she's just so happy and positive

I’m quite positive he’s not forgotten her or that she was there for him. I’m also pretty sure he and Danielle broke up somewhere between his birthday and New Years and he and Eleanor got back somewhere after that?? I really don’t know or care honestly. Things ended amicably between them as she still follows him and his family/friends and he’s happy and she’s happy so I’m happy. I think he just said Eleanor because it’s simpler than talking about that aspect of his life and bringing Danielle back into the limelight for hate or comment from fans/media. I liked Danielle a lot too. I do feel sad about them at times but they both seem so happy it’s hard to be upset about a relationship that I have no say so in. :)

I'm On My Knee

Hi babes! This is a marshmallow-soft story about the reader and Tom having a special inside joke. That inside joke being Tom dramatically falling down onto one knee to tease her after she accidentally tells him that it’s always been how she wants to get proposed to. The inside joke makes the both of them think a lot about their future and cuteness ensues! I hope that you like it!

Side note: The film was everything I wanted it to be and more? It owns my entire heart? The cast did so well and I’m so happy for all of them and my heart is just overflowing with love and I’m going to see the film again tomorrow!

I’m On My Knee

“He makes me want to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.” She murmured to her boyfriend, utterly and completely inebriated. “I want to learn how to cook so he can always come home to a hot meal. He makes me want to learn more so that I’ll always have new things to talk to him about, and he makes me want to take care of myself so that I can look good for him. I wanna read every book on the planet earth and watch every film, just so I have stories to tell him before we go to sleep. But, mostly, he makes me wanna wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.”

    Tom smiled, securing a strong arm around her waist before she had the opportunity to slip from the barstool she was trying to twirl on. Holding her still, he questioned, “anything else you want, darling?”

    Lurching forward, she twined her arms around his neck and moved to perch on his knee. She shoved her face into Tom’s neck and breathed in deeply, dragging her hands across the expanse of her boyfriend’s chest. He smelled of french cologne, the fabric of his shirt felt soft beneath her cheek, and she was so close to him that she could count the beats of his heart. “I love you.”

    Supporting her frame, Tom kissed the top of her head, “I love you more.” She sighed into his chest and Tom helped her to her feet, making sure that he still had her locked in his arms. “Let’s get you home now, drunky.”

“I want him on his knee like in the old films,” she added before she allowed Tom to guide her to their parked car.

    Truly, Tom felt the same way about her, but there was no way that he wouldn’t tease her about her intoxicated confession every chance he got. He’d been dreaming about how beautiful she’d look walking down the aisle to meet him since their third date and it comforted him that she seemed to feel the same way.

    She knew that she had majorly screwed up the next morning when Tom dropped down onto one knee, offering her a bottle of advil and a glass of water to soothe the pounding in her head that refused to be ignored.

    “On my knee, baby, just how you wanted!” Tom smiled, his curls flopping down in his eyes in the most endearing of ways. She hated that he looked so cute while he was so successfully embarrassing her.

    Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face, “Tom, stop! I told you that I was just drunk. Let it go!” She pleaded, blush spreading as far as the tips of her ears.

    Her boyfriend feigned hurt feelings, “well, if you were truly joking, guess I’m out of here. Gotta go get me a girl who’s in it for the long haul.” Tom joked as he moved to walk out the door.

    “Tom,” she whined before rushing forward to keep him in place with a hug. “Stop being so dumb and help me make pancakes. You flip them better than I do.”

    Smiling down at her, Tom took of her hands within his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “One day, I’ll be way more than just your boyfriend who flips pancakes better than you do. One day, I’ll be your husband who flips pancakes better than you do.” Tom laughed, picking her up to spin her around the kitchen.

    She was happy that Tom was focused on not dropping her or running into anything because she was even pinker than she’d thought previously possible and she was positive that the smile on her face was so huge that her face would crack into halves. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the greatest job, it didn’t matter that she was absolute shit at math, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything that mattered to her more than what Tom had just said. He was planning on a future with her and she was so elated that she spent the entire rest of her week floating from place to place on a bed made of cotton candy clouds.

    The next time Tom dropped to one knee for her, it was in the flower shop while she was sifting through bins of tulip bouquets for their friend’s dinner party. “Because I love you,” Tom said, holding out a bundle of daisies.

    Rolling her eyes, she took the flowers and bent forward to kiss Tom tenderly on the mouth. “Because I love you,” she repeated back to him before taking both bouquets to the register while Tom struggled to free his wallet before she could pay for her daisies.

    The time after that, Tom fell to one knee when she had come home with smudged mascara and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. Hurrying off the couch, he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulling her to perch softly onto his popped knee. “What’s the matter darling?”

    Shrugging her shoulders, her lower lip trembled and she merely hid her face in Tom’s neck.  Stroking her hair and mumbling the words to ‘Moon River’ into her ears, Tom waited for her to tell him what was upsetting her. He did his best to search his mind for anything he could’ve done, anything her friend’s could’ve done, anything at home that could have upset her and came back with nothing. Tom briefly had a fleeting feeling that he was failing as her husband until it clicked in his brain that he hadn’t ever gotten down on one knee before her to present her with an actual ring.

    That night, while she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her face hidden so close to his neck that Tom could feel her lips press into his skin, he looked up some photos of rings. Each time Tom found a particularly nice ring, he’d zoom in and envision it on her lovely hands. Looking down at her hand that was loosely curled around his waist, he murmured to her sleeping form, “nobody, not even the rain,has such small hands.” His girl had been on an E.E. Cummings kick and clearly the poetry she read aloud to him had rubbed off on Tom.

    Placing his phone back into it’s charging station on their nightable, Tom laid down and  made sure to lace his fingers through her own before he shut eyes to sleep, agreeing with E. E. Cummings  that nobody had such small hands. Such small hands that a glittering ring would only compliment.

    The next weekend, as she and Tom strolled through the supermarket to grab some fresh vegetables and fruit, and maybe a loaf of bread to go along with dinner, Tom spotted the baked goods aisle. Getting completely sidetracked, Tom stood staring at the pastries while she carried on in search of the produce section. Glancing at her retreating figure and then back at the deserts, Tom grabbed an armful of cookies, cinnamon rolls and cupcakes before hurrying after her.

    Her eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend nearly skipping towards her, arms overflowing with pastries. “Tom,” she started, cocking her hip and raising her brows, “that is ridiculous. Pick one thing, we already have too many snacks as it is!”

    “No, no, darling, you don’t get it. We’d leave the cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and we could eat the cookies as a snack, and then the cupcakes could be after dinner.” Tom tried to ration.

    “Tom, I’ll eat them all and then get bigger and you know I’m trying to look good this summer!” She whined, shaking her head and silently pleading for Tom to at least put one of the items he was holding back.

    Shuffling the food around in his arms, Tom attempted to clutch all the food with only one hand. Gently moving her hair away from her eyes, Tom kissed her temple. “Darling, you know that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with how you look, and nothing would be wrong with how you look even if you decided to inhale the entire pastry department on your own. I love the way you think, how kind you are to others, and you’re one of the smartest and least arrogant people that I know! I love you for your heart, and your brain. I thank the universe every night for your lungs and your kidneys, because they make you. You’re sweet-ass body just happens a perk of loving you.”

    Tom kissed her one last time before dropping down onto one knee before her, “c’mon angel, please?” He asked one last time.

    Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s cheesiness, she placed the cupcakes and the cinnamon rolls in her basket before leading Tom over to the fruit and asking him to pick out the crunchiest apples for their salad.

    When Tom fell to one knee again, it was after she had gone shopping with her friends and was currently modeling her new purchases at his request. She had exited the bathroom in which she was changing in, wearing an extremely short, white dress that left very little, if anything to Tom’s imagination. The dress was littered with small, red roses and had straps that were tied into a bow. As she twirled for him, Tom could see that the straps were the only thing holding her new dress together and by the time that she’d stopped her spinning, Tom was on one knee.

