this is the sound of my heart aching

My lips haven’t stopped talking about you since you first kissed me. My eyes haven’t stopped looking in your direction since you first came into view. My hands haven’t stopped aching to be held by yours since you first touched me. And my heart hasn’t stopped beating to the sound of your name since you took up residence inside of it
—  April 25th 4:37pm

i. meeting you: when I saw you, the world didn’t reroute on a new axis but the stars seemed to glimmer a little more than I remembered them doing the night before. from the moment our hands brushed, something in me shivered, some part of my heart shook, a form of a yes. a yes, you belong in my life, a yes, you are meant to matter. but we clashed in a storm of fire and ice and it took me what looking back seems like a lifetime to realize that you’ve changed me, that a part of me recognized your scars as the same as mine the moment you spoke a part of my name.

ii. understanding you: it took breaking, it took sobbing in the middle of night and realizing that yes I can be alone with you. it’s this moment, where I see you looking at me, not like you can save me, no. but like you recognize the shadows dancing on my skin, the faint bruises and clenched fists and the ache inside my heart. And the world grows quiet, like it’s giving this moment the weight it deserves, and it’s in the darkness that I realize we can change the universe.

iii. trusting you: and our hands grow bloody as our hearts open, spilling part of us on the ground that the other picks up and remakes. forging a sword, a shield, a song out the echoes we let break away from our souls. somehow I realize the voice in the back of my mind, giving me hope, giving me faith, sounds a lot like yours, it sounds like the way you say my name and I say yours the same way. as absolution, as something almost like salvation, as a need that I can’t live without

iv. loving you: and it’s when you’re threatened, it’s when you’re hurt and the rage that raises up inside me contains the bitten scream of “mine”. it’s when you take my hand, you take my burden like I haven’t transformed myself into atlas to save you. It’s when you gaze into my eyes like i’m something worth worshipping, like i’m something worth burning the universe for. and it comes and goes in waves until one day I wake up and my first thought is you, and when I dream the last name I utter is yours

v. losing you: but the stars that stayed silent at our turning point aren’t content to watch us, no they want to test us but they didn’t understand that loving you  stopped being something that scared me the moment I realized it because, darling, I don’t know where you end and where I begin.  so yes, I lost you to space and time, I nearly lost you to fate but we were always fighters and so I know you’ll come back to me, I know you’ll come home to me.  and our devotion outstrips the fairytales because we were never guaranteed a happy ending, with our dirty hands, with our sly smiles, with our cuts and scars but we’ve made the constellations want to chart our names


  vi. finding you:  when we crash back together, the world narrows down to the sound of a beating heart, pounding loud enough to be a greek chorus and it’s a welcome change from the way my chest seemed empty. I always knew that in a crowd of thousands I’d be able to meet your eyes, to find you. and with our smiles the universe restarts, with my name dropping from your lips the sun reignites, because we are the center of the story, from the beginning up till now and we’re only just past the first chapter.

—  The 5 Stages of Loving You by Abby S

1. You and your love are both soft and haunted and some people will come into your life and take that softness for granted. This is just how the world is, my darling, diamonds exist but so do wolves and sometimes it is the diamonds that we need to watch out for because they are made of cold and wolves still have heartbeats and are just misunderstood. Navigating the world is a hard thing, especially for girls who are made of story flavoured madness and seeking happy endings here that are harder than finding a pearl in the deepest part of ocean.

2. I have known of too many girls who have both become and died in the embrace of men that should have loved them better but chose to let them go. Both Gods and men tend to treat dreamers and romantics with an equal part of disdain and neglect. I have ached for them, but watching sadness does things to a persons mind and heart.

3. My cousin was a small girl with dreams the size of a country and determination made of a bullet that penetrated every job she ever did. I never once saw her fail and then she fell in love. Even bullets can dissolve when put in enough heat. Watching her melt from a gun to a wound was enough to teach me that alone had a lovely sound to it.

4. Alone and lonely are two different things. Alone means nights with my books. Alone means quiet star gazing and drinking tea drinking on my roof. Alone means hours of self aware retrospection in a coffee shop whilst scribbling poetry. But most importantly alone means not wilting into the arms of a man who may not appreciate the stars and poetry. Lonely is carnal. Lonely is craven. Lonely is sad.

