this is our chance of feeling alive

Your Night of Gratitude.

Tonight is a beautiful night, isn’t it. 

Why, you ask?

Because we are still alive and able to experience another beautiful day tomorrow. 

Because we may fall asleep in peace, knowing that we are surrounded by people who love us. 

Because we are given another chance to chase after our wildest dreams, and make the world a better place. 

Before you rest your head down, reflect on all of the positivity present in your life. Think deeply. Feel gratitude for all that there is. There truly is a lot to be thankful for. 

Find more positivity on Instagram

the sooner that various leftist movements and marginalized groups stop considering older people to be a coherently grouped “regressive enemy” and start recognizing instead that reactionary ideology can be equally present in 20 and 30 somethings (just as radical politics were present amongst our elders), the more of a chance we will have to start re-emphasizing the importance of studying our own complex histories, talking to the people who lived them that are still alive, and reading the words of those who have passed. because a lot of our communities have lost that initiative. if we gain it back, then maybe we won’t feel so cut off, in a bubble and starting from scratch in our movements - we (lgbt people being just one example) are so disconnected and alienated from our histories, and in many cases unfortunately, totally ignorant of them. 

Nobody Praying for Me // Kai Anderson

Originally posted by extraordinaryxmen

A/N: Filling several prompts with this: Kai dubcon, Kai POV, rough Kai sex. Enjoy friends!

Warnings: Dubcon! Smut, language.

Tags: @quicksilverbells, @fragilelikeabomb0106, @cohanlove0106, @unhinged-on-the-fringe, @delicrieux, @bludesires, @iimaddhatzz, @we-love-our-bandz, @ahstatejames, @industrialgothbitch, @zaddywilk

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Request from @crystalbaby12 for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#13 - “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

#88 - “After everything…I’d still choose you.” - A/N - I left this one out as I didn’t know how to put it in. Hope that’s okay!

Originally posted by psicomana

“I can’t believe this shit.” you curse, pulling at the restraints on your wrist. Swearing loudly, you kick over a stool near your feet, the wooden chair smacking against the floor. You listen, waiting to see if your detainers come to see what the noise is about, but everything remains silent.

“I’m gonna rip his fucking heart out as soon as we get out of here.” Jax snarls from behind you, his back pressed up against the opposite side of the pillar. Even though you can’t see his face, you know his forehead is scrunched up in anger, the way it always does.

“If we get out of here.” you correct him, resting your head against the immovable post. “I dunno about you, but it looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Now ain’t the time to talk smart.” he snaps, referring to your sarcastic tone. You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance yet keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Minutes later, Jax sighs loudly, the silence broken by his now softened voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” you reply quietly, not knowing how much longer you’re going to be able to last, your back stiff and stomach rumbling from being kept hostage for well over a day now. “You think they know where we are?”

“I dunno, but we better hope they do.” You close your eyes, his response truthful yet lacking the hope you’re aching to hear. “Unless the club can somehow come up with half a mil in two days, we’re fucked.”

“Wow, great pep talk. I can see why they chose you for president.” you say, rolling your eyes. Jax brushes his hands up against your own, his restraints stopping him from holding your hand in his own.

“I’m gonna get you out of this, (Y/N).” he replies, determination in his tone. Tears prick at your eyes, heart heavy with panic, body heavy with fatigue. “I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

“Bang up job you’re doing.” you sniff, your nose tingling as your vision turns misty, defeated tears falling down your cheeks. “I forgot, only you’re allowed to hurt me, yeah?”

You know it’s a low blow, the past between you and Jax still raw even though it’s been a good six months since you found out he was sleeping with Colette behind your back.

“You really wanna do this now?” he questions, his voice surprisingly calm, as if he knows you’re on the edge.

“What better time, Jax?” Your voice cracks as you say his name, frustration thick in your veins as you try to hold yourself together. “Might not get the chance after he slits our throats.”

“Jesus Christ!” He tugs at his restraints mercilessly, the pain in your voice like nails on a chalkboard, his skin crawling with red hot fury. You flinch as he shouts, more tears escaping from your eyes.

He remains silent for what feels like forever, the tension level high as you try to face the fact that you might not make it out of here alive.

Your head pounds as you cry silently, unable to bear the thought of never seeing your family again, or never seeing the club again.

“I argued with Tig before we got picked up.“ you start, your throat thick with emotion, the lump refusing to budge no matter how many times you swallow. “What if he blames himself?”

“Fucking stop it, (Y/N).” he warns, defiance in his words. “We’re not gonna die here.”

“How can you be so sure?” you argue, your bubble of hope completely deflated, your mind screaming at you to be realistic. “We live in the life, Jax. This sort of shit happens all the time.”

“Not to us, alright? This isn’t how it’s gonna end for you, (Y/N).“ Shaking your head, you wish his words could cut through the negativity in your brain. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.”

“Okay.” you agree falsely, tired of the same empty promises.

You feel yourself being shaken awake, the throbbing in your skull the first thing you feel once you begin to stir. Blurry vision focuses on Jax, a worried expression on his face as he studies you. “Shit, I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“What happened?” you ask groggily, your throat dry due to the lack of fluids. Taking in your surroundings, your eyes widen in horror as you spot the bleeding body near the door. “Oh my god.”

“Hey.” he calls, his cold hands cradling your face as he tries to direct your attention back to him. “It had to be done. Once I cut loose, it was either me or him.”

You know it’s true, though it doesn’t make it any less horrifying. Nodding, you try to blink away the black spots dotting your vision, cold sweats creeping up your body as you try to remain calm.

“Jax, I don’t feel right.” you complain, nausea sweeping over you in waves. Jax presses the back of his hand to your forehead, his icy touch bringing you temporarily relief. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

You can barely hear him talk, his words muffled as a loud piercing sounds in your ears, beads of perspiration dripping from your neck down to your back. No matter how much you try to fight it, you feel yourself slump to the side, reality slipping from you as you lose consciousness.

The unmistakeable fumes of disinfectant fill your nostrils as your eyes flutter open, a white ceiling greeting you as you do so. A hiss escapes from your lips as you shift, the hefty needle hanging out of your arm being the cause. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

You turn your head to the side, a smile slipping onto your lips at the sight of Gemma. “Gem.”

“I’m so glad you’re alright, sweetheart.” she mumurs, standing to place a loving kiss upon your forehead. The simple gesture brings tears to your eyes, relief flooding though you at the realisation that you’re back where you belong.

“Where’s Jax? Is he okay?” you ask, a million and one questions sitting on the end of your tongue. Gemma smiles knowingly, before nodding, a heavy breath leaving your lips.

“He’s been worried sick.” she says, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll send him in.”

A minute or so later, Jax slips into the room, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes look tired, though they spark once they land on you, his skin looking a little less pale. “How you feeling?”

“Alright, considering.” you respond quietly, pushing yourself to sit up as Jax sits on the side of your bed. “How long have I been out?”

“Couple hours. You scared the shit out of me.” he admits, running his fingers over his beard. You reach up bravely, taking his hand within your own, squeezing lightly.

“Thank you for keeping your promise.” He’s taken aback by your actions, not expecting you to greet him with such warmth. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to.” he says, his eyes flickering to your lips before he clears his throat, pulling away. Leaning down, he places his lips upon your forehead, lingering for a few seconds. “I’ll leave you to rest.“

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from exiting. “Will you come back later?”

“You want me to?” You nod shyly, unsure where you stand with him. He raises his brow in surprise, before a small smirk appears on his face. “Then I’ll see you later.”

“Alright.” you reply lamely, a hopeful flutter in your chest that maybe you can work past the hurt, and maybe there is a silver lining to this situation after all.

A/N - Ahhhhh I’m really not sure how I feel about the ending of this but hopefully you guys like it! Thank you for being so patient, and thank you for reading❤ let me know what you think!!

Today is the International Day of the Girl Child. A moment to think about the inequality of our world.

There are many places on earth where giving birth to a girl is seen as bad luck. Or places where little girls suffer genital mutilation, they are forced to marry at an early age or don’t have access to education. And sometimes these are not exceptions, but norms.

I met this young Yazidi girl from Syria in a refugee camp from the Kurdistan Region in Iraq. Hasa was feeling fortunate that she’s alive and has the chance to study. Unfortunately she lost six of her small cousins when Isis attacked her village in Syria.

In many parts of the word life is so cruel and unfair. I just hope the girls and boys of today will make tomorrow the world a better place for everyone. It’s us who have to educate them in this spirit.