    “Should I take this off myself or do you wanna get up off the floor and help me?” She giggled, toying with the bow sitting atop her shoulder blade.

    As Tom carefully untied her dress and watched it fall to the ground, he muttered, “pretty ring would go nice with the roses.”

    She could barely hear what Tom had said, let alone comprehend it, as he began to pepper her exposed body with warm kisses. Stuttering out an barely audible, “uh-huh,” as Tom mouthed over the sensitive spot she had just beneath her ear.

    As time went on, “I’m on my knee,” became a phrase that she would hear from Tom almost as frequently as he said “I love you.” He’d drop to his knee in public, private, essentially everywhere they went. She was nearly convinced that Tom on his knee wouldn’t ever mean anything other than their inside joke, but little did she know how Tom feeling.

    Each time he dropped down onto one knee before her, it always made him long to obtain a ring to present her with. Considering that he was on his knee for her essentially everyday now, so much so that even the press was completely desensitized to photos of Tom on his knee before his girl, he was legitimately out and about looking for rings.

    He’d recruited his mother to assist with the search, begged Harrison, Jacob, his brothers, his father, and even her mother to help him with the search, but none of them could find a ring that Tom felt was worthy of her hands. Each time someone would send him a photo of a ring that left Tom dissatisfied, which was often, he’d simply send back the verse from ‘Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond,’ regarding the smallest of hands. At this point, nobody was sure what he meant. Once Harrison had tried to clarify what exactly the rain having tiny hands had to do with the ring search, but he came back describing a look of genuine craziness in his best mate’s eyes and decided to drop it.

    It was only after Tom had wandering into an antique shop with his mother that he found something perfect for her. The wedding ring was vintage and even came with an engagement ring, and after Tom had spent countless hours on the weekend thrifting and wandering in an out of hidden gem shops with his girl, he knew that she’d love it.

    Tom could only hide the ring for about a week. He was utter and complete shit at hiding things, especially from her, and the ring felt as if it was burning a hole through his pocket. He couldn’t wait to let the whole world know that she was going to his forever and he’d be hers for just as long. Tom just needed to create the perfect moment.

    Luckily for him, the perfect moment came the very next morning. Tom trailed behind her, kissing the back of her neck softly as she laughed and threaded her fingers up through his curls. They were deep within the poetry section of the most massive library Tom had ever seen and when she reached up to grab a novel, Tom felt as if the wind got knocked out of him. In her hands sat a copy of E. E. Cummings collected poems and while she sifted through the pages, Tom prayed inwardly to the universe for her to read the poem that he knew was destined to be hers.

    Not allowing her time to chose a poem, Tom dropped down to one knee while her back was still turned on him. Digging the ring out from the confines of his pocket, he could only get the last few lines of the poem out. “I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice in your eyes is deeper than all roses.”

    As Tom neared the end of the poem, she turned and opened her mouth to say the last verse with him. “Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.” She smiled, completely prepared to meet Tom’s eyes as she finally faced him.

    At first, the only thing her mind could register was that her boyfriend was on his knee, as always. It took her a second to take in the ring that glittered off of the library’s bright ceiling chandelier. Pressing a hand over her lips, she struggled to breath, her small hands gripping the open poetry book in her hands. “Do you mean it, Tom?” She questioned, her eyes flicking down to the ring he was presenting her with.

    His eyes were glassy in the light, and Tom smiled, “course I do, darling. I’m on my knee after all.”


Genndy is a hetero married man who made HIS characters (that you’re not entitled to deciding what happens to them) who are grown-ass adults that can make their own decisions become romantically involved and half of the fandom is just crying about how The Straights™ get everything they want and/or that Ashi is ruined…

…even tho Genndy planned this for a long time and even talked before bout how he wanted his main character to have a girl to travel with cos it’s something he dreamed about as a young boy and isn’t that was a lot of people do, who have OCs? they project themselves on them? was he not allowed to do that with his own OCs?

and like damn, Genndy’s probably just happy to let his most iconic character have a passionate and wholesome moment after nearly dying for the billionth time, but no it’s somehow an agenda of being homo/acephobic or something about how Ashi is only there as a trophy for hetero romance despite having an entire character arc built up and learning to trust someone after having been brainwashed her entire life - like who better for her to fall in love with but a man so positive and full of goodness, the one she was told was nothing but evil and must destroy???? on her journey to find Jack and learning more about the people he helped, how could she not become infatuated learning not only that everything she knew about him was completely wrong, but that he’s an actual legit nice person to admire the strength and bravery of? what’s rushed or forced about that?

if Ashi was a man yall just wouldn’t say a damn thing about her agency or how quickly they got together, and I think it speaks bigger volumes about you as a person if you’re reducing her to merely a romantic device trope only and ignoring how amazing she is and has been as a character who doesn’t need to be rescued like a damsel or that she needs a Dad to teach her like she needs to be infantilized lol

if you stop seeing her as an incredibly great woman just cos she fell for an incredibly great man that’s all on you and your issues lol

and yeah you can criticize and hate the ship all you want, but so much of your reasoning and logic is flawed and I’m allowed to criticize it too

Can you say salty? Sexualized where? Touka, an adult, decided to have sex with the man she loved, where is the problem? She wasnt the only one that was naked and exposed. We got naked Kaneki too, it wasnt just sexy naked Touka for fans and Kaneki to ogle. Why isnt anyone saying shit about Kaneki being “sexualized”? is that not a double standard? Are we saying Kaneki, as a man, cant be sexaulized?  I mean dude was pretty naked as I recall. If their problem is Touka being sexualized why dont they feel the same for Kaneki? He was equally naked, we even got a close up of his ass.

Also 99.9% of the time we have seen Touka on screen she’s been fully clothed. We’ve never seen her in some super sexy get up, which wouldn’t even be a problem as long as its in character. So I fail to see where she’s been the victim of being sexualized for fan service.

To the other people bitching about Touka being depicted as :one of those women" you can shut your misogynistic mouths. We know damn well what “that kind of woman” means. Again why are we going after only Touka? Is she having sex by herself? No, Kaneki is a fully willing participant too. Yet I dont see people implying he’s “that kind of person”. 

Is the problem that she initiated? Are people saying that women who initiate sex are “sluty”? What are we just supposed to wait for a guy to ask us marry them and then wait for them to make the move? What kind of stupid logic is that? 

Then we have people implying that Kaneki is the victim of pressure or assault when Touka clearly pulls away from the first kiss and Kaneki goes back for more. Also note that Touka on the bottom when penetration happens not on top. Kaneki is the one in control in that moment. Its his move, he either pushes forward and penetrates or nothing happens. Kaneki is willing and happy about this.

Haters need to stop trying to hide behind fake concern for Touka or the quality of the manga. Stop trying to hide behind this idea that Ishida disrespected Touka by depicting her making love with the man she loves. People keep calling it hentai but if you’ve ever seen hentai then you know its far more detailed and explicit then this chapter. Hentai has girls bodies on full display, breast bounces around all over the place, genitals fully exposed, positioned in was to show off their bodies. Often the guy is transparent at times just so you can see the females breast, vagina, ass or anus on full display. How in the seven hells is that in anyway similar to how Ishida drew touken making love? Yeah, its not.

Women are not these pure objects for people to place on a pedestals and then toss aside when they no longer fit the “pure” image. Touka isnt any less for having sex, she isnt a slut or a horrid person. Even if she had banged 1, 5 or 20 guys(or women) she’s still not a slut. She lost her virginity and she isnt any less for it and no one should lose respect for her or Ishida for it.

