their hands are dead center of this thing

A Bit Of Both (Gaston x Reader)

Part 5 (epilogue) of “Another Look Around”

Originally posted by evansluke

Word Count: 2,825

Warnings: If Gaston being flirty counts as one, then there’s that…

Tags: @mmegaston @lovelylpevensie @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @lj-laufeypevensieweasley @juggernaut-jones @timeskipeleven @cherrrylimes @ciaprincess @thesizeofabarge @thewhisperingfox

A/N: yeh, it took a while longer than the previous parts, but yo, I finally finished it. Thanks so much for all the reads, likes, reblogs, and the AMAZING comments, lil chickadees!!!

For several moments, you tried to ignore the prodding on your arm. It was early after all, and yesterday had been a particularly exhausting day. But after half a minute of the timid motion, you finally shifted, stretching out your legs and arms and with a groan.

You felt soft breath fanning across your face as a small voice asked, “Are you awake?”

You cracked your eyes open, a smile spreading over your lips. “Well, I am now,” you answered quietly, your voice raspy from sleep. As you spoke, you moved your hand and poked the side of the little girl laying opposite you. She squealed and swatted away your hand, smiling widely.

“James was snoring again,” the dark-haired girl said accusingly. “You can hear it from all the way down the hall. He woke me up.”

“Did he?” You responded, gently stroking a few stray strands of hair from her eyes. “Well, we’ll have to speak with him about that when he wakes up, won’t we?”

The child, Rosemarie, nodded, a mischievous expression on her delicate features which coaxed a snicker from you. You brushed your thumb across her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her forehead before asking, “Ready to get up?”

Rosemarie nodded again, swiftly shimmying her little body from under the covers and slipping off the bed. Her curly, deep brown hair bounced around her waist as she scurried from the room, her bare feet filling the silent morning with a pattering sound.

You grinned widely after her, sighing as you hauled yourself into a sitting position and raked your hands through your hair. The morning was pale and just beginning, and through the window across from the bed, you could see a thick mist hanging above the ground as the sky turned pallid blue. The house was warm, but outside the cool whispers of fall were beginning to fill the land.

You briefly glanced at the empty space beside you, noting the absence of your husband from his usual position before tossing the covers off your legs and rising from the mattress. You quickly pulled a blue skirt and vest on over your white underdress, then joined Rosemarie in the large kitchen, the floorboards cold under your feet. When you arrived, you found her sitting with boy who was slightly older than her, but who had the exact same chestnut waves atop his head.

“Ah, well if it isn’t the culprit himself,” you teased, ruffling James’ hair as you passed him. He gave you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t help it,” he said simply. “It’s Rosemarie’s fault for being a light sleeper.”

Rosemarie gasped, “Is not. I can’t help that either.”

“Well if we’re being specific, I made both of you, so I suppose it’s my fault,” you said, grinning at the way that James scrunched his nose in disgust – reminding you so much of his father – while Rosemarie sat there blankly. “I don’t understand,” she confessed. You laughed lightly, moving to fill a large kettle with water to boil for tea. “Trust me, Rosie,” James answered. “you don’t want to understand.”

The pot was on the stove and Rosemarie was halfway done braiding James’ hair when the youngest of your children finally emerged from the bedroom that the boys shared, looking hardly awake.

Gabriel was the only one who’d inherited your hair color instead of his father’s, and incidentally he was also what James liked to call a “mama’s boy”. It was true. Gabriel was almost always stuck to one of your legs, no matter what time of day. It was of course something he would eventually grow out of, but until then, you relished every instant that the stunning little boy spent at your heels, asking to be held or reaching his small fingers up to wrap around your thumb.

At two years old, Gabriel’s speech was still rocky, but he remained silent as he crossed the room straight to you, holding his arms out. You smiled and acquiesced, hoisting him into your arms and resting him on your hip. Rosemarie was next in the age line at four, followed by James and his twin sister at six.

It suddenly dawned on you, just as Rosemarie and James began bickering over Rosie’s decision to put flowers in his hair, that your other daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait a minute,” you muttered, looking from Gabriel, to the other two. “There are supposed to be four of you. Rosie, where’s Adeline?”

“Outside with Papa,” she answered before engaging James once again in debate. The corner of your mouth turned up. “When is she not?” You commented, kissing Gabriel’s cheek quickly before moving him to sit in one of the chairs at the table. “Mama will be right back, alright?” You told him, tapping his nose with your finger. He yawned in response. “Good. James.”

The boy froze as he was about to smack Rosemarie’s arm with a nearby spoon. He blinked and you raised an eyebrow. “Can you keep an eye on Gabriel for a few minutes?”

He smiled appealingly, dropping the spoon onto the table and making a knightly vow to protect his younger brother with his life. You winked at him and moved towards the door as Rosie asked, “Oooh, if you’re a knight, then does that make me a princess?”

“Of course not, Rose. Mama’s the princess. You can be the dragon.”

You ignored the sounds of Rosemarie’s indignant protests, knowing that James could handle the younger children until you returned. You exited the house, leaving the door open and stepping out into the chilled morning air.

Your rustic home sat upon several acres of lush forest green, and practically perched on top of a mountain. From the front yard, it was possible to look down and see Villeneuve spread out below. The area was secluded, but not difficult to find. A small stream ran behind the house, and the surrounding forests wrapped around all sides except the front, which looked out over the lands beneath. It was picturesque to say the least.

The dewy grass felt divine between your toes as you walked slowly to where two figures stood out in the fog. You stepped carefully, not wanting to alert either one to your presence just yet.

The young girl stood, her brown eyes blazing with concentration as she held a small bow in her hands, the string drawn to her cheek and the knocked arrow aimed at the trunk of a gnarled old oak tree. Her stance was solid and professional for someone so small, better than that of most fully grown hunters.

The man on his knee beside her had his back slightly turned to you, one of his large hands resting gingerly on the girl’s side. He was talking quietly, and after every sentence, the girl adjusted something in her position, lowering her elbow or altering her aim.

After a minute or so of this, the girl finally pulled back. You saw her shoulders rise as she took a deep breath, then fall as she exhaled. Next thing, she released the bowstring, and the arrow went whizzing from the weapon, spiraling straight into the center of the dead oak.

She shrieked joyously, and deep, rough laughter that sent shivers trembling down your spine joined in with the child’s giggles. She threw her arms around her instructor’s neck, nearly knocking him backwards, causing him to shift towards you in order to keep his balance.

There was a smile on your face as Gaston’s dancing eyes caught yours.

When Adeline pulled back from her father, she too caught sight of you, instantly running forward exclaiming, “Mama, did you see? I hit it!” You dropped to your knees just in time to catch her in a tight embrace. “I saw!” You answered. Then you pulled her back and said, “Keep shooting like that, and you’ll be rivaling your father in no time.”

“Now that I would like to see,” Gaston shot back, striding towards the two of you. You raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly smirk, to which Adeline sniggered again.

“Papa says that he taught you how to shoot too,” she said, lacing her fingers through yours as you stood. “That he did,” you replied, keeping your eyes on Gaston. “I don’t think he ever thought that one day I’d turn out to be better than him.”

Gaston narrowed his eyes as the corner of his mouth tilted up. “In your dreams, perhaps,” he taunted.

“Ooooh,” Adeline gasped, gazing up at the two of you. You squeezed her hand, then her face lit up as she declared excitedly, “I’ve got to show James and Rosemarie!”

Gaston chuckled as his daughter spun on her heel and bolted towards the house, snaking an arm around your back as the two of you watched her go. You in turn moved closer and turned to face him, sliding your hands around his torso and resting them on his sides.

“How long have the two of you been at it?” You asked him, glancing down at the bow in his other hand. “Not long,” he murmured, shifting his full attention to you. “That was her first shot.”

You nodded, unable to keep the smile off your lips as you gazed up, examining his features in the pale blue light. After six years of being together, it still astonished you how ridiculously handsome he was.

On this particular morning, Gaston’s hair wasn’t pulled back as usual, but rather left unattended in all of its thick, wavy glory. Despite a few additional wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, mouth and forehead and the occasional grey streak to his hair, he hadn’t changed at all in terms of appearance. He was still every bit as muscled, and he still stood nearly a full head taller than you.

“You’re staring…” He pointed out cockily, pressing his forehead against yours. You grinned, using your grip on his midsection to pull him against you. “So are you,” you countered, causing a husky chuckle to emanate from his chest. His hands rose to your face, the contrast of his calloused fingers on your smooth skin making you shudder. “Is it not common for a man to stare at the most beautiful thing in sight?”

You laughed, making him smile wider. If there was one thing the years definitely hadn’t taken from him it was his inhumanly perfect charm. To this day he could still send your heart pounding effortlessly.

Without hesitation he pulled your lips to his, eyes closing blissfully as he kissed you for the first time that day. There was a chorus of squeals from the house, and realizing that the children – none of which necessarily appreciated the frequent displays of affection between you and Gaston – were on their way out, you started to pull away, but then stopped with a shrill gasp as he caught your lower lip between his teeth. You brought a hand up to smack his chest. He laughed smugly, pulling back just as Adeline returned with her siblings behind her.

You opened your eyes as Gaston pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, winking roguishly before moving back and heading towards the kids. You lingered behind a moment, feeling dizzy and light, taking a few seconds to regain your composure. It was only when James ran up to complain about being hungry that you truly snapped out of it.

After Adeline had showed her brothers and sister her archery skills, you gathered them inside and set to work immediately.

Gaston stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a smile on his face as he looked on. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. You still baffled him with your elegance and poise. He watched as you somehow managed to keep your head cool amidst a wave of chaos – “No, Rose, we can’t have pastries for breakfast. James put that down before you poke someone’s eye out. Adeline, keep the shooting outside, please. Gabriel, what on earth is on your face?” – and the way you moved around the room with fluent grace. Every gesture was effortless, and merely watching you interacting with your sons and daughters, even in the mundane, every-day manner was enough to make his heart swell.

To him, you were the embodiment of perfection, a gorgeous sort of mystery that never ceased to amaze him. You were his and only his, and though he may have been reluctant to admit it out loud, he couldn’t deny the way he was wrapped around your finger as well.

After breakfast had been eaten and each of the children had gotten themselves dressed, you assisted the girls while Gaston helped the boys to get ready for the day they were meant to spend in town with your parents.

