sorry if i stole any of these from you

dear friends of the past;

i am sorry for spoiling your dinner with lies
i am sorry for seducing you with pure friendship
when my motives were clear: i was using you for love
& street perks & another excuse to run away from depression

i am sorry for the masquerade of personalities i donned
so each of you would like me
i stole bits & pieces of traits from all of you & created a different me
than the sad & fragile ghost underneath my baggy clothes

i tried my best & i’m sorry we all drifted away into different lives
(you all became busy, so why should have i tried to force myself into a space when there wasn’t any room?)
depression devoured me while the rest of you conquered yours
i am sorry i couldn’t make it out alive to see our high school graduation
& i doubt you carried me in your hearts as you walked across the field
but i am sorry for missing our dances & get togethers
& i can never return to our hometown with guilt eating at my stomach

i drifted into a current of despondency, nobody followed
i became a lone nomad in search of a home
i am sorry none of you could suffice but i had to go my own way
to find a place where i belonged
you all were not enough for a desolate heart
nothing, not even the pouring rain could heal my wounds

i am sorry i ever tried to be your friend
you all were better off without me


twelve step program / making amends / letter two

yall bruce wayne is the most extra guy in the world like he keeps the diamond that selina stole the first time they met has it made into an engagement ring confesses love in the rain on a rooftop and proposes

Craigslist room for rent goes sour.

I was in the process of joining the military, simply waiting for the date to enter service. “It would take at least a month, but no more than a year.” Apartment lease had expired, no month-to-month payment option. Looking for some short-term housing. I was single, worked 2 part time jobs, & had cash in savings. I’m quiet, flexible, simple needs. Just needed the simplest of accommodations. I went to Craig’s List.

Met with a woman who advertised a room for rent. We’ll call her “Jill”. Jill was 20something, single, and came from a wealthy family who bought her this small 3 bedroom house, gave her a nice car, paid her bills. Jill didn’t like to work, she just “sold her art”. She made awful graphic art fan fiction on her PC, probably never sold anything but was completely obsessed with her own work and would talk about it constantly. Jill had pets. So. Many. Pets. Like 20 cats, 4 dogs, a room of birds out of their cages, and several acquariums. A bit weird/slightly skewed version of reality, but seemed nice, had a room available and price was okay. I would pay a flat rate for rent and utilities, provide my own food, and come and go as I please. Neither of us ever signed anything, just details via text and email.

She benefited from my moving in as I had transferred my cable internet connection to her house. Got the modem hooked up and used my own wireless router and let her use it for free. I also have carpentry experience so I helper her repair some door frames and some wood trim in addition to patching up some drywall. Helped her out a lot, all while requesting nothing in return. The first week was nice.

Things fell apart rapidly after that. She became manipulative, started making financial demands. The electric bill was high, I needed to pay “my part”. She had bought enough groceries for both of us without informing me, but now that milk had soured and bread molded I needed to pay for “wasted groceries”. Old busted up door knob on the side of the house broke off while taking out trash, so I needed to buy a new one. Etc…

Individually these didn’t bother me much, but there was a pattern. After just weeks, living expenses had tripled the agreed upon amount. I told her that this couldn’t happen anymore. I would pay the agreed upon amount and buy my own food. Period. This settled things…for a week.

Got back from work. In my room my guitar was gone, and in its place, a bill. A bill from a plumber who had installed a toilet. “My bathroom” needed some work done. Jill had “lost all trust” that I would fulfill “financial obligations” after I “freaked out about money before.” My guitar was hostage, locked in her bedroom until I paid for her toilet upgrade. She literally added a padlock to her bedroom door.

Time to get out. I told her I was moving out the next day (a friend already offered me his guest-room). She could keep the guitar (it was a $100 pawn shop guitar). I wasn’t going to pay to fix her house anymore.

Upon packing things came the modem discussion. She was taking an online class since she now had an internet connection. She would get her own connection “in a few days”. I was angry with her but not yet vengeful. I agreed to let her use it until my connection got transferred.

A week later, called Jill the day before the cable transfer. She said she would drop off the equipment, oddly, only while I was at work. I texted a reminder, “please don’t forget to drop off modem”, and she responded, “left it in a bag outside your front door”. Weird, but whatever. I get home that night. No bag. No modem. I text, “did you leave it at the right house? can’t find it”, she responds, “yes”.

Cable got installed, still no modem. It’ll cost me if I don’t turn in the old one. Now I’m vengeful. She’s extorted money, I’ve been nothing but helpful and considerate, she’s stolen my things, now she’s probably lying and stealing more things - which will cost even more money.

Jill took a pottery class on Thursdays, out of the house for 2 hours. Her front door had a combination keypad for entry instead of keys. She claimed she would change the combo when I left, but probably didn’t know how to do that. Waited until after the time she left. Drove past. No one home. Parked a block away, walked to front door, entered the code. Still works. Straight to her bedroom. Not padlocked anymore. Look, there’s my router and modem, right where they shouldn’t be because they’re in a bag outside my friend’s place. Weird. Grab my modem & router, grab my guitar, insert a spare old burned admin copy of Win'98 into her cdrom, boot to CD, set it to work formatting her hard drive. She can complete Win'98 installation later, complained about Vista anyway. Probably won’t be able to retrieve her “art” and homework.

Back in my car within 5 minutes, at my friend’s place 10 minutes later. Jill’s pottery class still had another hour. I texted, “finally found the modem, bag must’ve blown into the bushes! Thanks for dropping it off! :D” I love to imagine whatever flurry of emotions she must have experienced at that moment…

Called me in a frantic rage 30 minutes later. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!!!” “What?? Jill…What are you talking about?” “YOU BROKE INTO MY HOUSE AND STOLE FROM ME!!!” “Wait…someone broke into the house?? I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that… What did they take?” Her remarkable psychological gymnast skills. Walks right up to the ledge of almost admitting that she lied to me and stole my things (after-all, such an admission was required for her version of events to make any sense at all) and then psychologically-backflips away. She couldn’t do it. Her story was not compatible with reality. All she could muster was rage and empty threats and that phone call was the last time I ever heard from her. Honestly, at that point the stuff and the money involved was worth less to me than the fact that she had so much rage but couldn’t do anything about it. It brought me a little joy. The strangest part is that she never mentioned her computer at all…

` ° * ✧ ° RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS.

