seriously though can you imagine him trying to logic his way through it

Day 1

((Thank you for your kind response!!! I hope you all enjoy this part too!!

CW: mentions of neurological disorder, some cursing ))

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New to the story? Check out: The Story So Far: Masterlist

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“…should we do? Logan?” 

“I told you, just give him a minute. I’m sure it was a shock to see us for the first time.” 

“Must’ve at least been a shock to see Roman.” 

“Hey!” 

“Virgil, that’s not helping.” 

“Wasn’t trying to help.” 

“Should I get the smelling salts?” 

“Only if he fainted in the 1920s.”

“Actually, more like the 1880s. Smelling salts were used most frequently when corsets were in fashion, due to the–”

“Aaaand there he goes.” 

“The point is, I seriously doubt he has smelling salts, Patton.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I don’t even think those are a thing anymore.” 

“They most certainly are. They were traditionally composed of ammonium carbonate, though modern solutions often include things like lavender and eucalyptus, and–”

“Fascinating as this is, I think he’s coming around on his own.” 

“Thomas? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” 

Thomas didn’t want to open his eyes. Thomas very much didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew if he did, there would be one of two outcomes. In outcome number one, he would open his eyes and the room would be empty, and this would all have been a very strange dream. A good, if oddly disappointing and bittersweet, scenario. 

Outcome number two, on the other hand, was a good deal more…complicated. Outcome number two involved looking up and finding his Sides staring down at him–four identical copies of his own face, existing as if they had any right to do so here in the real world. And as incredible as that might be, outcome number two came with baggage; baggage to the tune of hospital visits, MRIs, CAT scans, Therapists, and a barrage of medication. 

And the closer his brain swam toward consciousness, the more likely option number two was sounding. Because those voices weren’t fading away like a strange and vivid dream. If anything, they were getting clearer. 

And then there was the fact that someone was touching him. 

Someone was touching him. 

There was a hand on his shoulder someone was someone was touching–

He yelped, eyes flying open, and four startled faces drew back from where they’d been leaning over him. Four faces that were completely identical to his own, save for the tiniest of differences (the glasses, for one; Patton and Logan both wore them and they were real, there were lenses, not just frames, and Patton really did have freckles, and Virgil’s face was gaunt and paler than the others’ and was Roman’s jaw a little more squarish than the others and oh my gosh why is he worrying about what they look like when he should be–)

“Don’t,” Virgil said abruptly, voice strong and almost commanding, and Thomas’s panicked train of thought screeched to a halt. He stared up at the personification of his own anxiety, and saw Virgil was taking deep breahts through his nose. 

“Don’t,” the side said again, softer now. “You’ll set us both off if you start on that.” 

“Start…” Thomas found he had to swallow, as his voice came out a mere croak. “Don’t start…?” 

“The panic thing,” Virgil explained. “Normally I’m all for it, but right now…”

“It’s not going to be particularly productive,” said Logan, and oh God, it was Logan, he’d know that sharp, shrewd expression anywhere, and–

“Am I…dreaming?” Thomas managed. 

“If so, I’m not doing it,” Roman said, sitting back a little with a sheepish shrug. His voice was rich,deep and full and somehow…regal, even though he looked like he felt anything but. “Not this time.” 

“Then…then how…?” 

“To be honest with you, kiddo, we’re all kind of wondering the same thing.” Patton, and was it Thomas’s imagination or was the paternal side a little…softer around the edges than the others…? 

“All we know is we were doing our thing, safely tucked away into your mind, and now…well, here we are.” Logan spread his arms to encompass all of Thomas’s apartment. All of his one bedroom apartment, Thomas thought suddenly, and the absurdly panicked thought about where he would put all of them surfaced along with an insane urge to laugh. 

The sides were looking at him warily, and Thomas wondered just how much of his thoughts and feelings they could pick up on. Were they still…his sides? Were they still capable of influencing his decisions and his thoughts and emotions? Was he still even him, without–

Okay, why was he thinking about all of this like it was real?

“I’m losing my mind,” he mumbled, dropping his head into his hands. 

“No; we’re all right here,” Patton said. 

Thomas peeked up at them in time to see Logan rolling his eyes and Virgil smirking. Roman had situated himself half-behind Thomas, and laid a supportive hand on Thomas’s shoulder. 

A supportive, real, solid hand. 

What the actual flipping fuck? 

“Okay,” he managed. “Okay. So. I, uh…” 

“Yeah,” Virgil said dryly. “That’s kinda where we are on the whole thing.” 

“How long have you been here?” Thomas asked, remembering that they’d all been asleep, sprawled out on his couch when he’d come down the stairs. 

“Since about midnight,” Roman said with a sigh. 

“The witching hour,” Virgil intoned, wriggling his fingers. 

“Right.” 

“Did that have something to do with–?” 

“Heck if I know.” Roman shrugged. “The dragon witch is only a figment of your imagination. It’s not like she has any real power.” 

“Excuse me, but I was under the impression that all of you were figments of my imagination,” Thomas grumbled. “Yet here we are.” 

“Here we are indeed.” 

“We’re not imaginary,” Roman said slowly, as if he were thinking it through. “Not precisely. We’re part of you. We are you, just…you in pieces.” 

“Yeah, I know. I created you that way. For a youtube series.” Thomas climbed to his feet, agitated, and began to pace what little bit of his floor didn’t have a side on it. “You can’t be here. You’re not real.” 

“While I’d normally be inclined to agree,” Logan said dryly, “even I have to take empirical evidence into consideration. We appear to be very real indeed.” 

“How are you okay with this?” Thomas demanded, pausing to glare at Logan. “You’re supposed to be my logical side. I’d think this would be driving you crazy.” 

Logan tilted his head in a kind of shrug. “Logically,” he said, “there have to be plenty of things that are within the realm of reason and possibility that I simply do not know about.” 

“More things in heaven and earth,” Roman quoted softly. 

“And you’re just…okay with this being one of them?” 

“Thomas, I may not know what’s going on, but I’m quite capable of seeing that our current course of action is not getting us very far,” Logan said, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You have the evidence of your senses that we are real, and here. What more would you have?” 

“But you’re my characters,” Thomas exploded. “I play you. I put on make up or costumes or both and I read off the script that Joan and I–”

He froze, looking down at them, as the answer clicked into place. He saw it dawning on the rest of them, as they glanced at each other, then back up at him. And then, as one, they all spoke: 

“Joan.” 

“Thomas, that’s brilliant!” Patton cried. “Call Joan! They’ll know what to do!” 

“More importantly,” Logan said, rising to his feet, “they’ll be able to tell you whether or not we are really here. If they can see us–”

“Then I’m not having a nervous breakdown,” Thomas finished. 

“And if they can’t?” Virgil said. 

“Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it, kiddo,” Patton told him gently. “Thomas is freaked out enough already.” 

“And that is a very good sign,” Roman concluded. When the others looked at him, bewildered, Roman shrugged. “Well, think about it. If he were really having a nervous breakdown, this would feel…normal to him. Wouldn’t it?” 

“Putting that time you played Sigmund Freud in middle school to good use, I see,” Virgil said dryly. 

“He may have a point, actually,” Logan said. “Much as it pains me to admit it. Thomas, you’re aware we shouldn’t be here. Which means that you are, at least, still aware of how reality should function.” 

“And aware of the fact that it’s decidedly not,” Thomas said. He sighed, and pulled out his phone, thumbing in Joan’s number. “They’re going to have me committed,” he mumbled.Then, when Joan answered, their voice groggy, Thomas said, “Hey, uh…Joan? Could you come over, please?” 

“Thomas?” Joan’s voice sharpened. They sounded worried. “Is everything okay?” 

Thomas looked at his sides each in turn, then huffed softly, a not-quite laugh of bemusement. 

“I’m going to need you to tell me,” he said. 

Keep reading

Too Late

Plot: You never really knew that it was too late, until you saw him standing in the end of the aisle, smiling at his fiancé. 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: Angst, non-idol au!

Note: I took quite a while with this, considering it’s exam week(s). Writing is pretty much my escape/break. Namjoon deserves so much more appreciation, so I gave this my all~ I hope you like it. 1,387 Words

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

How did you manage to fuck up this bad?

“Kim Namjoon, do you take Park Mari to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

You had 15 whole years to admit your feelings to him; 15 whole years to tell him that the only thing on your mind, no matter where you were, was your best friend. Yet, you told yourself you never got the time. You always said that you would do it tomorrow, but you just couldn’t. You would always leave him with other girls, because you had no self worth – or maybe you were just too much of a coward to ruin what you already shared with him.

“I do.”

Keep reading

In Your Crosshairs

Author: @punkof-pop
Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader
Words: 6,782
Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels (sorry, not sorry)
A/N: I wrote this for @fillthevoid-stilinski  ‘s writing challenge and it was honestly a lot of fun! It gave me way more motivation. Also, I was listening to Copacetic by Knuckle Puck (as I do every week in preparation for Shapeshifter) and the song In Your Crosshairs seemed to fit so I strongly recommend! Let me know what you guys think and if you wanna be tagged.
Prt. 2, Prt. 3, Prt. 4
Masterlist
Prompt list

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

It’s a crisp night for California but you’re still out walking, hoodie wrapped around your arms. This is a terrible idea and you know it but there’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you to suck it up and just do it. The worst possible thing that can happen is you end up dead but everyone dies eventually, might as well take the risk.

You approach the black truck that’s parked, engine off, in an open parking lot. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the sight and idiotic parking place. You thought it was just a rumor, someone mistaking him for someone else but that’s his truck.

You tap the window and the sleeping chimera wakes up almost immediately. “I’m going, I’m going.” He grumbles without even looking to the window.