Kill this idea that woman having sex is bad, gross or takes away from a woman.

Everyone with these backwards ideas and stupid ass view can shove it. Touka wasnt horrible sexualized, she isnt now a “slut” and she isnt a abuser either.

(sorry binche for this long rambling submission)

Lie to me? Steal my work? Have fun going from 52K a year to minimum wages.

(warning: long story)

Takes place back in 2014, long read with a lot of buildup to revenge. I was about a year into my job and was being recognized for my talents and promoted pretty regularly. I was constantly being used as the liaison between my company and the client companies we had business and contracts with, and literally have saved our contract companies hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Then I was approached by Amy, who was in another department, for a job opportunity in the next month or so. She was going out on medical leave and was going to train me to take over her position in the interim and then fully take it over once she came back and moved into a new role. I was ecstatic because I knew she had a salary position and that’s what I really wanted. Most of the salaried positions in the company were the kind you had direct reports and in my industry there is a lot of stupid and handholding so I was not looking forward to have to deal with that stuff, but here was this angel offering me the salary I wanted and the stepping stone I wanted to get further in the company, all without having to deal with stupidity on a daily basis! So for the next 3 weeks I’m pulled from my current duties about twice a week to train in her position. In the beginning it was really menial stuff to get aquatinted with her department but then we started getting into the bigger Excel stuff. Now her job was 90% Excel based, but in having her teach me her job and the duties and deadlines for certain things I realized she was basically flying by with basic Excel knowledge (I’m taking formulas to do math and VLOOKUPs were the majority of what she used in EVERYTHING). Now I was really okay with it and knew I could bring a lot more to the position with my knowledge and really help out the management team and showcase my expertise to them.

Keep reading

Webs || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,331 words

Request from @bbparker : Hey could you please do an imagine with Peter Parker where your cat (or your dog aha) runs away and you’re upset over it but Spider-Man brings it back (because you’re obvs friends with Peter) for you and the whole cheesy Spider-Man kiss happens? Thanks very much! :) (Also my @ is BBParker but my tumbles being a bitch aha so could you pls tag?)

No spoilers, fam. I didn’t edit it I’m sorry

Originally posted by fyeahmarvel

Y/N strolled through her neighborhood with her new dog on his leash. As an early birthday gift, her family got her a new dog. She hadn’t decided on a name for the dog, but she thought it would be nice to take the pooch on his first walk around the neighborhood. The dog had been pulling on the leash hard for a while, but Y/N just thought he was excited. The dog suddenly got out of his collar and starting bolting down the street.

“Come back!” She shouted, running after the small creature, but he was too fast for her. Y/N stopped, resting against a lamp post while trying to regain her breath as she watched the dog flee from her sight. “Come back,” she whispered breathlessly, hoping the dog would miraculously stop, and run back to her.

Y/N slumped her shoulders, tears starting to build up in her eyes. She dragged her body back to her house. She saw her front door quickly approaching. What would she tell her family,she thought. Yeah, the new dog you just got me escaped from the collar cause it wasn’t tight enough, and ran away.

She opened the door solemnly and rushed to her room trying to avoid any confrontation. She jumped onto her bed, putting her head in her hands. The poor dog was probably all scared and alone. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop her tears. Y/N grabbed her phone from her pocket, wanting to vent to her best friend, Peter.

Y/N has had a crush on Peter since as long as she’s known him. She always thought that he was such a great person, who deserved the entire world. When he told her about the Stark Internship and going to Germany to fight Captain America as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man she was shocked. She wouldn’t have ever thought that the man, or as she realized boy, swinging around the city was her best friend.

Peter also had a crush on her, he just never voiced his thoughts. If she didn’t like him once he told her, that would’ve ruined there entire friendship. Peter would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all. Telling her that he was Spider-Man was the first step to confessing his feelings because that meant he trusted her enough. One day he was going to tell her how he felt, one day. 

Hey Pete. She typed quickly on her phone.

Hola, Y/N. What’s up?

Y/N sighed, thank god he wasn’t busy.

Can I call you? She texted back, biting her lip. He didn’t reply, instead his contact name appeared on her screen with a green and red button. She pressed the green one, letting out a sigh. She press her phone to her ear.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” He asked in a worried tone. She heard shuffling through the phone.

“I lost my dog.” She sniffled, trying to sound somewhat normal. The shuffling in the background stopped, “You don’t have a dog.” He said slowly, not wanting to provoke his friend in any way.

“I just got him today as an early birthday gift. Look, I’ll text you a picture of him. If you see him while your fighting crime, can you like, get him. I don’t know what to do.” She said sadly, shaking her head.

“Of course,” he replied but paused, causing more shuffling, “Look, I gotta go.The whole superhero thing. I’ll talk to you later alright?” He stated, his voice now slightly muffled. Y/N raised an eyebrow but ignored the situation. “Alright, bye.” Peter ended the call, not replying.

It had been an hour since her dog escaped her grasp. She decided to go out looking for him again, hopping for the best.It was starting to get dark outside but Y/N wanted to make sure that the poor animal was okay. So she put her shoes back on and grabbed the leash, with the collar still attached, leaving the house.

She looked around a few blocks but sadly, came up empty handed. Y/N was ready to give up when she heard barking coming from the alleyway. “Just my luck, the scariest alley on the block.” She mumbled to herself, walking into the dark abyss.

“Hey, puppy, where are you?” Y/N said softly as if she was talking to a baby. She heard barking coming from above her. The dog was on the fire escape to one of the buildings. “What the fu-” Before she could answer,she heard footsteps behind her. Terrified, she slowly turned around.

Y/N was met with the red and blue tights of Spider-Man. The man stood, waving a hand towards her, “Hey, Y/N.” He said slightly confused.

“Oh thank god,” She said letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding while placing her hand on her chest, “I thought it was someone that was going to kill me.” She let out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you still out here, looking for your dog?” He asked crossing his arms. Y/N brought a hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

“I found him actually. But he somehow managed to get stuck on the fire escape.” She stated, pointing to the adorable dog above her.

“Well,” Peter started dramatically, “I think I can help.” He cockily said, shooting his webs toward the dog’s direction. Spider-Man was hanging from his webs from a staircase that was above the dog. He spun himself upside down, now facing the panting dog. “Hey there little buddy.” He said, grabbing the dog with one hand, holding the web with the other.

He slide down the web, right in front of Y/N, handing her the dog. She grabbed the dog, “Awe, you’re okay.” She said, petting the dog, putting him down. She took the leash that she was holding, now putting it on the dog securely.Y/N stood up, holding the leash tightly in one hand, giving him a slight closed lip smile. She reached her hands up, right under the opening of his mask. She pulled it down, just under his nose. It’s now or never. She thought to herself

She leaned in, closing her eyes. Peter closed his eyes as well, not knowing what else to do. She put one hand on his masked cheek. She placed her lips upon his, in a short yet sweet passionate kiss. Y/N pulled away, opening her eyes slowly, with a smile on her face. “Thank you Peter.” Y/N beamed, walking out of the alley with her dog beside her.

Peter stayed where he was on his webs, unable to move from what just happened. He jumped down from his position, standing on the ground with his jaw slacked. He then smiled widely, pulling his mask down and swinging away.

Y/N slammed her from door shut, taking the leash off of the dog. She was so happy that she had found the dog and even happier that she saw Spider-Man. Kissed him even. She smiled, running to her room, giggling. 

A few weeks later, Peter decided to ask her out. She obviously said yes. The two where hanging out at Y/N house in her room. They heard footsteps coming towards her room, which turned out to be her dog. The dog walked up to Peter sniffing him, before starting to lick the teenage boy. The act made Peter laugh and pet the dog’s soft head.

