the fuck schedules a military hearing for five in the fucking morning on a Tuesday?

Wash adjusts his uniform in the bathroom mirror for the millionth time, suppressing the agonized screech he’s been holding in for hours. It’s stiff. Too formal, suffocating, all the tassels and the badges. If he could just exchange it for a suit, or a button-up shirt, literally anything that didn’t make him feel as trapped as he already is, he might be feeling better about this.

But this is a military thing, and because it’s military, they want him to testify as the soldier he used to be. Not the agent he became. Which means a uniform—the stiff, dull, cloth kind.

Fuck. He doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to stand before a bunch of military assholes for hours and let them dissect every second he spent with the project. Doesn’t want to sit on a train into the city in full uniform while civilians stare at him and wonder what kind of mess he’s gotten himself into. They wouldn’t be wrong to wonder.

Stalling for time, he sighs and combs his hands through his hair yet again—and as he does, his fingers brush ever so slightly over the scar at the nape of his neck and he freezes.

His hands fall to his sides. All he wants to do is get back in bed with his cats, lock every door in the apartment, and never leave. Maybe even scream into a pillow after cracking open a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. That’s his usual Tuesday night. But that scar reminds him why he’s doing this.

This is why he agreed to testify. So what happened to him doesn’t have to happen to anyone else ever again.

Wash sighs and turns off the bathroom lights, heading for the door. He’s going to miss his train.

He doesn’t feel that drunk.

Still, Tucker gets the gist that he’s fucking wasted when he hits Church’s car in the parking lot.

A part of him thinks that maybe he should back up and try again. But his foot isn’t part of that part, and it presses down the gas and eases into the parking spot next to Church’s now-beat-up jeep like nothing happened.

He can’t really pin down his mood as he gets out of his equally beat-up sedan and slams the door shut. Drunk, sure, but that’s not a mood, that’s a lifestyle decision. He thinks the right word is annoyed. Annoyed at being assigned to the graveyard shift when his son is supposed to be starting kindergarten in the morning. Annoyed that, because of work and that stupid thing called rent, he’s not gonna get to see his kid off to his first day of school. He’d dropped Junior off at Kai’s place last night, just in case this happened, which of course it did. He’s entitled to a responsible adult night alone and a bottle of rage vodka every once in a while.

He’s also a little giddy, which he can easily attribute to being drunk off his ass at two in the morning.

Tucker fumbles for his keys and drops them twice before finally getting the front door open. The Pastry Train Donut and Bagel Emporium is dark in the dining area, which is bad, because it means that Church expects him to turn everything on.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Where are the lights again? He hasn’t had the opening shift in months.

Once he remembers, he slowly maneuvers towards the power and flips all the switches, letting out a groan as everything turns on, all the lights, all the fridges in the front, all the really fucking bright things. Ow.

“It’s about time you got here,” Church says, emerging like the social gremlin he is from the bakery in the back. He’s got dough and flour all over his apron—at least he already got the first batch of bagels in. Church raises an eyebrow. “I, uh, heard some noise in the parking lot.”

Tucker rubs at his eyes. “Oh. I, uh, I hit…a…tree.”

“…Big tree. Loud tree.”

He just looks at Church confusedly for a second before, like a switch being flipped, he can suddenly hear the screaming wail of a car alarm outside. He can’t be that drunk, how did he not fucking notice that?

Church pulls his keys out of his pocket and presses the lock button, and the car outside makes the little chirp chirp and goes silent. “Apparently I drive a ‘98 Redwood.”

“…No, yeah, my car’s fine, don’t worry,” Tucker says. He thinks he says it coolly but in reality he just slurs it together like it’s all one word.

Church just stares.

And stares.

And stares—

“You’re wasted, aren’t you.”

Tucker takes a step back and puts a hand on his heart, feigning offense. “Me? No, no, you…nah, I’m sober.”

“Right, of course.” The sarcasm in his voice is burning. “That’s the smell coming off of you, it’s definitely sobriety.”

“Fuck you—”

“We open up for commuters in ten. You good to handle a register?”

They’re kind of just staring at each other for a few seconds.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, totally. I’m totally cool. Exact change? No problem. Each plain bagel’s a dollar.”

“Ninety-five cents.”

“Right, that’s, like, the poor man’s dollar. No prob.”