❛ Have you been playing with matches again? ❜
❛ Do have anymore of that one stuff? ❜
❛ So, where do we go from here? ❜
❛ What the hell is that thing? ❜
❛ You know, you aren’t supposed to be doing that. ❜
❛ I almost forgot you only come around when you need me. ❜
❛ Oh, yeah, you played me good, didn’t you? ❜
❛ I’m not joking with you this time. ❜
❛ Do you ever think about having kids? ❜
❛ I didn’t mean to punch you that hard. ❜
❛ Nice shiner there, buddy. ❜
❛ Great way to start the day. ❜
❛ I just want peace and quiet. ❜
❛ Please, just go away already, ugh. ❜
❛ I’m not giving you any money! ❜
❛ You don’t own me. ❜
❛ Tell me what to do or what to say. ❜
❛ I love my freedom. ❜
❛ Shut up before I break your arm. ❜
❛ Now, that looks like a grand adventure. ❜
❛ I’m taking you home, come on. ❜
❛ Jesus, are you really that drunk? ❜
❛ What did you take? How many you’d take? ❜
❛ That’s not an orange. It’s a lemon. ❜
❛ The wait is almost over. ❜
❛ So, when are we going to finally meet? ❜
❛ I would like to see you in person. ❜
❛ Are you online dating again? ❜
❛ I’m not sad, I’m just tired. ❜
❛ I want to take a nap so bad. ❜
❛ I thought we could just nap together. ❜
❛ Life can be messy. ❜
❛ I wish life could be mess free. ❜
❛ Are you high or just stupid? ❜
❛ You can be anything you set your mind to. ❜
❛ We are not going to be like them. ❜
❛ I just wanted to fit in, I don’t know. ❜
❛ Are you going to that party tonight? ❜
❛ I thought we’d be together forever. ❜
❛ I really liked you. My fault. ❜
❛ We don’t like surprises. ❜
❛ Please save the lecture for someone who gives a shit. ❜
❛ What the hell did you do? ❜
❛ Well, you poor thing. ❜
❛ I’m just saying, murder is an option. ❜
❛ We can always kill them, yeah? ❜
❛ What’s all this glitter for anyway? ❜
❛ Damn, you look like shit. Smell like it too. ❜
❛ It’s not too dark and not too light. ❜
❛ I wanted to know what you liked so I stalked you. ❜
❛ I didn’t stalk anyone for the last time already. ❜
❛ I’m not sorry and I have no regrets. ❜
❛ You are so fucked, you know that? ❜
❛ Hey, you stole that from me! Give it back! ❜
❛ Screw you. ❜
❛ Just fuck off already. ❜
❛ You look like a Simpson. ❜
❛ I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. ❜
❛ I’m not mean, I’m just honest. ❜
❛ I will stab you with my fingernail, try me. ❜
❛ Your wish is my command. ❜
❛ I would love to see you suffer. ❜
❛ I’m not in, no way. This is bad. ❜
❛ I don’t want to break any rules. ❜
❛ Fine then. Don’t call and don’t text me anymore. ❜
❛ I’m not mad at you, don’t worry. ❜
❛ Do not ever question my parenthood again. ❜
❛ I don’t have time for this. ❜
❛ Death is all around us. ❜
❛ You’re just like the girl from gone girl. ❜
❛ You left, not me. ❜
❛ I’m not the one that’s always leaving. ❜
❛ I can’t believe this is truly happening. ❜
❛ I was wondering, if you wanted to look at the stars with me? ❜
❛ I always wanted to go on a date. ❜
❛ I knew you were trouble when you walked in. ❜
❛ I had a feeling. ❜
❛ Wait, do you feel that? That vibe right now? ❜
❛ Where could the gem be? ❜
❛ Do I look like someone you should mess with? ❜
❛ It stinks it this place. Can’t believe you call it home. ❜
❛ Wow, this is your house? ❜
❛ I can’t believe you didn’t think to ask me first. ❜
❛ You have a lot to learn. ❜
❛ What do you take me for? ❜
❛ What do I have to do to get it from you? ❜
❛ Will you ever stop asking me that? ❜
❛ This place never ceases to amaze me. ❜
Rain (Stiles Stilinski)

Summary: a best friends to lovers fic based off the prompts, “we always share blankets on the couch, I’m sure sharing the bed for the night is fine too,” and, “your lips are getting really close to mine.”

Warnings: there’s a touch of swearing here and there!

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: clichés are a personal favourite. I hope you like this! :)

Originally posted by deathcabjenny

When you’d left to visit a newly opened diner with your best friend, Stiles, it wasn’t raining. In fact, the sky was such a clear amber colour that you were convinced you’d be able to see the stars when evening broke. By the time you were leaving the diner, however, you were shown to have made a grave assumption.

“It’s pouring, Stiles,” you said dryly, peering out the diner windows. Stiles was beside you, zipping up the front of his hoodie. 

“Well done for stating the obvious, Y/N,” Stiles teased, causing you to groan in frustration. You hadn’t had the sense to bring a hoodie; instead you were wearing a thin shirt and a pair of jeans. One look outside at the sheets of rain cascading from the sky was enough to make you regret your decision completely.

“We’ll need to run,” you murmured, wishing one of you had had the sense to bring a car.

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. “I’d rather not. The rain is fun, Y/N! Loosen up a little,” you gave him an unimpressed look, reaching out to push his shoulder playfully.

“That’s easy for you to say - you have a hood!” Stiles grinned at this, nodding gleefully as he flicked the hood over his head.

“We should leave, I think the waiter’s getting impatient,” Stiles said, gesturing to where your waiter was lingering beside a couple who were clearly after your booth.

Humming in agreement, you followed Stiles towards the bar where you’d been instructed to pay. “How much was it?” You queried, not remembering the sum printed on the receipt.

Stiles waved his hand, digging in his jeans for his wallet. He pulled it out a moment later, nimble fingers pulling out a few notes with a flourish. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay.” 

“Stiles-” you tried to interject, only to be on the receiving end from one of his infamous glares.

“Y/N, this was my idea! Let me pay for you. Please,” one glance at the earnest expression on your best friend’s face and you gave in, knowing his stubborn nature to be a force to be reckoned with.

“Fine,” you grumbled, waiting beside him as Stiles settled the tab.

Once the money was exchanged, Stiles linked your arms together and pulled you towards the door. You groaned, the icy rain outside looking the opposite of inviting. Stiles spoke up, giving your arm a squeeze, “we’ve got to face it eventually, may as well do it now. Besides, my house is only a five minute walk away.”

“Let’s do it,” you agreed, figuring it made more sense to get it over with.

To say the rain was heavy was an understatement: the moment you stepped outside, raindrops were splashing all over your body, coating you from head to toe. You shrieked, speeding up considerably. Still attached to Stiles, the both of you began to speed walk in the direction of his house, the rain making the journey slightly difficult.

By the time you stumbled into Stiles’ porch, you were completely soaked through.

Keep reading

Nude Part Two

It had been a week, a long week. Y/N was fired, the company did not want to be linked with the press that came with Y/N. She had been harassed, not just on social media, but the photographers were letting their hands wonder on her body, her dad could hardly look at her, her family wouldn’t talk to her. 

She wouldn’t get out of bed, she wouldn’t eat. She would just lay there, wrapped in the white sheets, dark circles under her eyes, her usual bright eyes were dull, no emotions, no feelings, she would just stare at the ceiling, or stare at Harry. 

He would bring food up to her, he would bring her water, snack, anything he could, but she refused them all. Occasionally she would drink and have a couple of chips, but it was rare, it hardly happened. He could hear her cries, he could feel her pain. 

“Thank you so much for understanding James,” Harry says into the phone, leaning against the door way, watching her. 

She was asleep, as usual, her eyes closed, lips parted as soft snores left her mouth, “I understand, we can find another week,” James says into the phone, “how is everything?”

“‘s not good,” Harry responds, “I offered to go to my mum’s, she could stay there for the week, and she said no, I just-I can’t leave her alone right now. It’s my fault.”

“You’re young, you’re doing what young people do,” James says, “sadly you just have the whole world watching you, watching her.”

“‘s not fair to her,” Harry frowned. 