He looks to you with wide eyes as you point for him to roll the window down but he simply opens the door. “Wasn’t asking you to leave.” You sigh, still in disbelief you’re standing here.

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For my lovely follower @paris-obsession-love who requested my crazy thoughts

A Jungkook Loves Jimin/Jeon is Whipped Analysis (? Thoughts/Theories)

*This is super long because Jungkook’s love for Jimin is boundless*

Jungkook stares at Jimin, even when Jimin isn’t talking. And ISTG the stares are so loaded. He watches him with this intense adoration sometimes that even I start to get flustered (I can only imagine how Jimin feels). He would have a little smile or this soft look in his eyes too. Sometimes the stares get (dare I say) heated and full of tension?! He’d be watching Jimin’s lips intensely (to the point where he can pick something off of it). Sometimes with these hooded eyes. Other times he isn’t even watching Jimin’s face but instead the Jibooty (sometimes while biting his lip or playing with his zipper). And once he starts staring, it seems like he can’t stop. And he knows it. So instead he tries to watch Jimin periodically and ends up throwing 50,000 glances at him in one sitting. He smiles whenever Jimin does anything (talking, being cute, playing around, dancing, singing). Even when Jimin does his horror aegyo, he looks like if he just saw the cutest thing on the planet. He even laughs when Jimin laughs, because it’s Jimin that is laughing (what cute shit is this -_-).

Keep reading

Lightweight Killua AU

An AU for Lightweight Killua Headcanon

“You’re lying.” Gon stared at Killua dumbfounded, “There’s no way you’re telling the truth.” 

“I told you a million times. I’m immune to poisons- that includes alcohol, dummy.” Killua said, still looking through the aisle of different shaped bottles of various alcohols. “Logically, that means I can drink as much as I want and won’t feel a thing.”

“Still, though. I don’t buy it.” Gon pouted and Killua rolled his eyes at him.

“Too bad. It’s the truth. I can drink whatever I want and not have to worry about getting drunk.” Killua smirked, “You, on the other hand, would probably fall over after one drink.”

“I would not! I could handle drinking. Mito-san just never let me…” Gon stated, huffing. “And if you’re such a heavyweight, prove it. I wanna see.”

“Of course she wouldn’t let you drink! We’re underage!” Killua said, his eyebrows raised, “And fine! I will! I’ll drink all night and watch you get drunk.”

You’re the one getting drunk. It’s impossible to be immune to alcohol. You have to feel at least something.” Gon said, looking at all of the bottles before picking a couple- more out of looks than out of actual contents since he wasn’t exactly experienced with anything like this. Killua rolled his eyes before grabbing a few random bottles himself.

“Uh huh. Sure. I wonder what kind of drunk you’ll be. Hopefully not a loud one.” Killua winced, imagining an overly drunk Gon speaking ten decibels higher than normal.

“I bet you’ll be a funny drunk.” Gon said after some thought once they got to the checkout. The cashier eyed them suspiciously.

“Aren’t you kids a little young for drinking? Can I see some IDs?” He said sternly, looking from Killua to Gon.

“We’re sixteen!” Gon grinned, getting wacked on the back of the head by Killua.

“And we have these.” Killua handed the cashier his Hunter’s License as Gon pulled out his. The cashier sighed before bagging the drinks, waving them off.

“Go ahead.” He rubbed his temples, “Just… Don’t get into any trouble. I don’t need the Hunters Association giving me crap for giving kids alcohol.”

“Thanks!” Gon beamed, grabbing the bags.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry!” Killua smirked and followed Gon out the door.


When they got back to their hotel room, the boys put out their spread of alcohol on the table. They’d ended up with tequila, vodka, wine, gin and whiskey. Gon stared as Killua got some paper cups from the counter before opening the bottles. 

“Ew that smells disgusting.” Gon scrunched up his nose as the smell hit him. Killua rolled his eyes before picking up the bottle of gin and pouring a little in a cup.

“It’s supposed to. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Don’t be such a baby, Gon.” Killua teased, handing his friend the cup and pouring himself one. Gon stared at the contents unsure and Killua struggled not to laugh. “Just drink it.” 

“You haven’t had yours either!” Gon said, whining. 

“Okay fine. On three?” Killua suggested and Gon nodded. “One… Two… Three!” 

Both boys downed the cups of straight gin before their eyes widened. Gon spit hit out back into the cup, coughing. Killua clamped one hand over his mouth, the other clutching the counter as he struggled to swallow the liquid. When he succeeded, he gasped and coughed, his face red from the burning. He looked at Gon who’s eyes were watering.

“Th-That was horrible!” Gon said, before laughing, “Y-You should see your face, Killua! It’s so red!”

“Speak for yourself! You look like you’re crying your eyes are so watery!” Killua laughed. “Ugh, that tasted awful. Like antiseptic or something.” 

“Yeah, my throat- Wait a minute. You’re having more?” Gon said, staring in shock as Killua eyed the bottle of vodka suspiciously before pouring some.

“I said I was gonna drink all night, didn’t I? I have a point to prove. You want some, lightweight?” Killua said, waving the bottle in front of Gon tauntingly. Gon narrowed his eyes and snatched it, pouring some into his cup- already partially filled with gin. 

“Cheers?” Killua grinned, hitting Gon’s cup with his before they both forced it down.


“Heh, my face feels hot.” Killua blinked a few times, trying to make the room stop. Gon eyed him warily, looking suspiciously sober to Killua. “Hey, you haven’t drinked… drunk… drank… what’s the past tense?”

“Killua, maybe you should stop. You look pretty drunk.” Gon said, getting up from his bed to throw away his cup. Killua frowned stubbornly.

“No, you aren’t even drunk. And I am not drunk. And we have all this stuff to drink.” Killua slurred, stumbling a bit to the counter. Gon sighed, walking over to him, taking a bottle from his hands.

“It’s almost all gone anyway. And you are too drunk.” Gon said, crossing his arms. His cheeks were pink but for the most part, Gon had proven to be the one who could handle his liquor. “Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” But Killua was already shaking his head, a dazed look in his blue eyes.

“‘m still thirsty.” He reached for the tequila before Gon swatted his hand away, a glare in his eyes.

“No, Killua. If you’re thirsty, I’ll get you water.” Gon said, his arms crossed, “I mean, sheesh, this stuff doesn’t even taste good. A stupid bet isn’t worth it. And you’re already drunk anyway- so you lost.” 

“Say, Gon, you’re really hot.” Killua said seriously, staring intently at the teen in front of him. Gon flushed brightly in surprise.

“H-Huh?” Gon squeaked.

“You are. You were cute before. But now you’re really hot.” Killua tilted his head a bit, his eyes glossing over Gon’s body. “Really, really, hot.” 

“Y-You’re drunk. You don’t mean that.” Gon laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. 

“I do, though. You’re really hot and really amazing.” Killua hugged Gon’s body before he could stop it.

“K-Killua, l-let go.” Gon blushed, trying to wiggle his way out of Killua’s hold but succeeded only in having Killua draped along his back, his arms around Gon’s neck.

“Why is something so bright friends with me?” Killua mumbled, nuzzling Gon’s neck, eliciting a squeak from him.

“Where’s all this coming from?” His voice rising an octave when Killua tightened his hold on him.

“I never said ‘nything ‘cause I love you.” Killua slurred, before hiccuping. Gon’s breath hitched, as Killua continued. “You’re just so happy, you know? And you’re friends with me. I followed you on your date with Palm that one time because I wanted you to ask me out. But you’re a stupid head and-”

“W-Wait, you love me?” Gon whispered, a permanent blush staining his cheeks. Killua glared, rubbing his cheek on the back of Gon’s neck.

Yeah. You gotta pay ‘tention, dummy. I’ve loved you for forever. You’re really cute and-” 

“It’s not nice to lie, Killua. Even if you are drunk.” Gon’s voice shook a bit, trying to process it. Killua growled in frustrated and stumbled off of Gon before grabbing his face in his hands.

“’m not drunk. And I’m not lying!” Gon barely had time for his eyes to widen in surprise before Killua yanked their lips together.


Ugh, dammit…” Killua grumbled, feeling the contents of his stomach sloshing dangerously. He planted his face further into his pillow in an effort to block out any daylight. His head pounded, his stomach hurt more than it had in years, and he couldn’t remember a thing.

“Um, Killua?” Gon asked quietly, holding a glass of water some pain medications. “A-Are you feeling alright?” Killua stayed silent so he pressed further, “Killua?”

“I lost, okay? I got drunk. Big whoop.” Killua muttered, looking up to glare at Gon- only to find the boy looking away, a red blush across his cheeks. “Gon? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. Um, here’s some medicine and some water.” Gon practically thrust the items at Killua without looking at him. 

“Thanks…” Killua eyed Gon suspiciously as he took the medicine, cringing as his stomach lurched a bit. He set the glass down on the bedside table. “What…What happened last night? I don’t really remember much after we got into the vodka…” Killua’s cheeks turned pink, imagining what he could have said or done.

“You don’t remember anything?” Gon said, looking back at Killua surprised. Killua shook his head, gingerly sitting up.

“Nope. Nothing. I remember feeling kinda funny and I remember you asking me if I was okay. But I wanted to win and figured I could shake it off. Guess not.” Killua said sheepishly, still wondering why Gon was acting so weird. “So, what’d I do?”

“You, um…” Gon chewed his lip, “ran outside in your underwear. Sorry, I tried to stop you but you were kinda fast…” Killua sat there before his face turned from shy to mortified.

“Wh-What?! No way. There’s no way I did that.” Killua said, panicking. He looked up, catching a glimpse of guilt in Gon’s eyes. His own eyes narrowed, “You liar.”

“I didn’t lie!” Gon glared at the accusation- no matter how true it was, he was not a liar.

