this is not how i meant to kick off barricade days

a cog in the machine pt. 3

pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jimin

genre:  robot!jimin, assassin!au, mafia!au, angst, smut

word count: 7,032

warnings: death mention, implied drug use, just heavy themes in general

a/n: as always, i will go back and edit later! 

Originally posted by the-rap-man

a cog in the machine:  a small or insignificant member of a larger organization or system 

part 1 part 2

You stare at the empty suitcase on your bed can’t help but feel like you were stuck in the middle of some twisted nightmare and not your real life. Your eyes glance over to the passport sitting on top of your dresser, a plane ticket shoved in between the worn pages. It had been several years since you joined the Organization and you have collected many stamps in your passport, but you never got used to this feeling.

The night before you left for an assignment was always one of restless nights and having to go to the bathroom every five minutes because of your nerves. Tonight was the same, but it was also different. You remembered the first time you went to Venice, how foolishly excited you were about going to one of the world’s most beautiful cities. Hyunsik teased you about the travel book you had found in the library that was dog eared with all of the places you wanted to visit. All the places the three of you wanted to see together. All the things you wanted to do.

But you never imagined that bringing one of them home in a body bag would be added to the top.

The news of your assignment spread like wildfire as sources of entertainment around the compound were scarce these day, especially after the shine of Jimin’s arrival had worn off. It could have been paranoia, but you were sure that they were all making bets to see how long you would last. How long it would take for you to finally snap.

“Go away!” you shouted as someone knocked on your closed bedroom door.

“Don’t be like this,” Yoongi hisses from across the locked barricade.

Keep reading

[Miraculous Ladybug]: Dressed to Kill

i….am procrastinating this paper super hard….so i started a one-shot series. isn’t that fun?

bit of a T rating, but if you don’t mind that, enjoy :)

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Title: Dressed to Kill

Summary: “You got a fucking manicure before a job?”

Chloe held one of her hunting blades in between her teeth while she loaded a magazine into her gun. “Shut the fuck up, they were giving mani pedis away for twenty euros, how was I going to say no to that?”

Chlonette Assassins AU

1. Flirting on the Job

“You got a fucking manicure before a job?”

Chloe held one of her hunting blades in between her teeth while she loaded a magazine into her gun. “Shut the fuck up, they were giving mani pedis away for twenty euros, how was I going to say no to that?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and peeked around the corner, staring at the two guards stationed at the door at the other end of the courtyard. She finished screwing her suppressor onto her own gun and checked her pockets for her compression gloves. “So if some asshole has me in a chokehold, you’re not going to punch him in the face because you have to protect your goddamn gel manicure?”

“I never said that,” Chloe groaned. “Obviously I’d clock him straight in the nose, but I will expect you to pay for my replacement manicure since you shouldn’t be getting yourself into that situation in the first place.”

“Oh nice.”

“I’m a single woman, I deserve to pamper myself, sue me.”

Marinette fastened the velcro of her gloves and counted the knives she had strapped to her thigh. “That’s your own fault. I offered to sleep with you literally last week and you said no.” She checked her watch. “Shifts change in 3 minutes.”

“Roger,” Chloe replied automatically. “Also, fuck you, you told me you’d sleep with me because, and I quote, you found my dry spell ‘cripplingly pathetic.’”

“I mean, it is. Offer still stands,” Marinette winked. 

Keep reading

The Note

Originally posted by kuromel

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Summary: Yoongi has to leave early in the morning and instead of waking you up to say goodbye, he leaves you a note. 

Yoongi hates to leave so early in the morning. Not because of the ungodly hour of 4 am but the fact that he can’t tell you goodbye. Well he could but he knew you had a long day ahead of you and you could use all the sleep you could get. He knew you would be mad for him leaving without telling you but he can’t seem to make himself take you out of your peaceful slumber. He feels like an asshole already having to leave you yet again but if he woke you up, that feeling would just get worse. Instead he leaves a carefully placed note on the nightstand that you will see as soon as you open your eyes. Besides, you can call him when you wake up like you usually do when he’s away.


The screeching calls of the alarm clock rouse you from your little slice of heaven called sleep. You don’t dare open your eyes yet because you could feel the sun’s warmth on your skin and you didn’t feel like being blinded just yet. You flop your arm around the nightstand until you find the annoying machine and hit the off button. You wish you could sleep for another hour but you have two meetings this morning that you could not be late for. You turn over to find the other side of the bed cold. Your eyes pop before the memory of Yoongi telling you about the trip. Why did he not wake you up when he left though? He always did. Even with your grumpy curses he still said goodbye.

You pout and reluctantly get out of bed. Looking at the clock, you notice that you don’t have very much time to slack off and your usual morning call to Yoongi would have to wait until your break. You hop in the shower and start washing your body allowing the warm water to loosen up your muscles while you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead. Quickly, you dry off and get dressed into the outfit you had chosen for the day. Good thing you usually pick out what you wear the night before because there is not a minute to spare as you rush to put on your makeup and style your hair. You run through the house grabbing your purse and jacket as you make your way out the door. Locking it behind you, a little wave of sadness washes over you because you didn’t get to say goodbye to Yoongi before he left. You shake your head to get rid of the thought and start making your way to work.

The meetings drag on as you listen to your peers mostly complain about the new merger that is about to take place. You usually would add some opinions of your own into the mix but today you just didn’t feel like adding onto the complaints. You were mostly there to listen to the financial reports anyway and see how things might look in the next quarter. With the meetings lasting longer than expected, you don’t have time for a break today. You could just imagine the emails that were piling up in your inbox and the stack of work being left on your desk. Even though you were extremely busy, every now and then the thought of Yoongi would pop into your head leaving you a bitter taste in your mouth. Not only were you sad about this morning, but with the routine that you had grown accustomed to being disturbed you were starting to get agitated as well. He not only affected your morning but he was affecting your work as well. You let a dry chuckle escape from your mouth as you thought about how much Yoongi had significance over your day. You usually laughed at the girls who made their man the center of their lives but now you realized you were starting to become one of them. Nope. This can’t happen. You gave yourself one minute to think but eventually put everything Yoongi related into a box and pushed him as far back into your brain as you could. You had work to do and thinking about him was getting nothing done. You took a deep breath before jumping into your long day. Alright. Time to get to work.


This is strange. She should have already called by now. She must be having a really busy day. Yoongi sat at the airport waiting for the car to come pick him and the other members up. He wasn’t particularly worried that you haven’t called him because he understands busy days, he just really wants to know whether or not you saw his note. Surely she would have seen it. It was right in front of her face. She is a wild sleeper though…The thought of you sleeping made him smile. You weren’t the tamest when you slept and Yoongi always had to be prepared to get an arm in the face or an elbow in the back. He knew you couldn’t help it which is how he kept himself from completely kicking you out of bed but sometimes he had some rough nights. Yoongi stares at his phone debating whether or not he should text you to see how your day was going. He wanted to talk to you but he didn’t want to distract you during work. Before he could type out a message, the car pulls up in front of the group and the body guards swarm around them creating a barricade for them to hurry into the car before it was swamped with fans. He decides that it’s best to leave you be and let you get as much work done as possible.


As the day passes, you make pretty good progress through your work even though your mind keeps drifting to the asshole named Min Yoongi. You wanted to think of anything except him but your mind just wouldn’t let you. First, he didn’t say goodbye this morning and now he hasn’t even texted or called you to see how your day was going? They were selfish thoughts but you didn’t care anymore. You were his girlfriend and you wanted him to show a little affection every now and then. Just a simple text from him asking if you had eaten yet would suffice but noooo Mr. Tough Guy Min Yoongi didn’t do those kinds of things. You mentally stick your tongue out at the picture you had of him on your desk. At least the day was almost over and you could go home and finally relax. You began to shut down everything in your office and pack up for the day when one of your coworkers stops by and asks if you want to come get some drinks with them. You decline the offer and start heading home.

You unlock the door and walk into your apartment immediately feeling the stress of the day melt off your shoulders. The irritation is still there but eventually you’ll get over that. Eventually. The first thing you do is change into your pajamas so that you would be comfortable. Next, you head into the kitchen to start dinner. You end up making something simple since Yoongi wasn’t there. There he was again, popping into our mind not letting you fully be at ease. Not only were the events of the day making you irritated but being at home without Yoongi made you lonely as well. Still no text or call from him. You want to at least know how his day was going but you don’t want to distract him so you decide to just leave him be.

You eat dinner and retreat to the bedroom so you could work on some things for the morning. Yoongi never approved of either of you bringing work into the bedroom since you both seemed to be workaholics but he wasn’t there and you knew that you would be falling asleep soon. You sit down on the bed and turn to get your laptop from the shelf beside your bed when you notice a folded piece of paper on the floor. Squinting at the piece of paper in confusion you pick it up and see that it has Yoongi’s handwriting. This couldn’t be something he has been working on because he would never be as careless as to leave it on the floor so you could read it. You turn it over and see your name written in the black ink. You slowly open the note and begin reading.


Another day I have to leave you. Another day I have to go without your beautiful smile. My love may not always be spoken but know that it is there. It is there in the wind that rustles the leaves and it is there in the rays that warm your skin. I hate to leave you again. When I leave, I feel like my whole world is without it’s sun. I did not wake you this time because I did not want to see the sadness that fills your eyes when the goodbye leaves your beautiful mouth. What I would give to see you every minute of every day for the rest of my life. The love I have for you is as endless as the stars in the sky. Please stay well my love and know that I am with you always as you are with me. Thank you for becoming my one and only. My treasure.