EXO Angel!AU Reaction to becoming human after saving you from an accident

I swear I have so many Angel requests so we’ll have angel aus the whole week! Xo, Admin A~

/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise/


*He’d be very confused, everything feels different, everything feels heavy* “IT’s okay Chanyeol… you can do this… it’ll be okay… the only thing that hasn’t changed is your love for her… you’l get through this… life has given you this chance”


*He’d feel so touched, so happy it makes him cry* “I can finally be with her… I can grow old with her… live until death breaks us apart… it has become real.. more real… our love. We’ll be together”


*He’d wake up next to you, in your hospital bed* “Do you… recognize me.. do you know.. who I am..? I feel different… more… human… I think.. they decided to give us a chance… how are you feeling? I’m a little confused too”


*He’d stop for a moment to breathe and feel… feel alive* “So this is how it feels hm… I wouldn’t change this for anything.. specially not now.. when I can finally go for her.. look for my girl… keep her safe in my arms…”


*No one would be happier than him* “I put myself in the line when I saved you… no one would have done that unless it was real love… I guess that’s why they decided to give us a shot, to prove the world that love still exists”


*He’d have a hard time at the begging with adapting but also with approaching you. He’s a little shy and also scared that you might not recognize him now that he’s human* “What if she thought.. I was only a dream.. what if… what if I look different… Now that I’m human I feel like she’s too much for me.. I’m scared… of loosing her”


“Hey… it’s me… how are you feeling? Yes.. yes I’m okay if you are okay. Different? Maybe… I feel different… I feel like I can be closer now… say… would you.. stay with me… forever?”


*He’d probably cry for weeks, not of sadness thought, he’d be so happy and thankful for the opportunity that was given to him* “This means… so much to me… it might be hard… living as a human but… I have her… It’ll be okay… we’ll be okay”


“Yes… yes they let me become a human after… because I love you… because you love me… because love can do wonders… even bring and angel and a human together”


*He won’t tell you right away. He’d like to try being a normal boy, get your heart as a normal boy, even though your heart is already his* “Say… now that we have all the time of the world… would you like to go on a date with me? Somewhere nice and quiet… I saw so many places when… I know the perfect place”


“She’ll never believe it… I can’t imagine the look on her face when I tell her what they have done for us… this is so special to me… I promise I won’t disappoint you.. I’ll love her with all my heart until my last breath”


*He’d be very confused at the beginning, not sure what to do* “Maybe she won’t look at me.. maybe she won’t see my light anymore.. I want to be with her but… does she want to be with me? I need to go see her.. she must be wondering where I am… her guardian… I hope I can become more than that… I love her”

[Masterlist] [Guideline]

The following is an excerpt from Kaitlin Roig’s book, Choosing Hope, describing the moment Adam Lanza entered Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012. She was the first grade teacher in classroom 12, the one adjacent to Victoria Soto’s:

“First comes the initial blast of gunfire, then the sounds of shattering glass. The hair on my arms stands up. I know right away what I am hearing. Columbine is happening in the place we called Pleasantville. How can it be? Someone with a weapon is shooting their way into our perfect school. My classroom is the first one in the building. We are in grave danger, I think, sitting targets. I jump up, run to the door, pull it closed, and switch off the lights. Thank God for the piece of dark blue construction paper I taped to the door window months ago in preparation for a lockdown drill and forgot to take down. I can’t lock the door. My keys are clear across the room, on top of my desk, and there’s no time to fetch them. For what? A locked door is no match for a magazine of bullets. If we’re going to live, we have to find a hiding place. Fast. I look around the classroom. My students don’t seem to understand what is happening. One, the little girl I call our fashionista, because she wears things like leopard prints and leggings, stands there smiling. I can’t tell if she is somehow oblivious to the sounds or scared frozen. The windows don’t open wide enough for a first-grader to climb through, and who knows what or who is waiting outside? Evil is coming for us and there’s nowhere to go.

Where can we hide? Where can we hide? There’s only one place. The bathroom - a tiny, tiny first grade-sized lavatory with only a toilet and a toilet-paper dispenser inside. Its dimensions are about the size of two first-grade desks pushed together. Maybe three feet by four feet. There is so little space that the sink is on the outside, in the classroom. I have never even been inside of the bathroom before. An adult wouldn’t fit comfortably. How in God’s name will I get sixteen of us in there? It is our only chance. The impossible will have to become possible.

Everything is happening so quickly. We are under siege. I turn to my students, who look up at me with pleading eyes. ‘Into the bathroom! Now!’ I say.

At first they protest. ‘In there?’ ‘How?’ ‘Why?’ ‘What do you mean, Miss Roig?’

‘Bathroom! Now!’ I say, repeating myself. They understand that the teacher means business. I rush them toward the back of the classroom. Shots are being fired outside our classroom door. There’s no time. ‘Hurry!’ I say, pushing them into the tiny space with the toilet in the center. ‘Hurry!’ But I know that no matter how quickly my students respond, it will still take two or three minutes to get everyone inside, minutes I feel sure we don’t have.

We all push into the bathroom, and when there isn’t a millimeter of space left, I begin lifting my students and piling them inside. I place one student, then two, then three on top of the toilet and hoist up my littlest girl and sit her on the toilet-paper dispenser. We are all crushed together with not even enough room left to take a deep breath. I reach out to pull the door closed, but the door isn’t there. Oh my God. In my rush to try to save us, I didn’t even notice. The door opens into the bathroom. We are blocking it with our bodies. I feel myself beginning to panic. Here we are, stuffed into a room, with a madman bearing down on us, and the door that is supposed to hide us is obstructed by us and can’t close.

My heart pounds against my chest, but I cannot afford to lose my composure, not if we are to have a chance of getting out of this alive. First-graders model their teacher’s behavior. If I panic, they’ll all panic, and we’ll be dead. One by one, I pick up the students who are blocking the door and move each one behind it until I am finally able to push it closed. But just before I do, I reach outside for a large storage cabinet on wheels that is nearby and pull it as close as I can to the front of the bathroom door, hoping that maybe it will conceal the door. ‘Now,’ I say, ‘We have to be absolutely quiet. We can’t say a word.’ I can’t help but wonder if, by trapping us in the bathroom, I have just sentenced us to certain death. What if the shooter realizes that the storage cabinet is a ruse and shoots right through it?

Someone shouts, ‘Shooter! Stay put!’ Is that our principal? The school nurse? Another teacher? The sounds are too muffled to tell. Then, ear-splitting, rapid-fire shots, like a machine gun - di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di - over and over and over. We hear pleading. My students stay perfectly quiet. First-graders are black -and white. They understand that someone very bad is searching for us and in order for us not to be discovered they stay perfectly quiet. In our silence, we hear voices, although whose is unclear. They are muffed voices. People are pleading for their lives. ‘No!’ Please, no! Please! No!’ If my students are to keep even relatively calm, they must not know that my insides are shaking and I’m sure we are all about to die. It’s a very difficult thing, putting on a cool front in the midst of what I know is life and death. With the inescapable sounds of carnage happening all around us, my little ones are feeling desperate. ‘What is happening?’ one of them whispers. My fashionista begins to cry. I cup her face in my hands and look into her teary eyes. ‘We’re going to be okay,’ I promise. I never make promises I can’t keep, especially not to children, but this is a matter of life and death. The boy who straddles the top of the toilet is shaking so hard that he accidentally flushes. Once, then again. We all hold our breath. Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!! Did the shooter hear? I look at the boy and his face says it all. I’m scared and I’m sorry and I don’t know what to do. ‘Miss Roig, I don’t want to die today,’ one of my students whispers. ‘I just want my mom,’ another one says, fighting tears. ‘I don’t want to die before Christmas,’ says my student who has been talking about the holiday for months. We are squeezed together like fingers in a tight fist. My kids want out of this sweltering, sealed-up box we’re in. ‘I’ll lead the way!’ one of the boys whispers. ‘I know karate,’ says another boy. Hadn’t it been only moments ago that he told us the story of finding a dollar under his pillow for his two front teeth? ‘No,’ I say gently. ‘There are bad guys out there and we need to wait for the good guys to come.’ I can’t bear to think that their last moments will be spent this way: in fear. I must reassure them, even though I don’t believe my own words. ‘It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,’ I say. Then, because I believe that death is imminent and I want to do whatever I can to make them feel safe, I tell them how much they have meant to me. ‘I need you to know that I love you all very much,’ I say. In comforting them, I have also brought comfort to myself. ‘Anyone who believes in the power of prayer needs to pray right now,’ I say, ‘and anyone who does not needs to think really happy thoughts.’ I put my hands together and start to pray. The kids are too crammed together to move their arms, but most of them close their eyes and I assume they are following my instruction. The shooting continues. Now I am prepared to die.”

Holding on

What are we but lovers caught in a dream;
Entangled in a web of long gone wishes
Where only kisses breathe us alive,
We, trapped in a trance transcending time,
Locked is our distant gaze, craving eternity;
A single touch, what more could we want?

To remain close! – conjoined, is all we want:
Ethereal existence as in a dream,
Energy fusing in eternity,
We, longing to be but the sum of our wishes;
Sand never ruled by the hourglass of time,
Never falling, yet evolving, growing; alive.

I promise, our passion will forever remain alive,
This attraction fulfills the whole of our want;
We get lost in each other; in time! –
Skin to skin feels like a dream,
Let us stay drunk on love, high on our wishes;
Tightly clutched together for a sheer eternity.

This is destiny; our mortal grasp at eternity,
White sparkles inciting a flame forever alive,
Devouring us; stripping us of all wishes
Until we are consummated, free from want,
Absorbing the illusion of that lucid dream
Where your last kiss stops all time.

(Our moments will fade to memories in time.)

Us, promising and even expecting eternity;
Fools believe in such an idyllic dream! –
This last chance to keep you alive
Slowly slips away, wrenching my every want,
I see, only the heavens can grant wishes.

Bereft of hope, I whisper sweet death wishes,
Unable, no, reluctant to bide out my time
Now each waking day ends in the want
To gently slip into oneiric eternity,
The only place where I find you, still alive.