“Yes, you did! You have guilt written all over your face!” Killua ignored the urge to throw up and the way his head was screaming at him to lie back down.

“Ugh, fine! I lied! There, you happy?” Gon groaned, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I’d be happier if you would just tell me what happened!” Killua said, really panicking at this point. Why wouldn’t Gon look at him without getting all flustered.

“Okay, okay… You kinda, sorta, called me hot.” Gon flushed. Killua blinked before glaring at him.

“You’re lying again!”

“I am not! You said you loved me too!” Gon yelled his blush bright. He watched Killua’s cheeks turn pink. “If you don’t believe me, you said you followed me on my date with Palm because you were jealous and-”

“I was not! She was crazy and I didn’t trust you with her!” Killua’s eyes widened before he turned an even darker shade of red. Gon was in the same boat, torn between teasing his best friend, and pressing him for more of a confession- a sober one. 

“S-So… do you?” Gon started, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Do I what? Do I think you’re hot? Because the answer is no. You are not hot right now.” Killua huffed, getting up and walking towards the bathroom. Something in Gon’s eyes sparked, a grin reaching across his face.

Right now? You mean I normally look hot? Or just sometimes?” Gon teased, following him. He could see Killua’s ears turn red as he stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

“I am never drinking with you again!” Killua yelled from inside the bathroom and Gon couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling in from his chest.

Inspired by talks with @mowedith 💜
Weightless In Love

Warnings: Nothing 

Word Count: 1000+ 

Pairing: Dracoxreader

summary: Draco and reader be fluffy asf and skip calss to stay in bed 

requested: no LMFAO I can’t remember 

Originally posted by evenifidieitsjimin


Maybe it was the way he pulled you back into bed, or maybe it was the way he smiled, nevertheless, Draco had found a way to get you to skip classes for a day and sit in bed with him.
Soft and warm— Your hands were soft and warm on his face. On his chest, under the covers, under the table in the dining hall. All while the light was streaming. The morning time was Draco’s favorite part of the day. Calm and bright.
Your fingertips were like matches, grazing the lace of his skin with a flame. You both sat facing each other. Your legs hung over the sides of his body, as his legs laid under yours uncasing you into his body.
“How did you convince me to do this?” You laughed quietly into his ear. “I should be in class.”  Your warm breath tickled his eardrum, but he liked the sensation. Draco’s lips crept into a grin. He kissed the top of your forehead.  
“When you have a boyfriend with this much charm, it’s hard to resist.” and you could not disagree he was very charming. But of everything you guys ever did, it was looking into his eyes that you loved most. That’s all you’d ever needed to connect, only the eyes, and with no words, your love would be the same.
He loved to touch you too— not in a sexual way. Never anywhere that wasn’t your face, your hands, or your hair that fell in tousled locks.  
On the side of you on his bed was a tray, it held pastries and tea, anything you wanted Draco would get for you all you had to do was ask. His hands ran through your hair and down towards the crook of your nose and over your lips. He admired you like any boy would.
“You know you have a scar right here,” You observed. “Right above your neck and under your chin; unnoticeable.” You lifted his jaw and looked at it. “Very faint.” He chuckled at your observation.
“I wonder who gave me that?” He replied playfully.
“If you’re saying it’s me, I certainly don’t remember any such thing.”
“Than let me show, maybe then you might remember.” And so he leaned into your neck and began kissing your shoulder, leaving trails of hot kisses and cold shadows where his mouth once was. It traveled to your collarbones, biting and sucking on the areas Draco thought was fit. Then, he traveled up to your neck, and even higher, just below your chin have you felt a little sting.
“Draco,” you hummed at him, as you both let laughter flow out of your throats. He smiled and recovered his breath.
“Do you remember now?” He asked you with a smile.
“No, but if you would like to try again I would be up for it.” he laughed at your attempt.
“I would rather not, but we can do other things,” He simpered as he traced invisible tattoos onto your neck.
“The skin underneath your eyes get really red, it’s cute, even though you look high.” He rolled his eyes and ran his hands up your bare thighs.
“Anything else that you want to make known about my appearance?” You nodded vigorously.
“You should not keep your hair gelled, it looks better all messy—sexy even.”  But Draco wasn’t listening, instead, he was counting how many freckles you had on your arm. You smiled at him and began counting the freckles on his arm. And once you got to his last tiny freckle, he spoke.
“You know you have 15 freckles on your arm,” He mocked you.
   “You have 23, Draco,” You smiled beamed back at him. “And it seems that I can count faster than you if I started later and finished the same time.” Draco let out an exasperated yell.
“Logic is stupid, Y/n, how about we don’t use it? It’s always more exciting.” You smiled at him and chuckled.
“Fine. You want to see me use no logic or common sense?” He nodded and kissed your lips. “Okay well…” You thought for a moment. What was something Draco would shudder at the thought at? “ A new sex position.” He smirked slightly.
“I like that.” He said, but you nearly cut his tongue with how fast you replied after.
“On the ceiling.” He laughed in disbelief.
“Y/N? On the ceiling? You can’t be serious,” he laughed at you, leaning in a kissing the top of your forehead.
“You have a wand Draco, I think you could figure it out,” You smirked at him
He kissed you and the world fell away. Like the outside world was slowly melting away like snow and all was left was you and Draco. His kiss was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Of course, Draco could always blow you away with his gentle voice. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled. Your fingers knotted in his hair your other hand pushed his back closer into you. As if there was any more room to close— there wasn’t. You lost your breath fast, it took a lot from you to kiss him like you had.
You smiled knowing well that he was about to seduce you. His touch grew softer and more delicate and when he spoke now the lilt in his voice showed.
“The ceiling huh?” he smirked. Soon he was completely on top of you pressing his lips to yours. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff.” He gripped your thigh hard and smirked. “I could be doing my school work Y/N, but instead I’m doing you.”
Somehow you couldn’t believe that you got yourself. Having sex on the ceiling was never something you would come up with, it was a mere joke that Draco took seriously, and you really couldn’t complain if it was going to happen.
Slowly as your kisses got deeper, you felt yourself no longer on the comfort of his silk sheets, instead, you felt yourself drifting into the air, weightless and in love, you drifted higher and higher. Draco turned you around so your back was towards the ceiling and you knew that this was something everyone was going here about tomorrow.

Different Earth's, Same Idea

Sorry for the wait! Enjoy!

Request: You’re Barry’s sibling on this earth and Cisco and you’ve never thought about a relationship ever. But then an alternate you pops in for some reason and lays one on Cisco which makes you super jealous and everything super awkward. But you all get a happy ending. (Word Count: 3884)

Originally posted by sssssssim

Growing up as Barry’s little sister wasn’t always easy. After we’d lost our Mom and our father was arrested, things were just slightly different. Yes, we were close, but I think we were both too afraid of losing the other that there was always a distance between us.

As a result, our paths, while traveled together, always had some firm line between it. He became a forensic scientist and I became a sketch artist, both working for CCPD. Living with the Wests was great, but again, that line was always there between Barry and Iris and I, most likely due to the three year age difference we shared. Even when Barry started spending more time at STAR Labs, I wasn’t immediately notified of the major effect of his lightning incident because Joe wanted to keep his girls safe. Iris was a reporter that had a knack for discovering things, and I was only aware of something if it was drawn out right in front of me. Naturally, you can guess who found out Barry’s big secret first.

And after that, it was like a light had switched back on. Learning how our mother died and that Barry now had the power to protect us seemed to immediately close whatever distance he and I had created. It was a closure to a traumatizing night we both desperately needed. And it was one thing that Eobard Thawne had managed to do right: merge my brother and I’s paths back onto the same road.
 As a result, I had two other families I fit in with: the Wests and the STAR Labs team.

And that’s all we were. Family. No harboring feelings for anyone, good or bad. I wasn’t secretly longing for a certain mechanical engineer that was a great friend for both Barry and I.

At least… I think that was the case. Until she had come along.


It was a good night as Team Flash celebrated another win. Caitlin and I were heading the Cortex as both Barry and Cisco were out on the field, an exciting moment for both guys as it was the first official outing for Vibe, and so far it was going really well.

“Alright, boys! That’s a wrap for tonight, so go ahead and come back so the Doctor can patch you up!” I smirked at Caitlin as I leaned back in the chair. I could hear the two superheroes’ confirmation and rolled my chair towards the brunette.

“Yes?”

“We never finished our conversation.” Caitlin rolled her eyes with a gentle smile.

“We went out for dinner and had a nice time.” At my grin, she shook her head. “It really isn’t anything. Julian and I are just friends!”

“Uh-huh. Surrre.”

She glared at me, losing the seriousness as a small grin was on her face. Her grin widened though as she squinted her eyes briefly. “What about you? Anyone caught your eye lately?”

I thought briefly about it. Between work at CCPD and work at STAR Labs, there really wasn’t anytime to see or meet anyone new. The closest I got to hanging out with another male (that wasn’t my brother) was Cisco and our office movie nights. It was a way to keep ourselves sane during nights when he needed to work on superhero stuff and I needed to work on police stuff (and there were plenty of them).

Subconsciously, I smiled as I remembered last night’s argument over The Princess Bride, a movie I refused to see simply because it ticked Cisco off.