Gaston corralled the boys into the hallway, telling James for the fifth time that he couldn’t bring the dead bird that he’d found in the yard that morning with him. No doubt it was the work of the family cat, Rufus, but the concept that it might be disturbing to some of the villagers to see a young boy skipping around town with a deceased bluejay in his hands couldn’t seem to get through his son’s head. James gave him a sulky look before stomping into the kitchen.

“Dramatic,” Gaston muttered, shaking his head. Without missing a beat, you leaned out of the girls’ room, saying, “Mmm, I wonder where on earth he gets that from.”

Gaston didn’t get a chance to respond as Adeline shot past you into the kitchen, then proclaimed excitedly, “They’re here!”

You simpered at Gaston teasingly, while he stepped towards you, leaning down to your ear and practically growling, “You will be the death of me, woman.” You only smiled as his hand traced up your spine, but then let out a bark of laughter as he squeezed your side, making you double over.

Rosemarie appeared from the bedroom and gave Gaston a reprimanding look, silently commanding him to stop tickling you, to which he obeyed. You straightened your back and subtly kicked his leg, trying to look cross and failing utterly as he gave you a dashing grin. You shook your head, wrapping an arm around his waist and walking onto the porch with Rose.

Gabriel and Adeline were already climbing onto your parents wagon when Rosemarie bolted forward, barely giving your father any time to catch her before she flung herself into his arms.

Your mother made her way towards you with a wide smile, placing her arm on your shoulder and looking between you and Gaston.

“I’m not sure how the two of you do it,” she admitted, making you laugh as you glanced at the children. “To be honest, Mama, we aren’t either.” You kissed her cheek before adding, “I hope you can handle them for the day.”

At this your mother made a face. “Now, now, (Y/N), one day is perfectly manageable.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. Your mother raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I am, I raised you. I’m prepared for anything.”

“Mama!” You exclaimed, Gaston and your mother sharing a laugh. You rolled your eyes and linked your arm with hers, the three of you strolling to the wagon where your father had just finished situating James, Gabriel, Adeline and Rosemarie.

“Well,” your father said, embracing you fondly. “I suppose we’d better be off. Ready, darling?”

Your mother nodded, giving you one last hug while Gaston and your father shook hands.

“And remember,” you said as your parents mounted the wagon. “If at any time you lose track of Rosemarie, you’ll almost definitely find her at Père Robert’s.”

“Don’t worry!” Your mother scolded. “We’ll be perfectly fine.”

You didn’t argue, but secretly you knew that by the end of the day, your parents would undoubtedly be pleasantly exhausted.

Each of the children waved wildly as they set off, trying to be the one who yelled their goodbye the loudest. You smiled and waved back as they disappeared from sight, their voices growing smaller and smaller.

“My parents have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into,” you joked, placing your hands over Gaston’s as his arms encircled your waist. “Mmm,” he hummed, his chest vibrating against your back. “They’ve done it before, they can do it again.”

“I guess so,” you sighed as Gaston grazed his lips across your neck, making goosebumps bloom on your skin. “You know what this means,” he asked, his voice an octave lower than usual. “What?” You whispered, your eyelids fluttering as the scruff around his mouth scratched your skin. “For the first time in weeks, I have you all to myself.”

You managed a flustered laugh. “Should I be scared or excited, Monsieur Gaston?”

His arms tightened around you and he placed a kiss beneath your ear. “Maybe a bit of both…”

anonymous asked:

❤ Reactions from the S,M and T brothers if their S.O. gave them a bouquet of flowers? ❤

I’m not dead I swear nvn. Sorry this took so long babe.


Shu - “What are these? Quiet down I know they’re flowers…” He may seem like you’re bothering him with such useless things and interrupting his sleep, especially when he hands them back to you and orders you to put them in a vase, but that’s just Shu… he cares and appreciates them!… We think.

Reiji - “Well you do have a very nice taste in decor. Though these leaves are starting to wilt I’m sure I could fix that.” He fills a vase and they go right in the center of the table so he can admire them while you two eat dinner, even if he is nitpicky he still loves the thought that you gave them to him.

Ayato - “Uhh thanks, but you know something that Your’s Truly really wants?” Of course, it’s your blood. He may play around like that but he is really touched that you thought about him and will find a proper vase for them.

Kanato - Honestly he may be a little lost with his words because to be completely honest he’d rather you had brought him something sweet after all flowers die so easily at least candy has more… uses. (ノ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ*:・゚✧

Laito - “Oh Little Bitch these are very pretty, maybe we could spread them on the bed~” If you were to agree he’d decline and keep them in a vase, you did go out of your way to pick them out just for him after all~ He’ll save that idea for a later date.

Subaru - Subaru.exe has stopped responding would you like to restart this program again? He’s at a total loss for words, through blushes and stutters you’ll get a thank you but other than that he’s hit the road jack. You’ll see him admiring them before placing them in a vase, so he can’t damage them.


Ruki - “Hmm these are rather nice Livestock, I suppose you have learned something.” He seems rather pleased with them actually, or more so pleased with the quality of them. They’ll be set in a vase in the dining room as the centerpiece that night for sure.

Kou - “Aw did my Kitten get these for me? Well, now I have to give you something back right?” Say yes… Just, please say yes.

Yuma - “Hey, Sow, where’d you get these? They better not have come from the garden… A shop? But I grow them?… A gift? Uh thanks…” After the questionnaire, he’d plant a kiss on top of your head and put them in a vase.

Azusa - “Ohh… these are really… pretty just like… Eve.” Did he just turn this back on you? Yes, he did… smooooth.

Tsukinami (they don’t get no love):

Carla - “These are very nice but you do know that I have no need for such things when you’re around.” How he manages to be this smooth is unfathomable but he does.

Shin - “What? Why would I want these, especially from you?” Rest assured when you are out of sight he’s blushing so hard. You may just find them in a very special vase in a very special place where he can see them whenever he wants… but he’s not gonna tell you that.

anonymous asked:

Regulus and Luna

This turned out a bit longer than I expected… 

“That’s odd.” 

The words came to him as if heard from the other end of a long tunnel. Regulus coughed and heaved as water spilled past his lips and onto the carpet under him. Each cough scraped against his already raw throat and his hands clenched at the fabric weakly and he could feel the stone that lay beneath. He was half blinded as tears crowded his eyes. He caught a blur of movement from the corner of his eyes and suddenly his lungs felt as if they were on fire. The water he had been drowning in seared out of him. It was over as quickly as it had come and he collapsed on the floor, panting with his eye shut, trying to clear them. 

“I’d offer you some water, but…” A soft voice above him said and Regulus felt his chest move in a silent laugh. “Can you sit up?” they asked before taking one of his hands in their own and pulling. 

Regulus used his free hand to push himself up and opened his still blurry eyes. In front of him a pale blue, vaguely human, shape floated in a golden cloud. He blinked rapidly to clear them and slowly a young woman appeared. Her pale blonde hair still seemed to be floating around her in a mess of partial curls, her blue eyes were starting at him, full of concern. “Thank you.” He rasped out and pressed one hand to his aching throat. 

She smiled at him and bit one side of her bottom lip. “You’re welcome.” She twisted the ball of one foot on the carpet, making it bunch, “I didn’t expect you to be so wet. Were you wet before I summoned you?” 

Regulus shuddered as memories of cold, dead, hands pulling him under the surface of that dark lake filled his mind. A small warm hand rested on his cheek and pulled him out of his reverie. “I’m sorry.” She said, her eyes moving back and forth, searching his own. “I can see terrible things moving inside your eyes.” Her breathe was cool and sweet smelling as it fanned against his face. Her thumbed swiped just under his eyes and Regulus realized he’d been crying. 

“I was drowning.” He told her, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

She leaned forward and softly kissed the center of his forehead. Regulus sucked in a shaky breath as the memories that threatened to wash over him again, slowly faded, pushed to the back of his mind. In awe, he wrapped one hand around her arm, “Who are you?” 

She gave him that soft smile again. “I’m Luna. Luna Lovegood. Who are you?” 

“Regulus.” He said with an answering smile, “Regulus Black.” 

In Plentea of Time [ML Ficlet]

@kasumiafkgod @keaoriginalart @fynneyseas @sockdilemma

“Hi, welcome to Lucky Cat Tea!”

Marinette freezes in her spot behind the counter. Busy replenishing the tins of loose leaf tea for the more popular brews, she hadn’t heard the delicate chime at the front door. She turns in slow-motion to the shop floor, watching as the new customer starts chatting with the blond standing by the shelves. She hadn’t heard the front door chime, which means it’s too late-

“Oh, I have no uncertainteas about finding the right blend for you.”

It’s too late, and Adrien has taken center stage.

The customer, a woman around forty or so, giggles behind her hand and bats her eyelashes at him. Gross.

And it’s not like Marinette can blame her, really: the only thing Adrien has more of than looks is charm, and both are abundant. When the bright-eyed boy with a voice that toed the line between silk and sin had clocked in on the first day, Marinette herself had experienced a good swoon. She’d even made the mistake of mentioning her handsome new co-worker to Alya, resulting in a one-woman warpath dead set on getting the two of them together. Normally, Marinette would appreciate the enthusiasm, were it not for the one glaring, unfortunate, and utterly unavoidable problem:

“Well, I’ll leaf you to browse the rest of our selection,” Adrien says. The grin is quick to his lips, lips that would otherwise be very kissable were they not the purveyors of such unholy atrocities.

Given the way he swings that grin to light on her the moment that the customer looks away, Marinette is sure he’s doing it on purpose.

Keep reading

Among The Carnage *SMUT*

Originally posted by cocovnla

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Note/Summery: I just wanted to hop on to the whole sexy battlefield smut that has been floating around. So, that’s what you’re getting. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write this, I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my health the passed few weeks, but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut, blood and gore.

Keep reading


Summary: The one where Cheryl interrupts B&V in a bathroom stall

Word Count: 1,078

Rating: PG-13 (smutty but nothing extremely explicit…)

A/N: anon request! changed it up a bit though.