Before you realize it, tears begin to fall down your face and your hands cannot reach fast enough for your phone. You have to call him. You have to hear his voice. Even though you can’t see with the amount of tears in your eyes, you successfully dial his number and wait for him to answer. After a few rings, he finally picks up.

“Hey babe, how was your day?”

“Yoongi, you asshole!” You cry into the phone.

“What happened? What did I do?”

“You wrote me this damn note and now I’m crying because you’re the sweetest boyfriend anyone could have!”

“Awww baby, don’t cry. I meant for that note to make you happy.” You could hear him chuckle a little as he soothed you.

“Don’t baby me! How dare you write that note and then just leave! How am I going to kiss you when you’re all the way across the world?” You’ve stopped crying but the emotions are still there.

“I’ll be home in couple days. You can kiss me all you want when I get back.” You could hear the smile in his voice just by the way he talked. He must have been by himself because he never would say that in front of anyone.

“You better be prepared. I’m not in the mood for any games.”

You and Yoongi continue to talk on the phone talking about both of your days, how that annoying intern is always kissing up to the boss and getting in your way and how Jin keeps going at it with his dad jokes just to annoy him. After about an hour and a half, you hear Yoongi yawn which causes you to yawn in return.

“We should both get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day for both of us.” Yoongi’s voice is starting to get groggy and you’re already almost asleep just listening to it.

“I know. Talk tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby girl.”

“Okay. Goodnight. Love you. Sweet dreams.” You don’t want to let him go but you know he is right. You both need sleep for the next day.

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams. I love you too.”

You hang up the phone and put it on the charger as you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth. After washing up, you climb back into bed and set your alarm. Before you’re able to get comfortable, you hear your phone go off on the nightstand. You turn it over and there is a text from Yoongi.

Come meet me in my dreams.

Fifth Christmas, Part 2

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third

A/N: I shall now interrupt my regularly scheduled ‘Christmas’ series with an little added bonus … a little extra floofiness if you will … Mulder’s Christmas Day with the Scully’s …


He was a grown-ass man.

He should not have damned butterflies playing roller derby in his stomach.

It was only Christmas morning.

Christmas morning with the Scully’s.

All of them.

Nine adults … seven kids … 10,000 presents … one tree … 20 pounds of smashed potatoes … two roasters of ham … three cakes, chocolate with sprinkles, vanilla with cherry filling and black cherry frosting, carrot with to-die-for cream cheese decadence … one shirt collar that suddenly felt entirely too tight and two shoes that squeaked.

He was going to die before he hit the front door.

Noticing his palm-sweating nerves and jiggling knee, she parked in front of the house but didn’t get out, instead taking his damp hand in hers, “are you dying? Do we need to go back home? Are you afraid of the short people that will be hopped up on Santa and Christmas cookies? Are you afraid of the tall ones whom you’ve met or the ones you haven’t? Will you survive my mother’s 2-ton Christmas feast?”

The smile she tried to contain and the panic he couldn’t made her squeeze his knee with her other hand, reaching across the shifter to touch him twice at once.

Butterflies turned to rampant electricity in his veins and a giddy, hitched chuckle arose, “all of the above. I have no idea why I’m nervous but I am and I’m an idiot.”

This time, when her lips feathered his cheek, he nearly busted a gasket but remained calm, “you will be fine. The kids are gonna love you because you’re really tall and look like you would be perfectly willing to give shoulder rides. Just stick with them if all else fails.”

“How do I look willing to give shoulder rides?”

“You don’t but when Hannah asks you to, you will melt and do it and it’ll all snowball and you’ll go home tonight perfectly happy and slightly bruised from the heels that have been banging your upper chest all day.”

Giving her hand a last squeeze, he let go, “come on, let’s go see how my first real Christmas in 25 years is gonna play out.”

He was out of the car and waiting for her before she slowly slipped from the car, not gathering her armload of gifts yet but coming to his side, standing up on the curb to get a better height on him. In a quiet voice that blending with the barely dawning sky, “but you go to your mom’s for Christmas every year.”

‘Cause he couldn’t lie to her, not on such an honest morning, “not every year and it’s never fun or relaxing or remotely real. Usually it’s forced pleasantries and stuffy food and awkward silences and I escape as soon as duty allows.” He didn’t want to bring her down so he kissed her on the nose, a quick peck there and gone, “and we’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.”

Sliding her wool-covered arms under his, she rested her cheeks against the cold material of his coat, hugging him tightly, fierce-protective mode in high gear, “I’m sorry. If I’d have known that, I’d have been dragging you along with me from the beginning.”

He settled his arms around her, face turned, cheek on top of her winter cap, “thank you.”

They stayed like this longer than they should have and the front door opening, her cousin’s voice carrying across the cold from the front porch, “break it up, woman and get your butt inside. The longer you stand out here, the longer I have to keep these kids barricaded upstairs and the natives are getting restless!”

Lifting her head to survey her cousin with a smile, “Shut up, Dave. You’re gonna wake the entire neighborhood.”

“It’s Christmas. They shouldn’t be asleep anyways. Now make room for Jesus and come inside or I’ll have to sic Aunt Maggie on you.”

They hustled after this, not wanting to impose the wrath of Mama Scully and her very real threats of burned ham and coal in stockings. Getting in the front door with both Mulder and gifts in tow, she kicked Dave lightly in the shins, getting his flannel pajamas snowy, “you are not getting a gift.”

“Good, ‘cause I didn’t get you anything either.” Grabbing her head in a hug, “Merry Christmas, old lady.”

Once he disappeared back up the steps, Mulder turned to her, “I like him.”

“He’ll like you back. Trust me.”

They no sooner had gotten shoes off and coats hung then feet began pounding down the stairs, tumbling past them, yelling ‘Merry Christmas’ as they passed. The small people were followed by the big people, Charlie and Dave racing down just as loudly, yelling ‘Feliz Navidad’ and some kind of boisterous holiday exclamation in what sounds suspiciously like Klingon.

Mulder looked at Scully, already feeling his nervousness fading into astonished anticipation, “this is gonna be fun.”

Reaching over, she pulled him behind her by the hand, “come on. The tree’s back here.”


There were gifts but only two each, then Maggie cut everybody off, her two sons and nephew the loudest of the good-natured protestors, telling them that mass was in an hour and they had 15 minutes to get ready to leave.

Mulder looked at Scully, “mass?”

With a guilty look flooding her face, “I totally forgot to mention that, didn’t I? I’m sorry. We always either go to Midnight Mass or Christmas morning. I guess they didn’t go last night.” Leaning forward on her elbows, she turned to look at him, “you don’t have to go. Mom won’t mind. You can just hang out here and take a nap or just,” digging for the book Maggie got her, she held it out to him, “read this.”

Taking the book but setting in beside her without a glance, “do you think your God is accurate enough to hit only me with the lightning bolt? I mean, I’ll go but only if I can guarantee I’m the only one who’s going to get struck.”

Scully’s lips curved in a knowing smirk, “he’s got good aim but I think you’ll be fine.”

“Then I’d like to go.”


He had never experienced a full-on Christmas mass before, especially not one with 16 people packed in one pew, kids doing their best to be quiet, suppressing their antsy, I’ve got gifts at home waiting demeanor and failing miserably. Scully, though, held his hand at required parts and kept holding his hand at parts where no one else held hands at all.

He missed most of what the priest talked about but he enjoyed the singing and the smells, which he meant to ask about but forgot because of, well, the hand-holding. Soon, they were all leaving the pew for communion and Mulder moved with them but Scully gently shook her head, whispering, “we’ll be back. You stay here.”

He didn’t care about it anyways. Mostly, he just missed her hand and spent the entire time they were out of the pew wondering if he would get it back when she returned.

He did.

He enjoyed Mass very much.

He retook her mittened hand once they got outside, opening her door for her and just grinning when she mentioned he must be trying to store up brownie points for something.

Then she reached for his damp wool glove on the short drive home.


Breakfast was phenomenally loud, things spilling, burned bacon, which Mulder loved and Scully knew and kept slipping onto his plate. He in turn gave her all his strawberries and whipped cream from his pancakes … partners to the end in both crime fighting and breakfast shenanigans.

Present opening began as soon as the last dish was washed and dried. Mulder chose to settle on the floor against the wall, Scully designated present-passer-outer for this leg of the insanity, stealing glances at him each time she came near and without fail, caught him looking back, locking away every glance like an addled schoolboy who’s crush had just discovered his existence and may forget again with her next heartbeat.

Then she stopped in front of him, a big smile on her face and a bigger box, “Merry Christmas from Mom and I.”

The look he gave her must have been so filled with stunned bewilderment that she suddenly dropped to her knees, hugging him and the big box close, whispering in his ear, “please, smile. You’re gonna make me cry.”

So he did, pulling away to reveal a gigantic grin, “want to help me open it?”

Still crouching in front of him, she shook her head, “nope but I’m going to watch.”

Inside, there was an enormous collection of crazy themed socks and horribly wonderful ties, bags of sunflower seeds, 10 pairs of sunglasses, a whole container of homemade peanut butter marshmallow fudge that he loved with all his soul and stomach and Maggie knew he loved, the entire collection of Star Trek on DVD and a keychain with an alien head on it, which Scully leaned over to tell him quietly that Maggie had picked out everything but the seeds and the ties.

Standing right up, he hauled Maggie up from the couch and hugged her, squeezing her until someone made an amused comment to let go of his mother before he broke her in half.