“What did you name him?” Peter asked, turning to Y/N while still petting the dog. Y/N chuckled, “Umm, I named him Webs.”

His eyes widened, with a small smile evident on his face, “You didn’t.”

“I had to,” She said shrugging your shoulders, “You’re his savior after all.”

5H billboard

hate me. unfollow me. i dont care. but i really really need to take this shit off of my chest. i just fucking read the article of 5h saying shit towards camila.

the fact that fifth harmony had the audacity to lie and tell everyone that they dont have any idea that camila will leave the group, and they were all “shocked” that camila’s representatives told them about camila’s sudden departure, when in reality… they already removed camila in the trademark since April 2016. but then camila still worked hard for eight STRAIGHT months, she even finished the tour with them and received zero cents and y'all are calling her selfish. tf?

when camila left the concert because she’s suffering from anxiety, did the fans even asked if she was okay? no. some of them kept on sending her hate even if camila apologized about leaving the show early. but when lauren was caught a weed on her bag, missed a concert, the fans made fun of her but they are concerned on what happened to her and she didnt even apologize.

ever since camila left the group, she was always being asked about 5h and about 5h new music. did camila shade the girls? no. she said nothing but positive things towards 5h. and when the girls finally got the chance to be interviewed about camila, did they said positive things to her? no. they just fucking threw shade on her. i cant believe they are preaching about feminism and yet, they just dragged their former bandmate. lmao im so done. so done with 5h.

NOW, IM JUST HAPPY THAT CAMILA IS IN THE LOVING. IM HAPPY THAT MY BABY IS HAPPY.

You know what strikes me most about this scene is the fact that alex is in the most relaxed position of the three. She’s just leaning on the balcony so calm and I think it really shows how happy and content alex is with herself now. In this moment she has both her sister and her girlfriend standing proudly with her and she couldn’t ask for anything more.

Perfection - Jughead x Reader

Request — Anonymous asked: Juggie x reader where reader’s thought of as pretty but hasn’t dated anyone before because most guys just Like her for her looks. One day a bully tries to force himself on her and a wild Jughead appears and saves the day??? Thanks

A/N — Thank you so much for all the positive feedback I got on my last imagine! I thought I rushed it completely and I felt like it wasn’t like the request, but it made me happy seeing all the likes and shares. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this imagine!

Words: 2500

Warnings: Bullying, swearing, signs of sexual harassment and angst

(Y/N) , (Y/L/N) , (S/C) , (H/T) — Your name, your last name your favourite colour, skin colour, home town

She was just one other face in the hallway, but somehow she stood out. The boys, along with some girls, made her their main interest. Sure, by now she was use to it, but in a bad way. (Y/N) was the most gorgeous girl at Riverdale High School. Everyone was after her, including the people who kept silent. In fact, that was Riverdale’s own Jughead Jones. He was afraid all they would ever get to if they had the chance was be lab partners. Sadly, nothing else, or so he thought.

You moved to Riverdale a year ago from (H/T). Straight away as you walked through those great big halls on your first day, you were afraid it would be exactly like your old school. Your parent’s got a job offer, meaning they had to move to Riverdale. Of course it wasn’t a bad thing, but what was ahead of her was. A new movie, a new start, was all she wanted when learning that she was moving far away. Thank god, is all you thought to yourself.

The reason why you hated your old school was due to only one person. In fact, that person was a boy. A cute boy at the time, but learnt later on to be absolutely vile. His name was Jake. He was a senior, whereas at the time you were only freshman. Since you were ahead of your grade in science, you had the honour to move to senior classes instead of freshman ones. That’s when trouble all started. Since laying eyes on him, you knew it was going to be bad. Sure, his eyes were deep and blue, the kind that looked look a starry night sky, but it was a rabbit hole to fall in to. Since the two of you were assigned lab partners, you got to know him more and more everyday, meaning that the feelings you had for him grew too. One day after class, he asked you out on a ‘date’ to go to a party another senior was hosting while his parents were gone on a business trip. Since your parents never allowed you to date, you decided to be a little rebellious and sneak out with him whilst they were out of town. When it came time for him to pick you up, he was slightly intoxicated, sitting in the drivers seat of his car. You knew straight away it was going to be a bad night. In fact, it was. He got more and more drunk that night, leaving him to almost lead you to a bedroom to have sex in. You called him out, all the boys ganged up and told you to leave, walking all the way home in the pouring rain. That next day of school, someone photoshopped your face on a girl in a revealing bikini was sent to every boy with the caption ‘slut’. Luckily it was a miracle, the move to Riverdale, that was a sign to a fresh new start.

She was wary of every boy that caught her glimpse since her first day. She obviously didn’t want a repeat of the last incident that still haunted her. Boys asked her out, but she kindly declined with the excuse that her parents didn’t allow her to date. Someone assumed she was a lesbian, but that was just a rumour. At least the boys here we nice enough to accept her response. Since still being fairly new, you didn’t really acknowledge many people as your friends, as you didn’t exactly know who to trust anymore. One person, the only person, was the only exception. Jughead Jones, the only boy that acknowledged you as a human being with feelings and stories. Since of your high IQ, you were still assigned to a couple higher classes to fit your standards. You didn’t mind the classes, especially science, as it was your favourite subject. And your lab partner, which happened to be Jughead, wasn’t your usual douchebag preppy jock that only wanted you for your looks.

The day was Friday. Most of your classes that day was with Jug. Of course you didn’t mind as he was the only person you got along with. As you were late to school, you quickly went to the office to grab a late note for your teacher to give on arrival. When you made it to English that morning, to your surprise, Jughead saved you a seat next to his. It was knew of him. Jughead always seemed to have a huge opinion on personal space, but this was new to her, including a couple classmates. She held in a chuckle walking over to her seat which sat next to his.

“So, did I miss anything on Shakespeare?” (Y/N) whispered, opening her bag to take out her books. “Shit, do you have a pen?” She asked, still trying to search deep into her bag to find where her pen could be. Jughead picked up the pan that already sat on his desk, waving it in front of her, as she looked up and thanked him taking it.

“No problem. But with the Shakespeare question? Yeah, I’m a bit sick of hearing Romeo & Juliet over and over again.” Jughead confessed, a smirk playing on his lips as he took out a new pen for himself. “At least it’s not Macbeth this time.” You smiled, trying to not giggle too loudly.

For the last two weeks, news spread that there was a party hosted by Chuck Clayton that night in honour of Riverdale’s football team, the Bulldogs, latest win against their rival school. Of course that wasn’t on your interest, as fear hit you like a dozen bricks all at once. But there was no fear in asking others if they were going. Since Archie Andrews, Jughead’s best friend, well, no one really knew what they were at the moment, she thought he would tag along with Archie to support his win.

“…So, did you hear about that party tonight?”  You hesitantly asked, looking up from your work into Jughead’s eyes. Every time she looked into them, a hit of familiarity came over her. A deep blue, similar to Jake’s. Of course she knew that Jughead wasn’t like every other boy, but she didn’t exactly know every single thing about him and she was still wary of her surroundings. All he did was scoff in response, stretching his arms out.

“Do you really think I would go to one of Chuck’s stupid parties? It’s just an excuse to drink and flirt with people whilst you’re drunk.” Jughead informed, support his head with his hands before resting his chin on the table.

“O-oh, b-but what about Archie? Aren’t you going to support him?” As soon as those words escaped her lips, his head shot up.

“Look, (Y/N), ever since Jason’s death, we haven’t really been talking. You see, the morning of the gunshot, Archie and I were suppose to go camping a bit out of Riverdale for summer vacation. I was packed and everything, ready to go. But he never showed up. So basically, my summer consisted of writing, eating, and playing video games.” Jughead explained to her. (Y/N) was aware of the gruesome death of Jason Blossom. Since it was big deal in Riverdale, of course she would have heard about it by now since it was brought up almost everyday, and she knew Jughead was fascinated in the mystery of it, as one day the two of them were both at Pop’s to finish some homework and he showed her the process of the book he’s writing.