The door to the bathroom crashed open. Veronica’s head popped in and within seconds, Betty was being pulled into the bathroom along with her. “Betty shut the door.” Veronica asked, and without so much as a sound Betty did as she was instructed. “Do you seriously think we have time before first period?” Betty muttered while Veronica checked under the stalls. “We’ll make time.” The pair had practically claimed the Riverdale bathrooms as theirs. Whenever people saw them disappear into one together they knew to stay clear. This one in particular smelled faintly of cinnamon rolls and hand sanitizer. Both girls didn’t mind, just glad it didn’t smell like pee. If they had the choice they would have used the handicapped stall, simply because it gave them more room to work with. The hand rails were an added bonus. A big white sign was plastered over the handicapped stall door, ‘out of order.’ Betty huffed, “Figures we pick the bathroom with the out of order stall.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

The blonde was caught off guard when she was pulled into the stall next to it and pressed up against the, now closed, door. “Whoa there tiger.” Betty purred when she felt Veronica’s lips against her neck. Soft plump lips searched for any piece of exposed skin on her body. Veronica knew just the places to kiss her to make her knees weak. Veronica’s fingers ran through Betty’s hair seamlessly, loosening her ponytail as she pressed her lips against hers. Betty made a mental note to readjust her ponytail after this, she was not too keen on the idea of getting weird looks from her teachers. Her ponytail was always pristine, just how the blonde wanted it, a reflection of herself. All those thoughts of perfection flew right out of the window whenever Veronica and her were alone. Veronica always tasted slightly of mint, such a familiar taste by now. Betty kissed her deeper. Now it was Veronica nearly falling into the toilet, Betty all over her. “Goddamn it Elizabeth Cooper” the girl cursed. Fuck you Betty, she thought to herself. Fuck you for looking like that, for touching me like this. Veronica bit down hard on her lip to stifle a moan, but it slipped out anyways. Her moan only served to boost Betty’s confidence. Veronica liked to be on top, she wasn’t the submissive type, but she let Betty take control in this very heated moment.

The height difference was more obvious each time they found themselves in these high school bathrooms. Betty kissed over the exposed bit of Veronica’s neck, just as Veronica had done to her only moments before. Betty earned another moan from Veronica, louder than the previous. The blonde’s soft lips traveled over Veronica’s neck, tilting it to the side so she could gain even more access. Take control of me, Veronica thought to herself. Betty dominating her was sexier than she ever thought it could be. Maybe, just maybe, Veronica would be the submissive more often.  Betty’s hands palmed Veronica’s breasts through her checkered J. Crew dress. No doubt there would be a hand print on this dress that no amount of dry cleaning and pressing would be able to get rid of. Betty was just so…aggressive…sometimes. Veronica shrugged off the thought, the dress wasn’t all that important. If it had somehow ended up on the disgusting bathroom floor, she wouldn’t mind much at all. Everything Betty did was flowing right through her bones like pure ecstasy. When Veronica felt her lace panties pushed to the side and two of Betty’s slender fingers enter her, the feeling of ecstasy shot through the roof. Veronica’s breath hitched, “Betty…” she huffed, another loud moan filling the silent air around them. Veronica kissed over Betty’s face, trying to show her some sort of gratitude. Betty was awfully quiet, and Veronica was the one being so damn loud. “V, quiet.” Betty mumbled against the girls’ desperate red tainted lips, her lipstick partially worn off from kissing Betty’s face. Betty kissed Veronica, to shut her up. As much as she loved the moaning, desperate, wet, submissive Veronica, Betty wasn’t too fond of getting caught in this bathroom fingering her girlfriend.

“Who knew you were so loud, V.” Betty laughed. Veronica attempted to challenge Betty but failed horribly when another one of Betty’s fingers slipped into her. “Fuc-” Veronica nearly shouted, being cut off once again by Betty’s lips. The damn handle to flush the toilet was digging into Veronica’s back even more so than before. She struggled to relieve the stabbing feeling in her back. The pain was relieved by Betty, who pulled her off the handle only to push her harder against the wall. Veronica laughed, “Just when I thought you might let up.” Betty shook her head, “When have you ever known me to let up when I’m three fingers deep in you?” A raised eyebrow countered Veronica.

A loud slam came from outside the stall, “Fuck.” Betty whispered, her fingers leaving Veronica feeling empty once again. A soft whimper followed. Soon came a knock on the stall door, Cheryl’s usual bitchy tone broke the silence, “What the hell are you sluts doing in there?!” Betty rolled her eyes, sensing that Veronica did too. Just like Cheryl to come and ruin their fun. Veronica grabbed Betty’s wrist, giving her the usual eyes she gave the blonde whenever she was going to take care of things. Betty, astonishingly, shook Veronica’s hand off and slammed the stall door open, coming face to face with a shocked Cheryl. Betty’s face was covered in red lipstick, her body standing dead center between Veronica’s spread legs. Veronica was surprised at Betty’s behavior, a soft blush appearing on her face when Cheryl looked at her.

“Care to join?” The usually shy, non-confrontational Betty snapped at Cheryl. Cheryl looked her up and down, eyes still wide, grabbing the stall door and closing it behind her. “I’ll leave you two alone…” Her voice was shaky. She certainly hadn’t expected to encounter that. Everyone had suspected that Betty and Veronica were fucking in the school bathrooms, among other places, but no one had ever caught them in the act. As soon as Cheryl left the bathroom, the girls burst out in a fit of laughter. “Think she was turned on by us?” Betty asked, helping Veronica up off of the toilet. Veronica nodded her head fervently, “Who wouldn’t be? We’re hot.”

cheryl in ‘the sweet hereafter:’

okay i know no one cares but like

just saying

that was lowkey an awful way to handle cheryl’s suicide attempt? like actually really fucking bad???

like a) call the fucking cops or whatever, call 911 and tell them you think someone’s in danger of killing themselves, give a tip to a suicide prevention line, don’t just charge off ALONE to where you think the person might be 

b) don’t break ur hand breaking ice. like that whole river thing could have gotten way bad……. like what if the ice cracked too much and all five of you got swept up by the ice-cold current? all FIVE of y’all fuckers would be DEAD, ALL of you, so that’s why that’s a terrible idea

c) i love ronnie to pieces but also? ya girl Cheryl didn’t have a bad day sis she tried to kill herself. you guys need to get her to a hospital crisis center? a therapist? something other than spiked hot coco in ronnie’s living room??

d) don’t leave someone who you know is suicidal alone? while you guys go to a party and fuck??? like talk about irresponsible. even if you didn’t want to miss the party……. like, fuck, I don’t know, find a caring and responsible adult to stay with her, or you know, skip the party and be there for her? or get her a counselor or something in a hospital? not just “bye cheryl we’re going to the jubilee there’s more hot coco in the microwave, see ya later”

like what kind of fuckery

I mean we know cheryl’s mom couldn’t care less about her, but as her friends……. people who do care about her at least a little…. like this was The WorstTM reaction possible to this whole thing

Caught Part One

A/N: This is my first Peter Parker fic! Yes it is based off of Tom Hollands Spiderman because I think he did amazing (and also he’s kind of adorable). Please give me feedback so I know how I did! 

(I also know I promised The Soldiers Toy when I came back from hiatus but I just couldn’t write it the way I wanted it to be)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1216

Category: ANGST, so much angst

Warnings: pregnant reader, barely, but I’ll still put it, Peter Parker feels, Peters POV, Cliffhanger ending, 

Summary: You are kidnapped by the Vulture. 

Your name: submit What is this?

Peter skids to a halt inside the abandoned warehouse, eyes searching frantically for any sign of movement. He had received a strange message from you earlier. Meet me here, I have good news followed by an address. Google maps told him it was an abandoned warehouse, which made him a little nervous. He keeps looking around the room, waiting for you to jump out and make some joke about how stupid his face looks right now.

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If It's Meant To Be It Will Be [Anthony Ramos x Reader]


The author asked that they remain anonymous, and I’m respecting their wishes, but feel free to show them your love with this fic by liking and reblogging bc this is seriously so adorable.

- If formatting is weird, feel free to change some stuff around. Could I stay anonymous as well?? I’m not really confident in this and nervous since I’ve never put anything up here before. Also if you don’t really like it or don’t want to post it, I completely understand! Thank you :) -

It took approximately 25 minutes after entering the club for you to lock eyes with him and approximately 5 seconds of locked gazes for him to stalk towards you through the dancing crowds.

“Hi” the boy said with a smirk, “I’m-”

“No names.” You cut him off before he could spoil this for you. “If you want tonight to work, I have one condition- I don’t want to know your name and you don’t want to know mine.” You continued and stood there staring him directly into his eyes, taking notice of the seemingly infinite amount of freckles that adorned his face.

He stood there for a minute, smirk completely dissipated while he processed the offer you threw at him. After hesitating, his mouth twitched up at the corners and took a look at your lips that were painted a blood red.

“Wanna dance?” He asked and with that, you grabbed his hand and made your way to the dead center of the club.


Out of breath, the two of you leaned back in bed, entangling the sheets around you to cover up your bare, sweating bodies.

The sounds of panting eased and you felt his eyes on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice surprisingly small broke through silent air.

“As long as it isn’t my name, you can ask me anything.” You responded stealing a sideways glance at the boy to see him staring directly at you.

“What’s the deal with the name thing? Do you just like mystery?” He inquired not once looking away.

You sighed and shifted a little in the bed, fixating your eyes on the ceiling, absentmindedly taking in the details.

“There’s less of a chance of attachment if we know each other’s names.” You started knowing he’d have follow up inquiries. “You can’t think back to that time you had a thing with someone named so-and-so, they’re just a face to you. They can’t mess with you or fail you if you don’t even know their name and form an attachment. No disappointment if there was no strong bond in the first place.” You finished, still staring at the ceiling and grasping the sheets to your chest.

“So you don’t want any attachments to anyone?” He pushed on and you turned your head to the left and looked at him, shaking your head.

“No, I’m not saying no to wanting attachment or a relationship. I just am trying to limit getting my hopes up that someone is the one or something special when they just weren’t meant to be. You could say I’m trying to let fate take hold. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be in the end.” You turned your head back to the ceiling and awaited his response.

You felt his head shift as he turned to examine the ceiling with you.

“I can’t not call you anything.“ He stated and let out a breath. “So I’m calling you ‘Red’ since your lips are the first thing I noticed about you.” He finally spoke out and you let out a small laugh.”

“Alright, freckles.” You responded giving him his title.

“So, I can ask anything? Just not your name?” He questioned, giving you a sideways glance.