Alas, it is always just a dream.

Written by @denmysterywoman,
and @definegodliness

All the Dark Places, Carl Grimes.

A/N: I’ve been rewatching The Walking Dead since early before December break from my school. Then I soon realized that I wanted to write something about Carl Grimes.
It started out as me giving myself a prompt for an imagine that should have been only a little over 3,000 words but this has developed much farther into an actual novella. I found that I kept wanting to pull more out of it and develop more.
If you aren’t aware a novella is considered short novel or very prolonged short story.
I hope you enjoy this as much as I did throughout this amazing month of writing it

- Sincerely, Newtandthediamonds

Prompt: Set in mid-season finale time frame of the sixth season of the Walking Dead, this will dive into the mid-sets of two teenagers in the impending apocalypse. Just surrounding Carl losing his eye and their lives seeming to come together just before this happens, the reader tries to adjust to these sudden changes. Will Carl stay in his state of cynicism after the incident or move on? More importantly, will the reader be able to do anything about it?


Flashbacks in italics.

WORD COUNT:  23,479

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Without A Trace Pt. 2

Originally posted by zugzwangcm

A/N: So…wow. This was more well received than I originally thought it would be, but as promised here is part two of without a trace. This is mainly the taunting of the BAU and dipping into the reader’s POV briefly. (Side note: this got so much darker than I ever intended for it to be.) Again not as many Hotch X Reader feels in this part, but it will be in the next part I promise :)

Warnings: swearing, implication of rape, and mention of a rape.

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5K

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Hotch and Rossi walked back in from their much needed short walk outside, which unfortunately for you had been around the back of the building, not the front. Hotch glanced around the room mentally checking off each team member and monitoring what their activities. The lack of your presence disturbed him greatly. “Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked Prentis because she was the last person he saw you with.

“She’s not with you?” she asked clearly alarmed as she looked back and forth between him and Rossi.

“Why would she be with us?”

“Because she made a possible connection that might lead us to our unsub when she saw who our missing woman was, and she ran outside to tell the two of you.”

“And you let her?”

“She really didn’t give me a choice,” Emily defended.

“Which way?” Hotch demanded. Emily pointed to the front door of the station. “Damn it, we were out back,” he growled, jogging to the doors. “(Y/N)! Are you out here?” Aaron shouted, as he threw the doors open. You were nowhere to be found. “(Y/N)! Where-”

“Aaron,” Rossi muttered, kneeling down to look at something on the ground.

“What is it?” Aaron asked hesitantly, as he slowly turned around. Rossi shook his head and picked your credentials up off the ground.

“He’s got her.”

“Damn it!” Hotch shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. “I knew that I should’ve-”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Rossi cut him off. “It happened and now we do something about it. The longer we stand here, the longer he’s alone with her. Now get your head out of your ass and let’s find her.” Hotch took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face.

“You’re right, I just-”

“I know and we are going to find her, but we can’t do that standing here without the team,” Rossi replied and walked back into the station with Aaron following close behind.

“(Y/N)’s gone,” Hotch stated as Rossi tossed your creds on the table.

“What? She couldn’t have been out there for more than five minutes if that long!” Emily cried.

“Which just proves that he has perfected his method of abduction. No one heard or saw anything,” Rossi muttered.

“Maybe there’s something on the cameras,” JJ suggested.

“I doubt it but I’ll get Garcia look anyways,” Morgan replied, pulling out his phone

“Guys, there’s a note,” Reid said, pulling the small folded up piece of paper from your credentials. “‘Thank you for my new toy. She was well worth the chase. I think that I’ll take my time with this one.’ signed the Raleigh Ripper,” he read. Hotch repeatedly clenched his hands together trying to stay calm. “He’s getting bolder. He’s never taunted law enforcement before.”

“He’s also never taken two women in one day. The abduction of the M.E. should’ve been it. What changed?” JJ asked.

“(Y/N). He tried to abduct her, but since I was there he ran and couldn’t finish what he started. He saw her as a challenge,” Derek clarified.

“Ok, but what’s his end game? Now he’s got two women, one of which is a federal agent, he has to know that this isn’t going to end well.”

“I hate to say this, but what if he knows that there isn’t anything to connected him to any of his victims and that we probably won’t find them until it’s too late?” Reid mumbled quietly. The whole team fell silent at that thought.

“Not an option and we aren’t giving up. Morgan get Garcia to pull records. I don’t care if the person is an eight-year-old, I want to know every person who’s ever been in those buildings, and get her to put a lock on (Y/N)’s phone. He’s good, so I can almost guarantee that it’s off, but if it turns on again I want to know the second it does,” Hotch said, fighting the urge to walk out of the room and break something. “Reid go back through all the case files and see if there’s anything we missed. Prentis and JJ, look into the workplaces again. Rossi help Reid. I’ll be back in a second, I need to make a call and update the detectives.” Aaron stormed off toward the conference room and shut the door behind him.

“Rossi, is he alright?” JJ whispered, watching Hotch close all of the blinds in the room.

“No, he’s not. Right now he’s feeling like he failed at his job and that it’s his fault that she’s gone,” he replied.

“How do we help him?”

“Right now, you can’t. Just work on finding the slip up so we can get (Y/N) back,” Rossi said and walked over to the conference room. He knocked twice on the door, before opening it. “Aaron?” he called, hesitantly. He walked in and shut the door behind him. Hotch didn’t move or acknowledge his presence. He just sat in one of the chairs, leaning forward with his head in his hands. “Aaron, beating yourself up about this isn’t helping her.”

“I feel responsible,” he grumbled.

“I know, but we all feel responsible. We knew she fit into the victim pool, and-”

“All the more reason that I should’ve made her stay back in Quantico where she would’ve been safe.”


“Dave, I haven’t felt this lost and helpless since-”

“Foyet,” David finished for him.

“I can’t lose her like I lost Haley, Dave, I just can’t,” he muttered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“Aaron, you need to have faith in our team. Right now, we have the best chance of finding her alive if we can get to her within the first twenty-four hours, but to do that we need all hands on deck,” David said trying to comfort his friend.

“But what if we can’t? What if we find her dead on some bench? I’ll never-”

“Aaron, you can’t think about that right now. Right now she’s terrified, probably in a lot of pain, and all alone. Right now, you need to concentrate on finding her rather than what ifs.” Hotch sat almost rooted in place. He wiped the tear from his cheek and looked up at Rossi.


“Good. Now let’s get out girl back,” Rossi said, smiling sadly at Hotch and walked back out of the conference room. Aaron sat there another moment trying to find his composure. He stood slowly and looked out the window to the outside world.

“(Y/N), we are coming for you. Please be ok,” he muttered and strode back out into the main area of the station to aid the team as much as he could in his present state.

You groaned as light flooded into the room. Your head was throbbing with intense pain. “What the hell?” you muttered, trying to shift and stand up. Your movement was abruptly stopped by thick metal chains that were secured around your wrists and throat. You were shackled to a wall, the chains only allowing you to move your arms high enough to touch your shoulder and your wrists were bound together. The collar of your blouse had been torn, exposing more collarbone and cleavage than you ever would’ve considered showing in public, and your pencil skirt had ridden up. Your shoes also were missing for some unknown reason. Noting that you were in a basement of some kind, you suddenly remembered what happened. “Oh, shit.”

“Well, look who finally woke up,” the man chuckled. You slowly turned your head to look around. “You were so worth the chase it took to get you here,” he snickered taking a drag on the lit cigarette in his right hand.

“Where am I?” you demanded, rattling your shackles.

“Somewhere your little FBI friends won’t be able to find you.”

“Ha,” you snorted, “You don’t know my team. They are the best at they do and they are going to find me, you sick son of a-” he lunged forward and pressed the lit end of the cigarette down on your exposed collarbone. You bit down on your lip and tried your best not to cry out, knowing that would be giving him exactly what he wanted. You grit your teeth and clenched your fists.

“Oh, tough girl ain’t ya? Well, I guess you’d have to be to be a woman in the FBI,” he cackled, taking your face in his hands. “I’m going to enjoy slowly breaking you, torturing you until you scream for mercy.” You narrowed your eyes and spit in his face. He recoiled back and slapped you hard across the face.

“Go to hell, bastard,” you spat.

“Bitch,” he growled, wiping his face, “I’ll teach you some manners later, but I have to deal with my other toy first.” He slapped you again, before storming out of the room and locking the door behind him. You could hear the screams of the other woman who you assumed was the M.E. he’d kidnapped before you. You let your head fall again and resisted the urge to start crying. You needed to find the faith you claimed moments ago to have in your team, but you also had to find a way to help yourself and try to help the other woman being held captive. The burn on your collarbone stung as you tried to move your shoulder. You lifted your head again and began to study the room around you. It was still slightly clouded with cigarette smoke. You figured you had to be in some kind of basement, but you had no idea where or what building. A bloodcurdling scream rang through the room making you jump slightly. You noted the presence of two small windows on the wall in front of you. You sighed and pressed your head into the cold wall behind you.

“Guys, I’m sorry for being stubborn and stupid,” you mumbled to no one in particular. For some reason, you felt the need to express your regrets vocally instead of just talking to yourself in your head. The sound of the lock turning in the door pulled you from your thoughts and your captor came back in.