“Jug, I’m sorry to hear that. If it makes you feel any better, I’m not going either. Long story, I’ll tell you if I ever get the chance. I might go to the Drive-In or something.” You suggested, going back to your writing. Jughead’s eyes lit up as you mentioned the Drive-In. Since it was where he worked, and literally where he lived, he sparked interest to make tonight’s shift a little more fancier since she was going.

“Since when did you find you go to Drive-In’s? I work there, so, technically I have to be there. But I run the reels up in the projection room, so I just put it in and snack away on popcorn. I find it more fascinating watching it in a point of view sort of way. If you want, maybe I could show you what it’s like?” The end part to what he said came out almost in a question. Jughead was hesitant, shy almost at the suggestion to her. He was head over heels for (Y/N), and the main focus on her wasn’t her appearance for once.

“S-sure, Jughead. I’d love to.” That answer caught him by surprise, along with herself too. After one whole year of not going out, staying in most of the time, she deserved one night off from the troubles of teenage life. “What were you thinking of playing tonight?” She asked, curious in his movie taste.

“Well, I have a couple in mind. Maybe ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ or ‘Heathers’.” He replied, fiddling with the pen between his fingers.

“Both. I like your movie taste, Mr Jones.” She complimented, a blush slowly clinging to her (S/C) cheeks.

The period before lunch was finally over. The hallways filled up with loud students as Jughead and you tried to manage to make it to the end to sit with Veronica, Betty, Kevin and Archie.

“Hold on a second, I have to quickly get something from my locker.” She told Jughead, walking over to her locker that was opposite her.

“Sure, I’ll just wait in the cafeteria. I’ll save you seat.” He hung his head low, hiding a blush as he dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket before spinning on his heels and walking off. (Y/N) smiled back at him, a blush now on her cheeks as she turned to face her locker to put in the code to unlock it. She quickly put in her books as she took out her perfume, looking around the hallway in sight of Jug before spraying a bit on herself. She placed it back in her locker as she shut her locker, a boy standing behind it now in her sight, making her jump.

“Whoa, didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckled, biting his lip as he looked up and down at you, instantly making you feel uncomfortable. “(Y/N), right?” You nodded slowly, clinging onto the strap of your bag.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You said awkwardly, trying to keep conversation short as she didn’t want to hold up Jughead waiting for her.

“Chuck. Chuck Clayton. Captain of the Bulldogs. Anyway, I have this party tonight which I really think you should come to. It seems like your kinda thing.” Chuck asked, still eyeing your body up and down, making you now extremely uncomfortable. You’ve heard from Veronica and Betty bad things about Chuck from the past which got him suspended and kicked off the team. But since his dad was coach, they somehow let him back on and everyone pretended like nothing happened.

“O-oh, yeah, I’ve heard about it. I-I, look, uh… parties aren’t really my thing and I have plans anyway. I-I’m sorry.” She kindly declined, turning to quickly lock her locker before Chuck forced his hand onto it, holding it down.

“Aw, really? You know, the whole football team was looking forward on your arrival? I mean, I promised them and everything. And you’re just going to let us down like that, (Y/N)?” At this point, he cornered you against the lockers. You knew what was going to happen. The hyperventilating started, the tears on the corner of your eyes were about to break and the ball in your throat was keeping you completely still.

“C-Chuck, I-I… I have to go-..” (Y/N) tried telling him, but the ball in her throat dropped and a tear shed down her cheek.

“Aw, look, are you crying? You won’t be crying by the end of this.” He smirked at her, biting down on his lip before a sudden bang against the locker broke his grip off her. Jughead stood at the end of the hall, a steady glare held onto Chuck’s eyes.

Let. Go. Of. Her.” He forcefully said, the breathing in his chest visible as he tried his hardest to be calm yet stern, although he was furious and out of his mind. Chuck just laughed, still cornering her as he turned his focus to Jughead.

“Or what, Wednesday Addams? Are you going to tell on me?” He joked, now looking back at her as he held on higher to (Y/N)’s arm. At this point, Jughead was in absolutely rage.

“I said let go of her, Chuck.” He screamed, his eyes now tearing up along with yours. No one has ever stood up for you and it felt like a honour for it to be Jughead. Chuck let go of her, shoving her against the lockers as he stared at her once again before stepping back from her looking at the both of them.

Freaks.” He mumbled, before walking off and disappearing from the hallway. You looked at Jughead before walking over to him and standing opposite him.

“Why did you stand up for me?” You said sternly, looking deep into his eyes. Jughead once again scoffed, a glare now facing her.

“You’re kidding me, right? I just saved you and you’re asking such a stupid question?” He replied, looking down at her.

No! Jughead, I didn’t mean it like that!” She giggled staring up into his eyes as she stood directly under his nose. “It’s just, no one has ever stood up to me before. Ever. And I genuinely feel honoured for you to do that. Thank you.” She sniffed, blinking away tears.

“I-I..God this is going to sound stupid. Look, (Y/N), I-I..I just wanted to protect you.” He admitted, looking down at her, captivated by the beauty in her. A smile played on her lips as she sighed deeply.

“…Jug?” There was a pause. He was waiting for what she was going to say. And just like that, the perfection moment was perfection. She stood on her toes as she closed her eyes, placing her lips on his as she held onto his jacket. Their lips both moved in sync as he moved his hands from inside his pockets to hold onto her soft cheeks, deepening the kiss with passion and love. Shortly after, they both pulled away and he smirked down at her.

“Pick me up at 8.” She bit her lip, walking off in the hallway to class as the bell rang, leaving him standing there with a goofy grin playing on his lips.

A/N — You guys, I am so proud of this writing I am so happy aaaa. Also, if this uploads and I get the followers, thank you for 1000? I don’t know, as I’m writing this I haven’t checked my notifications, but if I have yay! I hope you enjoyed this because I find it so cute to write.

listen…i’ve literally never been disappointed by any of peridot’s appearances. like not once. no matter what she does, how she’s drawn, or how she’s written, peridot will always manage to make me smile, because i love her so much. she brightens my day by just being on screen. i always get the biggest stupidest grin on my face when she walks on screen in a episode or i see a picture of her on my dash…peridot makes me so happy guys

So I’ve been thinking about the idea of Blue mirroring Lance in terms of hidden insecurity, and while I cannot for the life of me remember where I saw it, I saw someone on tumblr post “everyone thinks of Blue as the low standards Lion” in reference to her bio painting her as the most accepting.

And I think about that, and… what that means.