Church rolls his eyes and retreats to the bakery again. If Tucker squints hard enough, he can see Tex and Caboose handling the crates of groceries in the back like the fucking lifting machines they are. This is it? Usually he works later in the morning, when there’s a herd of hungry commuters and soccer moms buying breakfast for their kids and stuff. Then the whole team is in here, and it’s alive, and it’s honestly not that miserable. But this? This is kinda sad. Just an empty bagel shop by the train station at two in the morning. Sad.

Tucker sighs and throws his bag and coat in the storage closet, then somehow hops the counter without tripping, ignoring Church’s shout of hey maybe don’t fucking do that, dipshit, and after a couple tries manages to tie his apron on.

He glances up at the clock. 2:02.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

He got weird looks from the cab driver. Of course he did. He’s wearing a full military uniform, cap and all, and he’s taking a yellow cab to the train station. What was he expecting?

Wash tips the guy extra and gets out of that cab as fast as his legs can take him. Probably feeling just as anxious, the cab driver speeds away down a side street, and just like that Wash is at the train station.

…What now?

His heart sinks as he checks his watch. 2:05. He’s early. Way too early, it’s a ghost town.

Wash sighs to himself and puts his cap into his side bag a little more forcefully than necessary. He’s taken the train exactly twice before—once for the preliminary hearing last week, and once to get back. He hated it both ways, the noise, the tight spaces. And even those didn’t leave at 3:03 in the morning on a Tuesday. 

Now he’s stranded here, waiting for that misery, for an hour.

There’s a bench not far away, and he’s still half asleep, so he walks towards it and takes a tired seat. God, he’s so tired. Hopefully he doesn’t fall asleep while being grilled alive during the hearing. That wouldn’t be good. Coffee, now that would be a lifesaver. Coffee with a couple pounds of sugar.

He looks around the station. It’s a fairly big town, and the station reflects that. Rows and rows of parking spots behind him, dozens of tracks in front of him, too many staircases and a bunch of closed stores and one really brightly lit place, gosh, and—

Wash does a double-take and looks back at the store that had caught his attention. That’s a bagel shop. An open bagel shop. Do those usually open this early?

His stomach grumbles, but he ignores it, purely because he’s riveted by the possibility of anything being open this fucking early in the morning. It’s literally the only source of light in the entire station right now. Even the moon pales in comparison.

He stares a little longer at the sign above the store. Pastry Train. The Pastry Train Donut and Bagel Emporium. The words are written in bright swirling blue on a white banner, which has been draped over the store’s awning, and on top of the shop is a statue of a big strawberry-frosted donut with an absurd amount of sprinkles that almost makes him smile.

The second time his stomach grumbles, he listens to it. He’s hungry. There’s a store right there. Food. Something to give him energy for as long as it takes for this thing to be over since it’s pretty obvious that he’s not gonna get another chance to eat until after the hearing.

He’s about to stand and go in there when he hears a loud crash from inside the building—and in the window he can see two people yelling over something, he can’t tell what, and just the idea of having to talk to people once inside suddenly keeps him firmly glued to the seat. He’s not very good at talking to people anymore. Before the project, maybe, but now

Nope. The thought of social interaction flashes red in his mind like a giant stop sign. Nope. No. No bagel is worth it.

…Except he’s really hungry. Almost nauseously so. And the more he stares at that ridiculously elaborate sign, the more he reads the words Pastry Train, the more he wants that bagel.

Nope. Nuh-uh.


No way.


Maybe they have coffee?

…Well, that kind of makes his decision for him. Coffee and a bagel. Perfect. It’s a combination just asking to be made.

Shouldn’t be hard, right? He survived Freelancer. He can survive getting a bagel.

Tucker doesn’t know how much longer he can survive and he’s been here eight minutes. Of course, he’s not quite lucid enough to keep track of that on his own. He only knows it’s been eight minutes because of the fact that, once every minute, Tex pokes her stupid blonde head out of the bakery to remind Tucker of how useless he is. She also reminds him of how long he’s been standing there, staring at the stove for no reason other than it looks shiny. Eight minutes.

But you know what? Tucker’s got who-knows-how-much vodka swimming around in his system right now, so he figures it’s better to be useless and staring off into space than handling money or making food that actual humans consume.

Tex pokes her head out and this time Tucker beats her to the punch. “Nine, I’m worthless, a bad father, drinking before the job is the same thing as drinking on it. Got it.”

“No—well, yeah, but…no. There’s a customer coming in.”

Tucker had been idly rolling a stack of pennies across the counter this entire time, but at the sound of a door opening he gets distracted and accidentally rolls it a little too hard and the stack flies off the counter towards the front of the store.