“Time to go, bitch.”

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing like what I’m going to do to you,” he growled and slapped you. He quickly unlocked the lock that shackled your neck chain to the wall and hauled you up to your feet. You threw your shoulder into his chest and swept his legs out from under him. He yelped in pain as he landed his side. You made a mad sprint for the door, but the man was up and after you before you had made it across the room. He stomped on the chain attached to the collar around your neck. The action effectively choked you briefly and sent you rapidly to the ground. You hit your head hard against the door in front of you and groaned as you collided with the floor. “You just don’t have any manners do you, I’ll have to start your lessons now,” he snarled and started to unzip his pants.

“No, no, no,” you whimpered, trying to crawl away. He pinned you to the ground and started ripping at your skirt as you silently cried.  

Every passing moment that you weren’t around seemed to be wearing down the team’s hope of finding you. Hotch had been pacing in a straight line for so long, Rossi thought there would be a permeant trench where he had been pacing. After four hours of searching, it still wasn’t looking good. “Please tell me someone has something,” Aaron asked, stopping to look at the team. Everyone looked around at each others’ blank and sad faces. “Garcia?”

“Sir, I’m running through backgrounds on everyone who works or has worked in all of these buildings, but that’s a lot of names and that’s going to take some time,” she replied sadly.

“Time is one thing that we don’t have a lot of right now,” Rossi muttered returning to the file he was looking at.

“Oh my god!” Penelope shrieked, typing quickly.

“What is Baby Girl?” Derek asked.

“Her phone! (Y/N)’s phone just turned back on.”

“Can you get a fix on it?” Hotch demanded, rushing toward the table.

“It’s running through hundreds of different towers and frequencies, but if it’s on long enough-” the sound of Aaron’s phone ringing interrupted the conversation. He fished it out of his back pocket. The sight of your name flashing across the screen sent chills down his spine.

“I’ll try and keep the call going as long as I can,” he muttered and accepted the call setting it on speaker. “(Y/N), are you-”

“Aaron Hotchner?” a gruff male voice asked.

“This is special agent Aaron Hotchner, who is this?”

“Your agent has been telling me about your team and how you are going to find her, but considering she’s still here this seems less than true,” he snickered, laughing sinisterly. Hotch clenched his fists at his side.

“Listen to me, we are going to find you and you are going to rot in prison for the rest of your life, and if anything happens to her-”

“Oh plenty of things have already happened to her,” the man sneered. A metal clack was heard and your scream echoed into the room.


“Such a tough one, but she doesn’t have any manners or respect for authority figures does she?”

“Just let her-”

“Do you know how much faith she has in you, very special agent Hotchner? She kept screaming out your name over and over again, begging you to come and save her as I took her and made her bleed,” he cackled, ending the call. Hotch slammed his hand against the table.

“Please tell me you got it and we found her,” he muttered.

“Not long enough for an exact location,” Penelope cried in frustration. “But I- Oh my god.”

“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” JJ asked hurriedly.

“Are you near a laptop?”

“Yeah, why?” Emily asked. Suddenly a web browser opened up to a video feed that turned the team’s blood cold. The video seemed to be being streamed from a basement somewhere. You were strapped down by your wrists and ankles to a surgeon’s table. Your clothes were tattered and torn in places they clearly should not have been. You had a white rag tied around your mouth as a gag, makeup streaming down your face with your tears. Three long cuts ran down the center of your back.

“Oh (Y/N),” Derek muttered.

“Garcia,” Hotch prompted, praying that she at least had something.

“Right sorry,” she mumbled, wiping the tears from her face. “So that sicko ended the call before I could get an exact location on the phone because he was running it through so many towers, but the call lasted long enough that I narrowed it to a five-mile radius.”

“How many-”

“Abandoned buildings, warehouses, and sketchy places are within that radius? Already done. There is one abandoned warehouse and then two construction sights that would fit the bill, and I can rule out the warehouse because it is currently being demolished. Both of the construction sights were deserted six months ago when the projects fell through. The head on each of the sights was a Daniel Owens,” she chronicled and a picture of your attacker opened on the screen.

“That’s him,” Morgan confirmed.

“Both addresses have been sent to your phones. You’re about ten minutes away from both.”

“Good work, Garcia. Reid, Rossi, JJ you take the first location. Prentis, Morgan, and I will take the second,” Hotch delegated as the team strapped their vests on.

“Sir?” Penelope said hesitantly.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Please bring our (Y/N) home. I can’t imagine a world without that angel,” she pleaded.

“We’re going to do our best,” Hotch promised, ending the call. The team sprinted out the SUVs and drove off to the two locations. All of them were praying that you would hold on until they got there.

People are losing their shit (pardon my french) over the fact that LJK is not single.

LeeLee shippers are against LJK and PMY shippers (yep, people already ship that). Fangirls crying in the corners because their bias won’t date or marry them bc obviously before that they had a legit chance to date him.

And now tvn cancels special video of My Ear’s Candy with Lee jun Ki and Park Min Young, like they assume that there is no point anymore. The heck? I see no connection but we understand where it’s coming from. Since when participating in this kind of a show equals dating? Ridiculous.

People questioning then why LJK behaved like that with IU. Well, in my opinion, he’s a showman and he just gave us what we wanted and thanks for keeping our SoSoo feels alive. Don’t forget that he loves this show as mush as we do and I think he enjoys seeing us fangirling over it.

Why people are like this? Lee Jun Ki is his own person, with his private life, emotions and feelings. Can’t we just cheer and be happy for him? He doesn’t owe us anything (except for an amazing drama, we need a new drama with him) I just don’t want any consequences for him that could affect his career.

Maybe I’m wrong but I’m certain in one thing - let’s distinguish between an actor and his job and a person and his personal life.

People need to chill.


Originally posted by everythingjustindrewbieber

A little bit of cute and fluffy for y’all. Your welcome.

“Babe!” Justin’s voice echoed from downstairs. Continuing to scroll through my rather boring feed, I answered “Yeah Jay?”

Footsteps were heard from down the hall until a casually dressed Justin found his way into the room with a pair of keys and his phone in hand.

“Za needs me right now. Says it’s an emergency or something. I know it’s my day but can you do the laundry today. Please!” He pouted.

Are you kidding? This is the third day in a row. When I moved in with Justin I made it very clear that we were going to have to split the house work because, one; I work full time and need a break also. And two; there is no way in hell I would ever become a house wife.

“Justin,” I whined. “Seriously?”

“I know.” Justin quickly replied “but I swear if you do it this one time, I’ll do it for the next week.”

“A Week? Wow. You want me to do the washing so bad that you would rather do it for a week then have me not do it today?”

“Y/N.” He warned.

I chuckled “Okay, Okay. I’ll do it.”

He smiled. “Thank you baby.”

He swung off the door frame which he was leaning on and ran over, Placing a small peck on my forehead before jogging out of the room and down the stairs until the sound of the front door closing was heard throughout the large house.

I sighed, picking myself off the bed and lazily made my way over into the laundry room.

The basket full of dirty clothes lay next to the washing machine, full of clothes that had been worn the previous day. It was shocking how much clothes where in there considering we washed every single day. But I must add that 80 percent of the clothes where Justin’s.

I sighed deeply and walked over to the basket, looking through the clothes, separating the blacks from the whites and clearing the pockets of any tissue or gum that had been disregarded in them.

It came down to two items. One of my dresses and then a pair of dress pants Justin wore out to our dinner date last night.

I picked up the dress, throwing it into the machine considering It didn’t have any pockets then leaned down to pick up Justin’s pants. As I pulled up the clothing item, I noticed that it seemed heavier the usual. My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed a large bulge in the right pocket.

I quickly picked at the pants, digging straight into his pocket. The item was hard and felt like velvet once I ran my fingers over it, but there was also what seemed to be a folded up piece of paper next to it. I pulled out both objects, disregarding the pants on the floor once I had the two items in my hand.

The box was what I had imagined, velvet and black, but next to it - the note - was folded with little letters which said ‘read me first’ inked into it.

I placed the box down on the side of the laundry sink and quickly harassed my fingers to unfold the paper that was covered in neatly written blue handwriting.

'Y/N, you don’t understand how much I love you. How much I need you. You are seriously the love of my life. And out of the 22 years I’ve been alive, the 4 I spent with you are the best I’ve ever experienced. I’m writing this to you to take my chances, sending you how I feel because someone once told me that once we accept our limits, we usually go beyond them. And I know you said that you weren’t sure if you were ready but I just can’t ignore feeling as if I need you around to just simply breath. I need to make you mine in more then just a said commitment. I want a vow. To say my vows. Our vows. So I’m taking this once in a lifetime opportunity in uniting with my soulmate, and I’m begging you to take this chance too.

Marry me my princess?

Turn around.’

As tears fell far from my eyes, I quickly shot around to see Justin standing in the door way with a bouquet of roses. The paper slipped from my fingers as I watched the smile on his face grow slightly since he leaned over to grab the black box off the sink.

And although I already knew what was happening, it still shocked me to see him bend down on one knee and open the box.

“Will you?” He asked. A hopeful look in his face.

Speechless was the word I could use to describe this moment, so instead of saying anything I lept forward and smashed his lips against mine.