You nodded your head turning to smile at him. His mouth turned up into a huge grin and with that, the night had truly begun.


“This is the most important question in the world! It says a lot about a person in whether they prefer pancakes or waffles!” You shout at the boy who was leaned up against the headboard. You had shifted awhile ago to sitting cross-legged facing him when you reached onto the bedside table for the nearest article of clothing which happened to be his blue shirt.

He threw his arms up - “Alright, fine! Waffles!” He laughed out and looked at you expectantly. You slowly nodded your head at him, approving of his answer.

“Good choice. But french toast wins everything.” You answered and smiled.

He shook his head and laughed at you. “Favorite color?”

“Blue. But 75% of my wardrobe is black so take that as you will.” You responded shifting your body to lay your head down as it started to feel like it had weighed 5x more than it usually does.

“Favorite place to go and unwind?” You asked while shutting your eyes, taking a break from the small light in the room emitting off the bedside lamp.

“Home- Puerto Rico. I like the beach a lot and it’s a break from the non-stop go of New York.” You hummed a response signaling your acknowledgement of his answer and awaiting his next question.

“How many people have you done this with?” He quizzed while also shifting his body to lay down.

You let out a sigh “You’re the first.” You opened your eyes and stared into his in which you couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind them.

“I haven’t lied to you tonight nor do I have a reason to.” You followed up and shifted again to get more comfortable and shut your eyes another time.

“Coffee or tea?” You breathed out as your consciousness was slowly slipping away. You heard him talking, but only registered it as mumbles before you were completely gone.


The sun blared through the apartment windows, causing your eyelids to squeeze shut in an attempt to protect your eyes from the harsh light.

You had ended up curled on your side facing the freckled boy while he lay sprawled out on his stomach.

You smiled at him and looked around as you realized this was your best chance to get out with the least temptation of breaking your pact you made with yourself - don’t form an intentional attachment with this boy.

You crept out of the bed successfully and attempted to get dressed as quietly as you could. You folded his blue shirt that you had borrowed and placed it on the bedside table and went to grab your purse to head out when you heard shifting on the bed.

You smiled as his eyes fluttered open and his face twisted in the confusion of just waking up.

“You’re serious about this name thing aren’t you?” He inquired with a hint of disappointment laced in his voice.

You softly nodded. “Give it a chance. If you’re meant to be with someone, your paths are destined to cross multiple times. Try believing in signs.” You mused and gave a small smile.

“I hope I cross your path again, Red.” He stated, digging the side of his face deeper into his pillow.

You only nodded and reached for the door handle, leaving his apartment and forcing yourself to not take notice of his address to erase any possibility of you returning here for any reason other than chance.



You stood in line at the store, items lined up on the conveyer belt. You were absentmindedly staring at the stand of magazines by the check out when you heard a familiar voice nearby.

You looked up and around, scanning to find someone familiar in the other check-out stations. Your eyes locked on a boy with curly hair wearing a red flannel. Your eyes stayed glued to the back of his head as he finished up paying and turned around to leave the store.

He glanced around and when his eyes met yours, his mouth slowly turned up into a wide grin.

He waited while you finished paying for your items and you walked over to him by the door.

“Hey, Red.” He said, shifting his body to lean against the wall.

“Freckles.” You smiled back, mimicking his body language.

“So, it looks like we meet again.” He pointed out. You knew what he was inferring, but shook your head.

“I’m going to need a little bit more evidence than meeting at the only Target within a 10 block radius..” You laughed out and adjusted the bags in your hand.

He laughed and straightened up properly. “What?! This is totally paths crossing! This is a sign!” He mused as you slowly walked past him and turned around, but kept stalking out backwards.

“If it’s meant to be Freckles, it’ll happen again!” You quickly spun around and walked out, smiling to yourself as you walked to your car.



You groaned as you realized you were running later than you thought to your job. Things weren’t going well at work and it was to the point where you dreaded getting up in the morning because of it.

As you were trying to leave the small café a few blocks down from your office, you ran directly into the back of the person in front of you, spilling some of your coffee in the process.

“Shit! I am so so sorry, I didn’t get coffee on you did-” You stopped mid-sentence when you looked up to see a boy with a head full of curls and when he turned around, a face full of freckles.

Your mouth twitched up when you saw the boy grinning down at you.

“Freckles.” You stated, shaking your head.

“I don’t think you got coffee on me, but you may have bruised my shoulder.” He laughed out and you cracked an even bigger smile.

“I’m sorry. Something you didn’t learn that night is how clumsy I am.” You said while straightening your work clothes and trying to hide your blush.

“Alright, this is a small café far enough from where we met that you have to take a train. This has to be a sign - can I please have your name now?” He pleaded and you slowly shook your head.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out, but then gave a soft smile. “Just wait. If-”

“It’s meant to be, it will be.” He finished for you and looked down at his shoes.

You leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing him to look up into your eye.

“I hope I see you around, Freckles.” You whispered and side-stepped by him and continued walking to work.

“Please be him.” You whispered to yourself and continued on with your day.



You nervously fidgeted with your blazer, anxious to meet your new co-workers. You had dressed up, not really sure about the type of environment working for a broadway company would entail.

You had left your old job when you were recruited by the manager of a theatre on broadway, The Richard Rodgers Theatre. At the time, the show Hamiltonresided there and looked like it had no means of going away with all the popularity it had generated. The theatre was benefiting immensely from the show and you weren’t quite sure why they needed you when business was so good, but you took the offer to help finance the theatre when it gave you the opportunity to leave your old job.

“Ms. (Y/LN), this is Lin-Manuel Miranda, the creator of Hamilton.” Your new boss introduced the two of you and you shook his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, the success of the show is incredible.” You commented and he laughed.

“Thank you! I wasn’t really sure what to expect when creating the show, but the response is amazing.” You smiled as he continued on.

“The cast hasn’t started arriving for tonight’s show yet, do you want a look around?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.

Lin took you throughout the theatre from the view of the audience vs. the view on stage to all the passageways backstage.

You were walking down the hall listening to his story about the cast’s work in adapting to performing on broadway, when a voice snapped your attention away from him.

“Red?” The boy with curly hair and an infinite amount of freckles stood down the hallway looking at you questioningly.

You laughed lightly while shaking your head, fixing your gaze for a moment on the wall next to you, only to return your gaze back ahead of you and the boy still standing there.

“Freckles.” You breathed out, disbelief heavily present in your voice. He smugly smiled and before he could say anything, you began to walk towards him.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/LN).” You extended your hand out to the boy, grinning madly.

His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning as he shook your hand.

“Anthony Ramos.”  

Panic! At the Disco's Brendon Urie Joins 'Kinky Boots' Cast

Panic! At the Disco’s Brendon Urie will take on the lead role in the Broadway production of Cyndi Lauper’s musical, Kinky Boots, according to The Hollywood Reporter.

Urie will play Charlie Price, the protagonist who inherits his father’s failing shoe factory and partners with a drag queen named Lola (played by J. Harrison Ghee) to produce a line of high-heeled boots that help save the company. The musician will make his debut at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre May 26th and will perform through August 6th.

The gig marks Urie’s first major acting role, though Panic! At the Disco’s music and live show have always been imbued with plenty of theatricality. In a video posted to Twitter, Urie said, “This has been on my bucket list for the longest time and it really is a dream come true. I’m just so incredibly excited to be joining Kinky Boots on Broadway – that’s wild. Plus you guys get to see me in those heels now.”

Kinky Boots is based on the 2005 British movie of the same name and debuted on Broadway in 2013. Lauper penned the music and the lyrics, while Broadway vet Harvey Fierstein wrote the book. The production won six Tony Awards, including Best Musical and Best Original Score for Lauper.

Panic! At the Disco released their most recent record, Death of a Bachelor, in 2016. The group has a handful of live dates left on their current tour, which wraps April 15th at the BB&T Center in Sunrise, Florida.

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The Brotherhood of the time traveling daughters.

Paraphrased request: Kix, Echo, Fives, Rex, and Hardcase, have a daughter they don’t know about visit them from the future. Said daughter is a total badass for the rebellion. 

A little background so this isn’t completely confusing: The daughters are the children of {insert above clone here} and undisclosed females that the clones haven’t met yet. This is written in 3rd person because I want to, do with that what you will. 

Forewarning: this is gonna suck but please still read. 

Not many things distracted clones from their work during a battle, but a glowing blue portal in the middle of the sky above the battle field was one of the few. It even confused the droids (not that it took much) enough to create a cease-fire. The clones didn’t stop firing until the generals held up a fist, signaling to halt. A few moments later, the portal spit out a small space craft before closing as quickly as it opened. 

Said space craft had seen better days: it was flaming as it streaked over their heads, pieces were falling off of it causing troopers to dodge the debris (the cherry on top was that several droids were flattened by falling refuse), and everyone on the battlefield could here the sirens and alarms as it flew (or rather: fell) past them.

With the excitement out of sight, the jedi generals used the droids’ distraction to resume fire on the stationary enemies.  By the time the tinnies got back into the swing of things, they didn’t stand a chance- winning a swift victory for the republic. 

After the battle, in the debriefing room Rex was feeling anxious. He stood beside Commander Cody with his hands clamped behind his back listening to the Anakin and Obi Wan discuss how to go about the mysterious crash. Well, Rex was half listening, he was internally wondering why he felt so drawn to this carrier and why he was fighting every instinct to not just walk out of the debrief to find these people. 

“Rex, you feel anxious. What do you have to say about this?” Obi-Wan mused in his usual stance, an arm holding up his other arm while stroking his beard. The clone captain snapped a helmeted head towards the older Jedi. He took a moment to formulate his words so he didn’t come off as defective. (He really doubted a clone saying “I feel completely drawn to these people and am bursting at the seams to make sure that they’re not dead please let me go” would convince them).

“I feel that no matter their means of arrival, not only did they minimize casualties and expenditures but they also were obviously in trouble. Therefore, utilizing the utmost caution, it is our duty  as extensions of the Republic, to offer a helping hand.” Rex answered as formally as possible. 

“Well said. Rex, Cody: Get them men ready to move. Tell Kix and Coric to bring a lot of extra medical supplies.” Anakin decided.

“Yes, sir.” The two clones echoed before walking out. Once secluded from the jedi, Rex looked to Cody.

“I’ve got an strange feeling about this.” 