Not wanting to break the lovely woman in charge of making him fudge, he released her, then sat back down, immediately changing his socks.

After that, Scully turned over the gift distribution reins to Matt and sidled up beside him, leaning into his side more than platonically allowable but less than I’ve seen you naked expected.

He was in some kind of Irish heaven and he never wanted to leave.


Caught in that lull between presents and dinner, the house gradually went quiet, all kids and adult males gone from the living room. Mulder was beginning to wonder what had happened when suddenly, “hey, Mulder?”

The voice had bellowed from the kitchen and Scully pushed him to stand, “I’d go see what he wants or he’ll just keep yelling.”

Mulder disappeared into the kitchen and when he didn’t return after 5 minutes, Scully went to investigate. She found him, Dave, Charlie and all the kids sharing two very large chocolate chip cookies. The entire lot of them turned in unison and wore the same guilty look at which Scully laughed, “you could have at least invited me. I’m starving.”

“We needed sustenance and girls tattle.” Looking down at his daughter, Charlie whispered, “really, it’s just your Aunt Dana.”

“That’s true. Did I ever tell you about your dad …”

“Just get over here, eat your cookie and shut it.”

Reaching her hand over the crowd, “make sure there’s chocolate in my piece.”

Maggie caught them a few moments later but by then, all evidence was gone, crumbs picked up with licked thumbs and chewing finished, swallowing proceeding as Maggie opened the swinging kitchen doors, “what are you all doing in here very quietly?”

12 people said, once again in unison, “nothing.”


Knowing a mom going after the most vulnerable, he looked her square in the eye, “nothing.”

She squinted in their direction, “I can smell the guilt and it smells like chocolate.” They all stood their ground, even the four-year old, until Maggie just smiled, “get out of my kitchen unless you want to help me chop things.”


Dinner, once everyone was arranged and Graham was sitting beside Mulder, Hannah on his other side, went smoothly. There were stories and jokes and spontaneous off-key Christmas carol singing.

Mulder also got himself a cheekful of potatoes from Scully, who reached over Hannah to do it, “what was that for?”

“Inauguration. No one gets out of Christmas without potatoes.” Nodding towards Sarah, Dave’s wife, “she got an earful her first Christmas. Be thankful it was only your cheek.”

Joanna spouted off, “I got it in the nose so be extra happy about your cheek.”

“These things, Scully, that I didn’t know and will make you pay for later on are astounding.”

Maggie cut them off, laughing, “so help me, if I have another holiday food fight in this kitchen, I take back all my presents.”

Charlie slowly put his loaded spoon down.

So did Bill.


Everyone but Mulder, Scully and Maggie were either asleep or already on their way back home by nine that night and as Scully let out her third yawn in less than five minutes, Mulder nudged her knee, “ready to go? I still have to drive home after we get to your place.”

With a nod, she stood, swaying slightly, “you awake enough to drive my car?”

“Sure.” Giving Maggie another tight hug, “thank you so much for everything. I’ve never … I just … I’ve had the greatest time.”

Squeezing him back, “you are welcome anytime, Fox, never forget that.”

Once on the front porch with the door shut and locked behind them, Mulder stopped her, putting down their bags of gifts and leftovers. Giving her her own hug, then light kiss on her rosy, chapped lips, “there was Mistletoe hanging over the front door but I waited until we dind’t have an audience in case you hit me.”

Guffawing out a frozen chuckle, she shifted up on her toes and kissed him back, close-lipped and quick, “I’d never hit you for kissing me under the Mistletoe, Mulder. Believe me.”

As he opened her door, “Hand. Down. Best. Day. Ever.”

My Husband, Kim JunMeow

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter o1. Kim JunMeow

I hate cats.  Cats are atrocious, selfish little monsters who leave your costly business attire looking like you slaughtered a bear and your airways choking of fur balls.  

“What do they even do?  Eat, sleep, poop.  Repeat.”

“Luxury life, you jelly?” my cat lover friend, Lila, clicks her pen against my temple and jeers.

“Pftt.  Of their smelly butts?  Why would I be?” I roll my eyes and collected my Chemistry textbooks from the library table.

“You’re just hating.  Cats are the cutest most cuddly creatures in this world,” she exaggerates with clasp hands against her cheeks and eyes that almost bulge out in animated hearts.

I shiver just thinking about all the entrapped saliva nestled in their fur.  My friend scoffs and begins to pack her bags as well.  It is the last semester of college and the last thing I want is to go to class but the last thing I could afford is to not go to class.  

“The world out there is your cat!” the dork leaps onto her feet and exclaims.

I smack my textbook shut in her face and amusingly correct, “You mean oyster??”  She grimaces from the intrusive breeze and pouts.  “'The world is your oyster’, it means we are all in the position to take opportunities life has to offer.”

The cherubic faced female raises her brow.

“…Because you can’t get the pearl without grinding and prying open the shell.  Some people settle for comfort and pick tiny, easy to open ones and end up with a dull rock.  Others choose to take the road less travelled, pick the biggest oyster, hammer, tear, and groove it until the mollusk reveals the flawlessly shiny one-of-a-kind pearl,” I recite with so much genuine poetic passion that I almost think I’m auditioning for a Shakespearean play.  I’d like to think Shakespeare would be proud of me.  

“No.  I did mean, ‘The world out there is your cat.’  Cats are priceless.  Pearls are not,” Lila counters.

I smack my face with my palm.  “I seriously hate cats,” I grunt under my breath.

“Well, don’t tell me I didn’t tell you, you’re gonna marry a cat one daaaay~” she singsongs.

“No, thank you, you crazy cat lady~” I play along and sing back as I skip my way through the library exit and wave goodbye to my dear friend.  

Books snuggled tightly against my chest, I slug my way to the lab to make up my Chemistry report. I had flunked it twice and it is my last chance if I didn’t want to spend my entire summer back here.

“Meow,” I hear a short purr from the bushes and skid to a stop.  “Meow~” the creature calls out to me.  Only its large circular eyes are visible from behind the shadows.  With a sharp inhale and wide-eyed with realization that said-smelly fur ball monster is right in front of me, I snap my neck to the other side and speed walk away.  

Meow >:(,” the abandoned cat grunts and scampers back into the alley.  


“Ahh, I think I failed again,” I groan and blow concentrated air up at my now messy bangs.  Oh, woe, little miss damsel in distress who can’t seem to get the right amount of sulfite into the beaker or set the thermometer to beep at boiling point.

“What am I going to do with my life?” I dramatize and deflate.  “Should I start bribing the TA?” I mumble under my breath and anxiously bite my nails as I eye myself head to toe at the glass reflection of the campus building.  Hair disheveled and unwashed for three days, dark bags under my eyes, and jeans only God knows how long I haven’t washed for.  Life of a college science student~  What life.  WHAT LIFE?!?!  Even a rich geezer would steer far away, much more the young, handsome, and intelligent TA, Kim Jongdae.  Puffs of happy stars and fluttering butterfly hearts twirl in front of me at the thought of my crush’s kitten smile.  

“He likes cats, you know that right?” Lila’s knowing advice replays in my mind and my shoulders slump.  

“No, not even for him, I wouldn’t—“ I start but my voice trails in projection at the sight of the twin glowing eyes reflected on the window.  Slowly, I turn around to come face to face with a white cat.  His luscious fur almost illuminates like holographic magic in the dead of the night.  

“GAHHH!” I shrill and run to hide behind a street lamp post.  

The feline’s marble-like eyes follow me with a striking intensity.  And from the bluish onyx hue, I instantly recognize it to be the same cat from before.  He approaches me, one paw at a time as I cower farther and farther behind my makeshift barricade, that really didn’t protect me much at all.  It’s a good placebo though.

“Wait, placebos are used in the context of medication, you Pabo,” I grumble to myself.  Ah, distress, pure distress of a science major who was too much of a chicken to spend eight years in Med school yet whose brain is wired in a way of a medical dictionary.  Oh woe, me.

“Meow!” the cat’s snappish call wakes me up from my own pessimistic thoughts.  

“Do-don’t get near me!” I order but the cat continues to advance, stopping right in front of me.  His fluffy paw lifts and he places it on the tip of my foot.  I hold my breath and almost lose my breath from anxiety.  Alright, alright.  I admit it, I have Ailurophobia a.k.a the irrational fear of cats.  It’s not that I hate them I just…  

“G-go…” I stutter.  The beautiful feline tilts his head and gazes up at me with a glint in his twinkling eyes.  “D-don’t make me kick you…” I make a false threat and wobble my foot that he had his palm placed on, hoping he would just let go.  

Instead, he places his other paw down too.  “Meow~”

“Stop,” I strictly say.  

“Meow :(“ his purr betrays his hurt.  Innocently, the kitty snuggles his entire body closer and settles down by using both of my feet as his cushion.  He looks up with puppy eyes…only, well…puppy eyes on a cat…yah…you know what I mean…I digress…He looks up with puppy eyes as if waiting for me to reject him but hoping I wouldn’t.

“Stop.  Don’t give me that look,” I frown, “I’m not taking you home.”  

Without letting him reply, I slide my feet backward to freedom.  The cat plops back down onto the concrete floor.  Frowning, I pull the straps of my backpack and start to walk home.  It is already past 11pm, which meant lingering any longer would be dangerous.

I take a step forward.  

“Meow~” the kitty whines, trailing my steps.  He swirls and twirls his way between my two feet and looks up with pure anticipation.  Again, I try to detach myself from this fur ball monster wearing a cute angelic face as a disguise.  He latches on with both paws around my right ankle.  I groan.