“You’re right, and it’s not fair to you, but it happened, it’s done. Now you just have to work through it, together,” James says. 

She stirs in bed and Harry stands, “I’ll call you later, I’m so sorry.”

He hangs up, taking his spot next to her on the bed, and praying that she’ll wake up, that she’ll smile at him.


“Morning,” she croaks, sitting in bed, knees to her chest, Harry looks up from the door way, wrapping his towel around his waist. 

“Glad to see you awake,” he smiled softly, grabbing a shirt. 

She looks at the sheets in front of her, “it’s Gem’s birthday,” she whispered, “promised her I would go.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry says, “we don’t have to, she’ll understand.”

“I have to get out of this house at some point,” she says.

“My mum has been dying to see you,” Harry smiled. 

She just stands, walking to the closet, “if it gets too much we can leave,” Harry promises. 


Anne’s house is filled with family, Gemma’s work friends, and neighbors. Harry steps in first, he immediately feels her grip tighten on his hand, her other hand coming up to his arm as she holds on to him, hiding behind his tall and lanky frame. 

“Harry!” Anne smiled, walking over, “oh Y/N! I’ve missed you,” she wraps her arm around her, rubbing her back, she steps back, “how are you doing?”

“‘m fine,” she mumbles, Harry grabs her hand again, bringing it up to his lips. 

“She’s a though one,” Harry says. 

“Y/N! You came!” Gemma yells, walking over, “oh I’m so happy you came.”

“Happy birthday,” she responds. 

She keeps close to Harry all night, trying to not pay any mind to the others. They stand whispering and pointing, she even caught one person glancing between their phone and her, making sure it was the right person. 

She felt naked, she knew she was dressed. She could feel the long sleeved dress hugging her body, she could feel the fabric, but it didn’t matter. Every one saw the freckle on her stomach, the one on her right breast, they all knew about the stretch marks on her lower stomach, they had all seen her. They had all seen every inch of her. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” Harry says to her, “will you be okay?”

He tilts her chin up, concerned eyes on her, “yeah,” she nods, he presses a soft kiss on her lips and slips away. 

“Y/N right?” a man says, he stands in Harry’s old spot, “‘m Fred, I work with Gemma.”

“Nice to meet you,” she whispered. 

Fred steps closer, close enough she can smell the alcohol on his breath, “I’m Harry’s girlfriend.”

“I think you’re lovely,” he ignored her last remarks, placing a hand on her waist. 

“Please get off,” she says, her heart racing. 

His hand lowers to her butt, giving it a hard squeeze, she screeched. Shoving him off, or attempting but he doesn’t break, “get away from her,” Anne snaps, walking into the kitchen, “and get the hell out of my house.”

Fred steps back, holding his hands up, “Y/N, come here honey,” Anne says sharply. 

Y/N walks over, standing behind her, “get out of my house, now,” Anne repeats, voice low. 

“We were just talking Anne, come on we are all here for Gemma,” Fred chuckled, setting his cup down. 

“I don’t want you anywhere near my family, that includes Y/N,” Anne hissed. 

“Hey, she wanted it, those pictures were nice, I was just trying to compliment her,” Fred says. 

“Get the hell out! I will not ask you again,” Anne yelled. 

“Gemma don’t you want me here?” Fred asked, turning to the tall light haired girl who stumbled in, “right Gem.”

“He touched Y/N and if I have to ask again I will call the cops,” Anne sneered. 

“Get out!” Gemma snaps, “this is your last warning or I will get Harry.”

“She’s just a little slut anyways,” Fred spat, shoving past her, hitting Y/N’s shoulder. 

She stumbled but Anne grips on to her, helping her. Her once full of life eyes stay on where Fred had just walked out, Anne holds her, rubbing her arm, “don’t listen to him honey, please don’t listen to him,” Anne whispered in her ear. 

“What an asshole,” Gemma hissed, embracing Y/N. 

Gemma runs her hands through Y/N’s hair, “I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve that, you don’t deserve any of this,” she whispered. 

“I-I shouldn’t have taken them,” Y/N sobs. 

Gemma’s eyes snap up as someone walks in. Harry stands, his eyes softening at the sight, Gemma keeps Y/N in her arms, rubbing her back, “we love you Y/N and those pictures didn’t change anything,” Anne says softly, “you have us, you have Harry, you’re family, those pictures do not define you. Who ever stole them is a horrible person.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says. 

Y/N pulls away from Gemma, shaking her head, her hand reaching up to wipe the tears away, “it’s not your fault Harry, please stop blaming yourself,” Y/N pleads, “please.”

“It’s no ones fault,” Anne says. 

“I’m sorry about Fred,” Gemma says. 

“What happened?” Harry asked quickly. 

As Anne explains the story Y/N takes the time to slip away to the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. She fixes the smudged mascara, wiping it away with toilet paper. She takes in a deep breath, trying to relax. 

The door opens and Harry peaks in, a small smile on his face, “you’re moms kind of a badass, I’ve never seen her that angry,” she says, sniffling. 

“That’s cause no one messes with her family,” Harry chuckled, closing the door behind him, “how you holding up.”

“I’ll be okay,” she promises, wrapping her arms around him, “I have a lovely boyfriend and his family for support.”

“We are pretty cool,” Harry says, a proud smile on his face.

“I don’t blame you,” she says, “I promise.”

“We’ll get through this together, and you know what, Jack was a dumbass in firing you, you were the best worker,” Harry stated, “we can get you a new and much better job.”

“And anyone who thinks these pictures are an excuse to grab you are sick perverts and will have to go through me, we are a team Y/N. You get hurt, I get hurt, we will work through this together okay?” Harry’s hands come to her cheeks, cupping them. 

“Yeah,” she nods, “together.”

“Forever,” he mumbles, kissing her. 

“Forever and always.”

100 Kisses

Summary: You decide to give Bucky 100 kisses for his 100th birthday.

Word Count: 2,845

Warning: cursing

A/N: I’m sure in parts of the world Bucky’s birthday is long over, but it’s still March 10th where I live! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes!


9:15 am

Steve Rogers stared at you with wide blue eyes as you attempted to wolf down a bowl of cereal. There were many things out of place in this picture—for one thing, he couldn’t quite fathom how a person could so wildly eat cheerios, your spoon constantly clanging against the sides of the bowl.

For another thing, it was rare that you were up this early on a Friday, even if it was a special occasion. He glanced at the clock opposite him, noting that it was only fifteen past nine in the morning.

The super soldier opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped short at the abrupt sound of your chair scraping its legs against the floor. You shot out of your seat to drop your wares in the sink before floating across the table, depositing yourself in Bucky Barnes’ lap.

Bucky eyed you with a smirk, still chewing his breakfast while you placed your hands around his neck. You stared at him with doe eyes, batting your lashes heavily. “You need somethin’ darlin?” he questioned you, the tips of his lips curving into a smile despite the pointed look he was trying to give.

“Uhhhhh hurry up!” You bounced impatiently on his thigh, squirming around as you started to slip. “I’m only at twenty-seven!”

“Twenty-seven what?” For a quick moment, everything you could have possibly meant flashed into Steve’s mind, some of them not exactly what he wanted to think about over his first meal. With a quirked eyebrow he looked at the close couple, searching their faces for an explanation.