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A Pepperony Shipper’s Defense of the “Civil War” Separation

First of all, yes, I was just as gobsmacked and pissed off as every other Tony/Pepper fan upon seeing Captain America: Civil War for the first time. Like, WTF and where did that come from and WHY and HOW?? It kind of took me out of the movie at certain points and, I can say now after calming down and having some perspective, kind of tainted my memory of the movie and caused me to remember it as being not as good as it actually is (although I still really liked it). Until I recently bought it on Blu-ray and watched it again, ready to roll my eyes at the references to the break-up, and how it was handled. But now that I wasn’t so taken aback and emotional about it, and have the comfort of knowing they eventually reconciled, I can analyze it more objectively, and really, it wasn’t bad. In fact, it actually worked really well for the story and Tony’s character development. Yes, character development, which isn’t always the deepest or most perfectly handled aspect of the MCU. But there is a cohesive through-line for Tony, that comes to a head in Civil War. He had a near-death experience in The Avengers, which caused him to have PTSD in Iron Man 3, then the combination of these experiences and Wanda giving him the vision of helplessness in the face of other-worldly danger lead him to create Ultron, which contributed to his guilt complex, as well as Pepper leaving him in between movies, both of which lead to his actions in Civil War. And yes, the reason Pepper wasn’t in the movie was because Gwyneth hadn’t renewed her contract yet so they had to write around that, but as far as cases of Real Life Writes The Plot go, I think they handled it very well. Because they didn’t just flimsily write around it, they used it. From the writers’ commentary:

“Yeah, the intent in this movie, because we knew where we were going with the character - that we had to motivate Tony to want to kill Bucky Barnes in the 3rd act - in order for the third act to work correctly, that Tony would have to be off balance. And the way that we thought we could make him off balance was by pulling things out of his life, making him emotionally vulnerable, really emotionally vulnerable. So Pepper is out of his life, it clearly is an issue for him…”

Yes! Visibly so. Their status was depressingly uncertain, and Pepper wasn’t physically in Civil War, but she was with Tony all up and through the movie. Her absence had him all types of messed up. That moment when he sees her name on the teleprompter is pure heartbreak. His political position was partially taken to try and mend their relationship and keep her in his life. There was the “I’ve been picturing a redhead” moment on the jet. And we know damn well he wasn’t picturing Natasha.

They then go on to mention that right after he gets all shook after seeing Pepper’s intro on the unchanged teleprompter (which RDJ nailed, btw, he looked so devastated. My Pepperony heart!), he’s confronted by the mother of the young man who died in Sokovia in Age of Ultron, dredging up his culpability and guilt for that whole mess.

“He’s being attacked emotionally on a lot of different fronts, and it puts [him] in a precarious position. So as the movie progresses, there is a touchstone or if something cathartic were to happen to him, it could potentially push him over the edge. Which is what happens at the end of the film.”

Personally, I’d much prefer that, if an important character has to be absent (for the second movie in a row, no less), their absence is felt and relevant to the appropriate other characters, instead of just casually hand waved away in one or two lines of dialogue as if their presence doesn’t matter either way. That way where it’s almost meta winking at the audience like, You all know this character isn’t here because of whatever actor reasons, so we won’t even bother to have their absence mean anything and this mention is purely perfunctory. And sure, in some cases that’s ok, but in this movie, where Tony’s the 2nd lead and a big part of the plot hinges on his state of mind at the time, his other half semi-dumping him would be a pretty big deal. And in my opinion, it was successfully portrayed as being a big, painful deal.

One specific complaint I’ve seen a lot, though, is that it didn’t make sense for Pepper to leave Tony after everything they’d been through, after how IM3 ended, and so all of a sudden. And yes, to us, it was out of nowhere, considering how IM3 ended and Tony jokingly mentioning maybe buying Pepper a farm at the end of AoU. Such is a potential pitfall of telling a story by way of a movie-verse, as opposed to a TV series, where the story can be told bit by bit, week after week. We only see a certain amount of story development on-screen, and a year or two or more apart. But looking at the big picture, we should take into account that Tony was in a whole other movie, sans Pepper, between IM3 and Civil War - Ya know, the one where his own creation tried to wipe out humanity, before he made that quip about buying a farm. So by the time of Civil War, he delivers this bit of emotionally significant exposition to Steve:

“A few years ago I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then we had to mop up Hydra…and then Ultron. My fault. And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don’t wanna to stop. I don’t want to lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference. In her defense, I am a handful.”

I’ll say. But seriously, so much about this little monologue, and it all makes logical sense. At the end of IM3 he made her a promise - maybe an impulsive, emotionally charged one, but a promise nonetheless - that he would give up Iron Man-ing. For her! But then bad shit kept happening (as it does), and he kept jumping into the fray. And maybe at first, she understood that, since the events of IM, he’s got this sense of responsibility and protection that he just can’t shake, Iron Man is just a part of him now, and maybe she didn’t rigidly hold him to a decision he made when she had just almost died and he had just had heart surgery. He was pretty fragile at the time, OK? But then Ultron happened…dear god, Ultron. His fault. He was unquestionably portrayed as being responsible for that ensuing mess. To the audience, to the other Avengers who told him to his face what a terrible idea it was, both before and after the fact, to himself. But then there’s Pepper. And yes, it sucks that we didn’t get this on screen and it’s left to our imaginations as to how exactly it played out. But seriously, imagine it. In my assumption, when they saw each other again after AoU, Tony received the dressing down of his life. Anything Howard might’ve said to him in the past can’t even compare. I can almost guarantee Pepper ripped him several new ones before she left. And he wouldn’t have been able to say shit, besides maybe “Please, baby, don’t leave me”, because he did royally fuck up. Probably even beyond Pepper’s comprehension at the time. Like, I go away for less than 2 weeks, and you create something that almost destroys the world?? How even does that happen? And after he was supposed to be dialing back on all this. To be fair though, it was a bit of his misguided attempt to put something in place that would allow him to at least semi-retire, but still. Major backfire. So I can totally see how she would’ve been, not only upset and disappointed enough to need space and time to think about their relationship and if she could really still be with him, but also utterly pissed and stressed. To the point where she’s like, I just can’t even deal with you right now. And there actually is a bit of precedent for that. When she almost resigned from her job at the end of IM2 because dealing with Tony and the drama that comes with him was just too damn much. Before they were even a couple. Summed up by Pepper going, “I never know if you’re gonna kill yourself or wreck the whole company.” And then a few years later he goes and almost wrecks the whole of civilization, oops. I see how she was like, Yeah I need to back away from aaaaall thissss for the time being.

Speaking of, Tony and the movie never definitively gave the impression that they were over and done forever, Pepper never to be seen again. That’s what most of us took from it, because we were shocked, and freaking out that something big and bad did happen with their relationship, and their future certainly wasn’t looking too bright. But going by Tony’s words and taking them at face value (instead of any speculation that he was trying to make it seem not so bad, or was in denial), he said they were “taking a break”. Not to get into too much semantics a la Friends, but that’s technically not a one-and-done break-up. That’s more like actress availability relationship limbo. Or maybe in Tony’s case, probation. Whatever the deal was, they were on the precipice, but hadn’t totally fallen off the cliff yet. And he didn’t say that he wanted her back, he said he didn’t “want to lose her.” So on some level he still had her, or at least still had a chance. Like they were together, but apart, TBD. And speaking of not losing her, the fact that a big part of the reason Tony supported the Accords was about Pepper…!!! For a movie that she wasn’t even in, that’s some serious shipper fuel. It also provides an evenly balanced match to Steve as to why they took their respective positions. They each had both an ideological reason and a personal reason. For Steve, ideologically it was because he had developed a distrust of government organizations, and personally, it was for his loyalty to Bucky. For Tony, his culpability in the Sokovia indecent drove him to believe they needed legal oversight, and personally, he just wanted Pepper to trust him again. To be able to say to her, See? I’m under some outside control now, I can’t just do whatever I want, when I want, and cause something like that to happen ever again, you don’t have to worry about me. “Supervised” Iron Man-ing and Avenging, to “split the difference” between being a completely rogue agent, and giving it up altogether. And hey, it looks like that might’ve worked… 

On a slightly more facetious note, it almost works better for the MCU as a whole for Pepper to not have been around for Age of Ultron, because if she was, Age of Ultron wouldn’t have happened. Tony wouldn’t have gotten that far. She would’ve given him one short and sweet “Are you out of your damn mind?!” speech, and that woulda been it. Roll credits. It wouldn’t have even been a movie, it would’ve been a Marvel One-Shot on the home release of another movie. That just wouldn’t have gone down. No way in Hell.

Especially if you buy into this pattern that I’ve noticed. When Pepper’s not there, Tony can be much more easily swayed into some questionable shit, because can’t nobody keep Tony Stark in check like Pepper Potts can keep Tony Stark in check. She wasn’t around in Age of Ultron, look what happened. She wasn’t around in Civil War, look what happened. Come Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony’s this chill, protective, stern yet caring mentor/father figure, kind of making up for previously recruiting this hella green teenager into a battle he himself had nothing to do with, wants Peter to be better than him, lets Peter be for the most part, but will step in and handle or rescue him if need be, I’m sitting there in the theater just loving dad!Tony. He was wonderful, and not at all problematic. Come the end of the movie, he and Pepper were back together the whole time. Welp, that explains it I guess, lol. She really is his balance. It’s been established since the first Iron Man (2008!) that he cannot live without that woman, even before he flat-out told her in IM3. And I think that idea’s really been put to the test in his last few movies. So thank goodness he got her back (however the hell he did it) and is about to make this thing legal, because he is a hot mess without her, even more so than usual, and he knows it.

Yes, Anthony, yes you are. But Pepper loves you dearly anyway. 

[not my gif]

Lifeline

Summary: The remorse swirls up inside him again, threatening to drown him, but Sakura doesn’t leave his side. She murmurs softly in his ear, mostly nonsensical repetitions of “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 4 – Prompt: “Sasuke’s Regrets”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be trapped in a never-ending nightmare should you be found plagiarizing.

Warning: Spoilersfor pretty much everything up to Chapter 699. Trigger Warnings: Possible

triggering subject matter. In-depth description and discussion of on-going mental health

issues (panic attacks, sleep paralysis, mentions of PTSD)

Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.

Beta Reader: Sakura’s Unicorn

_____________________________________________________________________

There are nights when he doesn’t sleep.