Because Blue just as much as all of the other Lions is shown to hold out for her designated paladin. She doesn’t grab Keith any of the numerous times he was there and she could’ve gone home immediately. And considering Blue is Lance’s Lion- that wasn’t a small temptation. If she’s specifically good at working with people who aren’t ideal paladin matches, if she can get along with just about anyone- every time Keith went to that cave Blue would have that temptation.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What is your fav headcanon for Shiro? I have one that he loves rock gardens and he has a bunch of mini ones that he uses when he's upset or anxious cause they help him calm down,,, but since they're mini he's rly gentle with them cause he's afraid or breaking them or messing them up,,,, it's just so cute to think abt to me!!,

I LOVE THIS okay headcanons for Shiro because I love him and any excuse to gush about him:

  • Mini rock gardens? I’M SO DOWN
  • Also consider: Shiro keeping bonsai trees and taking care of them and very carefully pruning them and looking after them
  • Pre-Kerberos Shiro was really friendly and kind but like… lowkey a perfectionist who could get really stressed out about exams and things
  • When Shiro was in the Galra prison, he did pushups and squats and lunges in his cell everyday to try and feel in control of what was happening to him
    • That’s why he was doing pushups in his room in 1x02: force of habit
  • Shiro has adapted different coping mechanisms for different moods:
    • Scared? Go to the gym and punch a bag for an hour
    • Anxious? Run laps of the castle
    • Sad? Glom onto one of the other Paladins. Usually Hunk, who’s a very comforting presence
    • Insecure? Goes and sits in the Black Lion’s cockpit and bonds with her. She always makes him feel better.
  • Everyone gradually starts to learn how to decode Shiro’s mood, so now when he’s sad, someone just… turns up
    • Pidge will just lean against him and work on her laptop and not say anything
    • Lance entertains Shiro with wild stories from the garrison days, and Shiro always ends up laughing
    • Keith is Terrible At Emotions, so he just sorta… lurks around trying to be supportive until Shiro bursts out laughing at how ridiculous it is
  • Allura finds Shiro in the cockpit of the Lion looking forlorn and he admits why he’s there and she just hugs him and tells him what a great leader he is and she’s so happy she met him
  • Shiro Will Not Cry in front of anyone - anyone - except Allura.
  • Coran basically adopts Shiro as his son

So yes as you can see my favourite Shiro headcanon is Shiro getting the love and support and validation of his team to help him pull through his terrible PTSD and anxiety :)))

Alright here we go...

To the people who are saying that 13 Reasons Why is “romanticizing suicide” or that it “portrays suicide as a way of finding peace”…..

Um. Absolutely not? Did we watch the same show?

The E N T I R E show is about the grief, anger, confusion, blame, and suffering that suicide can leave behind. Just because Hannah left tapes saying why she did it, doesn’t mean it gave anybody a sense of peace. The ending was 0.0% peaceful. The show is brutal and honest. This shit HAPPENED at my high school. It’s STILL happening in high school AND COLLEGE. These are very real and everyday struggles people go through, and that’s why it’s so critical to watch.

It is ABSOLUTELY important to talk about suicide because it is an extremely SERIOUS and REAL thing. Just because we are bringing it to light on a Netflix show doesn’t mean that it’s going to become “mainstream” or that the weight of the word “suicide” will become ANY less. No. Bringing this to light means that we can have one more way to help others understand why kids in high school (or even later in life) can feel this way. It means that if someone is considering taking their own life that maybe they will feel less ashamed or embarrassed seeking help and being open and honest about how they’re feeling. That maybe it is worth giving that one extra try. People saying Hannah got a sense of peace after making the tapes…absolutely fucking not? It was just her equivalent of a suicide note, she didn’t want to die. There was no true “moment of peace” when she died. So there was no glorifying the suicide process or making it seem peaceful. And if you watched (I’m not going to ruin it for anyone) you would see that doing what she did didn’t have any sort of positive or settling affect on any of those kids. It tore them up. There are no happy endings to a story like this.

Guys, talking about how you’re feeling IS OKAY. DO NOT BE EMBARRASSED TO SAY HOW YOU FEEL. YOU’RE FEELINGS MATTER. YOU MATTER. DON’T SUPPRESS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. SEEK HELP FROM FRIENDS, FAMILY, AND/OR PROFESSIONALS!

I’m incredibly proud of 13 Reasons Why and I’m even more proud of my friends who were in the show telling this vital story. YES it is extremely triggering because this stuff is real, so please be mindful of that. I’ve had a couple friends and family who had to take a break, but I think it’s so important for everyone to watch at some point in their lives as soon as they’re ready to. ♥️

6

BEFORE YOU FLIP TABLES

Yesterday was the perfect example of a bad day for me. It was one of those days where nothing just seems to work, you forget everything, you lose stuff, everything goes out of hand, and just as you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse, something else comes up. Let’s not go into details, suffice it to say the day was just horrendous.

I did, however try my best to stay positive. Told my friend Jaido who was with me that day everything that happened since morning. After hearing me rant about my miserable Sunday, she suddenly lit up- which definitely was a strange reflex. Uhm, hello, why are you happy over my suffering? Her answer was life-changing. She answered, “because your suffering means better things are coming!!!”

That positivity was so admirable MashaAllah. Her words instantly made me feel better. It was somewhat magical because I could have sworn I felt like trash two seconds before. The amount of faith she has for God is so profound. Another lesson I learnt that day was, sometimes we focus too much on the problem, we become somewhat blind towards the blessings existing concurrently. Allah says in the Quran, with hardship comes ease. WITH and not AFTER. SubhanAllah, Jaido was definitely a blessing. She was simply heaven-sent. I’m so fortunate to have such optimistic friends who knows just the right things to say when I’m at my lowest.

When He removes something in your possession it is only in order to empty your hands for an even greater gift. - Ibn Qayyim

So if you’re having one of those days, remember, BETTER THINGS ARE COMING!

*cues “Jason Mraz - Life is Wonderful” in the background*

Love, light and laughter,
Aisyah Shakirah


(Shots taken that very day at Masjid Wilayah by @atiq259 on instagram)

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Eight)
  • The first section of this story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?
  • The second section will explore the aftermath of Claire and Jamie’s reunion, following their journey as they work to build a new life together. 

Section Two: A Hundred More 

(Eight) 


So close,” that wretched, strangled voice kept choking out over and over again. “Claire—” He kept trying to hold her closer, wrap his body around hers still more completely, searching, searching for her, though he knew she was beneath him. “So—so close—

To losing her. He had come mere minutes, moments away from losing her forever, again, right before his eyes.

Shhhh, darling, I know,” she kept whispering into his hair, his neck, though she was sobbing as hard as he. “I know—It’s—It’s alright, love—” 

“Don’t go…” The snow-flecked dark seemed to spin and scream around him, throwing everything into a hellish whirl that he couldn’t grasp, about to throw him off the very face of the earth. “Claire, ye canna—Claire—don’t—go—” 

“I’m not going—anywhere—” she gasped out, clutching harder around his back. “It’s over, Jamie—All—over….”  She cupped his head so urgently, so tenderly as she cradled him and wept into his shoulder. “Shhhh, it’s alright, love…it’s alright…It’s all over….

He hadn’t let her out of his arms, not for one single moment.

Those minutes on the hill, his body, his heart, his MIND had all been on the verge of shattering from the terror that she was leaving him. The strength—the pure, desperate strength— it had taken to keep upright and to speak, to ask instead of screaming and lunging? Never, not even in battle, had he ever felt something like that: the absolute life of him being ripped apart before him, shred by shred, hope by hope, until he was no more than a bloodied, quivering plea. 

 

But then, she had run to him and he had become flesh again, breathing and needing, with arms that could hold and a soul that could feel joy, this joy, 

and the rest of world had gone still. 


It had been hours—or perhaps only moments—before he’d crumpled to the ground.  Utterly overcome, utterly dissolved in relief and love, in scarce-contained panic, he’d laid her down and covered her like a cloak with his body, surrounding her, trying to convince himself that she was real. 

There, on the frozen ground of the faerie hill, oblivious to the wind and the snow, they’d broken apart in one another’s arms, each kept from vanishing only by the other grasping them tight enough to bruise, from feeling their arms, hearing what words they could manage to gasp out; and it was both everything and scarcely anything at all compared to what they each felt, in those moments. 

“Claire….” 

She felt the same under his hands, exactly the same. It was the same voice—the same gentle hands—the same glorious spirit. She was Claire; and he was going to die from her. 

“Are you shaking from—” She had to stop and get her sobbing breath under control before she could finish. “—from—crying— or cold?”

He truly didn’t know. 