“Look kitty…there’s a bunch of cat lovers around here,” I explain with exasperation.  Pointing straight down the street, I persuade, “If you continue down this road and make two lefts and see a peach brick house, stop and meow loudly, a crazy cat lady will take you in.”

“Meow :(“ he grunts and lowers his head.  He licks his front paws and then looks up at me again.  

“Her name is Lila and she’s a little weird but she’s very caring and would adore you…” I elaborate.  “So go on your way…” I shoo and start to walk again.  Again, he follows.  I skid to a stop and try to persuade him again.  This happens for another half an hour before I give up and just head home pretending there isn’t a clingy feline tailing me.  

In front of my house, I try to distract the cat as best as possible so I could unlock the door, slip in, and slam it before he could follow me in but he holds onto my legs and begs in meows.  It is a bit chilly tonight and soft drizzles only showed potential to turn into a heavy rain storm.  Momentary hesitation equals an opportunity for the fluff ball.  He squeezes through the door gap and dashes into my apartment.  Groaning, I toss my head back in resignation.  

“It really isn’t the time for this…” I heave and head in as well.  Too tired from the day of studying and testing and failing and trying to get rid of a cat, I end up just plopping down onto the sofa.  Arms outstretched wide and head thrown back, I think about surrendering and being a cry baby for one day.  You know, the possibility of not graduating in time is quite daunting even if it does sound like #firstworldproblems.  On the other hand, unlike me, this cat curiously wanders around and makes himself at home.  

“Well, I’m tired, Kitty.  I’m calling it a night.  You be good and I’ll drop you off at the animal shelter tomorrow morning, okay?” I bargain.  

Lethargically, I drag myself to my room and toss my dead weight against the bed.  Soft whimpers fleet from my lips.  I snuggle my way into my blanket cocoon.  Flying sheep are seconds from sending me to sweet slumber when I feel a furry paw against my nose.  My eyes shot open.

“No. Stay on floor,” I discipline, lift the bad boy up, and put him onto the ground.  I roll back into my comfy bed…only seconds later, I feel a soft tug against my blanket.  My lips part and I gather up the last of my patience to scold the little monster, when I notice its choppy tugs.  He had grabbed onto the corner of my blanket with his teeth and was slowly pulling it to cover my shoulders.  My expressions soften without my permission.  When he finally deems it a good job tucking me in, the amicable creature leaps back down to the floor and tries to build his own warm bed by curling his tail around his body.  So innocent and vulnerable.  A tinge of guilt penetrates through my heart.  

“You want a blankie?” I question, my voice a little gentler than before.  

The cat surprises me by shaking his head, as if fully comprehending my question.  Chewing on my inner cheek, I spring up, grab a cushion from my chair, and place it on the floor next to him.

“You can use it as a bed.”

Again, he shakes his head.  I frown.

“The floor’s extra cold tonight because of the rain outside…” I observe but the feline tilts his head and doesn’t make the move to accept my offer.

Sighing, I inquire, “You want a towel or a soft t-shirt or a plushie to snuggle with?” I look around my room for some cat-friendly items.  That’s when I squint and notice the leather band around his neck.  "Oh, hey…you have a collar.  Are you not a stray?” I kneel down and observe the pendant.  Sadly, the age and rust of the metal tampers much of the information’s legibility.  

Kim Su—

Instead of answering my question, he wraps his paws around my arm, tugs me closer, and tries to nestle on my lap.  I toss my head back and groan at this troublesome cat.  “I should just toss you out,” I grumble under my breath.

As if understanding my words, the cat instantly lets go of my arm.  His eyes glosses over and he melts against the floor as if sulking.  

“I was only joking!” I quickly back track.  "It is pouring cats and dogs outside, I’m not that heartless…” I reassure and somehow instinctively outstretch my palm to pet him on the head.  He likes it very much, much more than I had imagined.  With a long sigh, I scan my bed.  “You want to climb on the bed?”

The corners of his lips curl up and he jumps up and down with joy.  Chuckling, I surrender and hop onto the bed.  He follows suit.

“Stay at the foot of the bed,” I half-heartedly instruct with a yawn.  The white fluff obediently stays at the spot for about two minutes, before he sneaks his way toward my shoulder.  “I said, ‘Foot…of…the…bed…’” my voice slurs due to my sleepiness.  Dozing in and out, I recall him nestling comfortably at the croak of my neck.  Automatically, my body cuddles around the warm guest, who lays the final magical touch to my sweet dreams.


My tongue smacks against the top of my mouth palate as I half-consciously try to moistens the dryness.  Whimpering, I roll around in my sheets, hoping to stretch out my sore muscles before the alarm clock shrills anxiety back into my life.  One more satisfying stretch and I open my eyes to a good morning—

“AHHH!” I shriek at the sight of a stranger sleeping beside me.  Automatically, my body chooses flight over fight; I back away so hastily, my body crashes from the bed onto the floor.  The chaotic noise awakens the man.  

Long lashes flutter open.  His movements are fluid and graceful as he rolls out his shoulders and sits himself upright on my bed.  He stares at my astonished state with the tilt of his head and several innocent blinks.  Heaving air back into my frightened lungs, I reflexively lift the blanket from my body and look down.  Just a thin cami and PJ pants, not naked.  Not naked.  Whew.

“So nothing happe—“

The young man stands up, letting his blanket fall fluidly down his broad chest, chiseled abs, and…

My eyes widen and lips drop agape.  Heart pound against my chest.  Front row seats to Magic Mike would be an understatement.  The foreign male stands there, completely oblivious to my bewilderment.  He starts to advance toward me, inch by inch.  I almost choke myself to death by swallowing the lump in my throat.  

“Wh-wuh…who…who are you?!” I panic, scoot myself backward, and recoil against the wall.  He stops a foot from me with his exposed manly goods literally, right in front of my face.  My eyes bulge.  I swallow again, my head starts to spin.  Mouth opens wide - out of shock, I SWEAR out of shock, you dirty minded readers.    

Just then, I hear keys jiggle outside from the front door.  My name rings from the familiar voice of my mother.  Gasping, I turn to the man, who turns back to me with a blank stare.  Maniac panic ensues.  Footsteps click against my wooden living room floor.  Jerking up to my feet, I grab onto the man’s wrist, yank him, and throw him on the bed.  The sheets are tossed on top of him.

“Hey, Sweetie—“ my mother pushes open the door of my room and greets but immediately could smell the fishie fishiness.  

Nervously, I try to cover up my scandalous act and the very visible random lump on my mattress by literally sitting on top of it and pretending it’s all cushion.  Immediately, I regret such decision as I had so coincidentally place my bum right on his manhood.  It throbs through the sheets against my left back thigh and I have to bite my lower lip to keep calm.  

“Hi, Mum…heh…” I nervously ruffle my hair.

“Why do you look so guilty?” she narrows her eyes.  

“Oh-oh…N-no..not at all.”  Needless to say, I fail at my pursuit of a Degree in Deception.  My hiccup attack, thereafter, doesn’t help much either.  “Ju-just…hic-  Just sur hic- prised you came to vi hic- sit without notice…heh…”  No slick, what so ever.  

Nothing I do passes my mother’s eyes.  The sharp and observant female charges into the room, shoves me aside, and throws the cover away.  I shriek; my arms outstretch out of reflex.  Thankfully, the handsome sexy…no…focus…man gripped onto the covers before she exposed his lower region.

My full name bellows from my mother’s lips and I’m clawing my hair coming up with an excuse to cover up my possible one-night stand and not get ass-whipped by the conservative Catholic woman.  Growing up, I was taught that sex before marriage was not allowed.  

“Who is he?!” the furious woman interrogates as she takes note of how scantily clad I am too.  She sniffs the room as if trying to gather evidence of the shameful act.  Automatically, my hands lift up in a pose of surrender, though I had no intention to actually admit to her suspicions.  The gorgeous man across from me gazes in my direction with an innocent stare and a sweet, honeyed smile that contradicts his sexy Devil’s bodayyy.  I spend a moment too long ogling over his features that my mother snaps at me again.    

“I-uh…I…” Beads of tears start to coat my lashes.  

“You have some explaining to do, Young Lady.  I’m calling your father!” the middle-aged woman warns and starts punching numbers on her phone.

“No-no…MUM…” I choke.  Squeezing my eyes shut, my lips automatically move on their free will, “He’s my husband!”  

The phone drops from my mother’s hand.  Internationally, I face palm.  Really?!  That was the worse possible damage control ever.  The attractive man blinks.  He gifts me another sweet smile when he catches my gaze.  Immediately, I look away because I tell myself I can’t be entranced or horny right now with my outraged tiger mom in front of me.    

With the twitch of her brows, the older female laces my name with full warning and seethes through her teeth, “We need to talk.”  I swear my butt crack began to perspire.  

Gulping hard with panic, I glance at the mysterious man as if begging for help, only not really expecting it.  You know, like, what could he really do?  I didn’t even know where he came from for God’s sake.  Was I drunk?  Is this a dream?  I didn’t like the latter thought because I’ve been so dry and thirsty that the wetness of my panties causes ecstasy in my boring life and the thought that I had to possible wake up from it is quite unfortunate.  Priorities, much?  It’s only worth it if I don’t first get strangled by my own mother.  At my stagnancy, the older woman scans my pretend husband and scoffs at the black collar-like choker around his neck.  