Sometimes, it’s because he’s knee-deep in some spot of trouble or another, saving people in distress, or hunting down obscure leads that amount to little more than whispers. Mostly, though, it’s because his dreams are too dark, too real for him to surrender to sleep.

Before, he dealt with the situation simply: travel until he passed out, too exhausted to dream.

It’s not so easy this time around.

Sasuke turns on his side, staring through the shadows of their small cabin. Splinters of moonlight illuminate Sakura’s slumbering form.

No, that’s not right.

His wife’s slumbering form.

It’s so strange to think of her like that, and yet, so natural. It’s been days since the wedding, since they left the village; he still wonders sometimes if he dreamed it all. But here she is, curled on her side, back to him, sleeping peacefully.

Her long hair is braided down her back, the tail of it hanging across the uchiwa symbol on the back of her nightshirt. Sasuke reaches out to trace it with his fingers, and a soft smile forms on his lips.

It’s an unexpected feeling of pride to see her wear it.

He might have his reservations about Mebuki Haruno – and she might’ve made her feelings toward him crystal clear – but her attention to detail is meticulous. Every garment Sakura owns has been emblazoned with his family’s crest, and now, whenever he finds himself lagging behind her (a lot more often these days), he gets to see that symbol flashing at him from beneath pink locks.

To him, it’s a beacon of the future, even as it remains a constant reminder of the past.

As he continues to trace the lines of the fan-shaped figure, Sasuke’s mind flashes back to another time when he stared so intently at Sakura’s back.

He sees his hand glowing with blue light, hears the shrieking chirp of birds. He can feel the heat of his chakra becoming stronger as he shoves it toward the unsuspecting girl in front of him –

Sasuke sits up quickly, the movement jarring his thoughts back to the present. He stares numbly down at where his left arm used to be, still able to sense the heat there. The tingling sensation creeps up through that missing limb – these are the only times he truly feels that phantom limb pain, and the loss of control bothers him, makes him want to fix it right away, but there’s no way to do that. Even though the air is empty, he imagines his chakra vibrating with the ghostly crackle of a nascent Chidori.

Sasuke’s heart pounds erratically, pain radiating outward across his chest, like giant fingers of flame reaching and grasping across bone and muscle. His stomach pulls tight and he feels bile rising in his throat, brought on by the incessant, desperate need to get out.

With less grace than he’s capable of, he swings around until his feet are planted firmly on the ground, giving him at least a physical hold on the waking world. Scrubbing his remaining hand down his face – it comes away drenched in sweat – he tries to erase the memory from his mind.

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anonymous asked:

Hi there!! I'm having a hard time in school atm so I was wondering if I could get a scenario or a drabble about how the boyband would comfort an s/o who's crying because of bad grades and whatnot (if you've done this already then hmu with that link yo)

Oh friend, I know that feeling all too well :( I’m sorry I got this to you so late, but know that you’re in my thoughts and I have every confidence that you’ll kick ass in class <3 keep me posted! I hope you’re doing well!!!

Tagging: @wolfgoddess77 @vashiane @sailorprompto @sedge-butt @marianne-dash-wood @me-yasato @alecair @toranyx @goodmorningawfulbye @paopusunshine @noxhighwind @sailormars109 @bleucommelhiver @elloquench @ultimoogle @kidolegend @rhysspeaces

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Smirk Pt. 3 - Luke Hemmings

Pairing: Luke and Y/N

Word Count: 5.1k+

Requested: Yes!!

Warnings: PG-13 (Swearing?)

I REALLY don’t know how I feel about this so any feedback would be so appreciated. I also wouldn’t mind taking this and turning it into an actual fanfiction so let me know your thoughts on that. :)

Part One HERE // Part Two HERE

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RFA + Minor Trio: Video Games

So I got bored, and being the Mystic Messenger obsessed game addict that I am, my mind wandered to wondering what sorts of video games the RFA would play, like types or genres and some examples (aside from LOLOL in Yoosung’s case of course lol), which led to making this headcanon post. Of course, these are all just my personal headcanons, and I would love to hear what thoughts you guys have for this subject! Sharing headcanons is fun~!! Sorry this got kinda long tho lol I guess I got carried away ^^;;;

Note: If you’re on the mobile app and only see Yoosung’s section, copy and paste the post’s URL into your mobile web browser. That should fix it~


💚YOOSUNG💚

  • Well we all know that he’s addicted to LOLOL, and probably plays or has tried other MMOs. As perfect as those are for him, I’m looking at other types of games for this. Otherwise it’s too easy lol
  • Plays RPGs and adventure games the most
  • When he can make a custom character, his preferred classes are knight or warrior classes, but he’s also open to playing as mages
  • Definitely the kind of player that picks up every. Single. Side quest. Because he wants to help everyone
  • Need a certain number of rarely dropped items? No problem!
  • Want to deliver an item to someone who’s not even a two minute walk away? He’s on it!
  • Got a super difficult optional boss that you want dead that can–and will–display the Game Over screen multiple times, and you’re offering a class-specific item he can’t use as a reward? Sign him the fuck up!
  • Unless they want something he doesn’t agree with… -gives Skyrim’s Blades the side-eye-
  • No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t bring himself to play the “asshole/aggressive character” style
  • “Sure, this assassin was hired by that one traitor who wants us dead, my party is totally against letting him live since he might try to kill us again, and we have absolutely no reason to trust him aside from his seemingly honest answers which he could have just fabricated to save himself, so logic seems to point at killing him to be safe…………buuuuuuuuuut he could be a helpful party member and then no one has to die!”
  • Also, he loves games that encourage interaction with other players!
  • “People think that you don’t get any friends if you play games… but you get tons!” TRUTH!!!
  • So yeah, games with interaction are great!
  • Honestly MMORPGs are fucking perfect for him and and that’s why he’s addicted to LOLOL! lol seriously dude game with me plz
  • Really likes Pokemon for the sense of community with trades and battles and such
  • Totally attempted to make a competitive team at some point
  • Whenever new games are announced, he and Seven figure out who gets what version so they can trade version exclusives and such
  • Can never beat Seven in a battle tho… The one rival battle he can never win T^T
  • Also this guy is a Kirby fan fight me on this

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stardust-blake  asked:

Happy new year, again, Rosie!! I'd like a drabble. I feel like we don't get enough flustered Clarke on the show so can you write a drabble with flustered Clarke + Bellamy's freckles. It could be canon or modern AU. Thanks for doing this, and you're amazing! <3

Three weeks later, and I finally got there. Sorry for sucking. Anyway, this fic is very ridiculous, deviates slightly from the prompt, and is a lot longer than originally anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it anyway, Hana :)

In retrospect, Clarke probably should’ve realised what was going on.

She’s in her third year of med school, after all, and usually has at least a basic level of common sense in her.

As it is, apparently Bellamy Blake makes her a bit of an idiot. And Bellamy Blake half naked? Well, Clarke’s not sure anyone can truly blame her for her brain short-circuiting and subsequently shutting down at the sight.

“You’re staring,” Raven comments easily, as he pulls off his top, leaving him in nothing but his swimming shorts.

And okay, Clarke at least has enough brain power to recognise that yes, she is staring, and it’d probably be a good idea to, you know — stop. But honestly, she’s not entirely sure how everyone on this goddamn beach isn’t watching him. Because Bellamy taking his top off definitely happened in slow-motion. With his skin glistening and his muscles rippling and his hair remaining perfectly dishevelled. That can’t have just been Clarke. She didn’t just imagine that.

But a quick glance to her friends, all still focused on their own tasks, tells her she did just imagine it. Which is a level above how her brain traditionally deals with her stupid feelings. Usually, she just fantasises about kissing him, or confessing her love, or worst of all, simply snuggling into his side and falling asleep. But this is some weird movie set shit her brain is delving into.

Which is probably the first sign that Clarke ignores.

“Shut up,” she mutters to Raven, spinning on her feet so she’s no longer facing Bellamy. He has a lot of nerve, being as beautiful as he is.

“I’m just saying,” Raven muses, ignoring Clarke’s response as she pulls out her towel and lays it down on the sand. “It’s likely that you’ll die today. Like, you barely keep it together as it is, and now you have to spend all day with him half naked. So, you know, just let me know how nice you want your casket to be.”

“If you think I want to be anything but cremated, you don’t know me very well.”

Raven snorts as Clarke helps lower her down onto her towel. “As someone who works in the medical field, your genuine belief that people can accidentally be buried alive is a weird one.”

“It could happen,” Clarke says, kicking Raven lightly in the shoulder when she just cackles.

“What could happen?” She hears from behind her, and when Clarke turns around there’s Bellamy, smile wide and eyes dazzling and freckles standing out so clearly against his warm golden skin. It’s a lot to take in all at once.

“Clarke could die of dehydration from being so thirsty,” Raven supplies unhelpfully, cocking an amused eyebrow when Clarke shoots her a dirty look.

“What?” Bellamy asks, frowning in confusion.

“Ignore her,” Clarke says, thankful that internet lingo isn’t really a strong point of his. “She’s being an asshole.”

“No surprise there.”

“You love me, Blake.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bellamy mutters with a small quirk of his lips. And then he looks back at Clarke, smile widening into a bright grin, and her brain kind of short-circuits again. “Want me to do your back?”

And, yeah, that certainly doesn’t help. Clarke blinks once, unable to get anything out but, “What?”

“Your back,” he repeats slowly, amused. When she just stares at him, probably resembling a deer in headlights, he continues, cocking an eyebrow. “You burn pretty quickly, princess. You really should put on sunscreen.”