During the debriefing, Fives and Echo tried to relax by sitting on some cargo crates outside a gunship, but they both shared that same feeling of anxiety that Rex had. Both fidgeting, they kept glancing at the smoking sight of the wreckage. 

“I wonder if whoever was on that rig is okay now.” Fives wondered aloud. Echo glanced from his arc-trooper brother back to the distant smoke. “I don’t know why, but it’s bothering me.”

“Same, brother, but don’t say those things, it makes me even more antsy.” Echo  replied, wiping a hand over his face. 

“I’m sure the generals will wanna check it out. A lot of the boys wanna thank whoever they are for saving our arses.” Fives continued. 

Across the campground, Kix was trying not to let his mind wander to the crash as he patched up Hardcase. It didn’t work, not that Hardcase was paying attention. His mind was with the shipwreck too. 

“Kriff, Kix, take it easy, brother.” Hardcase hissed, trying not to flinch away from the medic as he was brought out of his reverie. 

“Sorry, brother, just lost in my thoughts.” Kix apologized as he unwrapped the too-tight bandage from the other clone’s torso before rewrapping a tad looser. Once he was finished, Hardcase turned to face the medic. 

“Not to pry, but are you thinking that wrecked ship?” Hardcase whispered, as if it was shameful, looking past Kix to the distant smoke rising above the planet’s dense tree tops. 

“Yeah, I’m worried about whoever it is. I’m actually afraid that they’re dead. I want to double time it there and help them.”  Kix admitted, glancing from the wreckage back to Hardcase.

“I was feeling the exact same thing. Is this what Jedi feel like?” Hardcase mused, slipping his armor back on.

After calling all the men to center camp, Rex and Cody made the announcement. 

“Men, we’re heading east towards the wreckage. As extensions of the Republic,  we’re offering the survivors a helpful hand, but be on guard. Just because we’re good men, doesn’t mean they automatically will be.” the 212th commander announced before motioning to Rex. 

“We’re going off the ‘good people until proven otherwise’ sentiment. Medics, bring as much medical supplies as we can manage while traveling- we don’t know how many people could be on that craft. We leave in half an hour.” Rex finished. “Meet at the edge of camp in thirty minutes. Dismissed.”

With that announcement, Kix, Hardcase, Fives, and Echo all slumped slightly with relief. As expected, thirty minutes later, they were all impatiently waiting for the rest of the company to arrive and depart. 

It took an hour and a half walking to reach the wreckage, and the aforementioned troopers really wanted to speed up the pace, but kept their mouthes shut. 

Finally, they arrived at the smoking pile of what was once a ship. The generals told Rex and Cody to assemble a team to explore the wrecked ship in search for survivors. Cody, promptly left it up to Rex after seeing how anxious the 501st captain was. Fives, Echo, Kix, and Hardcase were the chosen team as the fates would have it. 

Inside the ship, it was a mess. Loose wires popped electricity and spit sparks periodically.  Pieces of metal had been torn like sheets of paper, leaving parts jutting out in sharp angles. 

“Watch your step boys.” Rex warned twisting his hip away from a particularly sharp piece. Beside him, Cody looked at his holo-pad. 

“Tech says there’s lifeforms, but somethings puttin’ the single on the fritz. Can’t tell how many.” The canary-painted commander announced, smacking the holo-pad against his thigh as if his aggression would correct the signal output. 

“Is there anyone there? Please, help us!” A voice cried, it seemed to come through the wall to the troopers left. 

“Survivors!” was chorused around the group before Rex took charge, “Can you hear us? We’re here to help.”

“We can here you! All of our exits are blocked and we don’t have anything to blow a new exit.” The voice, slightly muffled by the wall, chimed back.

“Give us a minute, we’ll figure something out.” Fives stepped forward to reassure. The captain nodded before turning to Hardcase.

“Hardcase, I know you have some kind of explosives on you.” He stated as if fact.

“Enough to make an entrance, definitely.” Hardcase affirmed, slipping the backpack off his back. 

“Ok, you and whoever is with you back away from this wall and take cover.” Echo called as Fives, Rex, and Hardcase set the bombs. Cody took scans to determine the craft’s stability, while Kix stood by with Medical supplies at the ready. 

“Ok, miss, are you ready?” Rex called through the wall. 

“Just blow this popsicle stand!” Another voice screamed with a hint of mischief, Hardcase chuckled. Fives glanced to him.

“Remind you of anyone?” The arc trooper laughed as all the soldiers took cover. 

“Ok, girls, take cover.” Rex called one last time before vaulting over the crates they were using as cover. 

“On my mark.” Cody called. “One, Two, NOW.”

With that, Hardcase showed no resignation to blow the door like a can opener. Smoke poured out of the newly revealed room. A few moments later three figures stumbled out. One was helping the second walk, with the second one’s arm arm over the first’s neck, while the first supported the second with an arm around the waist- half dragging her to safety. The other used her arms to try to clear out the smoke. 

“That was awesome!” One of them cheered. Once again all the troopers glanced to Hardcase, “Couldn’t have done it better myself!”

“Hush.” Said another, the one supporting the third, “Thank you very much.”

Once the smoke cleared, they could finally take in their survivors appearance and were shocked to find they shared a resemblance with the clones themselves. 

The first one looked to be the one in charge. Dressed in light armor assembled over a blue tunic and black sturdy pants with quite a few pockets, the pants were tucked into a pair of combat boots. Two dual pistols, much like Rex’s, were holstered in shoulder holsters. Rex couldn’t tell if her hair was naturally that gold color or if was dyed- or maybe it was the just the light. Her skin tone was close to that of the clones and she had one hazel eye like him. Her other eye was a crystalline blue. 

The second girl was slumped against the blonde. She also shared the same skin tone, and also shared the black hair. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly a medic. No armor, but a medic symbol patch sewn to the shoulder of her tan blouse. The blouse was under a vest and tucked into army green pants which led to brown sturdy boots. When her head lolled to the side, it was noticed the part of her hair was shaved with a pattern that could’t be made out for all the smoke and ash. 

The third, looked eerily like the clones: same golden skin, hazel eyes, black hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail. She was wearing a tank top, cargo pants, and boots. The tank top did nothing to hide tattoos snaking around her arms that unnervingly resembled Hardcase’s. 

The blonde one spoke up, “Thank you, we would’ve been dead without you. I’m Alinova (A/N: pronounced alley-uh-nova). Pyro here is Zara.”

The newly dubbed ‘Zara’ gave a bright smile and little wave, before Alinova resumed, “And our medic here, is Jessie, we call her Jess.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure ma’am.” Rex replied warily as Alinova stuck her hand out to shake. When the long sleeve of her shirt tugged up, Rex caught sight of a jaig eye tattoo on her wrist. This only troubled him more, nevertheless, he still took the offered hand. “We have a medic who can treat your friend.”

“Thank the Force.” She breathed, letting Kix slowly ease her friend to the floor. While Kix did his thing, the two other girls conversed with Rex and Cody.

“We still have two other crew members. We can’t leave until we find them or they’re proved dead. We understand if you can’t help with that, but” 

“No man left behind.” All four people chorused. 

“We’ll stay with you until the end.” Rex promised, and felt very proud when the blonde offered his a relieved smile.

“Thank you.”

Meanwhile, with Kix, he checked the girl for any sign of further injury. Trying to ignore the since of familiarity and worry. He checked for concussion and was relieved to not find one. The he set to work wiping the soot off her face. Then he could tell the pattern inscribed into the shaved part of her head was identical to his. He gasped. 

“Kix, what is it?” Fives asked, getting up from where he was. 

“Look where her hair is shaved. Look familiar?” Kix asked, glancing up at the arc-trooper and then to Echo who had joined. 

“Yeah, it looks exactly like yours… odd.” Echo concluded. Kix thought for a second. 

“Ok, this is impossible but it’ll put me at ease.” He murmured to himself before pricking the unconscious girl’s finger. Apparently the sharp momentary pain was enough to jolt her awake. Luckily, Kix was able to smear some blood on the medical holo-scanner before returning his attention to his patient. 

“Who the hell are you? Where the hell are my friends? More importantly, why the hell did you stab my finger?!” She shrieked, bringing the other two girls’ attention. Both rushed to their friend.

“Jess, it’s ok. These men saved us!” Alinova soothed, urging her to sit back down. 

“Men, take off your helmets, to put the lady at ease.” Cody ordered. One by one, the clones shed their helmet to offer the women their eyes. Then four  things happened at once.

“Shit.” Alinova deadpanned, looking at Rex.

“Rad.” Zara cheered to Hardcase.

“Kriff.” Jessie whispered looking at Kix’s haircut. 

“DNA analysis complete. DNA half clone - half Nabooian.” 

“Surprise, Buir*.” Alinova concluded, meeting Rex’s eyes. 

After a few hours, the jedi commed to tell them that they left a few troopers outside the craft, but the rest of the company headed back to main camp, Cody decided it was best to leave with them. Shortly after, the other two showed up, sharing heavy resemblance with Zara. The one with the 5555 tattoo on her wrist was obviously Fives’. While the girl with a hand print on the breast plate of her armor definitely was Echo’s.

“Leena.” the one who claimed to be Fives’ daughter offered, awkwardly smiling to her father.

“Saryn.” Echo’s apparent child revealed. Both arc troopers’ children, were dressed similar to Alinova. 

Leena had chest armor and forearm armor painted black on top of a light grey linen shirt, tucked into high waisted black tight pants finished with a pair of grey boots. Over her pants was something strikingly similar to Fives’ kama. 

Saryn was almost identical in garb, but with a white linen shirt and classic white armor over navy blue tight pants tucked white boots. Finished with the shin guards of what might have been clone armors trimmed to fit her. 

With all five of them there, Alinova- who was apparently the oldest and in charge- deemed it time to tell them how they ended up there.

“So, whether you believe me or not, as weird as it may sound, We’re y’all’s daughters from the future. I can’t tell you too much, but when we’re from, the war is over, but another has started- nothing like this one. No militaries besides the empire. Anyway, we were doing our part- fighting for what we believe in, something you’ll eventually teach us before we come here again-. So we were snooping around an abandoned separatist tech lab, when the Empire rolled up and thing went south. Long story short, they figured out how to use some tech, blasted the riff out of our ship, and apparently: sent us back in time.” She concluded, “Take from that what you will.”