I squint.  Wait…I’ve seen that…somewhere—

It’s the third time my full name rips from her throat and I know I’m in the deepest trouble I’ll ever be in.  Wiping my clammy hands against my pants, I turn to my mother and begin to push her out the door.  Blundering words escape my lips, “I’m sorry mom, I’ll explain.  I’ll call you later!  I swear!”  

“You got married?!” she shrills in disbelief.  

“Yes.  I mean No.  I mean…Yes…”  What has gotten into me?  I must be out of my damn mind or otherwise possessed.  Closing my eyes shut, I continue to direct her toward the door.

“You got married and did not tell your father or me?!” the woman scolds and then heaves, “How long have you even known that man?!  Do you know his character?!  What if he’s a stripper?  What is his name?!  I’m going to have your father investigate him!”

“Uh-I…I’ll tell you later.  Mum, can you leave first?” I nervously plea.

“Give me a name or I’m not leaving!” the female adamantly states.

Ah, stress.  STRESS.  Just as I am brainstorming a list of fake names to use, the strange male walks out with a blanket tied around his hip, and answers, “My name is Kim JunMeow.”  

A/N: Yo! I’m back (≚ᄌ≚) Did you guys miss me?  Did you enjoy the first chapter of the new series?  This is probably the only “slower” paced chapter because I had to introduce the situation but chapters here on after are fast-paced and eventful ;);) Also, do you guys like my sassy tone more or my more artistic/poetic writing?  Do share your opinions!

P.S. For the record, cats are my favorite animals in this entire world, surpassing even pandas + bunnies, and you guys know I love the latter two.  

Follow, like, comment, spam my inbox to motivate me.  Daily updates; see you tmr.

>>My Husband, Kim JunMeow Archive<<

>>Story Master Archive<<

Any guesses on what happened in this chapter??

squashedmandarins  asked:

Hellooo! So I had this idea that I have in my head about Tobio's S/O playing Mysme and him being surprisingly okay with her playing it and I would really love it in a scenario!! I just found ur blog and ur writing seems really amazing I had so ask! Thank you so much for ur amazing writing. Please keep up the good work!!💙

For some reason, I listened to Last Christmas in order to write this. Yeah, I don’t get me either. I entered a really chill state of mind trying to come up with this, so I hope it comes across! And doesn’t seem like I just did this willy nilly. Anyway, I hope you like it!

“Is that-” Kageyama leans over the mess of pillows that surround you on the bed, his feet pressing against the edge of his desk so precariously that a light push would tip him over entirely. You notice none of this. “Is that a picture of me?”

“Wha- who?” You answer with your head tilted towards your fiance, but your eyes are permanently glued to the phone’s screen. “You’re on my screensaver, yeah.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He kicks off the table. You jump at the dull thud when the chair hits the floor, and everything around you bounces when Kageyama collapses on the other side of the pillow barricade. Reaching out a finger from a strange body position, he hovers over your screen. “I saw a picture just now. Are you chatting with someone? Did you send my picture to them?”

That makes you put down your phone. “You don’t sound too bothered by it, if it were?”

“I’m not unattractive.”

Keep reading

The Last

Originally posted by jjks

When you began dating him, you knew that your relationship with Min Yoongi would not be easy. While he had many good qualities (talented, brilliant, kind, gorgeous; you name it, he probably was it), he also had qualities that made him human. And as much as you loved him and everything about him, you couldn’t help feeling bothered by some of the qualities that only came into play when he was stressed.

You understood what you were getting yourself into when you began dating Yoongi. You’d been friends for a few years before the actual relationship started and you knew how he could get. But dealing with a stressed, upset Yoongi as a friend was much different than dealing with him as a significant other.

And as much as you wanted to say that you could, you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

Keep reading

From Under the Ground (1/1)

Summary: The year is 2152, eighty-five years after the world’s devestating nuclear war.  Killian Jones is a scribe for a not-quite-so-very-legal excavation (read: scavenging) team.  In which he discovers a stash of audio logs that he believes are from the 2080’s, and finds himself rather enamored with the voice of a woman called Swan.

Rated: T

Warnings: Language

Words: ~13k

Notes: Inspired by this post.  Title borrowed from this song.  Much love to @seastarved​ for beta-ing this mess!

Also on ff and ao3

Red Hook, 4 May 2152, 8:00AM

At precisely eight in the morning, as he notes in his log, Killian Jones stands just outside his home on the edge of camp. It’s not much, a cottage of sorts – or a shack, really, compared to the homes he’s seen in books from years past – but it’s home and work nonetheless. He’d even managed to put a coat of paint on the slats, the sort of pale blue that reminds him of humid days on the coast, horizon pale behind the fog. He’d found the dented can of paint on one of his solo runs to a decrepit supermarket just across the river in Kingston. The label on the side, peeling and faded with time and war and the sort of forgetfulness brought on by both, had assured him only one coat would put his home in a brilliant shade of forget-me-not, whatever the bloody hell that meant. The can had given his Geiger counter a bit of trouble, much to David Nolan’s displeasure, suggesting the paint inside was a just a bit irradiated –

Jones, you’re going to irradiate yourself straight to hell.”

The expression, I believe, is no one asked you, Dave.”

Keep reading

Bye Bye Brooklyn Boys (9)

Originally posted by rossmundpike


Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader

Warnings: This is just so sad. Language.

Word count: 2.730

Summary: Bruce gives you some great advice and you finally make the trip back home.

September, October, November , December,

January , February, March,  April

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

\\(///∇///✿)// i'm so excited the ask box is open !! would you please be able to write a scenario with zen & an insecure s/o ? like zen is always giving compliments & flirting, but reader doesn't really believe in any of it & he finds out ? does that make sense, if not, then please feel free to disregard it !!

Could you possibly write a request with Zen and a chubby MC? Where she’s really insecure about herself/being with him? Could be fluffy or nsfw, I don’t mind either c: Thank you so much, you three are amazing and I love your writing. I can’t wait to see what else comes out of this blog! Have a great day!

oh boy oh boy some of this hit close to home

“You’re so beautiful, ____…”


That was the ninth time he’d complimented you today. You glanced at the clock - eleven past ten in the morning. No one would sincerely compliment someone that much. Never. Especially not you. You let him say what he wanted; if he wanted to call you beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, it didn’t really matter all that much… But as his compliments grew in frequency and intensity, you couldn’t help but feel irritated. He wasn’t even trying to be genuine anymore.

Keep reading

I've Been Here Before

This was supposed to be part of a longer story, but between work shenanigans and everything else these past few weeks, my muse is hiding. So here is a small pick me up for everyone, because we all need it. I’ve a few more drabbles floating around that I’ll try to post.

Caroline wasn’t exactly bored, per se, but she found herself floundering. Usually her winters were spent lounging on a beach, enjoying cocktails and the sun on her skin. Winter Wonderland was only really fun in theory, and rarely for more than a week.

In the three years since she’d caved to Bonnie’s quiet pressure to be closer and settled in New York City, she’d never stayed past the first blistering cold snap. NYC was as close as she’d allow herself to settle to Mystic Falls, her adamant refusal to involve herself in any Salvatore stupidity required space to maintain. She wasn’t quite so young anymore, had lingering emotional scars to show for it, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.

She’d fallen in love with New York City in the Fall, and it remained her favorite season. Pumpkin spice, changing leaves, and air just chilly enough to get away with cute scarves and cuter boots. Halloween was a fun rush of costumes and blood, the supernatural community enjoying the chance to let a little fang and fur out. Usually, she was packed up and gone, long before the first Christmas lights were strung.

But that year, she’d found herself waffling.

Something about the winter chill had her lingering, and it wasn’t loneliness that kept her feet rooted to US soil. Caroline had spent part of her summer with Bonnie, chatted with her on a weekly basis. But as Thanksgiving rolled around, she contemplated possible tickets and travel plans, and found herself staying put.

She baked her grandma’s pumpkin pie receipt for the first time in decades. She’d spent a amusing day cooking over Skype with Bonnie, complaining about potatoes and turkey brining. Made faces at an assortment of grand babies and her nieces and nephews.

Now, the first real snow flurries hissed softly against her windows and she felt restless. She’d attempted to book flights to Barcelona three times that afternoon, thoughts of her favorite Tempranillo dancing in her head and somehow, she hadn’t managed it. It wasn’t due to financial concerns. Those Finance classes she’d been stupidly bored in had been useful, and the occasional tip dropped by older vampires she’d met around had been more so.

So why wasn’t she currently sprawled on a beach, eyeing the nearest cabana boy as desert?

Closing her laptop in frustration, Caroline headed for her jacket. She’d never done well with indecisiveness, and her apartment was starting to feel suffocating. Dinner and wine might clear her head, maybe a walk to burn off her jitters.

A little tipsy from a few of her favorite stops, she stared up at lights on the tree at Rockefeller Square. Closing her eyes to hide the pretty Christmas tree lights, Caroline resigned herself to popping into Mystic Falls for the Christmas. Bonnie had grudgingly allowed her solitude on Thanksgiving, but there was no avoiding the Bennett Family during Christmas if she was stateside.

Which meant she’d have to see Damon.

God, she could already imagine how those comments would go. He’d never forgiven her for refusing to help find a way to bring Elena, and Caroline refused to apologize for encouraging her friend to live. The antagonization between them had shifted into a razored dislike, and Caroline was looking forward to the day she never had to see him again.