“I’m trying to mmm-” Your voice was cut off when your boyfriend shoved toast into your mouth, the jam smearing across your lips and making it sticky. Smugly, Bucky returned his attention to Steve, who watched on with a bewildered expression.

“She’s attempting to give me one hundred kisses today.” His voice was laced with mirth, a silly smile plastered onto his lips that juxtaposed his usual expression. Steve laughed, understanding your restless behavior.

“Did she give you ninety-nine last year?” Steve asked, very amused by the challenge, but also grateful. While your idea was strange, he found it sweet and affectionate; just the type of love Bucky needed after years of solitude.

“He hid his birthday from me last year, and now he has to pay for it!” you accused, poking your finger into his chest. “Besides, one hundred is a special milestone! Much more so than ninety-nine.”

“Most people don’t make it to ninety-nine,” Bucky pointed out, prodding your cheek with the end of his fork. You could see him fighting the urge to cave into your demands, hiding his grin with a cup of coffee. His eyes seemed to shimmer, much like they did when Steve brought him to the tower for the first time.

It felt like so many years ago that you’d met Bucky, a cautious, broken thing with eyes like glass. You didn’t think you’d ever get to see him so comfortable, so relaxed, so human. It made your heart swell, more so than the kisses ever could.

“Well then, even less people make it to one hundred. I’m glad you’re one of them,” your smile softened as you placed a kiss to his temple, his eyes closing in reverence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, placing his head against yours.

“I’m glad you’re here with me. You too, punk,” the brunette’s eyes picked up to Steve’s, narrowing playfully. “I see you over there.”

With a grin, Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Who me? I’m not doing a thing. Just watching my best friend be totally disgusting with his girlfriend.” He was shaking now, wiping a tear away from his eye as his laughter continued.

“I guess there’s some things one hundred years can’t change”


1:34 pm

“Fifty three…fifty four…fifty five…fifty six,” You were on a roll, having placing your lips back and forth against Bucky’s for a few solid minutes. You were getting fast, knowing that at some point he would grow impatient of sitting on the couch for such small pecks.

He hadn’t complained yet, a satisfied smile growing even wider as the other occupants of the room stared in horror while you repeatedly kissed Bucky, counting in between. Sam mimicked retching, his acting turning into an actual couching fit.

“Jesus Y/N, aren’t you tired? And I don’t just mean from having to look at Barnes in the first place.” His voice made you stop, turning to face the man with a weak glare. Wariness showed on your face, emphasized by your off-guard expression and swollen lips.

“Could you please be nice to him for like, one day out of the year? Actually two; Christmas is a good time to lay off him too.”

“Could you two maybe get a room? We’re trying to watch quality entertainment, not whatever gross thing you guys are doing,” Clint groaned, eyes still glued to the television. Tony and Sam agreed with a round of complaints, the entire room beginning to get rowdy.

“Why are we even watching this? It’s March Madness, turn on ESPN!”

“Um, the Joffrey Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliet and I’m missing it.”

“Would you guys mind if we put on Star Trek?”

“Fuck Next Generation, Brucey. Someone hand me the remote or put on How I Met Your Mother.”

All of a sudden the T.V went blank, the remote clanging to floor as you dropped it with your powers. The room was suddenly silent, no one daring to make a move as your eyes returned to normal.

“I was here first, and I say you’re all watching T.V. in another room,” Your voice became dangerously low, scarring the others to scamper out of their seats without any complaints. There were small apologies being thrown at you, mostly muttered from Clint and Tony. (“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t use your powers!”)

You smiled until a pair of lips were pressed firmly to yours, a much longer, heated kiss that stole your breath and your thoughts. Bucky had grabbed your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap once again.

“Sixty,” he reminded you, voice low as though he was sharing a secret. You blinked, forgetting what the numbers were for in the first place. He had that effect on you.

He smiled, a little embarrassed, but hugged you closer all the same. “I wanted to give you one. That was pretty hot.”  


6:28 pm

“What number are you guys on now?”

Natasha lazily swirled her spoon in her tea, head propped on her fist as she sent a smirk towards you and Bucky. By some miracle you weren’t completely smothering him, the two of you eating like normal people at the dinner table.

“Eighty-six. I’ve been spreading them out, he likes it better that way.” You beamed at him, unaware of his blushing state. Nat, however, noticed this right away, wiggling her brows to gain his attention.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing he likes spread out,” she winked, and immediately after Bucky placed his head in his hands. A chorus of feminine cackles erupted, making his face even hotter.

“Bucky, please,” you wheezed out, holding a hand to your stomach. You gave his back a little rub, coaxing him out of his flushed state. “What are you acting all shy about, baby?” you teased him, the two of you calling him “ladies man” and “lover boy”, harping back to the stories Steve used to tell about him.

Bucky slowly lifted his head, hands still covering his face. “You know, I thought today was going to be more embarrassing for you than for me. How could I be so wrong?”

You rolled your eyes as his antics, prying his hands away. “C’mon Buckaroo,” you joked, trying to use as many dumb nickname as you could to calm him down. “We’re only teasing.”

“Relentlessly,” he added, and you scoffed, placing your hands on your hips.

“You’re one to talk about relentless! Do you want a list of all the times you’ve taunted me! You did that to me this morning!” Bucky peeked at you through his fingers, catching the frown etched on your face. “It’s only fair!”

“Sorry, don’t recall,” he muttered, getting up from his seat and walking away from you. You sputtered, standing quickly and bumping your thighs against the table.

“Hey!” he was starting to run now, even with very limited space. His back was retreating faster down the elevator corridor, and you picked up speed, getting a running start off the ground before you flew towards him.

“I can fly faster than you can run, Barnes!” you called after him, eyes glowing as you shot forward. Bucky suddenly turned, arms wide open, ready to catch you with a solid stance. You tried to slow down, but you were hurdling toward him like a comet. The force of your collision sent him skidding backwards, his feet tripping over themselves to regain a sense of balance.

You ended up twirling like a top, his arms wrapped around you as you spun into the elevator. Your giggles turned into a hiccups, only to be silenced by a kiss. A deep and slow one, melding your mouths together and ultimately grounding you. Any dizziness that persisted afterwards was not from being spun, but rather from the kiss that had you seeing stars.

“Eighty-seven,” you counted proudly, without a single hiccup.


10:04 pm

Ten o’ clock wasn’t late by any means, but it had been a long day.

There had been something of a party in the common room since seven; a small gathering that consisted of the Avengers, and a few other agents Bucky knew well. Tony had promised it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t comfortable with, and that if he wanted the celebration over, he could have it.

Tony kept his word. Even though Bucky had been having fun, he realized that while he was busy catching up with Thor and Scott Lang, Y/N had hardly been by his side. Perhaps it was the suddenness of it all, but he felt immensely detached, gazing at her from across the room with longing looks.

You were quite adept at deciphering Bucky’s looks, even from far away. He’d given you this long stare, his baby blue hues so cloudy and dull, reason enough to saunter over to him and press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You okay?” you asked him, concerned that he wasn’t having fun. He didn’t seem to suggest the idea, but you could tell that something was bothering him. The first two times you did it, he shook his head and granted you a small smile.