Justin stumbled to stand up but immediately wrapped both arms around my body and began fumbling around with something behind my back.

I slowly pulled away but as I did, his hand came back around to show me that he had pulled the ring from out of the box. Slowly he slid it onto my ring finger and smiled lovingly at me, one that I easily returned.

One look at the amazing ring Justin bought me was all I needed to immediately throw my lips upon his once more. Finally realising just how lucky I was to have not Justin Bieber the singer. But Justin, the amazing, romantic, passionate and loving boyfriend I had always dreamed about.

Actually - fiancé.

anonymous asked:

Could you write a fic where clarke makes it back to the rocket in time, but her helmet still cracks in bellamy's pov please

Earning Redemption

Bellamy POV

The lab is empty, the lights flickering dangerously against the oncoming storm outside. In the last five minutes on Earth, we had all worked together to ensure our survival.

Now, six of us were onboard and strapped down in the rocket. Two of us weren’t.

I stand at the base of the ladder and glance at the countdown: three minutes. There were three minutes to launch, and Clarke wasn’t back yet.

“Bellamy.” I hear a voice call from over my shoulder. I turn to see Raven standing in the hatch, her eyes filled with worry.

“I know, Raven.” I rasp, not daring to believe that I was going to be forced to leave Clarke on this burning planet.

I hear a loud crash from behind me and spin to find Clarke gripping the railing before descending the stairs, tripping over her feet as she hurriedly staggers across the lab towards us. That’s when I see it. There is a crack and a significant hole in the glass of her helmet.

My mind freezes. I can already see the blisters forming in harsh red circles on her face. But the radiation isn’t our biggest concern now. Clarke has to make it an hour in space with a cracked helmet.

My mind snaps and races for a solution, but it finds nothing. This couldn’t be happening.

“Raven,” I call, my voice strangled as I turn and lead Clarke to the ladder to climb. “What do we do?” I ask as we meet the brunette at the mouth of the rocket.

Raven’s eyes widen before she blinks quickly. Her mouth opening but nothing coming out.

“Raven.” I bark, demanding a solution.

“I mean, we don’t have any more helmets or oxygen tanks… And taping it shut isn’t going to keep oxygen in… I, I…” She stutters, her eyes filling with tears.

My panicked eyes meet Clarke’s, and the utter loss I see painted in her blue eyes devastates me. I can’t leave her here, but how is she supposed to hold her breath for an hour? There wouldn’t be enough oxygen for the eight of us to ration together for an entire hour.

I glance swiftly between the faces of my friends, silently pleading for some suggestion, some solution to save the second-most important person in my life. My eyes halt at Echo; there is an emotion in her eyes that I can’t place.

“Two minutes to launch.” Raven murmurs.

I turn to Clarke, completely lost for words and a solution. Her jaw clenches slowly as determined tears fill her eyes. She nods softly before gripping my arm firmly.

“Take care of them for me.” She murmurs, her voice filled with emotion.

“Clarke,” I rasp, my eyes pleading with her, the universe, anyone who will listen. “I can’t. I can’t do this without you.”

“You have to now.” Clarke replies, her brow set in a determined grimace, yet her eyes are soft, vulnerable.

“No, he doesn’t.” A voice says firmly from behind us. Echo stands quickly before crossing to the hatch and climbing out.

“Echo,” I ask. “What are you doing?”

“The honorable thing.” She replies simply, her mouth a grim line. The same emotion I saw before is in her eyes again, and this time I recognize it.

Pity. Guilt.

She quickly removes her helmet and thrusts it towards Clarke. Clarke’s fingers curl around it slowly, her gaze rising to meet those of the Ice Nation spy.

“There isn’t much time. You all need to go, now.” Echo pushes the helmet further into Clarke’s arms before climbing down the ladder to the lab floor.

“I’m sorry.” Clarke whispers, tears spilling from her bright eyes. She does not say thank you. She can’t. “Thank you” would be Clarke admitting that she believes she deserves to be saved. This is something that is breaking Clarke’s heart, I know it. Neither one of us is okay with this situation in the slightest. Clarke would give her life up in a heartbeat for any of us, but Echo beat her to the punch this time.

Echo nods in reply.

I follow Clarke into the rocket before we turn and share a final glance with the woman who has killed so many, yet saved one person so vital to my existence. The one who makes it ore than just existing and surviving; the one who makes it a life. I swallow thickly. I never wanted any of them to die, even Echo. I nod in farewell, in thanks, my eyes threatening to give way to emotion.

“I gonplei ste odon.” Echo says in farewell. She steps outside of the blast doors, and as Raven closes them, Echo’s form is blurred by the textured glass. I close the hatch door, taking a deep breath and turn to find my seat.

Clarke quickly trades her helmet for the one Echo gave her and straps in for take-off. I glance over at her as I buckle myself in beside Raven and find her eyes are filled with tears. I know what she’s feeling.


It seems like every time we’re close to being rid of guilt, it comes back to haunt us. I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to escape it in this life. It’s a crappy hand we’ve been dealt, but we overcome, as always. There are just some things I question if we’ll ever get past. I mentally add today to the list.

The computer comes online with the countdown as I hear the engines firing. I hold to the straps across my chest as the timer nears ignition. The rocket surges upward, shaking violently, the sound of fiery propulsion filling my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut against the jarring of the vessel.

We reach the edge of space not ten minutes later. As we detach from the rest of the rocket, I open my eyes to be greeted by the all-too familiar view of a black blanket dotted with countless stars.

I look over at Clarke once again, and find that she isn’t crying anymore, but holding her head high. Even from across the cockpit, I can see the battle raging in her eyes. Relief that she’s alive or guilt because she wasn’t the one sacrificing this time, which would win out? I had a feeling I knew which one would, but there would be time to talk about that later.

Five years, to be exact.

“Welcome to Zero G, everybody.” Raven smirks before unbuckling from her seat. As she floated above our heads, I could see the happiness shining in her smile.

I chance a look at Clarke and our eyes meet. She gives me a halfhearted smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I give her a small nod, silently promising that she isn’t alone, that we will be okay eventually.


Docking the rocket with the Ring had been challenging, and we had all nearly suffocated before the air systems kicked into gear.

Afterwards, we scattered across the Ring, scavenging any remaining clothing, food, and other resources we could use while Raven and Monty worked on environmental controls. Eventually, we all somewhat settled back into another long duration in space.

As people claim rooms, I walk around the Ring, familiarizing myself once again with the dingy metallic walls that are even colder now than they were growing up. Sure, I’m glad to be alive, but not all of us are. I shake my head as I pass another corridor before making my way to the viewing window where so many moonrises had been observed before.

I round the corner to find the window already inhabited. Clarke sits on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest as she stares out at the flaming inferno that is now Earth. She looks so tiny and frail compared to the strong-willed, stubborn woman I know her as. She hears my footsteps because she turns her face towards me, and I see the tears that stain her pale cheeks.

That’s when it hits me full force. Without saying a word, Clarke is begging me to help her. To ease the guilt. To stop punishing herself because she doesn’t have the strength to do it on her own.

My jaw clenches as I close the space between us, sit beside her, and gently wrap an arm around her shoulders. She leans into my side as she wraps her arms around my waist.

“Tell me that I did the right thing, Bellamy.” Clarke’s voice cracks as she sobs into my chest.

I sigh, knowing that if I say she did do the right thing, Clarke will still feel like a monster.

“It wasn’t your fault, Clarke.” I murmur, resting my chin on her hair.

“Echo is dead because of me.” She whispers.

“Echo made her own choice,” I supply quietly, searching for the right words. “But now it’s up to us to make sure that her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. You’re still alive, right?”

Clarke nods feebly. I take another slow breath.

“So far, her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Let’s make sure it stays that way. Alright?” It kills me to see Clarke bearing even more weight from loss and sacrifice. I know how it feels, I understand the guilt and self-deprecation. Today wasn’t just the end of the world, it was a new era of life for everyone who survived the Death Wave, including Clarke and myself.

A chance to begin again.

“You’re right,” Clarke sniffled before sitting up, looking at me. “Echo did the honorable thing, just like she said. Now it’s my turn to honor her by keeping myself alive.”

“That’s better.” I murmur, a half-smile curving my lips softly.

Clarke nods, her tormented eyes wandering back to the window beside us.

“Do you think it was quick?” She asks, her eyes unwavering from the blazing fire consuming the Earth.

“I hope so.” I reply, my gaze following hers.

Clarke sighs, wrapping her arms around her knees once again. She looks so young like this, not at all like the eighteen-year-old I have come to respect and care for. I wonder what my life would have been like had I met her on the Ark before landing on the ground. Different, that’s for sure. But we wouldn’t have the same relationship that we do today. We wouldn’t have been molded by harsh environments, wouldn’t have been scarred by impossibly critical decisions, wouldn’t have developed the trust that we now share. And even though I hate the circumstances, I wouldn’t change a single day on Earth with this incredible woman simply because “what if”.

Silence envelopes us for several minutes before Clarke speaks again.

“Why do you think she did it?”

I blink in thought, gazing down at her blonde curls. I swallow thickly because I know why.