Caroline hadn’t talked to Stefan is years. Last she’d heard he was somewhere in Canada, tucked away in the wilderness. She’d wondered if he’d found what needed, surrounded by caribou and wolves. But Stefan wasn’t her emotional weight anymore, hadn’t been for decades, and Caroline had no intention of bridging the gap between them.

Some scars healed slower than others.

Buried in her thoughts, she missed the sounds of a growing commotion, right up until someone in a hurry clipped her. Stumbling, she hissed as her boot slipped on the thin layer of slush, ankle turning sharply. Off balance, she nearly ended up on her ass when the party chasing the previous jerk slammed into her as well. Instinctively, her hands reached for anything to stop her tumble and she grabbed a fistful of jacket.

Somehow, they stayed upright, even as she head threads pop.

She’d have felt bad about it, but he’d ran into her. Glaring up, angry words on the tip of her tongue, she froze in shock as she took in a very familiar face. The nearby street vendors buried his scent beneath an assortment of cooked meat, but the feel of him was unmistakable.

He wasn’t looking at her, gaze flecked with gold as he reflexively moved to shift her impatiently to the side, jaw tight and eyes hunting sharp. Caroline’s fingers went lax, and he shockingly murmured a clipped apology, clearly tracking the ass who’d rammed her. With her jacket and hat, he hadn’t recognized her, and he froze as she stammered out his name.


Keep reading


Imagine Dwalin being insulted because you took a hit for him.
Imagine Dwalin being very protective of you while on the quest because he believes you are his One.

A thank you to @little-red-83 and @tolkienswiggityswag for helping me with my writer’s block.

“What do you think you were doing back there, lass?!” Dwalin yelled as you finally came to a halt among the cluster of trees.

“What are you talking about?” You asked through your pants as you leaned on your ax.

“You!” He stepped towards you as he jabbed his thick finger through the air towards you and you could hear the heavy footsteps of the Company as they neared through the trees, “Getting y’self between me and an orc! You must be mad, girl!”

“How many times must I tell you not to call me that, you stubborn old ox!” You shot back as you stepped closer with your own fury boiling in your stomach, “Besides, had I not the sense to do so, you would not be here shouting at me like the bullheaded dwarf you are!”

“Oh?! Then perhaps you would’ve been better to have let them split my skull,” He nearly roared through his dark beard, “Save yourself the blood.”

You glanced down at the crimson seeping through the shoulder of your cloak and gritted your teeth, bringing your wrathful gaze back to the dwarf before you.

Keep reading

Story in response to y-annah’s bullied Lance Anon

Lance had had enough, sure he knew he had those moments where he deserved to be yelled at, but today had taken the cake. First, he walked into the breakfast hall and over heard everyone laughing about him. Then they had a mission and he apparently was doing everything wrong.

      He didn’t mean to throw off Voltron with his kick! If he didn’t kick though, Pidge would have been blasted dead on but did they see that before all of them tore into him with reprimands? No, so after an hour of being disciplined, reamed, yelled at, glared at etc here he was. Sitting in blue pouring out his frustrations, and feelings out to what he considered his protector. His lion was always there to listen to him when this happened, heaven knows this is NOT the first time he has had to do this before he broke down in front of everyone. His room was a non safe space since anyone could come in at any time. The first time he came in blue to rant he was surprised to feel his lion responding to him. So knowing that he had someone he could confide in he told her EVERYTHING, from his nightmares on earth, his insecurities that his teammates somehow always pick on, what they said to him that tore deep and stung, how he was made fun of that day and how it hurt so bad but he couldn’t let it show. The cockpit glowed softly with calming shades of blue as Lance choked back another sob.

“You’re going to get us all killed!, How can you be so arrogant!, You need to think!, We can’t trust you if you keep doing this,  You’re so stupid!, Why can’t you be more responsible!, You’re lucky the blue lion even chose you, it could have chosen anyone…. I’ve had enough Blue!” He felt blue vibrate with what he identified with anger and sadness as he quoted what was said to him so many times before.

“I thought being made fun of would stop when I was taken here by you Blue… worst part is… they don’t even know they’re doing it. I mean I can’t even say ‘hey that jab actually hurt guys’ because I would just be called out as trying to get attention! I don’t want it! It’s not my fault that I tried a move that saved us all but also got us blasted back and ended up getting reamed out by everyone because I’m apparently so immature, irresponsible, stupid, dangerous and whatever else they want to call me… Blue …. I just want it to stop. I’m tired of being made fun of… I just.. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this whole tough guy, uncaring act it hurts.” He leaned his head back into the corner and curled up even tighter. The cockpit gently filled with warmth and colors that made Lance smile as he closed his eyes. He curled tighter as he felt himself begin to drift off.

“Hey Blue… We have training tomorrow… wake me up will you?” The cockpit vibrated again and he smiled letting himself drift off into dreams. Unbeknownst to him his Lion’s eyes glowed darkly as it barricaded it’s entry hatches. No one, was getting to her paladin, she was going to protect him if it was the last thing she did.


         The next morning found everyone staring in confusion at the blue lion. It refused to leave the hangar bay. The moment they tried to open the hatch doors it tossed them away and began growling at them. When Allura tried to forcefully open them by override commands the Lion roared, loud enough that they had to take cover from the waves pushing them back. Allura sighed,

“Well nothing is working, We know Lance is in there because he responded when we said we had training. But I don’t understand why the Blue Lion is refusing to leave it’s hanger! It even refused to let Lance out of itself!” 

      They tried talking to Lance through the coms but even he sounded… off. It was like he didn’t mind blue not leaving her hanger, or didn’t mind that she wasn’t letting him out. Sure the blue lion was protective of her paladin, but to be this protective? Something was not right at all, Lance wasn’t injured and wasn’t in mortal danger. So the fact that his lion was on lockdown puzzled them all, not even Coran who had left to go find a solution knew why Blue was acting this way.

         An hour later Shiro closed his eyes and sighed as he figured out why the blue lion was being so overprotective of Lance. It made sense to him now, the hurt flashing in blue eyes as they looked away, Lance’s disappearances these past few weeks, the sudden silence that came over Lance when they poked fun at him. Shiro stepped forward and raised his hands in a placating gesture when the blue Lion stared at him and growled lowly.

“Lance, Buddy… Listen, I’m sorry about poking fun at you. I never meant for you to feel hurt about any of it Lance, yes you have your moments where I want to slap some sense into you. But I also know that you did what you did in those battles because you were trying to protect us. I want to make it right with you Buddy, so can you please come out?”  

       Allura stared at Shiro in confusion before she felt her eyes widen. How could she have been so stupid! Of course what they said about Lance would hurt him! They never seemed to talk about his good aspects, about what he did right in battles against the Galra. They only ever seemed to talk down on him, berating him for his actions, poke fun at his faults. She stepped forward.

“Lance! I am also sorry, I’m sorry I never realized how much we hurt you with what we said! You are a fantastic paladin Lance, no one could replace you… I also never told you the true definition of the Blue Lion. While the Blue Lion is the most accepting of the Lions, it also only chooses those it deems worthy of being it’s paladin, it only chooses one that has heart. It wouldn’t have chosen you if it didn’t find you worthy Lance, know that!”  At this Pidge stepped forward with Hunk.

“Lance, while you may be an insufferable idiot at times I still respect you. You’re a good pilot, and a good friend so please come out?” Hunk nodded his agreement.

“Lance please come out! I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend lately, I didn’t mean to make fun of you to the point that it hurt. I thought it didn’t bug you if we jabbed a bit. You’re my best friend man, and you mean a lot to me so please come out.” Everyone paused as the Blue Lion stopped growling and only turned it’s harsh gaze towards Keith who was biting his lip. They all looked at him and gestured towards the huge lion that looked like it was about to bite him, if they could bite. Keith sighed and stepped forward.

“Lance… While I may not like you-” The Lion growled lowly and Keith quickly held his hands up.

“Wait! While I still find you a… idiot. You are..” He felt Shiro jab his side.

“Fine.. You’re a good pilot, and a good teammate. I’m sorry for always making fun of you and yelling at you.” After Keith’s arguably pathetic apology the Lion raised it’s head and seemed to be talking to it’s paladin. Finally, the hanger doors opened and a tentative head peaked out. Lance didn’t really know what to think, he was confused but yet touched that Blue was protecting him so fiercely. He was also, dare he say it touched that his teammates even apologized to him. So when he slowly started to walk out of blue he was surprised at being nearly tackled by them all (except Keith who stood awkwardly off to the side.)  He felt a non human hand ruffle his hair.

“I’m sorry I only just figured out that what we were saying and how we were acting towards you hurt you this badly. Care to give us another chance Lance?” Lance felt Pidge nod from where she was anchored by his waist.

“Yeah, Please Lance?” Lance turned his blue eyes towards where Hunk looked like he was about to cry, and towards Allura who looked so guilty. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Keith staring at him with barely concealed hope in his eyes. Lance smiled and nodded, wrapping his arms around the bodies on him.

“Yeah… I’ll give you all another chance.. Besides… I forgave you all when Blue said she forgave you.” The rest stepped back and Shiro smiled.

“So Blue was the one who decided to lock herself down?” Lance chuckled awkwardly and nodded.

“Yep, she pretty much told me she wasn’t going to leave, or let me out until she deemed you all safe again.” Keith scoffed and gave a small smile.

“Figures, like Paladin like Lion.” As Keith walked away Lance stood in confusion.

“Hey what does that mean???”

“Figure it out!”