The third time was different. By the third kiss you felt his restless energy, his hands cupping both your cheeks, seeking some sort of outlet. You held his hands, looking straight into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you paused, making sure he was hearing you. “Bucky are you alright?”

He was beginning to nod, his hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head, but his chin never came back up. “I’m fine, I just,” he sounded strained, his voice thick with some emotion you couldn’t quite place. “How many left?”

“Ten,” you told him, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his hands. “Just ten more.”

He licked his lips, grabbing onto your wrist loosely and pulling you away. “I want to go.” He was using short sentences, his speech rushed and shoulders tense.  Today had been long, and social events tended to tire him out quicker than anything else.

“Okay baby, you stay right there, I’ll tell Tony.” You gave him a smile that was forced, the façade vanishing when you turned away from it. You nearly jogged to reach Tony, explaining the situation as best you could, despite not understanding it yourself.

He was good about it. Tony didn’t make a scene, he just waved graciously with a small smile. Bucky returned it, and suddenly the whole room was raising a glass in his leave.

“Happy Birthday, Buck! Hope you had fun.” Steve’s strong voice was wistful, but his smile was not at all sad. Bucky gave a salute, relief seeping back into him as you two looped arms, turning your backs to the avengers.

“You sure you’re okay?” It was simply precautionary, your worry fading when he gave a genuine smile.

“I’m fine, doll face. Just wanted to cash in those last ten kisses in private.”


 11:15 pm

He was smooth, in almost everything he did. It was scary, sometimes, how he could surprise you like that. Bucky appeared so sharp, so bent and twisted sometimes that you were always taken aback by how careful and soft he treated you.

His hands slowly went up your side, bunching the soft cotton of your pajamas impatiently. When he detached himself, his burning blue eyes looked straight at you, lips parted but unmoving, the question unspoken between you two.

“Ninety-eight,” you replied, breathing heavily against his lips, your foreheads touching. He’d been playing this game since he’d gotten you alone, taking charge of the gift you were supposed to give him. He rolled his hips under yours, nails digging into your sides almost painfully as he angled his mouth down for another go.

Suddenly his pursed lips met the pads of your fingers. He blinked, watching as you sat back on your knees, taking his wrists into your hands.

“This is my gift. You can’t take control of it, that makes it yours.” You felt like you were pouting, crossing your arms to convey your annoyance, even it if was acute.

Bucky laughed until he realized you were serious. “What? Darling, come on,” he persuaded, lifting up your chin. “It is for me.”

“Yeah, but it’s, I’m,” you struggled to form your thought into a coherent statement, one that would make sense. “I’m giving you one hundred kisses, in my time. You can’t cash them all in like a rain check.”

That seemed to do the trick, your boyfriend leaning back on his elbows, looking at you with raised brows. “Well when you put it like that,” he drawled, and you used your strength to push him down onto his back.

“When I put it like that,” you mocked him, landing on your side next to him. You grazed your finger across his jaw, tracing the outline down his neck and collarbone. His skin was hot to the touch, but shivers wracked his spine when your nails scratched under his chin. He was eager, hands twitching to touch you. You laughed at his restraint, cupping your hands to his cheeks and giving him a soft, tender kiss that lasted but a minute.

You didn’t need to say it out loud; you both understand that this was the last of them, the final kiss to mark his birthday. He smiled as he shifted to mirror your body, arms snaking around your neck. He wanted so desperately to say something, but before he could even think about it, your lips placed a small peck to his.

“One hundred! Happy Birthday, Bucky!” you grinned sneakily, and he grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. You laughed at his expression, the fleeting anger that bubbling under his shock.

“What? That so does not count!” he yelled, feeling cheated. He pulled your wrists to bring your closer, so close that your chests touched and your eyes were solely focused on each other. You still stifled some giggles back, and Bucky finally sighed, resigned to the fact that, no matter how devious it was, you’d kept your promise.

“You’re forgetting something,” your chirpy voice reminded him, and he grumbled a quick response before you placed your hands on his chest. You captured his attention a mere moment before you captured his lips, this time in a kiss that mattered.

It started slow and hesitant, as though you were testing unsteady waters. Soon it became deeper, those hovering hands now fully immersed in his hair, tugging at the roots with just enough pull to spur him on further.

Bucky placed his hands on your hips, slowly sitting himself up, never breaking contact. He placed you back down onto the bed, his weight pressing against yours. Your resolve broke, that earlier statement off the table as Bucky guided you onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your head pressed into the mattress, your body sinking as your breath was stolen from you, Bucky’s chest flush against you.

When the need for air became too hard to ignore, Bucky pulled back, a questioning glance on his face. “Pretty sure I’m not one hundred and one,” he inquired, and you smiled.

“One for good luck.” Your answer made him break out into a grin, one so contagious you nearly forgot about everything else. He slowly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, a good and quick thing that conveyed everything it needed to.

“I don’t need luck when I’ve got you.”

Saw this au prompt part II

Nico sat on the chair, waiting for his father to say something. Aidon di Angelo stood facing the view outside of his office.

“Nicholas,” his father said.

“Nico,” he muttered uneasily, aggravated. He hated to come here. The last time he was here was when he came out to his parents, a week before his life was completely shattered.

Jules Albert stood to the back of the office, emotionless as a zombie, waiting for Nico to attempt to run. Which, in fact, he’d attempted to do once, but that’s another story for another time.

“Jules Albert tells me that you’re getting home late again, and he found a cigarette packet hidden inside your jacket pocket. Your school called yesterday, and it seems as though you’ve been skipping classes again. You are eighteen years old. When are you going to grow up, Nicholas?” his father asked calmly.

Nico internally winced. He needed to have another chat with Jules about his habits and privacy.

“What I do and do not do,” Nico said, icily, “is none of your business. You lost the right to tell me what to do the moment you stopped being a father. You work all the time, why do you suddenly care?! Hell, you’ve managed to replace the last living family member you have with a freaking company!” Nico yelled.

God above, it felt good to get this off his chest.

Aidon’s eyes softened, “Is that what you think I’m doing? Replacing you?”

Nico nodded stiffly, enjoying the sting of tears. He stood. He was going to leave, and Jules was not going to stop him.

Aidon quickly came across his desk and brought himself eye to eye with his son. They stared at each other for a moment. Adion gently dragged Nico into his arms, passing his hand re-assuringly through Nico’s hair.

His father’s voice broke as he whispered, “My boy, I would never do that to you. You are the most precious thing I have. You are, after your sister, the best thing Maria could have ever given to me.”

He pulled away, his dark eyes boring into Nico’s identical ones.

“And you’ve been so much happier and better with the blonde around. Why would you deprive yourself of that happiness?”
____

Nico’s week was sucking more balls than him.

On Monday, Percy Jackson, Nico’s ex, and a group of his friends who called themselves “The Seven” cornered Will. Nico caused a huge fight when he punched Jackson in the face after seeing the tears on Will’s face. The fight broke up when someone who Nico thought was Leo Valdez yelled, “Break it up, morons! Coach Hedge is coming!” Plus, Nico got a black eye when Michael, Will’s brother, punched him after school.

On Tuesday, he couldn’t go to school because his father was going on a two day trip to China and Nico had went along with Jules Albert to drop him off at the airport. Along the way, his phone vibrated with a text from none other than Will Solace, who said biology test on Thursday. We’re even, death boy. Will called Nico death boy in the early stages of their relationship, making fun of him and his lack of fashion, and how Nico constantly dressed in all black.