“Oh right,” Clarke breathes out, shaking her head. She feels very warm suddenly, and it’s messing with her head. When Bellamy just keeps watching her with that amused expression of his, she realises she hasn’t actually answered him, and quickly amends. “Yeah, um. Thanks. That’d be, um — good,” she finishes lamely.

Bellamy chuckles, sending her a funny look as she grabs her bottle of sunscreen and passes it to him. And then she’s tugging off her top and turning around, and Bellamy’s hands are on her, and it’s like the universe is trying to punish her for some past life atrocity. Because his hands are large and rough and perfect, rubbing deep into her skin, and it’s hard not to imagine this exact same feeling in a very different context.

She feels a flush rise quickly on her chest at the thought, can’t help but sway back into Bellamy’s touch a little, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, continuing with his task easily.

“Okay,” he announces a good minute later, running his hands down her back one last time. “I’m done. Do me?”

“What?” She asks, dazed, and when her brain catches up, “Oh, uh — yeah, of course,” she stutters out, feeling like a fourteen year old with her first crush again.

Of course, having her hands on Bellamy doesn’t help much, not with the way she feels the warmth of his skin and the tautness of his muscles, or the fact that she zones in on the freckles running down his back, all the way to the bottom of his scapulae before they pepper out.

It’s like the sun kissed each individual one onto his skin just to torture Clarke. She fucking loves his freckles.

And yes, she sees his freckles all the time, but for some reason they’re particularly mesmerising today, tugging on Clarke’s mind until it unravels a little. She feels herself rock backwards without really meaning to, stumbling in her stance, and has to brace herself using Bellamy’s shoulders.

Which is definitely the second sign, and once again, one she ignores.

It doesn’t get any better after that.

The water is lovely, of course, and the weather just as much, with the sun high and bright in the sky. And Clarke loves hanging out with her friends, enjoys swimming around with them and attempting to body surf, even finds herself joining in on the seaweed fight that breaks out when Miller cops some in the face curtesy of Jasper.

But she doesn’t feel completely right, skin hot and tight and mind muddled enough that she misses when people try to talk to her a few times. Her eyes keep getting caught on Bellamy’s form, from the curls stuck to his forehead to the golden brown of his chest, and when it gets bad enough that she feels slightly faint, she decides it’s time to get back onto solid ground.

“You okay?” Raven asks, when she joins her back on the beach, flopping down heavily on her towel. She still feels all hot and flustered, and apparently looks it too, if Raven’s concerned tone is anything to go by. “You don’t look good, babe. You need some water?”

And yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing that even that sign, spelt out right there in front of her, practically flashing to get her attention, isn’t enough for Clarke to realise something’s up.

Something other than the ridiculous explanation she’s come up with for feeling so out of it.

“I’m fine,” she mutters, beginning to fan her face with her hands. She just feels so dazed, and it’s absolutely absurd that seeing Bellamy like he is today is affecting her so much. It’s honestly normally not this bad. “I just — I don’t understand how he looks this good,” she explains, knowing Raven will catch on to her complaints quickly. “It’s like… it’s like he’s specifically trying to torture me.”

Raven laughs, sending Clarke a sly grin. “He’s probably just trying to look irresistible enough that you finally make a move.”

Clarke groans, letting her head drop back even as she shakes it in denial. “You’re delusional,” she sighs, eyes falling shut. They feel heavy, probably because they’ve had to look at something so beautiful for over an hour, which is totally a logical explanation.

“Yeah, I’m the delusional one,” Raven mutters lowly, and Clarke throws an arm out in an attempt to hit her, only to feel sand beneath her skin instead. “Okay, seriously, you’re acting even weirder than usual,” Raven says, voice etching on concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke responds, stressing her point by waving her arms out wildly. She can practically feel Raven’s disbelief in the silence that follows, and sighs loudly. “Okay,” she eventually continues, words slurring slightly. “This is what it is. He’s a beautiful, freckled man, and my body can no longer handle it, probably because it knows my love is unrequited and I’m going to die alone, and therefore wants to punish me.”

“Uh huh,” Raven responds after a very long beat, voice slightly strangled. Then, “Babe?”

“Hm?”

“You, um, might want to look up.”

“Why?” Clarke huffs, opening her eyes to throw Raven a glare for making her do something that requires effort, only to find Bellamy standing right in front of her, eyes wide and mouth parted as he watches her closely. She blinks, feels her face heat up even as her brain sort of decides to shut down. “Oh.”

“I just came to check up on you,” he says, voice inscrutable. His brows pull together and he runs a hand through his hair, and Clarke watches in mute horror as any possible explanation for her words escapes her. “Who were you…”

“What?” she asks, shaking her head quickly as though it could rid her of his question. “No one,” she says, and without much thought at all stumbles up to her feet, just needing to get away.

She makes it one step before the world goes fuzzy around the edges, and all at once a wave of nausea floods her.

“Woah, woah. Clarke,” she hears in Bellamy’s voice, as a pair of strong hands quickly circle her around the arms, keeping her upright even as she feels her whole body waver, losing every ounce of energy.

“Bell,” she breathes out, blinking up slowly to look at him, catching his worried expression and his big, brown eyes.

She sees him say something, his mouth moving as though he’s calling out her name, but his words are lost to the sound of blood rushing past her ears, and the next thing she knows, the galaxy across his face fades until it’s nothing but the dark night sky, and she’s out.

*

Clarke’s fainted once before in her life. It was when she was nine years old, and trying to beat her personal record of thirteen cartwheels in a row.

When she woke up it was to Wells’ worrying, and the first thing she asked him was if she beat her record. She had, getting a fourteenth cartwheel before she apparently stood up, stumbled, and fell back down again, and it was an exciting enough revelation that Clarke viewed the whole experience in a positive light.

This time, the first thing she says when she’s awake and semi-coherent is: “Your freckles.”

It comes out slurred and somehow accusatory, and Bellamy’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches her closely. Her head is in his lap, and his hands are gently stroking her face, and Clarke has enough brain activity to recognise that it feels really, really nice.

And also, that she accidentally confessed her love to Bellamy.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, sweeping her hair from her forehead. “I caught you before you fell, so there’s no way you have a concussion. Want to try that again?”

Clarke shakes her head, struggles to sit up and lets Bellamy help her when she can’t on her own. Her mind is still sluggish, and so she doesn’t stop herself from continuing to talk. Just, you know, to knock in that final nail that is her coffin. Or however it is you prepare an urn.

“Your freckles,” she says, frowning when Bellamy’s lips pull up into a smile. “They — they made me confused. And flustered. And I couldn’t — I couldn’t think.”

“Okay, I’m only a history teacher and I definitely know that that’s not how things work.” His smile widens when Clarke frowns, and he passes her a bottle of water. She takes it and downs it greedily, not having realised how thirsty she was until the first drop of water hit her lips. She feels worlds better for it, her head clearing of its cloudiness and her body feeling a lot stronger. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“What?” Clarke asks, confused again.

“The last time you ate,” Bellamy repeats, reaching behind her to grab something. Clarke looks over her shoulder to find Raven, somehow both looking concerned and amused, handing Bellamy a banana and a bag of jelly lollies. “Or had any water, for that matter.

“I don’t know,” Clarke mutters, feeling herself flush all at once because oh my fucking god, she is such a fucking idiot. “Last night, I guess.”

Bellamy shakes his head, peeling the banana before handing it over.

“Eat,” he tells her, tone leaving absolutely no room to argue. Not that Clarke would, now that she recognises that her feeling faint was not the result of Bellamy Blake’s freckles like she originally thought, but instead a combination of low blood sugar, mild dehydration and heat exhaustion. You know, the more logical explanation. Seriously, she’s in med school. This is beyond embarrassing.

She does eat, finishing the banana quickly before taking a few of the jelly lollies, getting some sugar into her system.

“So, let me get this straight,” Bellamy says after a good minute of just watching her eat. Clarke feels herself blush furiously, and she’s honestly wondering how much of an overreaction it would be to move to the other side of the world tomorrow. But she confessed her love to Bellamy, fainted in his arms, and then told him it was because of his freckles, all in about a three minute time span. The mountains of New Zealand sound pretty damn good right now. “You skip breakfast,” Bellamy begins to list off, pulling Clarke from her spiralling thoughts, “forget to drink any water, go to the beach on a ninety five degree day, and when you feel flustered you think it’s because of me.”

He sounds amused, but something more too. Hopeful, maybe, and it sends a pang of warmth through Clarke’s chest. A good pang, not an I’m-going-to-faint-again pang.

“Have you seen you?” She asks, tentative, and when Bellamy ducks his head in a shy grin she feels herself smile. “It made a lot more sense in my mind.”

Bellamy’s laugh comes out surprised and delighted, and when he looks back up his eyes are shining bright and his smile is as happy as Clarke ever remembers seeing. Again, it’s a lot to take in, but the flutter beneath her skin is a distinctly good kind.

“So if I kiss you right now, because your love in not at all unrequited, is there any chance you’ll faint again?”

“No,” Clarke responds quickly, shaking her head. “I’m in med school; I know these things.”

He’s grinning even as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t trust you at all,” he says, but Clarke’s already reaching out to pull him down, guiding his mouth to hers.

His lips are warm and soft, and she sighs against them, slanting her mouth against his to better the angle. She deepens the kiss quickly, lets her tongue trace the seam of his lips until it slides against his, and then Bellamy’s pulling her onto his lap and Clarke’s hands are tangling into his hair, and they’re kissing like they don’t want to be doing anything else in the entire world.

She only pulls away when she starts feeling faint again, but it’s the good kind of breathless this time. The one that comes with being thoroughly kissed.

Plus, Bellamy basically just told her he loved her too, and that thought is enough to send her mind spinning a little.

She probably should eat some more, before they continue making out.

“I kind of died seeing you in this bikini,” Bellamy tells her as he rests his forehead against hers.