She pushed up his sleeve. “God, Jamie, you’re like ice,” she moaned. He felt her shifting and fumbling about. “Here, put—Take this—”

Though he was still shaking, still barely able to see through swollen eyes, he managed to pull the cloak out from beneath her and throw it over them both, heads and all. It was quite large, of good, thick wool, and a pocket of warmth instantly began to form around them. While he wouldn’t have thought the cold had been affecting him so very much, the change was like a dram of good brandy, rushing through his body from head to toe in an instant. His sobbing eased, his mind began to clear, his breathing slowing to something like a normal pace. He could hear hers doing the same, tapering and settling as the calm and the gentle pool of heat settled over them both. 

He had had both arms around her before they’d shifted, hands gripping her side and twined in her hair, needing in every muscle and fiber of him to hold her. Now, in utter darkness, without even the faint glow of the snow-clouds to illuminate her, he could only reach for her face, needing, paradoxically, to see her, to look into her eye. And the moment his palm came to rest on her cheek— so cold and slick with tears—she gave a little whimpering sound that might have been his name, and she was reaching up for his mouth. He couldn’t stop kissing her; tasting her; touching her; couldn’t stop moaning her name. All the years—All the years of longing for her, and she was here in his arms, sharing his breath. 

“I’m here,” she kept saying back against his lips, knowing that he needed to be told. “I’m here, Jamie….I’m here….”


“When I saw ye,” he said, a long time later, when the world had once more gone quiet, his hand pressed against her heart. “When I saw ye climbing up that hill, Claire—” 

Jamie had found the horse a mile or two back. It was one of the Lallybroch mares, a beast he’d broken himself and would have known anywhere. Terror had driven him all the way from the Lallybroch dooryard, or so he had thought. No, he had only felt the true, ripping claws of it when he had seen that riderless horse and known that he had come too late. The furious minutes of that last hellish gallop were a blank in his memory, but he remembered the ecstatic fury of seeing her up there in the distance; seeing her turning; and then the life dropping out of him once more as she began to sprint upward, away from him, toward the stones.

“What would you have done?” Claire whispered, stroking his face. “If I had kept running?”

“I’d have run faster,” he said with what voice he had left, “and pinned ye to the ground until ye listened to sense.”

She stiffened. “…You’d have stopped me by force?”

He forgot the complete darkness enshrouding them and gave her a look.  “If you’re asking ‘would I have done whatever I could to keep ye running off forever before ye kent all the truth’ you’re damned right, I would. I’d have tied ye hand and foot to a tree, if I had to.”

“You bloody man,” she muttered, and it was not said in fondness. “Nothing changed.”

Anger flared up in him, red-hot and blinding with panic, and he closed his hand tight around her wrist. “You were going to just leave, Claire,” he hissed. “Can ye honestly blame me? God, I’m still so furious that ye would have—Had I not—” He swore, shaking her. “You damnable, foolish wom—

“Oh, is that the way of things?” she snarled at him, her breath hot in his face. “So, when YOU sacrifice your own feelings and well-being for love, it’s noble and right, but when I do, I’m just a ‘foolish woman?’”

“That’s—Damn you, that isna at all—”

She yanked herself out of his grasp. “Can you honestly tell me, James Fraser, that if the circumstances were reversed—if you’d somehow found your way to 1968—found that I’d married someone new—heard I’d had a child by him and was by all accounts blissfully happy—you’d have just waltzed right in and thrown yourself at me? You’d truly have put me in that position?”

Jesus.

“No,” he moaned, defeated, as the true tragedy of what she’d been planning to do for his sake settle around him. “No, I….I couldna have put ye through such a choice.”

“Well, I bloody couldn’t do it to you, either,” she spat at him, sobs starting to shudder through her again in her rage. “No matter how much—much it tore me apart to—”  

“Oh, lass….” He felt her convulse and cover her face with both hands, as though she might hide from the terror of what they’d so nearly lost.  “No,” he moaned, gathering her tight against his chest, covering her again, the intimacy between them knitting together once more. “No, it was noble what ye meant to do, Claire. If what Jenny told ye had been true, it would have been right. I—Christ, that ye would have done that for my sake…Thank you.” 

‘”Jamie….”

“We’ve been lucky, Sassenach.” He rocked her softly, buried his face in her hair as she wept.  “God….we’ve been so lucky, today. We were in the right places at the precise right moments to find one another again.” He kissed her, softly hushing as she had done for him. “And now, it’s all over, just as ye said… We’ll never be parted again, I swear it, Claire.” He sealed the promise with a kiss in the hollow of her neck. 

Not ever.


“But what—what will we do?” she managed, voice taut with worry. “About Laoghaire? The girls?”

What will we do, indeed?

“I dinna ken….not precisely,” he admitted. 

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,” she said, with a tremulous smile in her voice. 

Lovely wee smartarse. 

“We’ll find some arrangement that separates me from Laoghaire as honorably as can be managed. You and I are still man and wife, after all. That must count for something wi’ the law.” 

Wife. His wife. 

Lord have mercy upon his soul, WIVES. 

“It will be a tricky business, Claire, and I’ll no’ say it will be over quickly, but I will fight for it with everything that I have.”

“What if it can’t be managed honorably?”

He exhaled. “Then I shall find a way to reconcile wi’ dishonor.”

She choked out a laugh and held him tighter, sighing in deep relief. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. At least we’ll be in hell together, eh?”

“And a happy damnation t’will be.” 

A warm, pulsing happiness had pushed away the tears from their sanctuary, and he suddenly wondered how long he could keep his eyes open amid such peace. He’d slept scarce more than an hour at a time on the ride from Lallybroch, and only then when he could no longer stay upon the horse. Each and every time, he’d awoken in a dead-panic that he’d slept overlong, leapt right into the saddle, and repeated the harrowing process over and over, pushing himself to the very limits until he reached Craigh na Dun. 

It wasn’t merely the actual fatigue—it was the relief. Many a time in his life—from battlefields to his examinations in the Paris days—he had witnessed the body’s incredible stamina to push through lack of sleep, of food, and of physical strength. It will go to incredible lengths to complete the task at hand, to survive. When the deed is accomplished, though, it takes its own, and fairly well damns the consequences. Jamie was hungry, true, but that could wait. Sleep, though…No, that could wait as well. In the growing warmth of her body and his together, captured by the warm cloak, it was harder and harder by the minute; but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Not one. 

“Will you tell me….” It was such a tiny voice that asked it; so tentative and careful. “…why Laoghaire?”

He stiffened, steadied himself with a breath. It was a fair question.

“She was…there,” he hazarded, “at the right time, when I was come back to Lallybroch. It was Jenny’s idea, ken?”

“Mm.” A great deal unsaid in that mm, perhaps having to do with the destructive nature of Jenny’s ideas of late.

“She seemed—sweet, I suppose. Eager, and—Wi’ the wee lassies to feed, she needed me; and I needed—I needed something, too.

Claire didn’t say a word.

“I am sorry, mo chridhe. I ken it’s—painful.” 

“Oh?” 

“Well, I certainly dinna delight in thinking of the men that have shared your bed.”

To his surprise, she bristled. “It’s not that she was another woman, Jamie. It’s that it was her.” 

“I do ken she was quite the jealous brat, all those years ago, at Leoch,” he said, carefully, at something of a loss. “But she was naught but a wee lassie at the time. Surely ye can forgive her a few youthful indiscretions?”

“Youthful ind—?” He heard her choke back whatever retort she had planned and instead breathe through her nose, calming herself. She was being careful, so careful, but there was true indignation, there, true hurt, kept in check for his sake.

“Say it, mo ghraidh.” He touched her face, bent down to kiss her. “Tell me what it is.”

“Wouldn’t it trouble you,” she said, very quietly, “if had chosen to marry someone who’d gone out of their way to have you hurt and killed?”

“Killed?” 

“Cranesmuir? Surely you remember that little episode?” 