He lunges for the pennies a split second too late, and right as he does, the customer comes walking through the door and as if every existing god has decided to fuck with Tucker at the exact same time the stack rolls perfectly under the guy’s boot and there’s a sort of mild confusion in his eyes for an instant before he slips and falls backwards and bangs his head against one of the fridges. 

A sharp “Fuckslips from Tucker’s lips before he can catch it.

Tex pokes her head out of the kitchen one more time, looks at the customer, looks at Tucker, and goes back in. “Your mess.“

Shit. Shit shit. This is exactly why he shouldn’t be working at 2:09 in the morning. 

“Oh, man…” The customer moans and puts a hand to the back of his head, and some paternal-instinct-filled part of Tucker realizes that he should probably go check on him and make sure he didn’t actually get, y'know, hurt in any suable way or anything.

This time he ducks under the counter and approaches the customer, who’s looking less dazed now and way more embarrassed. His face, which Tucker thinks had been fairly pale for the split second in which the customer had been standing, is now a very vibrant shade of red, and it’s only making the splash of dark freckles over his nose more prominent, and his bright eyes even brighter and oh wow he’s actually pretty cute the longer Tucker looks at him—

The second that thought is even so much as a suggestion in his mind, Tucker is fucked. Irrevocably and utterly fucked. Once he sees it, he can’t avoid it, can’t look at the guy without acknowledging the fact that he is absolutely fucking adorable.

Having suddenly realized this, and being far too drunk to squash the sentiment down under some guise of professionalism, Tucker is instantly hyper-aware of how unable he is to form a complex sentence. “H-hey, uhhhhh…you, you okay?”

If possible, the customer looks more embarrassed, and he looks up at Tucker with what can only be described as pure shame in his eyes. That look lasts a few seconds before the guy starts to sit up, rubbing the back of his head again with a hiss of pain. “I…what just happened?”

I fucked up. “You, uh, you tripped. Totally. All you.”

That gets him a mild glare from the customer. “Did I?” the customer says in a voice that somehow manages to passively just bleed sarcasm while also sounding fucking dead inside.

I FUCKED UP. “Yep. It was pretty, uh, pretty weak.”


“Uhhhhhh, totally, yeah. Tripping in a bagel store? Yeah, we—“ 

Tucker hears the pun as it forms in his mind, knows that it’s happening, but for the life of him he doesn’t know how to stop it and all he can think about is bagels and it just slips out.

“—ll, I guess you just weren’t bready for it.”

Tucker can instantly feel his face going hot, and the silence that follows might as well just be filled with Tucker’s internal screaming. What are these words coming out of his stupid fucking mouth? This is not how helping goes. This is not how flirting goes—is he trying to flirt? Is that what this ridiculous drunken pun bullshit is? Because right now, this is how you get a trainwreck, and so far, Tucker would really appreciate a train wrecking him.

The customer looks up at him with an expression that can’t really be described as just dismay. Dismay isn’t strong enough to describe the utter agony in his eyes. His mouth opens and closes a couple times, like every time he’s thought of something to say back, he instantly decides against it.

This is a fucking nightmare.

The customer is silent for a few more seconds, then looks in anguish towards the door like it’s screaming his name. “I-I should go. This was a mistake, I should’ve just waited outsi—“

No!” Tucker blurts out, and the guy looks back at him, perplexed, and gosh, that’s cute. Fuck. Tucker tries again. “No, I-I mean, you came in for a bagel, right?”

It’s almost painful to watch the struggle going on in the customer’s mind as he decides if it’s worth it to reply.

“…And coffee,” he finally mutters.

“Right. Well, we…” Do they have coffee? Tucker thinks they’ve got coffee. Gahh, too much thinking for the morning. Fuck it. “Totally, dude. We totally have coffee.”

The customer’s expression loosens up noticeably, which Tucker takes as a sign. Of what, he’s not sure—he just knows that the guy is apparently more relaxed and that that’s better than if he’s not.

“I…” The customer sighs. “Sure. Why not.”

There’s silence for a moment, and on some weird instinct Tucker reaches out for the customer’s hand and the customer takes his and Tucker somehow manages to pull the guy to his feet without both of them falling over each other.

The customer smooths down his uniform, which somehow, Tucker hadn’t noticed before. That’s UNSC. That’s military. He just embarrassed himself in front of someone who can probably shoot him if he felt like it. What’s a military guy doing here this early—what’s a military guy even doing in this town? This sleepy little hell seems like the wrong place to find a guy like him.