All the while, the clone eventual-fathers nodded watching their respective daughters. Echo cleared his throat, “So what exactly do you all do in your.. ‘part’ as you call it.”

Saryn answered first, “Special Tasks force- Agent 401.”

Echo smiled proudly before Leena added, “Me and Saryn are a team, I’m Special Tasks force- Agent 402. We just usually tag along with Nova.”

“Don’t call me that.” Alinova chirped, throwing an authoritative glare Leena’s way, but Leena was smiling at Fives to much to notice, “I was promoted to commander and chief strategizer of our division before this.”

She said it nonchalantly, but she still glanced to Rex and beamed at the prideful stare she received. Zara stepped forward, “I’m their engineer and pyro-technician. I fix things and blow them up.”

“Hardcase, she’s your carbon copy!” Fives clapped Hardcase on the back. Zara blushed.

“Well, he did teach me everything I know.” She admitted, soaking up the attention Hardcase gave her. She knew she wasn’t allowed to tell him that she hadn’t seen him since she was seven, and that was when her lessons had stopped. 

“And I’m the one who busts my ass to keep them alive.” Jessie concluded. “The medic.”

Kix looked to be bursting at the seams with pride. 

Not a week later, the rest of the girls team got the portal back open. So reluctantly, the troopers let their daughters go to fight in a war they didn’t know anything about. All they knew was that they couldn’t wait to say hello again when they were born. 

And fin.

Sorry this was so long and in no way a reader insert. This is like a mini story! Also (whispers) feel free to draw my new little OCs i created just for this little story. They will probably never see the light of day again. 

Requested by anon like two months ago.

Up next: Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Rex, and Kix with reader who had to fake death for undercover mission. Clones don’t know it was fake and they hadn’t confessed their feelings. 

I need to compare these face shots

This is what I see:

The top gif is full of duty. Dean’s face is set strong, he’s not going to fall apart because he knows Sam couldn’t handle it. He’s being the parent, putting on a show. His arm stretches across Sam’s shoulders protectively and he kind of vice grips him.

But, in the second gif, Dean’s face is soft and full of regret. He’s easier with Cas. More open and vulnerable in this shot. There are things unsaid there, a million thoughts and nothing he can do about it, because he’s all out of time. He doesn’t vice grip Cas. His hand is dead center on his back, pushing their chests together. It’s a warm, intimate hand placement, and he just kind of holds him.

Really, his face has love in both gifs, but I think it’s two different examples of love. Familial versus romantic.

This idea is followed through later when Dean asks Cas to look out for Sam when he’s gone. Dean views himself as Sam’s parent, and asking Cas to fill in for him in his absence is like asking a significant other to step up. It’s very, very much a “look out for our son” kind of moment (without Sam actually being their son).

Of course, this is just my musings on it. If anyone has anything they’d like to add, I’m all ears!

all the small things

kyohei rikudoh x mc (misaki kasagi)

The crowd flickers in almost-unison—a sea of lights in five familiar colors, small spots waving back and forth in no particular rhythm. A storm on the ocean; and Revance, Kyohei thinks with a hint of pride, is the eye of it.

He casts his gaze out, searching, to the dead center of the front row, to a woman holding a red light in her hand. A little extra smile in his direction, a wink that sends her dissolving into giggles at her own behavior. Her cheeks flush red like the light she holds; Kyohei feels the back of his neck prick.

He winks back like the pop star he is, but his smile is deeper, less artificial than it used to be, and then goes back to helping Nagi and Iori hype up the crowd.

It’s the last song of the night, he thinks, half anticipation and half disappointment. But he remembers that the end of the show means seeing her—the disappointment is drowned.

The last song is their most recent one, and he sees the excitement in the slight raise of her shoulders and the broadness of her smile. Nobody has heard it outside the studio yet, and she never seems to get tired of her songs being unveiled on stage. (Although, if she looks like that every time, he can’t say he’ll ever get tired of it, either.)

The thought of being in her arms propels him forward—

“Are you ready, Revance fans?”

A roar from the crowd. He catches her voice and leans closer.

“I can’t hear you!”

Jumbled screams of ‘yeah,’ his own name (and four more), and declarations of love reach his ears. This is the life, he thinks.

“This one’s for all of you! I hope you’re ready!” He winks, steps back, the click of his boots on the stage drowned out by their screams, by Taka’s music flooding the stadium.

This is the dream.

Backstage, he’s met by the sight of Misaki, holding out the last of the towels and water bottles to him. He can’t help his smile as he takes them, and steals a quick kiss before she can protest.

“Kyohei! We’re working!” She whispers, anyways, turning red as his stage uniform. Warmth pools in his chest, flutters in his stomach, leaves him almost desperate as she hurriedly fans her cheeks to hide her blush.

It’s adorable. She’s adorable. And he’s so, so lucky.

And that was just from kissing her cheek, he thinks, smirking.

“We’re backstage,” he counters, and she shoots him a sharp look. But in the curve of her mouth he finds affection, and he hooks his arm around her waist just to have her close.

And, finding that that isn’t nearly good enough, sweeps her into a hug. She squeaks, not in an unsatisfying way, and pushes at his shoulders.

“Kyo, off! You’re covered in sweat!” She laughs, but he holds firm, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Then why don’t you help me out of this stage uniform?” He suggests, one eyebrow raised and every facial feature set to smolder. The blush that rises to her face is perfect, exactly what he wanted—but even as he teases her, he can feel his own blush pricking at the back of his neck when faced with her smile.

She bites her lip, holding his gaze for a moment as if she’s actually considering it. His heart thunders—he hadn’t really thought this far out, actually, because usually—

"Hey, where’s Kyo?” He hears Nagi from somewhere down the hall, loud as ever.

“With Misaki,” comes Kota’s reply, dry and bored as ever.

Feeling Nagito’s excitement like an oncoming storm, Kyo meets Misaki’s gaze once more. She’s still red-faced, but now she only rolls her eyes in amusement.

“It’s like having kids,” she jokes. Kyohei freezes, just for a moment, blood pounding in his ears. Kids, he thinks. Has she thought about that, too? A house with a yard and kids and Little Yamada, a place of their own with a wedding photo hanging on their wall—

He finds himself just as excited by her simple statement as he was on stage only moments ago, except now it leaves him breathless.

“Come on,” she says, wriggling out of his grasp.

In a gesture that feels reminiscent of himself, she holds out her hand for him to take. Kyohei can hear Nagi chattering away (about them, no less, and probably joking about joining in on their ’steamy romance’ — as if) as he takes her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.

She starts to walk, but he pulls her back. Confusion flits across her face, but he kisses her before she can speak, cupping her cheek in his free hand. Her shock is quick to fade, her body responding positively to his kiss. It still weakens his knees to have her this way, to have her as his, her free hand clutching at his vest, but he forces himself back just enough to breathe.

“Our kids will be cuter than any of them,” he says, half joking, before pulling away. He turns before she can see the blush flaring up on his cheeks, barely catching the look of surprise on her face, and begins pulling her down the hallway.

Misaki laughs as she follows him, matching pace, hands held, and it’s better than any cheering he’s ever heard onstage.

This, he thinks, this is the life. This is the dream.

And he’s never been happier.


“I am NOT crying, okay?! I’m allergic to jerks!”
“Give me cake or give me death.”

Markiplier X Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: none except light cursing(??? Maybe????)
A/N: so I’ve been on a huge baby/pregnant thing lately and I just HAD to write this. Obviously, the hormones may seem a tad overdone, but TBH with my luck and my high emotional outbreaks, this will most likely be me as a pregnant woman. Also, the reader describes a lot of Mark’s attributes as stupid. It’s NOT LITERAL. It’s the hormones and stuff. It’s the whole, "I’m trying to be mad at you but your eyes keep distracting me,” type of scenario. Hope y'all like it! Xoxo -Em


You sat in the dead center of the couch with one hand holding the remote control and the other resting on your swollen belly. Mark was upstairs recording–or maybe he was editing at this point, pregnancy brain had really been doing you in lately and you couldn’t keep track of time that well–while you had been watching an amazing episode of ‘Cake Boss.’ And then the creeping feeling of a cake craving began making its way into your mind, but you quickly shook it off and changed the channel. Sadly, on just about every one, they seemed to be eating cake.

With a huff, you set the remote down and stood up, making your way to the kitchen–hoping to find something to at least semi-satisfy your craving. Just as you’re approaching the fridge, with a hand on the handle, you spot something out of the corner of your eye and you pause. Slowly turning your head to face the item, you see it for its true glory. A cake. The most glorious of cakes.

You let out a sigh and swallowed the drool that had built up. ‘You don’t need cake,’ you thought to yourself, trying to convince your raging pregnancy hormones that you didn’t need the cake. But the damn thing seemed to speak to you, saying things like: "Please eat me,” “You know you want me,” and "Look at me. You’ll regret it if you don’t have just a slice.”

Clutching the fridge handle, you whimpered and gave in. You made your way to the cabinet that held the plates and grabbed one. On your way back to the cake you grabbed a knife and fork, ready to slice yourself a little piece of heaven.

As you cut into it, you moaned in delight at the delicious scent of whipped sugar and its spongey counterpart. You were shaking from the excitement when you placed the slice on your plate. You smiled and stared at it for a bit, taking in the exquisite sight of such a lovely creation sitting on your plate.

You paused for a second. ‘Do you really need this piece of cake?’ You felt a kick coming from your abdomen and you smiled, taking it as a sign. 'Yes. Yes you do.’ You grabbed the knife and turned away from the cake to place it in the sink. Once you did, you turned around and saw Mark staring at the piece of cake.

"Ooh… This looks good,” he stated.

"It does, doesn’t it,” you stated, making your way to him and the cake. “Too bad it’s m-” you were cut off by the sight of him grabbing the plate. “What are you doing?”

"Huh? Oh I’m gonna eat th-”

"Like hell, you are. That’s my piece of cake!”

He raised his eyebrows and his stupid knowing smirk appeared. “Oh is it, now?”

"Yes! It is,” you exclaimed reaching for the cake, but failing as Mark raised above his stupid head with faded out red hair. You looked him in the eyes with a stern look. “Give me the cake, Mark.”

"Mmm, I don’t think I will.” His mouth was in a full blown smile.