“Even though Echo was cutthroat most of the time, she still had a sense of honor, no matter how twisted it might have been,” I begin slowly. “She did it for me. After Gina… and everything with Octavia, I think she knew that I couldn’t lose another person that I cared about.”

I see Clarke nod, her eyes remaining fixed out the window. “It makes sense, I guess.”

I gently turn Clarke so I can look her in the eye. “You deserved to be saved, Clarke. You’re not alone, you never were.”

“Like you said, forgiveness is hard for us… But I’m going to try.” She sends me a small, reassuring smile.

“That sounds like a good plan.” I mumble.

Clarke returns her eyes to the window. I know that the debt she feels can never be repaid will result in her being here nearly every day for a long time. My heart aches to make it better, but in this instance, I’m powerless. This is an obstacle that Clarke must face and overcome by herself, with a solid support beside her. That’s my place.

Clarke peels her eyes away from the window and catches me staring. She blinks.

“What?” She whispers.

I shake my head gently. “You’re so strong, Clarke. I know that’s a blessing and a curse for both of us, but I’m glad you are.”

Clarke gives me the smallest of smiles. “I’m glad you are, too.”

I wrap my arm around her once again, pulling her to me before planting a light kiss in her hair. “We’re going to be alright, Clarke. I promise.”

Clarke sighs against my side. “I know that we will. It’s just hard to see that right now.”

“I know,” I reply into her hair. “The future is never certain with us.”

“You got that right.” She remarks, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs on my lips.

“You’re starting to sound like your old self again.”

She looks up at me, a flickering emotion in her eyes, almost as if she’s unsure if she can trust it or not. Hope.

“Good.” She swallows, her eyes never leaving mine. I nod, silent understanding passing between us. Clarke returns her eyes to the window.

“We’re going to be okay.” I promise her once again, quietly.

It would take time, and the sacrifices made today to reach this point would never be forgotten. The next five years will be hard on all of us, but I know that they will be easier to endure with Clarke beside me, than they would without her stubborn strength and determination.

We will get through this, just like we do every other hurdle in our path…

“Together.” She whispers.


Thank you to @wellsjahasghost and @bellamynochillblake for collaborating ideas with me. I greatly appreciate your feedback and input to get this fic up and running!

Also on and AO3. 

When Minhyuk gets in to a fight and you are upset

Thanks for requesting~ I’m sorry for having taken so long to post this, I had the plot in my mind for a long time but I just couldn’t bring myself to write this for some reason >< Anyway, I hope you enjoy~ ^^

mx requests make me so happy TuT also, i hope this isn’t too angsty for you ><

Words: 2912

this turned out to be way more Angsty than i expected

Requested by anon ♥

Originally posted by m-onstax

You tried very hard not to let the extremely disappointed sigh escape your lips. You didn’t know what time it was but you were quite sure it was already well past midnight. It wasn’t very common for you to be up that late but there you were, sitting in the dark on the edge of your bed while holding your phone in your hands. You kept reading the message sent by your boyfriend, Minhyuk, again and again. It read that he wouldn’t be coming home for the night and even though he didn’t state the reason, you already knew why. He always came home for the night - usually early in the evening - unless he had taken part in a fight.

You were dating a gang member - something that only happens in movies. Minhyuk was part of a gang called X and that was all you knew about it. You did know some of the members - six of them - since they were Minhyuk’s close friends but that’s it. You weren’t told about what went on inside the gang and you didn’t know much about the relations it had with other gangs. That’s how it was supposed to be and you were quite glad that you weren’t involved with any of the gang stuff. You had heard from Minhyuk that gang members were usually smart enough to keep their relationships private. Rival gangs didn’t hesitate to provoke their rivals by kidnapping or harming their significant others.

Now, it wasn’t the fact that you wouldn’t be able to sleep next to him that made you disappointed. Instead, it was him you were disappointed in. Countless times you had told him that you disliked it more than anything when he took part in fights. Usually he told you not to worry and that he would be seen weak if he didn’t take part in them. Occasionally, though, he told you he would stop. At those times you were usually in tears and he was quite badly injured. Still, despite him telling you he would stop, you always found yourself looking at his bruised face only a few weeks later. You had known that dating a gang member would be very different compared to a normal relationship but you had still secretly hoped that the fights wouldn’t be so frequent.

It crossed your mind that you should maybe text him and ask how badly he was injured but decided against it. You were too disappointed and irritated to care about it at that moment so you tossed your phone to the night table next to the bed and lay down, finally letting out the heavy sigh that had threatened to escape your lips.

While cycling down the bumpy old road that had become familiar to you during the past few years you had dated Minhyuk for, you tried hard to not turn around. In all honesty, you didn’t want to go to the abandoned factory your boyfriend and his friends always hung out at. After having slept only a few hours the night before in the bed that had felt uncomfortable due to Minhyuk not taking up the extra space in it, you really did not feel like facing the seven gang members who had probably had a fun night. You knew they always held a small - sometimes a little bigger - party after a fight and the thought of spending time with the probably hungover guys made you frown.

You let your bike fall to the ground and let out a sigh while looking at the factory in front of you.

“I might as well go in since I already came here,” you mumbled to yourself and walked to the entrance.

After getting inside it took you a few minutes to arrive where the seven guys were. Two of them slept on the old couch, a few had passed out on the floor and Minhyuk was deep asleep on the old armchair you usually sat in during your visits. The guys all had bruises on their faces and a few had some cuts too. Minhyuk’s face was only bruised which would have made you feel relieved if you hadn’t been so damn annoyed.

He always has fun while I’m sick with worry.

You took off your backpack and opened it before reaching inside it. You walked to the table placed in the middle of the seven sleeping guys and placed the thermos filled with green tea on it quite powerfully.

“Could you not produce such loud sounds this early in the morning, _____?” a drowsy voice murmured behind you and you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The voice belonged to Changkyun who had been sleeping on the couch with Hyunwoo.

You took out the bananas you had brought and placed them on the table next to the thermos. “For your information, it’s already eleven o’clock,” you said with a tone that you hoped would signal him that you weren’t in a good mood.

“Like I said, early in the morning,” he murmured and you rolled your eyes, not the least bit amused.

“God,” Hoseok groaned and you turned your head to see him getting up from the floor, holding his back. “What a rough night…”

“Did you bring the bananas?” Kihyun got up from the floor on your other side and wobbled over to the table.

“As always,” you stated.

One after another the guys woke up and greeted you in their own ways. As you had expected, they weren’t in the best shape. Hyungwon and Hoseok had a few small cuts on their faces and Hyunwoo had a bleeding cut on his arm. The others were quite badly bruised. Changkyun had a black eye and Jooheon didn’t look much better either. Kihyun was probably in best shape - his face didn’t have many bruises and his body seemed fine too though he was probably the one with the worst hangover.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. “Did you sleep well?” Minhyuk’s raspy voice asked and he rested his chin on your shoulder while leaning his head on yours.

“No,” you coldly said and handed Kihyun a cup filled with tea.

Minhyuk was obviously a little taken aback by your cold tone since he let go of you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, confused and concerned.

You didn’t even glance at him and shook his hand off your shoulder before stomping away. Minhyuk was dumbfounded.

Hoseok whistled. “She seems mad.”

“Seems?” Hyunwoo chuckled. “She is mad.”

Minhyuk felt quite helpless and looked at the others.

“Good luck trying to make her forgive you,” Changkyun patted his shoulder and grabbed a banana.

“What did I do?” Minhyuk asked, extremely confused.

“It’s probably better if you figure that out yourself,” Hyunwoo stated.

You sat on the stairs that led to the second floor of the factory. They felt cold under your bottom but you didn’t care. You were too irritated to pay attention on stuff like that.

He’s such an ass.

You threw a small rock down the stairs and listened to how it hit the floor further away. The sound echoed in the empty hall.


Sometimes you questioned your relationship with Minhyuk. Was it all worth it? Did you deserve the treatment you were getting? Even though you badly wanted to leave the relationship behind and move on, you couldn’t bring yourself to break up with him. You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone and you knew that he loved you too. At the same time you felt happy but also hurt. Seeing him get hurt made you hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you grew annoyed again upon hearing Minhyuk’s voice. Soon after he appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

You kept your mouth shut and looked away.

“Please forgive me,” he pleaded with an apologetic tone that only made you more irritated. “_____, I really am super sorry.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying hard not to explode.

“Can’t you just forget it? Huh? Honey, please. Forgive me? I’m so-“

“Do you even know why you’re apologizing?” you turned your head and said the words with such irritation that they were like bullets shot at him.

He was quiet for a bit. “For the fighting?” he hesitantly asked.

You let out a sigh and looked away again.

“Look, we’ve talked about this before. You know why I can’t stop taking part in the gang fights. It would be shameful.”

You felt a lump in your throat and it was slowly growing.

“I know it makes you worry but I just can’t stop. I’m sorry but that’s how things are and you’ve always known it,” he told you, his voice apologetic.

“Your gang is more important than me, isn’t it?” you mumbled, staring at your hands that rested on your lap.

“Don’t say that,” he said and walked up the stairs to where you sat.

“But it’s true,” you said quietly and swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“_____…” he called your name and you stood up.

“I’m going home,” you mumbled and walked past him while avoiding his gaze. You hurried out of the factory, not even saying goodbye to the rest of the guys who gave you confused looks when you walked past them.