“Um.” The customer coughs into a fist uncomfortably, managing to bring Tucker back to the present. “You also said something about a bagel?”

Oh, right. That.

This is going well.

So this is going badly.

Wash’s head swims, but he’s not sure if it’s the headache or the embarrassment tearing through his insides. The exit door is a black hole, and every few seconds, Wash has to check it to make sure it’s still there, ready to suck him in the abyss in case he decides to end his misery once and for all.

At least Wash is off his ass and on his feet. Better than nothing. Easier to run that way.

The clerk, the guy with the awful, awful pun, turns around and—for some reason Wash can’t even begin to understand—attempts to jump the counter into the back of the kitchen, but he doesn’t quite make it and he ends up half-stumbling his way over the counter and almost faceplanting on the floor before catching himself.

Almost immediately, there’s a shout from the back of the kitchen. “Tucker, I fucking told you that was going to happe—”

“Eat a dick,” the clerk spits back. 

As if suddenly aware of Wash’s eyes on him, the clerk—Tucker—makes a show of straightening up and leaning forward over the counter. “What?” he says, and the way he says it, it almost sounds like it’s meant to be sharp, but it comes out tired and slurred and like he’s not really all there.

“You, uh…” Let it go, Wash, let it go. “Nothing.”

Tucker gives him a very suspicious look. “Okay,” he says, not at all sounding okay.



There’s a really awkward silence again. Wash looks back at the door and waits patiently for a black hole to swallow him like he’d planned.

“Right,” Tucker says suddenly, whirling around back towards the kitchen. "Bagel. Hey, Church, uh, what’s the status on bagels?“

The same voice from before yells back, “Ten minutes.”

Oh, god. Ten minutes? Waiting here?

Tucker rolls his eyes, but at the same time his mouth pulls into a tight line and Wash immediately knows that it’s as awkward for Tucker as it is for him. At least that’s one thing they have in common.

Wash clears his throat awkwardly and shifts his bag on his shoulder, checking his watch. 2:11. Why can’t time just move faster?

He looks up and Tucker is staring at him, eyes narrow and confused. 

“So,” Tucker says, painfully awkward, drumming his fingers on the counter in an arrhythmic beat. “What’s with the suit?”

Alarms immediately go off in Wash’s head. Fuck. The whole Project Freelancer hearing is meant to be classified, but he hadn’t thought of a cover story before leaving the house in case people asked him about the uniform. And Wash is a very, very bad liar.

“I, uhhh—” Wash immediately blurts out the first army-esque thing he can think of. “Court martial.”

If possible, Tucker’s eyes get even narrower. “But isn’t that, like, criminal, or…or something?”

Yikes. This is uncomfortable. “W-well, yeah, but—”

“You a criminal? A bad dude?”

“No, I—”

Tucker scoffs. “Dude, I’m totally messing with ya. You, the guy who fell flat on his ass through no fault of my own, a bad guy? Doesn’t seed like it.”

Wash sighs tightly, thinking about the irony of what this guy’s just said to him— when his mind replays the sentence a second time and Wash hears it.

Wash looks sharply at Tucker, who’s just standing there, eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape, staring back. His face is turning red, bright and embarrassed like before—he knows.

“You did it again.”

Tucker looks broken. He knows.

There’s a raw agony in Wash voice when he repeats, “Doesn’t seed like it. You said seed—”

“I-I—fuck, it’s not like I meant to say it!” Tucker stammers back.

“Then why did you?!”

“I don’t know, okay?! It’s two in the fucking morning, sue me!”

Puns. Christ, Wash can’t fucking stand puns. They’re not even jokes, you’re just putting another stupid fucking word in the wrong fucking place and it’s not funny. He’d rather step in front of a moving train than hear another.

…Though. To be honest, Tucker looks like he feels the same way.

There’s complete and utter silence between the two of them as Tucker reaches for a coffee cup and forcefully holds it out for Wash. He motions over Wash’s shoulder at another counter, and Wash follows the gesture to see a couple containers of what he can only assume are coffee.

Oh, thank god.

Wash takes it without a word and moves over to the counter, avoiding the decaf one like the plague. He doesn’t look at Tucker, doesn’t even look up, just fills the cup with black coffee and then empties six sugar packs in, one by one.

Tucker makes a strange noise as Wash opens packet number seven. “Wow. That’s, uh, a lot of sugar. That for the court martial?”