“Date Me :)”

There was a conflict in the Stanford dorms. Someone had started a prank war, and it was never ending. Sam Winchester would come home drunk and find Solo cups full of water in the hallway in front of his apartment. Other days he’d make the mistake of leaving his dorm keys with Charlie, and he’d come back to find literally everything covered in tin foil, even his underwear had been wrapped up and each sock individually. That was when he gave up pairing his socks. In retaliation, he, Jo and Ash had gone to the art dorms and covered the door handles of the possible culprits in superglue. This lead to buckets of water over the doors (how they’d gotten into their rooms he wasn’t sure.) and that in turn lead to airhorns being tied behind doors.

 The rivalry between the Arts and the Humanities dorms was something that’d been going on for years before Sam had come to Stanford, but it was certainly kept running with him there.Today was no different. He came home and found his bedroom seemingly empty. Then he looked at his bed.

 “Date me? :)” was spelt out in jelly beans. Sam laughed, plucking up a red one (thankfully not a cinnamon one) and chewed it. Obviously the dorm pranks were meant for him, someone was trying to impress him. He grabbed a piece of paper and in that second Sam Winchester made the biggest mistake of his life.

 I like musicals he wrote, before sticking the paper to the door. Moving the jelly beans into a cup, he changed into his pyjamas, yawning widely and glancing at his door. He wondered who it was who’d left him the jelly beans. He shrugged, fatigue taking him over and he curled up in his bed, falling asleep quickly. Sam’s mystery prankster left Ash’s room, snatching the note from the door. He beamed, and ran back into Ash’s room, waving the note.

Sam woke up to the sound of crashing and loud singing. Okay, what the hell. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. Maybe it was just some people playing ‘the floor is lava’ again. Then something piqued his interest. A quiet drum roll followed by a gentle synchronised tap. He sat up, hair a mess. He knew that opening.

 “Do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men?” He stood up, pulling on a shirt. He knew exactly what was going on.He opened the bedroom door and saw blankets, pillows, mattresses, chairs and tables stacked up at the end of the corridor, a floppy haired drama student was balanced at the top, makeshift flag waving as he beamed down at Sam.

 “It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again!” Sam sung back, as people from the other room began to leave their dorms, staring at the makeshift barricade stopping people from passing.

 “When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!” They sung together, and the sandy haired boy threw the flag down to Sam who caught it, a grin on his face. He handed the flag to Ash who was just standing there mouth open as the whole scene and he scrambled up the barricade to the top where he sung along to the song. As they finished, the sandy haired boy handed Sam a lollipop before putting one in his own mouth, eyes twinkling with glee.

 “So you’re the mystery prankster.” Sam said, raising his eyebrows. Charlie, Garth, hell even Castiel, but not this kid.

 “I’ll have you know Samski I am in fact the best damn prankster in Stanford.” He beamed, before teetering where he stood. Sam’s hands flashed to his waist, catching him, and pulling him flush against Sam. They both smiled.

 “I’m guessing you’re the one who left the jelly bean message.” He whispered, and the stranger took the lollipop from his mouth, tapping it on his own bottom lip slowly.

 “Indeed.” Sam leant down, carefully sucking the lollipop into his mouth, enjoying the shock in the smaller boy’s mouth. “They- they call me Gabriel.” He said quietly.

 “Sam.” He picked Gabriel up, before slipping off the barricade and into his room, kicking the door closed, Gabriel’s lollipop still in his mouth. Ash looked at Jo, and they both shrugged. Charlie crawled over the barricade, and stared at Sam’s door.

 “I’m not sure that’s how the play ends…” She said, as they all began to take down the barricade, as they guessed Gabriel was going to be busy for a while.

I think I found something horrible in a mine in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and whatever it is, it has my friend.

It’s hard to tell where to begin, so I’ll just begin with me, and my friend. We’re spelunkers. I don’t know if you could call us ‘professional’ spelunkers, but we’ve done some of the pretty insane things you see on National Geographic or Discovery or whatever. Y'know, like squeezing through caves hundreds of meters down in the darkness, or doing cave diving, where you put on scuba gear and go through flooded and underwater caves. I’ve seen some pretty breathtaking things, but nothing like what I’ve come to tell you about now.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m Collin, and my partner is Craig. We’re just twenty-somethings with crappy jobs who are always looking for a new 'fix’, a new place to discover. I think we were drawn to caves because, unlike mountains, nobody yet knows what’s the biggest challenge, or what’s the best cave. We all know about Carlsbad or Mulu, but unlike Everest or K2, we don’t know if Carlsbad is one of the biggest caves. You never know when you’re going to stumble onto the mega-Everest of caving, way deep down. That excitement sticks with you on every expedition, I promise, and it’s what keeps us coming back as often as we can. So, when Craig got a tip that some old Appalachian mines might lead to some insanely deep and undiscovered natural caverns, we knew we had to give it a shot. The caving community is very helpful, and a lot of people had been out there trying out other caves. Craig tracked down a mining ledger for a company that had been used in the 1890s. It detailed employees, locations, and yields, but what interested us what one shaft that had been closed due to 'mysterious circumstances’. Seriously, it said that shit on the paper. It’s in a town called Coalsborough, Pennsylvania, and I’m still in that shithole now, working with whatever passes for internet. All we knew going in is that nobody else reported ever caving there. We were excited to get the chance to be the first people down there in 120 years.

We shipped our gear ahead of us, flew out, rented a car then head out. It was dark, and chilly. A blanket of fog lay thick on the roads, so we couldn’t see more than fifty feet in front of us. Craig drove. I watched the streetlamps and headlights pass by like yellow ghosts in the mist. I’m not easily spooked, but as we slowed off the paved roads and got on the backwood dirt roads through the mountains, with black trees towering above us, I have to admit I felt a shiver go up my spine.

We go to Coalsborough sometime in the middle of the night. It was everything you’d expect from an Appalachian mining town that hadn’t had a mine for over a century. Only a few hundred surly people. We unpacked our things and headed to the only motel in town, a flickering 'vacant’ neon sign the only thing that guided us.

A frumpy woman managed the counter, looking half-dead herself. She didn’t greet us when we came in the door - just stared, with drooping eyes.

“We need a room,” Craig said helpfully.

“What for?” She asked roughly, even as she got a key from the (full) rack behind her.

“'Cause we want to sleep, lady,” I replied. Her face didn’t even register my smarm - which wiped the shit-eating grin off of mine. “We’re here to survey the mineshaft in town. It’d actually be great if you could give us directions to it?”

She looked between the two of us, as if thinking. “No,” she finally replied. “We teach our boys t'stay away from there. For good reason. Ain’t nobody’s gone down there that’s come back. Ain’t none. Two city-slickers don’t belong here. I’ll give you a room for free tonight, if you promise to high-tail it first light.”

Craig and I exchanged a look. “Listen, lady…” he began, leaning on the counter, but she cut him short.

“No, listen to me, fancy-pants. Every time a fellow goes down there, they don’t come back… and when they don’t, we hear this… howling.” She looked out the window. The light outside only illuminated a wall of fog, pressing up against the glass, as if it were listening to us. “Howling in them hills,” she whispered. “Howling, for hours. Days. Like the Devil'imself is torturin’ souls down there. I tell you what, there’s something down there. Something t'ain’t meant to be found.”

Craig put down his pack. Bless that mine, he has a way with words. Or lies. Whichever. “We’ll leave in the morning, Mrs…?” He flashed a charming smile. The ass.

“Floyd,” she said flatly. His charm was lost on her, but she gave us a key, and we even paid her for the room, despite her offer. Nobody can accuse us of being dishonest.

We flopped down onto the shitty retro mattresses from the 40s. “What’re we gonna do?” I asked, half to myself, half to Craig.

“We’re going in anyway,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m not gonna let hillbilly superstition keep me out. We already spent hundreds on the trip out here, man! Why wouldn’t we go in?”

I shrugged, looking at the yellowed ceiling and the feebly rotating ceiling fan. “Howling in the hills, I guess.”

Craig rolled onto his side. “C'mon, man, you didn’t buy Mrs. Loyd’s spiel, did you? That mine’s been closed for over a hundred years. Of course there are gonna be some ghost stories, but that’s just all the more reason to check it out. See what’s making the noises.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed. I didn’t mention the disappearances she had mentioned. Maybe she had made it up, maybe not. I didn’t want to believe her, but I felt something was wrong. Craig did not share my concerns. Maybe it was the fog, or the sad look she gave us when he promised we wouldn’t go. I think she knew he was lying. I think she knew we wouldn’t listen to her. I think, maybe we should have.

Keep reading

MC hangs out with her ex and all of the guys get jealous (KBTBB)

All of the bidders were currently playing a heated game of poker, when you walk into the room. You were dressed up to go out, wearing a simple yet flattering dress, some pumps and a cardigan. You has your hair down, and while your make up was minimal, you looked really good. Which immediately aroused the guy’s suspicion.

Usually, no matter where you went, the guys would usually always see you in more casual attire; our hair would usually be in a ponytail or a messy bun, you would always wear baggy jeans or sweatpants, and you would always be seen with trainers and a hoodie. You never abandoned your ‘comfy clothes’ which meant something was going on. “Hey pretty lady, where are you off to?”

“I’m just hanging around with a friend.”

“A ‘friend’?” Ota grinned.

“Well, he’s actually my ex, but we parted on good terms, so now we’re just friends, but we arranged to meet at a café to chat for a bit… What is it guys?” All of them had turned their attention to you rather than their cards, jealousy tinting their faces and hearts. While they wouldn’t ever admit it, they all had major crushes on you, and to hear you say that you were going to hang out with an ex immediately made their alpha male instincts kick in.