On Wednesday, Nico got detention for swearing in class. The reason was: he fell asleep and was having the routine nightmare when Hazel, the girl next to him suddenly woke him up because he’d been called on to answer a question. Which Will answered anyway.

On Thursday, Nico failed the biology test. Will was wearing a rainbow coloured “Out and Proud” t-shirt under a leather jacket, which surprised Nico, along with seven hundred other students. Will always had trouble accepting who he was, but here he was, laughing at something Chinese-Canadian Frank Zhang said. Nico clenched his fists, silently brooding, aching to pick a fight, cursing out Frank Zhang in his head.

On Friday, however, Nico’s luck turned. Their literature teacher, Mr. Brunner, had said, “Will, tell us the purpose of Caesar muttering Et tu, Brute in Shakespeare’s play Julius Caesar.”

Nico had never seen Will so disoriented in his life, which shocked him.

“I’m-I’m sorry?” Will said, his gaze unfocused.

“The meaning of the phrase, And you, Brutus,” Mr. Brunner pressed.

“I don’t know,” Will whispered, “I–”

People were starting to mutter. That’s when Nico decided to speak.

“Jesus,” he said, rolling his eyes, “the statement is used to express Caesar’s surprise and shock by someone who Caesar considered a friend. Brutus being the friend. Give Will a break, will ya, Mr. Brunner. Nerds are people too.”

The class laughed at that. Nico leaned back in his chair, a happy glint in his eye.

When the class was dismissed, Nico felt a sharp tug on his hoodie, and was dragged into an empty classroom.

“I owe you a thank you,” Will Solace grinned sheepishly.

Butterflies erupted in Nico’s stomach, “No thanks necessary, sunshine.”

Will’s eyes flickered to Nico’s lips before he pressed his gently against Nico’s.

“Thank you, anyways, death boy,” Will’s smile lit up the whole room, but not as bright as a genuine Will Solace smile.

“Will,” Nico frowned, “talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Nico suddenly remembered his mother’s funeral. Everyone was in black. The rain was pouring, thunder booming ahead. Maria di Angelo looked as if she was asleep. He’d buried his elder sister a year before and now he had to bury his mother, the glue that held his broken family together. He was on his knees, sobbing, not caring as the crowd dispersed to find shelter. His memories were dark for that day, but he clearly remembered Will. Will who knelt next to him in the pouring rain, holding him in his arms. Will, who kept whispering it’s okay, I’ve got you as Nico whimpered in broken Italian. Will who pressed his cold, shaking lips against his forehead to give him comfort in his dark times. Will, who caught a fever and was rushed to hospital but still made sure Nico was okay. Will, who comforted Nico over the phone when he had nightmares and cried for his mama. Will, who said nothing when Nico whimpered ti amo over and over, unsure himself whether he was talking to Will or his mother and sister.

“Nothing,” Will said, his eyes darting around the room.

“Don’t lie, Solace,” Nico pushed.

“I– my dad has another kid. A little girl named Kayla,” Will muttered, a tear falling from his eye, “Mom is….really upset and they’re getting worse and worse. And life’s been so much harder now that you’re not here with me.”

Will, the taller boy, let his head fall into Nico’s shoulder. Nico always had loved the height difference between them. Will was the taller one, and often used it to his advantage. Not that Nico ever complained.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Will?” Nico asked, stroking Will’s hair.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me. You just lost your mom…it’s unfair for me to involve you in my messed up life,” Will answered.

“So that’s why you’ve been pulling away,” Nico whispered, “Will, it’s my job as your boyfriend to worry about you! I love you, you idiot!”

“What?” Will whispered, “S-say that again.”

“I love you,” Nico kissed him, “I love you. Every inch, every part, everything that makes you Will Solace is a part of you that I love. I only broke up with you only because you were pulling away from me.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will said, and Nico felt hot tears seep into his Greenday hoodie he stole from Will, “I’m so sorry…give me another chance?”

“You don’t need to ask, Will,” Nico said, kissing his Will Solace gently, passionately on the lips, “It’s already yours.”

No one was really shocked to see Nico di Angelo and Will Solace back together. In any universe, they were meant to be.

No Regrets - Beautiful

This is not a request, just something I felt like writing. It does join with a drabble I am going to write for @ellen-reincarnated1967 @feelmyroarrrr @secretlyfurrydragon and @tas898 about how Becca handles having a little sister. This is more the adult side though. Becca’s will be written later.  

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Insecurities post birth, implied smut, talk about sex.

Word Count: 1100ish (I knooooow but I can’t drabble!)

A/N: I am just gonna keep drabbling for this guys till I feel my fire return. I still can’t seem to get any words out for anything else but this series. So sorry. But I hope you like it.

This is set a few months after Y/N had AJ so near the end of season 11 (spring 2016)

LIVING WITH REGRETS MASTERPOST

NO REGRETS MASTERPOST

The first few months of AJ’s life had not gone as smoothly as Jensen had hoped they would. Becca had been thrilled about getting a baby sister at first, right up until she realized how much of her parents time a baby stole from her. She had started acting up and denying spending time with Jensen when he offered.

It was different with Y/N. She sat around watching her with AJ and she still talked to her mom when asked. She was more quiet all in all but at least she didn’t run from the room when her mom picked up the baby like she did with Jensen.

Y/N had suggested they would all fly back to Austin for the weekend and that when Jensen had to return to set Becca would be the only one to go with him. Y/N was sure Becca was just scared of losing the Dad she had only just gained a few years ago. Y/N had always been around, Jensen hadn’t.

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change pt. 3 | pete dunne

Originally posted by cinciscrapper

pt. 1, pt. 2

A/N: The last part of this lil series! [’: Pete is so fun to write and I hope I wrote him well. 

Tag Friends: @heelturn-timesten, @crookedmoonsaultpunk, @lahey-trash, @xfirespritex, @blondekel77, @nickysmum1909 (I tagged the same people as last time!)

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Anything for You

Note: Day 2 of write-a-thon! It’s short and sweet. Enjoyyy.

Word Count: 851

Pairing: Jasmine x Reader

Warnings: being sick?

“No, Y/N. You can’t do the show tonight. You’re sick and you need to stay at home. I refuse to let you play like this.” Alex Lacamoire said sternly through the phone.

As much as you hated to admit it, you knew Alex was right. Your immune system had failed you and you’d come down with some sort of sickness over the past 24 hours and it escalated extremely quickly. Still, that didn’t keep you from wanting to go to work. You were in the pit orchestra as a violist; there was no way you were going to let a sickness get in the way of you doing the job you loved.

“I’m fine, Al–” you tried to counter, but were cut off by a fit of coughs.

“My point exactly. Stay home and rest, Y/N, please.” Alex said pleadingly.

“Alex is right, Y/N.” You heard your girlfriend Jasmine say in the call. “If you play like this without any rest, you’ll only get worse.”

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anonymous asked:

can u draw any Les Misérables? its okay if you cant!!!

ok , so i know pretty much nothing about  Les Misérables (im sure youve already guessed this from the terrible doodle). i watched like part of the movie once. something to do with the french revolution and like… some guy getting thrown in jail because he stole bread?? or something??