After getting outside you didn’t hesitate before lifting your bike and getting on it. Your heart ached and you didn’t feel angry anymore. You felt sad.

There was a weird emptiness inside you. You were lying on your bed that also felt empty. Minhyuk hadn’t come home yet and you doubted he would.

He’s probably out partying with the rest of the gang. Or fighting…

Your heart was aching and had been aching since you had left the factory. You were heartbroken and you didn’t know why. All you knew was that it hurt like hell.

Your phone vibrated on the night table and you reached for it.

(_____! I didn’t have the chance to thank you for the bananas and tea this morning!) Kihyun’s text - that he had sent to the group chat - said.

It made you smile a little.

Kihyun: (Thank you as always~)

Hyungwon: (Thank you for always taking care of us~)

Jooheon: (We don’t deserve you, honestly ><)

Hyunwoo: (You’re such an angel, I sometimes feel sorry for you since you’re always surrounded by trolls like us)

Changkyun: (Our one and only savior!)

Hoseok: (I feel like we would not be alive without you)  

Hyungwon: (I know, right?)

“These dorks…” you smiled at the texts.

The six of them were such dorks that you usually had a hard time believing that they were all gang members. They had the ability to cheer you up and they always had your back. You considered them your friends.

(I’m glad you all feel that way) you texted them, still smiling a little.

Your smile faded away when you heard the door of your apartment being opened and closed soon after.

He’s home…

You put your phone down and got up from the bed before grabbing your dressing gown - that Minhyuk had bought you for your latest birthday - and putting it on. You slowly opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out in to the living room. Quietly, you walked to the dark hallway and stopped when you saw Minhyuk standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

You didn’t respond and just looked at him. He took off his shoes and walked over to you.

“Aren’t you cold?” he glanced at you and asked, his voice still quiet. He grabbed the sides of your gown and calmly tied the ribbon around the gown after bringing the sides together.

After doing that he glanced at your face and walked past you in to the kitchen. You followed him.

“Were you sleeping already?” he asked when you stopped in the doorway.

You just shook your head slightly.

“I see…” he quietly said and took out a glass and filled it with water before gulping it all down.

You observed his face. He didn’t have any more bruises and it didn’t look like he had been fighting. It also didn’t seem like he had been partying since he didn’t look drunk.

“You can go back to bed,” he said. “I’ll just sleep on the sofa tonight.”

Hearing him say that made your heart ache and you lowered your gaze. You didn’t want him to sleep on the sofa but you didn’t want to say it out loud. So, you just nodded a little and turned around before making your way back to the empty bedroom.

You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t even close your eyes. It was the empty spot beside you that kept you awake. You didn’t know for sure but it was well past midnight by now judging from how long you had been rolling around the sheets, trying to find a comfortable position. It had probably been some four hours since you had returned to the bedroom.

Minhyuk’s probably already asleep…

You didn’t think much about it when you sat up in the bed and soon after got up. You once again grabbed your dressing gown and slowly walked to the door. You opened it quietly and expected to see Minhyuk fast asleep on the sofa. He wasn’t though, he was sitting on it, his face buried in his hands.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, surprised, when he noticed you.

You just walked over to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his sweet voice causing a lump to form in your throat.

You just looked at him. His expression was slightly worried but his eyes were filled with warmth.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” you asked, your voice as quiet as a whisper.

He nodded and you sat down on the small table in front of the sofa. You were now sitting right in front of him, a little higher than him.

“My heart keeps aching,” you mumbled quietly and looked at your lap.

He looked at you apologetically.

“I’m sad, Minhyuk…” you continued.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat that was starting to get more painful.

“I know you are suffering from this relationship. I know it hurts you when I fight,” he said and placed his warm hand on your thigh. “I know you’re in pain and honestly… I feel so angry at myself for not being able to ease your pain.”

You looked at him.

“I know you want me to stop fighting but I can’t. I’m a gang member, _____. You knew what you were getting in to when you accepted to date me. You always knew that this is what it would be like.”

Even though you didn’t like it, he was right.

“I’d love to stop just to make you feel better but it’s not possible. I can’t do it. Not even for you even though you are the most important thing in my life.”

You lowered your gaze once again.

“That’s why there is only one way I can ease your pain. I don’t want to but if it makes you feel better, we can break up.”

It was like someone had just stabbed your heart.

“Break up?” you repeated and looked at him.

“I love you,” he whispered and cupped your cheek with his hand. “I don’t want to force you to stay with me. I want you to be happy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “But I am happy,” you said while your eyes filled with tears.


“I don’t want to break up,” you fell on your knees to the floor and leaned forward to wrap your arms around his waist. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll stop complaining. I’ll stop whining so please…”


There was a silence during which you started crying. The thought of breaking up with him was too painful. You didn’t want to do it. You loved him too much.

“I love you…” you said between your sobs.

His hands gently landed on your head. He ran his fingers through your hair and after a bit he pushed you away. You looked at him, your eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he said, looking at you apologetically. “Please don’t be sad…”

“How can I not when you’re about to leave me?” you sobbed.

“I won’t so please, stop crying baby,” he cupped your face with his hands and wiped your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you too.”

You looked at him. It almost looked like his eyes were wet with tears.

“I love you so much,” he whispered and leaned down to press a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said after pulling away.

“Breaking up will hurt me a lot more than staying together,” you quietly said.

He looked at you and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you. I don’t know if I would have survived the break up. Let’s go to bed now, huh?”

You nodded and he helped you up from the floor. He led you in to the bedroom and you two got in to bed. Once you were under the thick blanket, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. The emptiness inside you was gone and the bed didn’t feel as empty anymore either.

Area 11 (All The Lights in The Sky) Starters

  • “ Are we ready to begin? ”
  • “ Yes, I am ready. ”
  • “ One day I will find you. ”
  • “ I saw that you were lonely too. ”
  • “ There’s something broken inside you. ”
  • “ Everything that I forgot, I see it clearly. ”
  • “ Can’t you see that you’re losing you mind? ”
  • “ Give me a warning. ”
  • “ This is a warning. ”
  • “ We are simply killing time. ”
  • “ I wish I’d see inside your mind. ”
  • “ Almost the same but not enough. ”
  • “ Demons are possessing me. ”
  • “ I’m robbed of my eternity. ”
  • “ I feel my hate take flight. ”
  • “ I’m scared of backing down. ”
  • “ The hope within us all is up in flames. ”
  • “ The situation’s pushing onwards. ”
  • “ I think I’ve lost control. ”
  • “ Hold me closely. ”
  • “ Take this secret with you. ”
  • “ This could fuel the revolution. ”
  • “ This could be my last solution. ”
  • “ All good victories come with a price. ”
  • “ What is life but a burden for me. ”
  • “ All this anger, burning inside but buried deep. ”
  • “ I can’t seem to sleep. ”
  • “ I can’t stay awake. ”
  • “ I cannot let you go. ”
  • “ Can a mask be the face of reason? ”
  • “ They’ll never understand. ”
  • “ This will never work out. ”
  • “ We shouldn’t even start. ”
  • “ I’m just a kid at heart. ”
  • “ It’s such a waste. ”
  • “ I’ll never drink again. ”
  • “ Fuck it, I don’t care. ”
  • “ I don’t know what you came here for
  • ” The street’s alive, with glowing lights. “
  • ” I wanna be with you tonight. “
  • ” Everything’s gone. “
  • ” I know I should run and I should hide. “
  • ” For the look in your eyes I could die here tonight. “
  • ” Fate led you down to a path to me. “
  • ” When our eyes met, I could never look away. “
  • ” You’re all I ever wanted. “
  • ” There’s nothing left to say. “
  • ” I will keep you safe from pain. “
  • ” I won’t give up on this perfect love. “
  • ” I write your name down in my heart. “
  • ” It doesn’t really matter now. “
  • ” I can’t believe that I got so far behind. “
  • ” You’re my muse. “
  • ” I’m coming to find you. “
  • ” I don’t love you. “
  • ” We’re not just numbers, we are alive. “
  • ” I should save myself before this gets too real. “
  • ” This was the moment. “
  • ” This was the place. “
  • ” This was the night that everything changed. “
  • ” How could I stay here and rust when I’m set to explode? “
  • ” You think I’m vicious but you don’t know what vicious is. “
  • ” I’m numb from the distance. “
  • ” Where do we fit in? “
  • ” Take what you want from it. “
  • ” Do you remember when the stars were much higher? “
  • ” You mean so much to me. “
  • ” Is it worth the risk that we take? “
  • ” This is our moment and chance to shine. “
  • ” This feels better than the best thing. “
  • ” We are stronger than anything. “
  • ” We’ve grown from all the things we’ve been through. “
  • ” They couldn’t break us if they wanted to. “
  • ” Your smile is brighter than the lights in the sky. “
  • ” Won’t you tell me what is real? “
  • ” Let’s write our names in history. “
  • ” Let’s make these dreams a reality. “
  • ” Who do you think we are? “
  • ” All the lights in the sky are stars. “
  • ” Trust me and we’ll fly not fall. “
  • ” We are complete. “
  • ” Believe in me. “
  • ” There’s three parts to love, or so I believe. “
  • ” I deferred my happiness for loneliness and time. “
  • ” Once I’m where I want to be, you’ll be far behind. “
  • ” The chains that pull me down slacked off when you’re around. “
  • ” Sometimes I disagreed just to hear you scream. “
  • ” You were right. “
  • ” I needed you to give emotion back to me. “
Kierark and Kieran haters

I really tired of haters who use kieran/kierark tag to spread their hate and hurt kierark shippers/kieran’s fans. Marktina shippers are so agressive and rude and wrong. They use the same arguments over and over again. Cassandra said that Kieran isn’t selfish, manipulative and so on, so stop protecting YOUR ship by insulting OURS (i mean kierark). 