"Give me the damn cake,” you reached up for the plate but he shifted and moved the plate further out of your reach. He raised his eyebrows and bit his stupid lip.

"Mark. This isn’t funny. Give me the cake.”

"Why should I?”

"Because your six-and-a-half month pregnant wife is craving cake, and that is MY PIECE!”

He just stood there holding the piece of cake over his head with a loving look in his stupidly stupid eyes. He started to lean down toward you but stopped just millimeters away. His lips brushed yours as he said, “You, hon, are so damn cute when you’re determined and mad.”

"Give me cake or give me death, Mark. Give me cake… Or give… Me death.” You had you brows furrowed and your hands clutched in fists.

At that, he pulled back. “If you want a piece of cake that bad, just cut yourself a new one.”

You glanced from the cake itself, to the piece in Mark’s hand, then to Mark. “I don’t want another piece of cake. I want… I want that one!” You started to get choked up and could feel the tears threatening to burst through their hold, as you glanced back and forth between Mark and the piece of cake.

He quickly set it down on the counter and placed his warm hands on your shoulders. “Woah! Hey, why are you crying, baby?” He proceeded to pull you into his big, warm embrace.

"I am NOT crying, okay?! I’m allergic to jerks!” Your voice was muffled in his shoulder as the tears came, and you sniffled.

“I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I was just playing around!” He spoke softly into your ear, while rubbing soothing circles on you back.

"I know, I just,” you sniffled and hiccuped. “That was my piece. It was the piece. There was a reason why I cut that piece in particular!” You sniffled some more and wrapped your arms around his waist while trying to subtly wipe your tears and maybe even a little snot onto his shirt.

He pulled away and reached for the plate with your perfect, beautiful piece of cake on it. “Here, honey. Take your piece of cake.” He placed it in your hands and pulled your head in to place a long and loving kiss to the top of your head.

Almost immediately, the tears stopped flowing and you stared at your iced love, slightly sniffling. “Thank you,” you said, softly and you proceeded to press a kiss onto his stupidly cute, scruffy cheek and all but skip back to the couch, leaving Mark in a dumbfounded trance.

After a minute, he joined you on the couch, pulling you into into his side. “Well, that was one hell of a ride on the hormone coaster,” he mumbled in your ear, kissing the top of it.

You instantly stopped chewing the bite you were on and turned your head to look at his face. You narrowed your eyes at him with a 'really?!’ look and said, “If you weren’t so right, I’d punch you in your perfect teeth.” You ended your statement with a peck on his lips and went back to eating your cake.

"Did you just quote Civil War?”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up and hold me.”

AN: I really just used this gif for the smirk, please ignore the soot and burning New York City behind him! Thank you anon who sent this in, I hope you like it! *I do not own the gif, found on google. Please ignore all spelling errors! Xoxoxoxoxo :3

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Prompt: could you write an imagine where The Reader works with Tony and Bruce in the lab as their intern and Steve meets her and starts visiting the lab everyday saying that he is just wanting to learn but he really has a crush on the reader? you can add or subtract things or whatever. please and thank you :)

Warning: Swearing


“Lab Experiment”

Keep reading

New Jersey Gothic

(I saw one of these and I wasn’t feeling it so having lived my whole life in NJ I’ll give it a shot)

  • The new shopping center is already covered in dead seagulls. You enter one of the three Targets because you need a new notebook. The last one became dust in your hands. The checkout clerk communicates with you in only grunts. At least it’s not Walmart.

  • You order pancakes at the diner. It is 6pm but the only thing on the menu is pancakes. The waitress is so nice but she never looks at you. When you look away you feel like you are being watched but when you glance over she is gone. Your pancakes taste like salt and ash. You pay at the front desk.

  • It’s the weekend and you need to get to New York City. You knock three times at the door to the train station to gain entrance but all of the trains are gone. The man at the ticket window opens his mouth and flies spill out. The flies don’t know when the train will come either.

  • At the beach the water is as black as the void. The surviving seagulls from the new shopping center build nests of human bones and french fries in the sand. The governor has promised to clean it up but they are too strong now. 

  • Your boyfriend visits but he doesn’t speak the language. You translate the moans of the clerk at CVS but he cannot understand. “Everyone is so rude here!” he says when he leaves. He never finds his way home.

  • Yesterday you heard your neighbor practicing witchcraft. It is so loud and you can’t sleep. The next day, his house has grown three stories and is right against your fence. The siding is sticky like black tar. Your father hates these new McMansions. 

  • Your music teacher wants you to call him Vinnie T. The notes of your sheet of music keep moving but you know how to play the same funeral march as the other band members. Vinnie T conducts you with a dead sparrow impaled on a stick. The sparrow is also named Vinnie T.

  • The Giants are playing at The Stadium. Its name is unspeakable and the surrounding swamps are buzzing. The only being watching the game is the New Jersey Devil. He chants with the music over the loudspeakers and the players drop dead on the field. But he’s really more of a Jets fan anyway.

  • Everyone works in New York City. They live here but they are never here. You ask your father about work and he stares through you. Your mother cooks seagull for dinner. They shriek in unison through the night until the City calls them back.

  • Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. You can still hear the screeching cars from your house.

  • You know where Jimmy Hoffa is but you cannot say. People keep asking but your mouth fills with sawdust when you answer. He visits you each night and whispers dark secrets into your ears. Blood is still leaking from his eyes and in the morning you cannot remember what he said.

  • No one ever leaves your town. The PTA has been the same people for the last 300 years. Your mother says you can never move away. There are tears in her eyes. No one ever leaves your town.

  • To cross the dividers on the main street you must learn to use the jughandles. Every jughandle is guarded by a different demon and you must learn their rules to enter. If you break the rules you will be taken. Crosses and flowers litter the side of the road. We lose one every day.

  • You go to Hoboken when you die. It’s not as bad as you thought.
The Signs as Moody Teens
  • Aries: seems sweet at first; is fascinated with the dead, and it's kinda creepy
  • Taurus: your typical dweeb who has yet to discover their true potential
  • Gemini: the epitome of a nerd
  • Cancer: a hard-shelled, angry individual with a warm, gooey center
  • Leo: a precious angel who kills things with their own two hands
  • Virgo: the mother of the group
  • Libra: the hyperactive one who's always talking
  • Scorpio: do not trust this one under any circumstances
  • Sagittarius: has the body of a jock and the mind of an electronics expert
  • Capricorn: oh boy
  • Aquarius: hipster douchebag
  • Pisces: a friendly optimist who's often excited
Percico smut


*this contains mature content, nudity and sexual activity*

“Do you have any activities later today?” Percy whispers in his ghost king’s ear, almost seductively. They were at lunch, after sword fighting all morning

Nico subtly shakes his head to avoid other camper’s gazes. In the past few months of their relationship, Nico had been really shy around other people.

Percy reached his hand underneath the table, away from anybody’s view and silently rubbed Nico’ crotch. Not too intense to let it show on Nico’s face but just enough where he got the message. Nico stared at Percy, looking slightly hungry for something, confirming Percy’s suspicions.

Percy finished up his meal quickly so he could have time to do his business before dinner again at the mess hall. Nico didn’t have much of an appetite normally but today he ate his food in precisely 15 seconds flat. After finishing their meals, Nico and Percy scooped up the leftovers to the Gods and headed on to the Poseidon cabin ; Hazel was visiting and Nico couldn’t risk disrupting her innocence.

By the time they had got 20 feet away from the mess hall, Nico was practically sprinting and Percy was struggling to keep up with him. He was winded by the time they arrived at his bed, not a good way to start this.

“Percy, let’s take it slow, dinner’s not until 6:00!” Nico said as Percy undid his pants. “I have some ideas…” Nico smirked while he led Percy on. He walked over and zipped up Percy’s jeans. It was hard but in the end it would be worth it. Nico backed away and sat on the bed. “Strip for me” he said.

“What?!” Percy exclaimed. He moved towards Nico, wanting to just tear him apart.

Nico held up his hands,”You will strip or you can join the basketball game” Percy looked unhappy but hey, he might as we’ll take advantage of the situation.

He backed away slowly, looking Nico dead center in the eyes. Percy reached down to the hem of his camp half blood shirt, and tug upwards, taking a while to finally let it loose and toss the crumpled pile at Nico. Nico was already feeling an erection coming on, how does this boy do it? He asked himself.

Meanwhile, Percy slid his hands down to his jeans, and unzipped. He stepped out of them and the only thing he had on were his boxers, the bulge as prominent as usual, maybe, probably more. Soon, he tossed those aside, and Percy Jackson was fully naked, his 8 inch cock now right in Nico’s face.
Nico was feeling hot and bothered. It took all his willpower not to rip off his own clothes. But he didn’t. No, the son of Hades kneeled down to where he was eye level with Percy’s dick. He smirked up at the older man and opened his mouth wide. Percy looked at him, confused for a moment.

Nico, despite what Percy thought, closed his mouth and stroked Percy’s ginormous dick until Percy could take no more games. He grabbed Nico’s head and pulled him up to his face, smashing their lips together. he ripped Nico’s shirt off and the younger demigod quickly slipped out of his jeans and briefs, too eager to play games.

They toppled on top of the bed, Nico’s hands exploring Percy’s body and making him exhale gasps of pleasure with every touch. Nico had enough strength to resist Percy’s tongue and keep his mouth closed while the older boy softly begged for entrance. Nico didn’t oblige but furiously grinded Percy’s bare hips with his own, feeling their cocks collide, Percy gigantic member giving him an erection.

Percy slid down to Nico’s smaller dick, giving him a look of mischief and pleasure, and sucked on the smaller man’s cock. He bobbed his head up and down and licked wonders on his shaft, sending waves of pleasure throughout the boy’s body. Nico braced his hands against Percy’ shoulders. “I’m gonna.. I’m gonna… ” Percy didn’t pull away as Nico released his seed into his mouth and he swallowed it, savoring the semi-sweet taste of Nico’s come.

He moved up and was now face to face with his lover. This time, as he kissed Nico, the boy greeted it generously, opening his mouth and letting Percy’s tongue explore his own, losing himself in the contact of their bodies and the intense kiss. They became as close as they could, from their toes to their heads, Nico and Percy were not separated.

Their dicks slid next to each other, sending shivers down both of the men’s bodies every time they touched. Nico touched Percy I’m ways he had never before and when they had both released their seed onto each other in a tangle of cocks and mouths and fingers, both boys fell back and slipped into each’s embrace, awaiting the bell to signal dinner.