ZOMBIELAND SENTENCE STARTERS
  • Is that you say hello where you come from? 
  • Oh, my God. Oh, my God, I can’t believe I shot Bill Murray.
  • I don’t think we’re gonna be able to stitch this.
  • You think you might pull through?
  • Ah. That’s still tender.
  • If it means anything now, I am so sorry. It was just instinctive.
  • It was my bad. I was never a very good practical joker.
  • So do you have any regrets?
  • I’m not great at farewells, so, uh, that’ll do, pig.
  • That’s the worst goodbye I’ve ever heard, and you stole it from a movie.
  • Sno-Balls? Sno-Balls? Sno Balls? Where’s the fucking Twinkies?
  • I hate coconut. Not the taste, consistency.
  • Oh, this Twinkie thing, it ain’t over yet.
  • Don’t kill me with my own gun.
  • Time to nut up or shut up!
  • Are you fucking with me?
  • Uh, no. You should actually limber up as well. Especially if we’re going down that hill. It is very important.
  • I don’t believe in it. You ever see a lion limber up before it takes down a gazelle?
  • You are like a giant cock-blocking robot, like, developed in a secret fucking government lab.
  • No! Those bitches! No, I will not stand for this.
  • You see? You just can’t trust anyone. The first girl I let into my life and she tries to eat me.
  • Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.
  • I haven’t cried like that since “Titanic.”
  • Hey, wish granted. She’s spent the last twenty-four hours fucking us both.
  • Finally got to first base. Not bad for that scrawny little spit-fuck.
  • Yes! But no she’s not, she’s not. She’s only famous when she’s Hannah Montana. When she’s wearing the wig. So…
  • Oh, this is so exciting, you’re about to learn who you’re gonna call… it’s Ghostbusters.
  • See, I told you we should have gone to Russell Crowe’s! No one listens to me!
  • Where are you, you spongy, yellow, delicious bastards?
  • Have you never played the quiet game?
  • It’s amazing how quickly things can go from bad to total shit storm.
  • Are you one of these guys that tries to one-up everybody else’s story?
  • Here’s the deal: I’m not easy to get along with, and I’m sensing you’re a bit of a bitch.
  • My mama always told me someday I’d be good at something. Who’d a guessed that something’d be zombie-killing?
  • You almost knocked over your alcohol with your knife.
  • You know between you, me and “What About Bob?”… You’re actually kinda cute.
  • You can do anything you want to a man, but do not fuck with his Cadillac!
  • Hey, a little help with movin’ the couch. We’re makin’ a fort.
  • You have just survived the zombie apocalypse and drove half way across the country… where are you gonna go?
  • Fuck this clown.
  • Wow, these fellas really let themselves go.
  • Hey, this may be a bad time, but I gotta take the Browns to the Super Bowl.
  • Fasten your seat belts. This is going to be a bumpy ride.
  • Someone’s ear is in danger of having hair brushed over it…
Okay, I think I’ve resolved Cross and Ink’s Dreamswap backstory.

Cross’s world gets destroyed, Nightmare finds him through his misery. Chara tells Cross to use Nightmare so he can gain access to tons of AUs. Nightmare somehow learns about how Cross’s power works and gives him access to a bunch of AUs as a favor.

Nightmare says, do whatever you want. But don’t screw around with Justice Reigns. Aaaand Cross has no idea what that is, so Nightmare has to explain it to him. But Cross is still all bitter about XFrickster (Gaster) and the world getting screwed over and shenanigans, so Nightmare tells him he may want to change his outlook before he does something he regrets, then leaves Cross alone.

Kind of what this person suggested.

Chara would be telling Cross, “What are you doing? We need our own universe! We have to rebuild our world!” but Cross is putting it off for some reason. He spends enough time not listening to Chara, restraining him, wondering if fixing his world is even worth it…

Soon, he returns to what’s left of his world…

… and finds Ink there.

Ink doesn’t know how he got there. It was the first time he had ever transported through worlds and he can’t figure out how to do it again.

Chara’s saying to Cross, don’t even trust him. Who is that? He’s desperate to regain control, but Cross is keeping him back.

Ink and Cross become friends over time, and Cross learns that Ink never had a world. Cross almost felt like he wasn’t so lonely anymore. With his anger and desire for his own world fading away, he reduces Chara into a phantom state like in Underverse, much to the kid’s dismay.

As time passes, Ink tells Cross… these AUs. Why does everyone have an AU? Why doesn’t he? He wants his own world. A world to call his home.

“Cross, take me to your world.”

Cross hasn’t told Ink that the very space they’ve spent so much time together in… is that world.

“Ink…”

“… Do you know where we are…?”

“This is my world… well… what’s left of it…”

“… I see.”

He shows no sign of surprise at the reveal, no sign of empathy. Just disappointment.

I don’t have details about the rest of the story… Some way or another, Dream finds Ink, and things go downhill. Cross is left alone again, but Nightmare comes back and gives him a chance.

Waitwaitwait. I actually have an idea for how their friendship started.

I bet that Cross snuck into Dream’s castle to try and get Ink out, but at the same time, Nightmare was trying to escape from being captured. Security gets notified because Cross sucks at being sneaky, and this huge chaotic fiasco happens. Nightmare and Cross eventually run into each other while trying to avoid security while alarms are blaring in the background.

Nightmare: Wait, do I know you?
Cross: LET’S TALK LATER.
Nightmare: Not arguing.

You know what? It’s official. This happened.

Nightmare: Didn’t I tell you not to mess with Justice Reigns?!
Cross: You did! But they stole my friend!
Nightmare: You have friends?
Cross: Is that any of your fricking business?
Nightmare: Sorry. I habitually anger people. On purpose.
Nightmare: I’m actually not sorry.
Nightmare: You were kind of an edgy asshat when I met you.
Cross: I think you would understand if your world had just been destroyed.
Nightmare: Actually, I understand precisely that.
Cross:
Nightmare:
Cross: Dude, I’m sorry.
Nightmare: … (sigh)
Nightmare: … Me too.
Nightmare: Let’s get out of here.

I think a lot about the conversations I would want to have if I saw you again. I think a lot about the things I’d want to tell you.

I’d want to tell you that I miss you so much that it hurts sometimes. I’d want to tell you that I think about you most at night when no one but me can hear the way my breath shakes every time the thought hits that I’ve spent another day without you. Sometimes I think I’m just lonely and sometimes I want to scream because I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way that I loved you. Sometimes I’m not sure I want to.

I’d want to tell you that I’m sorry that we made so many promises to each other in the light when we never knew if we could make it through the dark. I guess we couldn’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry everything fell apart and I’m sorry that it blindsided me so much that I couldn’t see the idea of us lasting but God, I was so scared. You were everything to me and I didn’t know how to handle loving someone so much that every morning felt like a sigh of relief from the loneliness the days used to be. I really tried to give you the world, but it turns out I didn’t even have any skies to give after you stole my heart. Turns out I didn’t even need to give you anything spinning on an axis, because she gave you a whole universe.

I was so sure that you were mine, so sure that I had you and that it was stuck in the concrete and flattened to the permanence of the sidewalk. I was so sure that I never even considered how wrapped around you I was, or how easily you had me sitting in your palm. It never occurred to me that you’d need somebody else’s love, because I was so sure mine was enough to fill the weight of my heart against your sleeve.