Baba was the first to cover it up with a smile, and everyone followed suite. “Well, I hope you have fun.”

“Thanks Baba! See you guys later!” You left the penthouse, and when you were gone, they all immediately turned to each other.

“Eisuke, do ya still have the-“

“Spy cameras? I’m getting them on screen now.” They turned to the motto, waiting for the system to load. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, it finally loaded, and you appeared on the screen. You were talking to your ex over some coffee, both of you leaning forward so you could hear each other better.

“Eisuke, turn up the sound, I can’t hear what Koro’s saying!” The artist whined. The sound was turned up, and they could hear you both more clearly now.

“You work as the penthouse maid?! Congrats, that sounds like a really good promotion!”

“Meh, it’s alright. The VIP’s can be fussy occasionally, but they mean well.”

“Sounds rough. You glad to take a break?”


“… You wanna go somewhere after this?”

“Hm, well I do have the whole day off, so yeah, why not?”

You both leave the café after you finish your drinks. Meanwhile, the bidders were watching with angered faces, their jaws clenched and hands balled into fists. They watched you all day, sightseeing, window shopping, strolling through the park, almost like a date. What was even worse was that you were completely oblivious to the flirtatious gestures your ex was making, like ruffling your hair, or holding your waist occasionally, which just antagonised the bidders even further. During the day, Mamoru and Soryu did a check on him. His name was Robert, he had a clean criminal record, worked as a photographer, about the same age as you, so he seemed okay- on paper anyway.

Your day out with your ex came to a close as you walked back to the hotel with him.

“Thanks for the day out. I really needed it.”

“Anytime. If those VIP’s give you any trouble, I’ll help you out.”

“Haha! Yeah, I’m sure you will.” He then leans in to give you a friendly hug, while the five men watching you stare at the screen like porcupines watching a horror movie. After the hug ends, you both part ways as you waved each other goodbye. Eisuke switches camera target so now they are watching your ex, and to their annoyance, he had a very smug look on his face. Eisuke and Soryu glance at each other, the same idea popping into their heads, and start grinning each other like little kids.

“What are smiling for Boss?”

“Yeah, both of you smirking at each other’s creeping me out.”

“Yeah, ya look real scary over there. What’re you guys up to?”

“Soryu, get your phone out. Guys, this is something we used to do in school if some nobody tried to give us grief. Just try not to laugh or you’ll ruin it.”

“Eisuke, it’s ringing.”

“Okay everyone, watch the screen.” They watched the screen as your ex picks up the phone and answers it.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hello Robert. I’m Mr Oh. I hear you’ve been hanging around _________ lately.” Soryu was using his cold, sinister mob boss voice as he talked to Robert on the phone.

“We’re just friends. And how the hell do you know _________?”

“Let’s just say I have my ways. Now, listen closely, because I will only say this once. If you see her again, look at her again, touch her again, and you will have nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. I will find you. And I will kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes.” At this point, all of them have seen Robert’s smug little face fall away as a look of sheer terror replaces it, his knees tremble, his eyes widen and sweat drips down his forehead, whereas the guys were desperately trying to hold back giggles, all of them were holding their mouths and their sides with red faces and tears in their eyes. Soryu hangs up, and they finally let out their laughter as they watched him sprint home and barricade his front door.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” You enter the penthouse, and the laughter instantly ceases. They have a mini panic before Eisuke quickly turns off the screen. They all pick up their cards again and pretend to look really into the game. “Geez, have you guys really been playing cards all day?!”

“I suppose so.” Eisuke says with a leisurely tone.

“How was your day, Koro?”

“It was really nice! I hope we hang out again at some point!” You wonder off as Mamoru mutters under his breath, “I don’t think you’ll see him for a long while, kid.” At this, the bidders just grin at each other and resume their game.

Cat and Mouse - Mikey Request

A/N: I kind of tried to do something like the request? but kind of mixed it up a little? idk but mad michael feels right now =} its just a quick read, super cute and fluffy 

You stop to check your makeup in the mirror one last time when you hear his voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mikey asks abruptly, sitting up in your bed.

You turn around to look at him, “Hey babe, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.. I was just about to go out shopping for a few hours with the girls.”

“Nope,” he said smiling, “you’re not allowed to leave.”

You giggle a bit at his puppy dog face, “You literally do this everytime you come back from tour Michael.”

“Yup,” he nodded his head, “And we’re not changing the routine now.”

You stomp your foot once playfully, “But baaaaabe you’re literally going to sleep for like a solid 24 hours I can’t lay in you’re death grip for that long, I need oxygen and sunlight, plus you’re asleep anyways whats it matter if I’m there.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Did you just refer to my cuddles as a death grip?”

You Place you fingers over your lips, trying to hide your laughter.

“You gotta stay,” he insisted, “I’ve been looking fowards to this for months, I need you here, in this bed right next to me, as close as you can get,” he insisted “I want to be able to smell your hair the entire time I’m asleep, so you can’t leave.”

You try to force your best frown, but its hard to deny him. “Are you going to yell at me when I accidently wake you up?”

“Nooo,” he answers quickly and you raise and eyebrow, “ughhh yes but you know I don’t mean it, sleepy me is grumpy sometimes.”

You scrunch up you’re nose, “But I realllllly wanted to buy this new pair of jeans I tried on the other day, they make my butt look sooo good I bet you’ll really like them.”

He forces a fake frown, “You canttttttt leaveeee meeee,” he whines, “plus you’re butt always looks cute, you don’t need new jeans to draw other guys attention to it.”

You walk over to him leaning down to where he is laying in the bed so that you’re face is just a few inches from his. “Fine,” you say be for giving him a soft peck, “But you have to catch me first.” Instantly you take off running out of the room and down the long hallway.

You realize Mikey isn’t far behing you when you finally get to the bottom of the stairs. “You think you’re quick, don’t ya?” he yelled cheekily from behind you. “Do you realize how much longer my legs are then yours?”

You look back over your shoulder to stick your tongue out him and almost run straight into a lamp. When you finally reach the dining room you are pitted at one end of the long table facing him at the other.

Every time he moves in your direction you move in the opposite one, you are both laughing hysterically at you’re little game of cat and mouse. Suddenly he throws one of the chairs down to the floor as a barricade and darts in your direction.

“AHHHH NOOOO,” you scream kicking you legs as he lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

“I win!” He chuckles as you continue to claw at his back, “bed, now!” he commands playfully once you reach the bedroom he plops you down onto your bed. Still laughing and out of breath you stare up at him.

“Are you gonna run again?” he asks eying you.

You bite your bottom lip in attempts to hide the huge smile spread across your face, “Nooo,” you claim shrugging your shoulders innocently.

“I don’t trust you,” he laughs before laying across your body.

You screech knowing you were helpless under his large body, “I’ll stay! I’ll stay!!” you laughe as you feel him pressing down on you.

“You gotta pinkey promise first,” he insists, letting his weight off you a bit to stick out his little finger to yours.

You’re laughing so hard that he has you pinned to the bed that its almost difficult to make you’re promise through gasping for air. “Babe,” you whine reaching out your pinky to his, “I pinky promise I will not leave the house until you are done hibernating.”

A wide grin spread across his face as he rolled over you, “That’s my girl,” he says nodding his head, “now come here.” He leans in pulling you close to him, into the choke hold he claims to be cuddles, “you smell nice” he mumbles as he presses his face into the top of your head.

You knew he was out cold right away, somehow the boy manages to fall into a deep sleep in like .5 seconds. It was an amazing talent of his, the ability to sleep at the drop of a hat. You moved your eyes about the room, knowing you would be stuck there for a long time, but you didn’t mind, this boy meant the world to you.  


Okay soo I wasn’t feeling creative enough tonight to add to the series I kind of started yesterday but wanted to post something and this just came to me as I was writing. Hope ya like it I though it was cute.. as always thanks for reading and feel free to drop anything into my ASK BOX i love love love hearing from you!!! p.s to the anon who requested .. I hope you like it!!!!!

Prompt 22

Prompt 22: Canon Divergent fic where the Quarter Quell never happens and Katniss and Peeta have to continue living their lives in front of the Capitol [submitted by Anonymous]

*Hope this isn’t too dark(ish) or too short. I’m probably going to make this into a longer fic because man I was getting really into this prompt and this is only a small portion of what I blabbered out!*

Rating: Teen Audiences and up

The silence of the barren home resounds around me. My hands, having nothing better to do, swirl the last dregs of tea leaves about in the long-chilled mug. The musty shack lets the dust thickly frost abandoned washbins and counters. The table where Prim once laid out my Reaping Day breakfast has warped, from an unattended leak in the ceiling. I should take better care of this place, I know. If anything were to happen to me, my mother and sister will need to move back here. A shudder runs through me, at the thought. It was proven to be more of a possibility than anyone had let us know, during our Victory Speech in District Two several months ago. The memory of shots ringing out, of Peeta slumping to the cobblestone floor haunt my already troubled dreams. The sob choked out of my chest, my panic and tears doing nothing to allay his injury. Faintest, shallow breaths escaping his lips before Peacekeepers dragged me away from him. Peeta still has the scars on his chest and arms, bitter reminders as achingly hard for me to see as his offset leg. The fear of loss, of all my work to keep him safe, him, the kindest boy I know being in vain. The memory of Snow’s approving nod, during our feast at his mansion, comes full-forced now, kicks at me to drown in my punishment until all I can do is stop myself from crying out.

Keep reading