Wash nods silently.

“Ah. Sweet.”

Wash’s hand slips and half the packet of sugar upends on the counter.

Again. Fucking again. First bread, then seeds, now sugar. Tucker has already ruined all three.

He checks his watch again. 2:15.

Let it go, Wash. Let. It. Go.

He swallows the shriek that’s currently developing in his throat and jams the lid of the coffee cup into place, sighing heavily, and goes back to his spot across from Tucker. Tucker, yet again, looks like he also would like to be anywhere that isn’t here. Good to know they’re in the same mental place.

“How much do I owe you?” Wash says, more of a groan than actual English. 

Tucker sighs and runs a hand over his face, glancing at the register. “I…fuck, man, nothing, just take the food. I’m sorry, I’m a piece of shit. Fuck.”

Oh. Well, that does make this marginally less horrible. Free breakfast. Well, not really free. Wash pays with his dignity.


Tucker sighs and leans back against the stove behind him, and Wash pulls out his phone, pressing the power button over and over, just to have something to do.

The minutes pass. One after another, after another. He doesn’t touch the coffee yet—too hot.

“What do you want?”

“Huh?” Wash says.

“Bagel. What bagel.”

“Oh. Oh, just plain.”

“…What, nothing on it?”

Nope. That means spending more time here. “Just plain.”

“That’s, uh, kinda—”

“Yeah, it’s plain, I got it,” Wash snaps. “It is a PLAIN bagel, and I am a PLAIN guy, and that’s the pun.”

There’s quiet for half a second before Tucker lets out a weird snort-laugh thing and suddenly he’s cackling, and Wash is just staring at him and the other people in the kitchen are staring at him and Tucker is just laughing ridiculously and for the life of him Wash doesn’t know why.

“…What. What?!” Wash half-stammers, half-snaps.

Tucker somehow manages to choke out words between gasps of laughter. “You—I just keep, I keep—making shitty puns and I-I can’t stop, but it’s bothering you so much, you look so good w-when you’re annoyed—”

Wash feels the blood rush to his head for a million different reasons. “I-I do not.”

He immediately knows that’s a mistake when a mischievous glint flashes in Tucker’s eyes. “Oh, really? You sure I-I’m not annoying you?”

“…I’m fine.”

“You sure I’m not getting on your nerves?”


“I-I donut think you’re being honest with me, buddy.”

Oh my god.

“Please,” Wash starts, “don't—”

“What? Are my puns too plain for you?”


Tucker must find this hysterical, because he’s still laughing, as Wash’s face continuously gets redder and redder. “You’d butter hope I donut keep going, because so far I haven’t even been using the pickup lines.”


Wash attempts to feign ignorance and takes a hearty swig of the coffee. Still too hot. Better than this, though, better than all of this.

“I could use some coffee jokes too, maybe embarrass you a little, but I wanna try and keep it to a light roast. Listen, baby, you may be plain, but I’ll be your everything. You make my heart whole. You fill the hole inside my bagel, bow chicka wow wow. You’re adorable, can’t you seed? You’re my jam, though I guess, not everyone puts jam on bagels so that might not be your cup of tea. Ooh, ooh and this one! When I look at you, you make me wanna cinnamon—”

Wash snorts—he can’t fucking help it at that last one—but he does it so hard that he ends up accidentally choking on the coffee in his mouth and he breaks into a coughing fit. Tucker’s still laughing, but after Wash finally stops coughing, he settles to a giddy smile, like he’s trying to hold in all the laughter.

“So you do laugh,” Tucker says, in an awfully teasing way, leaning forward on the counter. “Of all the puns, I can’t believe the cinnamon one was what got you.”

One of the people from the kitchen comes out and places a small brown bag on the counter, and Wash lunges for it immediately and starts for the door. Oh, god. Oh, god, what the fuck just happened. What the fuck just happened. He can feel himself sweating, and not just because of the uniform, but from the crippling embarrassment flooding his veins. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You make me wanna cinnamon. Cinnamon. Sin. Oh my god, what the fuck is going on. Was that an actual pickup line?? Was that just a joke?? Why why why why oh my god oh my god he needs to get out of here oh my god oh my god oh my god—

Wash pushes the door open, but he’s barely looked outside when he hears Tucker behind him.

“Hey, uh, so if you end up, y'know, wanting another bagel or something when you get back from whatever the fuck you’re doing, I’ll be a round. A round. Like a bagel. Get it?”

Wash slams the door.