He felt a jolt run through him. Then it walloped him over the head like a brick. “Laoghaire? She was—?”

“Jamie, she was the one who arranged for me to be taken with Geillis Duncan, that day, for Christ’s sake! You knew that! Surely we discussed it??”

“We certainly DID NOT. Sassenach! BELIEVE me, had I I known, I would never have taken her to wife. NEVER.” He gripped her tight, as though he could look into her eyes. “Had I KNOWN….Christ, the wicked wee bitch!

She laughed at that. “Well good, I’m—That’s a burden off my mind. I’d certainly have understood if you’d remarried. I did understand, until you mentioned her name. Lord,” she laughed, groaning. “Laoghaire bloody MacKenzie. Laoghaire….Fraser.” 

Lord forgive him, he had given Claire’s would-be murderess his name, shared her bed. “I’m—I’m truly so ashamed, Sassenach.” He felt as though he would vomit. “I’m so sorry for this. After what she did—” 

“Don’t be,” she said at once, and he heard the sincerity in her voice. “You didn’t know, and would have had no reason to ask. It’s water under the bridge. Though,” she said with good humor, “I do reserve my right to make snide comments from time to time, at her expense only, not yours.”  

“’Tis only your due,” he laughed weakly, grateful for the gift of levity, which did help the anxiety and shame abate. 

“Jamie, can I ask, does it….?”

More to do with Laoghaire, surely. 

“Does it what, mo nighean donn?”

“Does it frighten you? How—easy this is?” She touched his chest. “Like it was only yesterday we last saw each other?”

He released the breath he had been holding and touched her face. “It frightens me only insomuch as it makes my heart feel whole again; and it hasna been for a verra long time. It frightens me to feel that I must learn anew how to hold all these emotions in my heart, once more. But the comfort and the—us-ness between us? I couldna ever be frightened by that; no more than I could be frightened of my own voice.” He gently laid his palm flat against her breast. “Mo chridhe.” 

She traced the lines of his collarbone. “I very nearly went to Edinburgh first, you know.”

“Aye, ye said, in the…your letter.”

It was tucked away in his satchel, along with the PhotoGraphs; and he would keep it, always, but he wasn’t altogether sure he could bring himself to read it again. 

“All the way here from Lallybroch, after I spoke with your sister, I wondered if I ought to have gone there first.” She paused. “Do you think it would have been easier on us? If I had just appeared through your shop door?” 

“It would have given me back a hank of grey hairs that I’ve gained in the last week.”

She laughed, but was not to be dismissed. “What would you have done?” 

He’d have been toiling away at the presses, no doubt, with no notion of great happenings about to take place. Perhaps Fergus might have been present, but most days it was him alone in the shop. What would he have done, when he’d heard her voice with no warning? He’d likely have fainted, as he nearly did at Jenny’s news…but beyond that? What would he have done with Claire Beauchamp before him, alive and well and glowing like the June sun, ready and willing to spend the rest of her days with him? 

“I ken I wouldna have told ye all the truth…about Laoghaire and William.”

“Oh? Why should that have changed?” 

“Is it no’ clear? I’d have been so scairt that it would be too much to hear.” He shook his head in growing conviction. “For all the terror and the near-missing in the way things did come to pass, at least I was able to tell ye all, Claire, wi’ no hesitation. There was nothing more to be lost and so I was able to just say everything, some things I hadna ever once spoken aloud to everyone! It just—The truth was the only thing that could keep ye from going. And so while I canna say this is precisely how I’d have wished things to occur, everything is known between us, now, and that is right. Do ye see?” 

“It was a gift to both of us, in its way,” she whispered, “though I know it wasn’t easy.”

“No.” He squeezed her hand, feeling the fine bones and the unbearable silkiness of it. How he wished he could see her. “But if ye’d come upon me in Edinburgh, so far from home, from Laoghaire, wi’ me living under a false name already…. Lord, if you’d just arrived there before me? Handed me the moon and offered this miracle of which I’d vainly dreamed for so long? Could I have told ye I had a son? Could I have told ye was marrit and risked ye leaving at once?” He swallowed, ashamed of the truth, but knowing it was truth all the same. “No. I’d have kept it from ye as long as possible. Maybe forever.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she said with immediate, easy confidence. “You’re too much of a noble hero-type to have conscienced any such thing, Jamie Fraser, and you know it.”

God, does she truly believe that? 

A new terror gripped him and he felt his mouth go utterly dry. 

The man he had been these last years—James Fraser or Alexander Malcolm or whoever he might be when he was alone only with his thoughts—had been shaped so deeply by grief and bitterness. Crushed first in the loss of her and the bairn; then laid low by the years of hiding and imprisonment, the strain of clearances upon his family; then William, first the fear of him, then tentative joy, and then the loss, forever; and finally rushing up that crest of hope, that desperate hope that something good was to be found in marrying again, and the ache of crashing down onto the sharp realities below. 

Claire held in her arms a man bitter and broken. Was he one that she could love, really love, once the euphoria of reunion had worn away? Was the shattered man he had been merely a relic of loneliness that would now vanish with her presence? Or would traces remain? Perhaps the Jamie she had loved had ceased to be and could not be revived. In fact, he was certain that it was not so very far from the truth.

“I’m none so very noble as ye might wish to believe, Sassenach.”

He felt her stiffen. 

“Perhaps it’s that I’ve lost too much to honor, or….I’m…” He withdrew, trying to touch her as little as possible as he got the words out. “Ye must ken I’m not altogether the same man of twenty years ago, Claire.”

“You are.” 

“But I’m truly not, Claire. I wish to be, will endeavor to be, for your sake; but I have…. such fears.” 

The wind had ceased to wail outside their cloak shelter. He could hear every intake and exhale of her breaths. 

He suddenly felt her hand, cool and sure, touching his cheek, the other coming to rest on the curve of his breast. “Is your heart still mine?”

God, Claire. 

“Yours,” he croaked. “Yours, mo nighean donn. Never did it stop being so.”

“Then, we’ll manage with the rest. All the rest.” She cupped the back of his neck to pull him down closer. “I see what you fear, what you dread you are. Perhaps I couldn’t have seen it, if I’d found you in Edinburgh; but I’m here now, and I see you.” 

She saw him. Even in darkness, Claire saw him. 

I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

And though that was a point on which he had never held the faintest doubt, the hearing of it now, her declaration, his true name…. 

To be seen, and yet still be loved. 

Tears came, fast and many, and he made no move to halt them. She pulled him down to her breast, murmuring love over him again and again as sleep pressed itself upon him, her hands holding him. He could sleep, at last. Claire was watching over him.

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Happy Pride Month to all the aros and aces!! You definitely count and here are some silly aro ace headcanon doodles to bring some positivity :D Have a wonderful month!

RFA+V+Saeran: Smut #1 (Part 1)

Requested by an anon: ″Hello! My request is RFA+V+Saeran react to seeing Mc naked in the shower. Like smut and fluff please!!! Thanks <3″
Because this is multi characters so i’ll make it short for each of them. Hope you’re ok with this anon~

Side note: Because I don’t do headcanons, so I do mini fics but it’ll be too long. So for this #1, I break it into two parts. Starting from next request which will be up after #1 Part 2, I will choose 4 characters that I feel I may do a better job.
Also, I didn’t do shower for all character. I change the setting a bit.

Warning: SMUT!

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Yoosung:
I’ve been playing LOLOL all night and realize just how late it has gotten. I tell the guild’s members that I’ll stop temporarily to go take a nice shower then be back soon. With that, I stand up and make my way towards the bathroom. Perhaps my mind is too occupied by the game that I don’t notice the noises from inside at all. I open the door and the moment I do, I hear high pitch scream.
“Mc!?”

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