Have you guys read “Stars to Burn”? Kieran cared for Mark, protected him, kept him alive. He did’t tell Mark about his feelings. He gave Mark a choice and Mark choose him. Their relationship is beautiful, sad and comlicated. Cassandra could give them a chance in LOS to make their relationship more stable, but she decided to develop unnecessary relationship between Mark and Cristina. 

So I want to say that if you don’t ship kierark please don’t write rude opinions. We don’t need hate here. If you ship Marktina good for you, write about how perfect they are for each other without insulting kieran and kierark. What is more important they started to insult Cassandra for posting things with kieran/kierark. DO NOT BE SO STUPID TO HURT A PERSON FOR A CHARACTER OR A SHIP. She created this world so show some respect. Cassandra knows better if kierark relationship is healthy or not.

Also i’m not saying that all marktina fans are bad. In my fandom they are nice people who have never said a bad word about kieran, kierark and kierark shippers. 

Sorry for my bad english. 

anonymous asked:

This blog is so calming to scroll through THANK YOU

The earth is beautiful. I think it helps in times like these. Small reminders. That despite our human problems, the earth continues to be amazing. It’s easy to forget. Sometimes I stalk my own archive too. In some ways with our busy modern lives we are so disconnected from nature, it’s unfortunate. This strange world of money and politics and jobs and mortgages that we’ve built around ourselves. Maybe we’d all be a little happier if that wasn’t so. Just to be alive, the chances of life, existence. And yet we can’t simply be. In some ways we overthink things, rush around creating problems.  It saddens me sometimes, the world humans have built. Concrete. Plastic. What we are doing to our planet. Billions of years and yet the little time we’ve been here we are killing it already. We are so far removed. So missing the point. To live, to love, to enjoy life and all the rich beauty the world has to offer. I don’t know…  I think about this a lot. I feel a longing to be in these places, to be experiencing them. The peacefulness of nature.. ♡

anonymous asked:

Hi! do you have any new fics in which bucky is some sort of a supernatural being (like a demon/ghost/etc.)? I think I've already read most of the supernatural bucky fics in the library ;-;

check this post! for new fics:

Treasured by Dira Sudis (dsudis), Sealcat

When everyone in town became convinced that a dragon really had come again to the Old Lair, and that the town would have to offer it tribute, they all looked at Steve.

Honestly, he was relieved.

The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat

“Do you want me to eat you?”

“No, but—” Steve broke off his instinctive response. All his life, he’d believed in doing what was right… he was not about to stop now. Wincing at the prickling pain in his feet, he straightened up to his full height. “Yes. If it means you’ll leave this place.”

“But you don’t look very filling.” The tip of the dragon’s tail twitched. “I don’t suppose you’re a virgin?” he asked hopefully. “I’ve heard they taste better.”

since that encounter by Nonymos

Some emissary of darkness has been following Steve Rogers around to steal his eternal soul. Even for a demon, that’s playing with fire.

Waking the Fallen by ScootyPuffJrSucks, SpectralProngs

When Steve and Tony make an unusual discovery among some of Howard’s old things, Steve gets a second chance at life, friendship, and love.

as the winter frost melted in our hands by Spikedluv

Steve is taking some time in Fury’s cabin to adjust to the fact that he woke up in the 21st century when he sees a startling sight: a wolf that looks just like his long-lost friend Bucky. The wolf doesn’t appear to recognize Steve, but Steve just found a reason for being alive in this time: to find out everything that happened with HYDRA and Bucky and determine if Bucky survived the fall from the train.

When The Asset encounters Steve Rogers he feels a sense of familiarity. As he continues to regain his memories he realizes that the mission he’s been assigned by his handlers (to capture or kill Captain America) clashes with an overriding primary imperative: Protect Steve Rogers at all costs.


Request: Hey, i was wondering if you vould write an imagine where Stiles twin sister is dating Derek. Thank you xx

A/N: So I added a bit(okay maybe more than that) of drama, I hope you don’t mind. Also I feel like this isn’t really done but I really just wanted to get this out for you guys 😞 I’m sorry

Derek sat in the hospital room waiting on the Stilinski’s with his normal grumpy face but this time it was more grimmer. Sheriff Stilinski already disliked the fact that his daughter was dating an older werewolf and now he’d most likely kill Derek for this. He didn’t think Kate would be in his apartment, especially not with her shotgun ready to kill him but instead she got someone else. Stiles’ twin sister, you. Although she didn’t intend to she was still happy, she enjoyed seeing Derek suffer physically and mentally.
The cold air seemed to stab Derek’s eyes, making the tears he was holding in want to escape even more. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Derek!” Stiles screamed, outraged that his sister was injured under the watch of this wolf.
Scott gripped Stiles’ Flannel, not wanting his best friend to attack the poor guy. “Relax Stiles.” He whispered. 
“I swear! If she is hurt, I’ll kick your little werewolf ass you ungrateful little cu-”
“Enough!” Derek growled out, standing up from the uncomfortable hospital chair. “Don’t you think I feel bad enough already?” His voice cracked at the end, but he had to stay strong. 
“It was your job to protect her Derek! You don’t deserve her.” Stiles growled, shoving Scott’s iron grip off of him. “Some of us are human!” He shouted, gaining a few looks because to the other strangers in the waiting room everyone was human, but he didn’t care. All caution was thrown out the window when he heard that his younger twin sister had been hurt.
Stiles saw how Derek hesitated and gave up with arguing, he looked away from Stiles with his jaw clenched. He knew it was his fault, he deserved this.
Stiles took this as a chance to continue on, “You can’t just go around believing that we’ll be able to get up just as easily as you would. When your bones break they heal, but ours can’t. We’re not invisible, we make mistakes and we get hurt. The pain you feel only lasts a few seconds while ours’ lasts a week, a month, or maybe even a year. When our life flashes before our eyes we don’t have some hope in the back of our head that maybe we’ll make it out of this alive, that everything’s going to be okay because we can heal ourselves. We can’t do what you can, Derek! You can’t fix this! Did you even stop to think that she might die because of you or did you think that we would find some way to fix this because that’s what we always do? None of us, not me, not my father, not even the doctors, can ‘fix’ this like you can, because we’re human! If you can’t ‘fix’ this mess you made then don’t even think for one second that we’ll be able to do better than you.” All while Stiles shouted, his father finally appeared, still in uniform, he looked at his son and then the man his daughter loved. Stiles words made everything seem more real to Derek and his father, his words hurt them.
Listening to what Stiles had to say was one of the hardest things he had to endure, because he was right. Derek wasn’t able to save you. He couldn’t protect you. He caused this, this was his fault and he didn’t know how to fix it.


Gift for @elnawen​ based on this AU (you won’t understand what’s below if you don’t read/click this link)

My dearest Cas,

I hope you’re doing well since you sent your last letter. I heard the bombings at the French Front haven’t been going well. I guess if a member of the Team Free Will trio had been killed I would have heard, but I’m very worried.

After months of trying to forget the “greatest betrayer of all time,” the guys in charge have finally realized I actually am loyal to my country. Perks of being the best spy; nobody trusts me. I am still frowned upon and some want me executed. The only thing that’s convinced me that I still deserve to live is reading your letters.

I have an assignment with the army nerds now. What we do is obviously classified, but you love ‘enigmas’ and I know you have the clearance. The team is full of geniuses. There is a girl named Charlie and I can barely understand what she says most of the time, exactly like Kevin. She’s a lesbian, though not openly, of course. Kevin looks like a Jap, poor boy, though I think he’s Vietnamese. We are the trash the army would like to get rid of, but they can’t because they need our talent.

I had a nightmare the other day. Not like one of the nightmares about Alistair. It was after debriefing. They told me leave, so I went to a bar for the night. When I was leaving, I was ambushed. I fought, of course, thinking they were some of Alistair’s men, because I’m sure the bastard is still tracking me down.

But they weren’t Alistair’s. One of them was my captain and when I recognized him, he told me undercover agents like me were a liability for the Allies, and I had to be executed.

I woke up screaming. I consider myself fortunate to know you and your powerful family. I am sure if you hadn’t been there to pull some strings, I would already be dead or worse - back with Alistair.

On another subject, you should find a little package with this letter. When I saw this necklace I knew it was for you. The color is just like your eyes. How sappy is this? I was told it’s a lucky charm. I guess we should put all chances on our side, right?

I am sorry this letter isn’t really happy. I feel so useless in the back, worrying for you, Sam, and Meg. I know you are all freaking gods of the sky, but the three of you are in my thoughts every day.

Please bring back my baby brother alive and well.
Come back to me, my love. I am waiting.

All my love forever,


please don’t delete caption or you will be blocked. no repost either duh.