Clarke laughs softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, hands tracing up her sides to reach the band of her bathers top. “But unlike some people, I recognise the importance of eating and staying hydrated, so you probably couldn’t tell.”

Clarke groans, dropping her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder as his body shakes with laughter. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Yeah, absolutely not.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” she mutters, moving off of his lap to sit beside him instead. As much as she wishes she could, she can’t exactly keep making out with him on a public beach, in front of strangers. In front of their friends.

Remembering that little fact, Clarke turns around to find Raven staring back at her, thankfully alone, but looking altogether incredibly unimpressed.

“I can’t believe you literally had to faint into his arms to work out your shit,” she says, and Clarke shrugs even as Bellamy snorts out a laugh at the comment.

Tucking herself into his side and lacing their fingers together, it’s had to find a part of her that cares.

“Whatever works.” 

Excursion to the Practice Room

Jimin one-shot

Genre: Fluff, smut kinda

im sorry not sorry



You were abruptly woken up, facing down in your bed, struggling to breathe. After gaining awareness of your surroundings you noticed that you had a flailing boyfriend on top of you. Jimin was furiously rolling around, and jumping on the bed, and on top of you.

Groaning, you reached up and pulled him down into the covers with you, wanting to sleep a little longer. But Jimin was still squirming around, trying to wake you up. “Why are you so persistent today Jiminnie?”

He rolled over and sat on top of you, finally sitting still. “Well, I have a free day today, and I’m not going to spend it doing something boring.” You were about to open your mouth in protest that staying in bed could be fun, but he stopped you before a single word could leave your mouth. “Don’t even start with that. I already know what I want to do, but you have to get up. Hell you can just throw on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, we aren’t doing anything too crazy.”

“Okay, but it’s kinda hard to move when you’re straddling me so…” As soon as you said that he tumbled off of you, almost falling off the bed in the process. “I swear one of these days you’re gonna break something.”

Jimin just rolled his eyes at you and started walking to the door. “I got you coffee, so hurry up and we can get going.”

____

“So your logic is that, since it’s your day off, you’re going to go where you work anyways?” You spoke sarcastically as you made your way to Jimin’s dance studio. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here. He often calls you to come and watch him practice after all the other members left. Sometimes you get a little, “Distracted”, to say the least.

“Well it’s more fun when I have the place to myself, and we can be touchy without Jungkook’s virgin eyes being tainted,” he said, giggling after. His laugh was so cute, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Once you were both in the practice room, you sat on the floor while Jimin plugged in his phone to the aux cord. The beat to some song you can’t remember the name of started up. Putting his phone down and turned towards you. He dramatically bit his lip, and made a overly greasy face as he did a little dance over to you.

“Stand up, and have fun with me babe,” tugging at your hand, he tried to pull you up. Once you were up, Jimin as swinging himself around, being goofy rather than seriously dance. You did the wave with your arms, ending with a snap and a point in his direction. His eye smile was showing as he was laughing at your antics.

As the song was nearing to the end, and hopped over to his phone. You had a plan. Scrolling through the list of songs, you managed to find it. Hitting the song, you looked over at Jimin, who had a “are you kidding me” expression on as his solo song “Lie” start to play.

“Come on, do the dance for me baby!” He just rolled his eyes as he half-assed the choreography. Though maybe half way through the song, his silly expression started to wear off and was being replaced by a more mischievous one. Biting his lip, he made his way over to you. Pulling you close to him, he brought his lips up to yours, but barely letting them brush past, he started to walk away from you, smirking. You caught him though, and pinned him between you and the wall, kissing him vigorously.

Long after the music had stopped playing, things had only progressed. Jimin’s hands has traveled below your shirt and were gripping your waist as you were trailing slowly down his neck. You could tell he was getting worked up from the small pants coming from him. Reaching a soft spot on his neck, he let out a small moan, but that’s when you heard a voice from across the room.

“Hey guys I left my sweatshir- Holy shit.” it’s was Jungkook. “Oh, am I, uh, interrupting something? Oh my gahd, my bad.” Someone help this boy.

Originally posted by nnochu

The favorite - part 02

The favorite - final part | Jack Maynard | imagine

Word count: 2538

A/N: The name Kirstie is being used

More imagines here Requests are open!

First part here

After almost one hour and a half, you and Jack still were on the damn elevator. You didn’t know how your karma was so bad, but you guessed you would be declared a saint after spending so much time on that box. You were sleepy, your back started to hurt and the company wasn’t that good, even though Jack didn’t speak anything after such a long time. His presence annoyed you, you could hear him breathing and that was enough to drive you nuts. Oh, and only for your happiness, your phone battery was almost in the end, so you were running out of time to get out of there.

“Hello?” a male voice called and you jumped, standing up with a fresh relief. “Is anyone there?”

You opened your mouth to scream back at the guy, yes! You! You needed help! You needed someone to rescue you so you could get Conor and live that place forever (even if Conor probably should’ve took the stairs and escaped his little situation by himself). Yes, you were there and you were ready to get out of that stupid elevator, but, of course, Jack Maynard wasn’t in agreement with you, so his hand flew to your mouth, shutting you up.

“Don’t!” He commanded whispering.

You took his hands of you: “Are you fucking crazy? We need to get out of here!”

He seemed to be really close to lost his head with you, as if you were the one who were losing your chances to getting help.

“What if he’s from police?”

You stopped a little, but then you realized it wouldn’t make any difference.

“If that’s true, he will find us anyway!”

Jack rolled his eyes “Okay, the police wasn’t a good example, but what if he’s one of the employees of the building? Not only we’ll get arrested but we’ll get Kirstie into trouble.”

“Oh, gods!” you rolled your eyes this time. “You are not getting laid tonight, Jack! Who cares about the girl? She shouldn’t let us in anyway!”

“Y/N! Stop being so… “ he struggled a little to find the exact word”Egocentric!”

“Egocentric? I’m not egocentric! I just want to…”

“Hellooo?” the voice sounded again and Jack shut you up another time. “I can hear people on the elevator! Hello?”

Jack’s right hand was capping your mouth, keeping you shush. His left hand was holding your waist, because you were trying to leave. You definitely weren’t happy, but being so close of him after your little arguing, with him holding you so tight, you were out of breath. For God’s sake, what the hell he was doing?

“Keep quiet.” Jack asked.

You didn’t answer him, leaving pretty clear you didn’t like the situation, so he stood there, holding you until he was sure the man went off. He was looking at the metal doors as if it would open and the entire MPS would be there and, when the elevator didn’t move a single inch, he looked at you cautiously.

He didn’t want to set you loose because he was afraid of you starting to scream until the man turn around and check the elevator, however once Jack looked into your eyes, the whatever his thoughts was, his mind went clear. Actually, his mind was all a blur, all he could see was you and all he could think was you.

You weren’t in a better situation either. In a daily basis was difficult to remember yourself you hated Jack Maynard with all of you, now it was impossible. The only parts alive of you were the ones he was touching, the rest was just a mirage, you knew it was there but you couldn’t feel it. You never knew how to describe his eyes and, in that moment, the only think you could thought was that they were beautiful.

Your cellphone made a noise, the battery ended. You jumped away from Jack and he coughed, embarrassed.

“I guess the guy is gone.” Jack said, trying to feel less uncomfortable.

“Yeah…” you ran your fingers through your hair, sitting down again and taking your phone, checking it like there was a doubt of what happened with it. “The battery went off.” You explained, raising the eletronic just like you would do if Jack asked you what was going on.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Jack grumbled, sitting in the extreme opposite from where you were.

“Yes, it is.” you said.

Jack didn’t know what to do, so he searched his phone in his pocket and took it, pretending he had something to do with that piece of useless material, he couldn’t call anyone, he couldn’t receive any messages and had no app games in it because the day before he needed space to film a video to his channel.

“Don’t use your phone.” you gently said, not noticing the strange tone in your own voice. “We might need that later.”

Jack nodded his head and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Okay.” he agreed without even questioning.

At that point, no one could think in a way to avoid the silence, so there was no noise inside the elevator. You and Jack tried to not look at each other, although it was inevitable. Then, when it happened, you only raised an eyebrow to him and he laughed at you, making you follow his act.

“What?” you asked.

“Who would thought we would be here, huh Y/N?”

“I didn’t” you admitted.

“But you dreamed of this, I’m sure.” he joked and you rolled your eyes, even if you tried, you couldn’t get angry at that moment.

“I guess it was one of items of your to do’s list, Jack.” you hit back.

He raised his shoulders: “Maybe.”

“Oh, gods!” you laughed. “You can’t even try to say no, can you?”

“I am a pretty open person, Y/N.” he told. “There’s no reason to try deny this.”

You nodded your head negatively, not believing that these were his words. He waited you to calm down and the silence to be back again before questioning the thing he wanted the most, because he genuinely didn’t know that answer.

“Why do you hate me this much, Y/N?”

You were surprised. Although you said that Conor should know this answer, you didn’t expected the same from Jack. As a matter of fact, Jack was the only one you thought that would never know the reasons of treating him that way. Well, the winds have changed and there you were, stuck in an elevator with Jack Maynard.

You sighed.

“Fine.” you gave a little smile. “Do you really want to know?”

“Hm… Yeah?” Jack really thought it was a right of him and you knew it was, but you wanted him to be sure.

“Okay.” you took a deep breath. “Your brother asked me the same thing earlier today and I didn’t answer him. I would appreciate if you keep this just to yourself.”

Jack wanted to ask you why he would do such a thing, but he let it go because it was the first time in years you were nice to him (in his point of view, when you two met, he was gentle, so that counted as being nicer than you even if both of you were horrible to each other through the rest of the time). Still, he couldn’t let asking you this:

“Why you don’t want Conor to know?”