I think a lot about the things I’d tell you if I saw you now, but I don’t think I’d get a word in edge wise over the sound of my heart cracking all over again. I’ve never been good at letting go of things, but I swear it would’ve been easier to rip my own heart out than see you love her the way I loved you.

—  Some things you can’t say to anyone but your bedroom ceiling
TalesFromTheFrontDesk: Complaints, complaints :)

Three different complaints I got this morning:

NUMBER1) A woman approached the desk asking for more eggs at breakfast. (Last night we were sold out) Woman: Hey you guys are out of eggs and sausages, do you know if any are ready?

Me: Oh, I’m sorry I’m not sure. There are two ladies working breakfast, and… oh! It looks like she just brought out some more eggs I think :)

Woman: Well I just don’t understand how you didn’t know that without looking over there.

Me: Um….. well, I am working the desk and the breakfast ladies are covering the breakfast area so I generally don’t know much about what they have available in the kitchen unless I’m back there.

Woman: Well, that’s my question. Why aren’t you back there?

Me: Well I am the front desk agent so I actually have to stay up here, I’ve got a lot of work to do and I’m not technically supposed to leave my desk.

Woman: Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not even doing anything anyways, you’re just STANDING there. Stomps off

NUMBER2) Old man approaches: OM: Do you have an iPhone charger?

Me: Oh, sorry I don’t have one to lend out. Did you lose yours?

OM: Yes I lost my charger a few months ago when I stayed here.

Me: Oh, I’m really sorry sir. I just don’t have any to lend out.

OM: Well I’m sure you have a million in the back room where all the lost and found is. Me: Actually, I doubt we do unfortunately… and even if we did I can’t give out lost and found items that aren’t your own.

OM: looks at me expectantly

Me: ……

OM: So what are you going to do then?

Me: …. Um, I’m not sure I can do anything. There is a store across the street that sells chargers I believe that you cou-

OM: YOU STOLE a charger from me when I stayed here last. The least you can do is check for another charger to compensate me.

Me: Sorry sir, there’s nothing I can do except direct you to the store….

NUMBER3) Lady comes up with a big smile and kind of bouncing around Lady: Hey there!! Good morning!

Me: Good morning! How can I help you?

Lady: I’m just wondering if I can talk to a manager.

Me: Oh, I’m sorry she’s not in today! Maybe I can help?

Lady: Yeah totally! I just wanted you to tell her that the turn lane out on the highway is pretty narrow, it was really scary to sit there and wait to turn into your hotel…

Me: (um oookay…) Yes I can definitely let her know.

Lady: I mean, I’m wondering if she can get back to me on how soon you guys will be painting it?

Me: (what..? you think hotels repaint highways) Um, I mean you can leave me your info and I will give it to her and let her know you want a call back!

Lady: Yeah let’s do that! I just can’t stay here again because of how scary that turn lane is :/

SIGH

EDITS:Formatting EDIT2: UPDATE Old man wanting a charger has come down FOUR times asking if we can lend him a charger that someone else has left. He reeeeally needs a charger. DUDE just go to the gas station and get a 5 dollar one. It might not last you forever but come ON man

By: juliaakatrinaa0507

undertalemttfangirl  asked:

And when Sammy sacrifices the cookies, Bendy sees it and is like "OH A COOKIE! I'LL KEEP IT FOR LATER!" but when Bendy comes again to get the cookie, it's gone(Because Sammy ate it) and it repeats several times untill Bendy found out that Sammy ate the cookies every time XD Could you write an ending to this? It can be any style, short or long :)

(2/2)

Bendy: “So let me get this straight”

Sammy: *tied down* “Hmhm!”

Bendy: “You tried to sacrifice some cookies for me…”

Sammy: “Hime sho-y! (Im sorry!)”

Bendy: “you take the liberty to take some..”

Sammy: “pleeeeeeesh!”

Bendy: “For yourself?”

Sammy: “… mhmm”

Bendy: “Now, you see? I’m just going to HAVE to punish you now, Sammy~”

Sammy: “NYOOoOoO!”

Bendy: “Shhhhhhh. It’ll all be over soon.”

Sammy: *loud sweating*

Bendy: *Runs off with arms flailing* “HENRY, SAMMY STOLE ALL MY COOKIES!!!!”

Sammy: “NYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

And he was never heard from again.

(I wanted to stuff him in the ink machine, but im not sure if that would have work)

The Immortals- Part 18- Find You Again

Hi, hello, bonjour :)

Words: 4834

This is a “re-writing” of Imagine Meeting the Originals.

Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

I don’t know why this was so hard to write. I am not happy with it and I don’t know when I’ll post the next part. I’m very busy and in a lot of stress so I guess it’s just harder to write right now. I still hope you’ll like it. Don’t hesitate to let me know :)

My inbox is open if you have any question.

@ladytevans07

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Originally posted by twinflames1864

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Foul Ball (Part 3 of Curve Ball)

Originally posted by darlingiamobsessed

Summary: Derek Hale college AU; Reader and Stiles become close friends, and the reader gets some interesting news.

Author’s Note: Yaaaaaay! The next part is FINALLY here! This was a ton of fun to write, so I hope you all like it! The next part will hopefully come a bit quicker!

As always, thanks to @snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales for beta-ing this, and for all the wonderful input and suggestions! Basically the whole movie section was written by her since I was having some writer’s block, so tell her how much you enjoy it as well! c;

Warnings: Just some language

*******************************************************************************************

“You’re going out tonight, right?” I asked Lydia, plopping down on my bed. She was busy inspecting the clothes in her closet as she answered, tossing a few things onto her bed.

“Yes,” she said, voice soft as she concentrated on her fashion choices. “I don’t plan to be back until probably Sunday. Aiden and I are hanging out.”

“For three straight days?” My tone came out as more shocked than I meant it to be,  maybe even a bit naive, earning a half-hearted glare.

“He says he wants to spend time with me and work on our relationship,” she defended, drawing out word as if it tasted bitter on her tongue, a hint of sarcasm laced somewhere underneath, poking the metaphorical elephant in the room. I was only half-listening now, pulling up tabs on my laptop and keeping an eye on my phone.

“So, you’re going to have sex all weekend,” I deadpanned, my voice a monotone of stating the obvious. Lydia turned to me and offered a wicked grin, making me laugh. “Just be careful.”

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Oh, a friend is coming over. We’re gonna binge watch Star Wars and probably eat lots of popcorn,” I explained, eyes scanning over the syllabus I had pulled up on my computer screen for one of my classes.

“Have fun with that,” she mumbled in reply, making me grin. Oh, the joy of being a nerd. Lydia left about an hour later, receiving a text from Aiden saying he was there to pick her up and whisk her away for their weekend long ‘important relationship building bonding alone time’, and, let’s face it, a very… eventful evening. I waited until she was out the door before scrambling for my phone to text Stiles and let him know he could come over any time.

Me: Time for a marathon, I hear it is. Ready and waiting, I will be. Get your ass over here, you should.

Me: Sorry. Yoda stole my phone, the little green bastard. Anyway.

Me: My roommate left so come over any time. :)

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