Delta Episode Daiharu headcanon

The whole cave of origin episode was enough. Steven was scared of everything that was going on. He felt so horrible for depending so much on May. He hated waiting for her to return. He feared for the worse. After she came out, he promised himself to never let May do anything so dangerous again. But then Zinnia popped up. He knew she was trouble. He knew somehow May was going to get sucked into it all. And he was right.
I personally headcanon him to have been watching the whole delta episode in the Space Center from the satellites. He got snappy and kept telling the scientists to change cameras whenever one would go black. He started losing his patience. And when one was being too slow to him, he yelled - which was unlike him. He normally kept his composure.
He took things into his own hands. He typed messily and frantically. And when he finally caught sight of May again, he went numb. She was falling. Falling. Then the screen went black. He thought for sure she was dead. He could feel the hatred for Zinnia boil within himself. He could feel the intense guilt fill within him.
After that he wandered off silently to the elite four into the room where May would’ve been waiting for her next challenger. She had a whole future ahead of her.
He ignored Wallace’s calls. He started thinking about his deceased mom. He started thinking about when he first met May - that spark in her eyes that he’d never see again. He knew she was too good to be true.
His thoughts then stopped to the sound of a frantic Wallace racing in. And his heart pounced to the words “she’s alive”
(Explanation as to why you see Wallace and Steven together in the elite four during the credits.)




Notes: I switched this up a bit, still hope you like it. In TBS’ POV. Also, I made myself cry, so I hope all you cry, too.

Thomas rushed over to where his mail was. He’d gotten one letter and it was from you. You were his best friend, and you were sick with cancer. The doctors said you had a 60-percent chance of living, so you took medication and treatment. Things were going well. Sadly, Thomas couldn’t be there for most of it since he was busy filming and working on projects. So you came up with the idea of writing letters to each other.

Thomas opened the letter.

Treatment is so… time consuming. It drains me, too. I wish you were here to hold my hand. I miss you lots. I miss talking to you about everything face to face, but hey, it’s okay. We’ll see each other soon, right? Anyway… the doctors found something, and are going to be taking more tests soon. Sorry this one isn’t long like the others. Talk soon, I love you best friend! xx

Thomas grabbed paper quickly, writing his response.He wrote it so quickly, telling you about a funny thing on set that you would love. He signed it off, getting up and putting it in the mail room to be delivered out.

You and Thomas wrote a lot. Wrote so quickly. Letters were coming for him every week from you. Once a week, one letter would be there for him. This had been going on for five weeks.

“How’s she doing?” Dylan asked as Thomas read another letter. He was frowning, tears in his eyes.

“They found another tumor. A brain tumor.”

“Thomas, I’m sorry.” Dylan patted him on the back, keeping his hand there.

“She’s my best friend, Dylan. I love her. I can’t imagine this world without her.” He let a few tears fall. Dylan frowned, hating to see such a beloved friend so sad.

“She’ll pull through. Y/N is a strong girl. She’s a fighter.”

Thomas nodded, but said nothing. He just kept reading over your words,The lines that said They found another tumor, except this time it’s in the brain. Don’t know what will happen now. Thomas was scared. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. You were supposed to to be interning at a magazine company, being a photographer. And you were doing great for your first week… until you collapsed one day while taking pictures. That was three months ago.

Thomas got to writing. 

Hey Y/N.
I really wish I could be there with you write now. You know I would. I should be coming home in about a week or so. I’ll be there and make the tumor disappear… I still miss. You’re always in my thoughts, hope you know. Everyone on set wishes you get well wishes, and they miss having you on the set lurking! I’ll see you soon. I love you so much.

The next week, two things came for Thomas. Though he didn’t pay attention to the second thing. Only the letter from you. What he read tore him apart. He broke down within the second sentence.

I believe this will be my last letter to you. Um…. I don’t know how to say this… you haven’t been responding. But I understand that you’re busy. So it’s okay, and I forgive you. Please don’t feel guilty. To get to the point, doctors say I won’t last much longer. That tumor I’ve been telling you about, it’s not going away. I’m getting weaker. My hands are shaking and I sleep most of the day. I’m going. I’m… fading fast. And I won’t be here much longer. Just know that Thomas, you are my very best friend. You always will, and I love you so damn much. My final wish to you is to not replace me, and to speak at my funeral. Please. I know it’ll be hard, but I want you to speak. Please. I love you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t keep fighting. Goodbye, best friend

Thomas was sobbing. He was crying so hard, letting all the sounds escaping his throat. He couldn’t believe it. And what really threw him off was that you mentioned he wasn’t replying. He was so confused. He had been replying, and you’d been talking back to him.

But then, as Thomas turned your final letter over, he noticed that you wrote the date on the back in tiny writing. 16 November 2016. You wrote and sent that two weeks ago. Two weeks. He quickly rushed over to the other stashed letters. They all had the date written on them in tiny writing. They were all delayed. They must’ve gotten lost in the mail of something. 

Thomas’ heart dropped. He remembered the other thing in the mail for him. He noticed it was colorful and laminated. With his trembling hands, he walked over, picking it up. Seeing it, he nearly screamed.


8 February 1991 - 17 November 2016

It displayed a picture of you on the front, smiling and looking healthy. Then Thomas opened it. One side was information, the other side were pictures of you. Dead center, was a picture of you and Thomas last year. You were both tipsy, both making silly faces. It was New Year’s Eve.

One the left side, it said where your service would be held and what time. It was happening tomorrow. Thomas had to be there. He was crying so hard though. He was panicking, forgetting where he was at for a moment. He lost the girl he knew since he was a baby. The girl who’d created so many memories with him. The girl who was there through it all. He was sobbing loudly in the room he was in, not being able to hold himself up. He sat on the floor, your final letter and program in his hands. He cried, tears drowning his face and hitting his hands.

“Thomas?” It was Dylan again, but this time Kaya was also with him. His two friends ran to him, crouching down on both sides of him.

“Thomas, what happened?” Kaya questioned, before glancing down at his hands. She was your picture, and the dates. Kaya, who had met you and become good friends with, instantly started crying. She hugged Thomas as he said nothing. He only cried, letting out sad noises.

When Dylan saw the program as well, he even started crying. Dylan loved having you around on set, teasing them between breaks. Everyone loved having you there. Knowing that they’d never see you again broke them. Dylan joined in with the hugging.

“I need to go,” Thomas said, voice strained.”Her funeral’s tomorrow, I need to get on a plane now!” His voice shook as he stood up. He quickly grabbed all the letters he’d gotten from you, grabbed his phone, passport, and wallet. He didn’t need anything else. No clothes or anything. He got up and left.

Your friends and family gathered around. They sat in between the pews. Even all the Maze Runner people who you grew close to over the years were there. Once they heard Thomas, everyone who could also bought a plane ticket to England to attend. Thomas, your parents, and grandparents all sat in the very front. Thomas’ family sat right behind them.

The service went on, you being an open casket. People spoke and people cried. Then it was Thomas’ turn to go up and speak. He had never in his life felt so nervous and scared and sad. He’d never thought this day would come.

“Hello, everyone,” he began, voice shaky. “Um, just for the record, sorry if I start crying and become incomprehensible.”

Thomas closed his eyes quickly, holding the crumpled up paper that had smeared writing and dried tear stains on it. He looked terrible, being sleep deprived as he never went to sleep last night. He was shaking, too. Thomas inhales and exhaled, then officially started.

“I’ve known Y/N since about she was born. Our mum’s are best friends, and so Y/N and I became best friends. Um, so… we’ve been through it all.” He wasn’t even looking at his paper anymore, going off on a whim. “Y/N was always a beautiful girl. At least I always thought that. She was funny and sarcastic, and never treated me differently with all my acting projects. She’s seen me at my absolute worst for the most part… I’m sorry, I’m at my… absolute worst… right now. And I really wish she was here to hug me.”

Thomas was beginning to break down already, staring at all the faces he knew, crying along with him. He continued.

“Y/N was smart and an all around fantastic girl. She was the best. Her and I used to take bubble baths together when we were younger. We’d get bubbles everywhere and have a bubble party. She always spent the night, and me being the chicken I was, was afraid of the dark. She always knew how to make it better for me. When I’m away, she’d always call me at random hours just to check in…” Thomas was crying, but trying his best to keep his voice steady.

“And when she got sick, I was with her. She wanted me to come with her. She kept telling me that she wasn’t feeling good, and she wanted me there. I was the first to find out that she was sick, and she looked at me and told me ‘Don’t cry, Tommy. Everything will be okay in the end.’ And it really sucked because I had to leave for my next project at the worst possible time. And since Y/N didn’t really have access to a computer or her phone, she thought writing letters would be fun… little did I know her letters got lost in the mail, but they all came and I responded to them without knowing what had happened. And in her last letter, she asked me to speak at this service, and to never replace her.”

Each word was getting harder and harder for him. He loved you so much. You were his rock.

“Oh God… I h-hope she knows that I wa-wasn’t ignoring her letters. I h-hope she knows that I could never replace her. Never. Not with anyone. I love her so much, and I always will. She is by far the greatest human I know. She is the best person anyone could ask for, and I hope everyone in here realized how amazing this girl was and still is. Y/N is my rock, my best friend, the first person I ever loved. She was willing to help anyone and everyone, dropping what she was doing to help them… I miss her. We all miss her… But let us not remember her being sick. I know she’d hate that. Let’s remember her as that funny little girl with a bright smile on her face. Remember her as someone who could light up the room with her presence. Remember her short time lived on earth, and remember all the amazing things she’d done… I’m sorry this was long, I have so much more to say, but I’m not going to hog the podium. I love Y/N; we all do. Thank you for listening.”

With that, Thomas left his spot. He couldn’t go back to his seat next to your mother. Instead he walked down the aisle, needing a moment by himself. He couldn’t do it. He was weak; at his weakest. He felt terrible for needing to remove himself, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stand seeing you in that casket. Every time he looked at you, he swore he saw you breathing still. But he knew you weren’t. 

Thomas knew this would take a while for him to get used to. He wasn’t going to be able to call you anymore, or hear your voice. He didn’t want to say his final goodbye when they put you six feet underneath the ground. He wasn’t ready. He was never ready.