You chewed your bottom lip:

“I’m afraid he will think I’m foolish and stand by your side. Keeping hate is not something I’m proud of.”

Jack, after your sentence, couldn’t say no, so he promised do that.

“Right, I can keep it, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” you smiled before being nervous again. “The reason why I hate you is because is something no one else do.”

“What?” Jack was really confused.

“I mean, everybody thinks you are so cool and stuff like that… You are the favorite Maynard of literally every single person I know. So I always kept clear you weren’t my favorite, Conor was and always will be.”

“What the hell?” Jack exclaimed, a part of him was pissed off and the other one was just confused. “What kind of sick logic is this?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to seem not affected by his rebuke although you already knew it was stupid.

“Look, let me clear the things out, okay?” Jack stared at you, waiting for it. “We studied in the same school and you were so damn popular! And even now, you act like it’s all good and it’s normal, but it’s happening again with this whole Youtube thing.”

“Where were you in 2012?” Jack asked. “Living under a fucking rock?”

“Yeah, I know, 2012 was a big year for Con and everything, but is not the same!”

Jack wanted to scream at you.

“He literally has four times more subscribers than I do.” Jack told. “How that can be a sign of his popularity being bigger than mine?”

You wanted to scream at Jack too, it was bigger than just a few numbers.

“It’s a Twitter, a Tumblr thing. You can see you have, like, more fans than him and stuff like that.”

“Oh my God, you’re fucking insane.” Jack said. “You don’t know a thing, Y/N. Seriously, you don’t know nothing.” Jack got up, being really angry at you in that moment. “Actually, me and Conor think that the favorite Maynard is Anna. She’s the girl and the youngest child, she has everything she asks for mum and dad.” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t make any difference. ”Also, you don’t have an idea of how hard it is being the brother who can’t sing and didn’t go to a tour or stuff like that at school. You think I was popular? Think again, Y/N. Half of those ‘friends of mine’ was with me because I am Conor’s brother. Actually, I have the million of subscribers that I have thanks to my friends and family. You think I don’t know that? That I couldn’t get where I am without them? Thank you, I appreciate your comment. I don’t need it, though… I have haters saying I’m shit everyday.”

You felt really bad now. You never thought that Jack’s perspective of things would be like that. What you’ve done? Why were you so mean to him? You started to being close to Conor after both of you graduated, after the whole “New Justin Bieber!” thing, after he moved out from Youtube and he already shared his feelings about all this with you. He weren’t unhappy, he didn’t need your love or your pity. You knew that and, yet, you weren’t kind with Jack. Jack was right: What the hell?

“I’m sorry” you whispered, hugging your own legs and trying not to cry. You never felt more foolish, more stupid than that. Were you really that small? Gods, what a shame!

Jack saw you like that and a little piece of him felt good, because he was so damn angry, on the other hand, he knew you weren’t that bad. You did what you did with good, twisted intentions. You didn’t speak to him with the nicest tone, so what? He said pretty bad things to you too, things he never thought he would say to a girl. And, after all, both of you enjoyed that strange relationship, the fights about absolutely nothing and the little provocations every minute you were together.

“Oh, fuck it.” he conclude, crouching next to you. “That’s fine, Y/N.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack.” you apologized. “There’s no excuse for what I done.”

He gave a little smile, seeing your regret and realizing that you might be good friends for now on.

“That’s fine, baby.” he caressed your arm and, when you didn’t answer him, he teased you. “What? Are you not complaining about me calling you baby?” you nodded your head, you would never complain about anything about Jack again. “Oh, baby, I will enjoy that.”

You laughed.

“Fuck off, Jack.” Or maybe you could complain about this or that.

“That’s better.” He said, finally sitting next to you.

“I guess it is.” You agreed.

“If it makes the things a little nicer, I really enjoyed all our fights.”

You supported your head in his shoulder, feeling comfortable enough to do that.

“They were funny, weren’t they?” You asked, smiling as you remembered some of the things you two yelled at each other.

“Yes, they were.” he sighed, putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Maybe we should argue sometimes just for fun.”

“Yeah, I would like that.”

A little laugh came out of your mouths, that was a pretty intense night with the most impossible twists you guys could think of. And now it was all chilled, you two couldn’t be happier with the whole thing. His arm around you and your head on his shoulder almost seemed it was meant to be like this during all these years.

You looked up at him, just to find out Jack was already looking to you. You gave up for that moment and let yourself appreciate the beauty of Jack Maynard properly. His hair was a mess, he was kind of sleepy and you never thought someone could be that handsome. He checked you out a few times before that and, in that moment, you were a mess too: your makeup was blurred, your dress was misaligned and your hair was blowzy, still, Jack thought he would never meet someone as beautiful as you.

He started leaning towards you and you couldn’t help yourself, also leaning to kiss him. Your stomach was on the floor and you felt like this was your first kiss. Well, you wished it was, you could sense it would be better than all the other kisses you had in your entire life.

Suddenly, as unexpected as the first time, the elevator started shaking. Making you two move away from each other. You rolled your eyes. Really?

“Oh, for God’s sake.”  Jack complained.

You laughed and raised your shoulders, moving to be face to face with him. He copied you, understanding your movements.

Faster this time, you leaned to each other, don’t minding the rescue, you could work this out another hour. For now, all you and Jack wanted was to kiss each other and that’s what happened. With no regrets, your lips pressed his and the kiss was even better than your expectations.

“What the hell?” was what Conor said after you heard the elevator’s door opening.

You and Jack broke the kiss and laughed. He stood up and offered you his hand so you could get up too.

“Hi, Con.” you greeted, holding Jack’s hand as he was pulling you out the metal box.

“Hey, bro.” he said to a confused Conor.

You thanked the man who got you two out of the elevator, flashing your eye for the excessive clarity, it was dawning.

“Who’s your favorite Maynard now?” Jack whispered in your ear while you were walking out the enormous building.

Seemed that Jack Maynard was getting laid after all. Oh, how he annoyed you.

c-qcat  asked:

McCree flirting with a reader who's stubbornly denying the fact that they MAY have feelings for the cowboy. Like, not tsundere levels of denial but they're trying to play it cool because for some reason they know that they shouldn't get too deeply involved, maybe they're a mercenary working for Overwatch and know that before long they're gonna have to leave and to get attached means something scary that they haven't considered: full-on change. STILL CAN'T HELP THE FACT THEY'RE HEAD OVER HEELS.

Ohhh BOOOOOOOY. NO ONE SHOULD CATCH THE FEELS FOR THAT DASTARDLY COWBOY JESSE MCCREE. I heard that sucker is aN OUTLAW AND SHIT.

Originally posted by dafunk

Longass imagine under the cut because guess who ELSE CAUGHT THE FUCKIN FEELS. This is a mess, but whatever. Omfggg

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Dadzawa headcanons please!!!! I mean literal dad Aizawa, with a little girl please!

So beyond pleased to get a request for him on his birthday! Thank you, anon!

HEADCANONS

AIZAWA SHOUTA / ERASERHEAD

  • She’s a daddy’s girl, through and through. Sleep is her favourite thing and often she’ll sneak into Aizawa’s room to sleep with him. He lets her.
  • Saturday’s are often spent building blanket forts and sleeping in them all day.
  • Would get her a kitten for her first birthday so that it’d grow up with her.
  • Would decorate her bedroom cat themed. He likes cats and babies like cats too, right?
  • Is rubbish at doing her hair for her before school so she spends her primary school years with hair just like his; wild and messy.
  • Takes her trick or treating every year. He doesn’t put much effort in, he’s always a basic cat. But, he does help her design a different costume for every Halloween.
  • Parent’s evening is a disaster waiting to happen. He doesn’t handle someone telling him whether his child is good or not very well. His little monster is great. End of.
  • But will also scold his daughter if she’s not performing well at school. He expects much much better from her.
  • Will teach her as much as he can if she’s willing to learn from him. He won’t waste his time. He would be disappointed if she doesn’t want to.
  • Can’t handle her growing up, boyfriends are the worst thing to ever happen to him. Why did his little girl have to start liking them?!
  • Will go out of his way to intimidate any male friends in case they’re potential future boyfriends.  He knows how young boys think.
  • These intimidations usually consist of him being really blunt about how he feels about them. Or just staring at them without blinking for as long as he could.
  • Also, would actively scare the shit out of any current boyfriends.
  • Would be completely thrown if his daughter was into girls. How do girls think? He doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know.
  • Googles parenting tips a lot, he’d rather die than ask someone personally.
  • First major argument that wasn’t a tantrum happens during her early teens after a parent’s evening. He has high expectations of his daughter and wants her to do well.
  • Arguments usually end up in his daughter coming to apologise and crying at him. It usually concludes with him apologising too, even though he knows he’s apologising for nothing.
  • Would be a stern father, sometimes a bit ruthless. He’s not going to let his child make him too soft. And certainly not in public either.
  • Struggles shopping for her birthdays and Christmas as she gets older. His logic brain wants to pick out things she needs but knows it’ll only end in disaster.
  • He now takes her shopping with him and buys something she wants and something she needs.
  • The talk about ‘becoming a woman’ didn’t happen until after her first period. It was a stressful morning for both of them.
  • The sex talk too was delayed and followed an uncomfortable film scene they watched together. Neither of them had expected it when they chose the film.
  • Would try to raise her to be logical in life. It half backfired and she now always calls him Spock to wind him up. 
  • But seriously, he expects her to be smart enough to think through things and not be irrational.
  • They eat more take out and ready meals than home cooked ones. Aizawa is just either too busy or too tired. Or they’ll eat out before heading home.
  • Sometimes worries he’s better at being a teacher than being a father. And he knows people think he’s a hardarse as a teacher so it does play on his mind from time to time.


More where that came from, anon! If you want some more you know what to do ~