5. I thought I was safe in my alone. But love is a wicked predator, it found my hiding place even in a forest. To do so, it set my beautiful forest of alone on fire.

6. For a while, we were happy. For a while, love almost had me believe that I was wrong. Until the day you left, like a hurricane leaves the ocean. For good.

7. I crumbled. Picked myself up. And crumbled again. Eventually I lost track of how many times I had to get up. Eventually you began to fade into the graveyard of the still living people that have abandoned me in my head.

8. I am better now. The forest of my alone finally has grown back from the ashes. Bigger and better than before, my alone is beautiful. It is slowly filling the graves you left inside me with self love and healing. My alone is softer with my heart than your love has ever left it feeling.

—  Nikita Gill, Alone
dating jasper hale would include...

Originally posted by jacksonrathbons

hanging onto his every word because you adored his subtle, but sometimes thick, southern drawl.
him enunciating his words to make it sound thicker  
you are insanely infatuated with him
he loves every second of it, wearing a small smirk all the while
his nose buried in your hair; he loves breathing in your scent
his head on your chest; the sound of your heart beating comforts him like none other
your fingers raking through his long locks
listening to him open up about his past as a soldier
feeling your heart ache at the pain behind his topaz eyes
you being a bit uneducated about history (and rather uninterested)
he begins to call you ‘little girl’ at your lack of knowledge & experience in life
the pet name sticks much to your dismay
“i am not a little girl, jasper!”
“march 5th, 1770. what historical event was that, my love?”
“jasper, you’re a dick.”
“such a dirty mouth for such a little girl.”
nearly puking your guts out when the time came to meet his family
him having to calm you down with his power a lot
dancing around his bedroom to very old records he owns
he teaches you to dance since he’s an excellent dancer
you’re incredibly clumsy, especially around jasper
he thinks it’s highly amusing & only embarrasses you more when he gracefully catches you or swiftly retrieves something you dropped
— him catching you off guard a lot
he likes to dip you nearly to the floor & kiss you unexpectedly
it never gets old & it makes you feel cherished each time he does it
catching alice gazing at the two of you, smiling as she sees visions of the future
when he proposes, alice sees the vision & spoils it as she’s horrible at keeping secrets
cheesy, lame vampire jokes
“i heard being a vampire really sucks.” 
“you’re horrible at jokes, little girl.”
but he actually is quite fond of them since they make you laugh
teasing him about sparkling in the sun
“shine bright like a diamond, jas!”
those remarks often end up with you trying to outrun him, but obviously failing
him watching you sleep; he loves seeing you look so peaceful
he calls you darlin’ 24/7
you love it because his accent grows thicker
— he’s a huge sap
him handling you with impeccable care, as if you’re made of glass

ok idk how i’ve never really noticed or cared about jasper in the twilight series and i’m so pissed at myself because he’s actually so great and attractive

anonymous asked:

Any tips for writing the character's personalities and speech? Thank you.

Here’s a piece of unflavored base dialogue vs how it would sound from each of the main 3:

Hello. Thank you for coming to meet me here. I have something important to tell you. First, let’s order something. [order]. Anyway, we have to stop seeing each other. It makes me very sad and I wish it didn’t have to be this way. But what can I do? Choose you over [important life choice]? I can’t do that. I’m sorry, but this is goodbye.

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Summer Playlist

Aries: “Let’s get lost you can take me home, somewhere nice we can be alone, bikini tops coming off” // Lady Gaga, Summerboy

Taurus: “And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind, I can never leave the past behind. I can see no way, i can see no way, I’m always dragging that horse around” // Florence + the Machine, Shake It Out

Gemini: “She was mine, I was hers, And all that’s in between. If she would cry, I would shelter her, and keep her from the darkness that will be” // Ed Sheeran, Sunburn

Cancer: “If you are breathing in my tears, I won’t let them dry. If you’re still squirming in my scar, I won’t let it heal. Even if it hurts, it’s okay if it’s you. Even if they are sad memories, it’s okay if they’re mine” Lee Hi ft. Jennie Kim, Special

Leo:  “So don’t you worry your pretty little mind, People throw rocks at things that shine and life makes love look hard.  The stakes are high, the water’s rough, But this love is ours” // Taylor Swift, Ours

Virgo: “What is love if you’re not here with me? What is love if it’s not guaranteed? What is love if it just ups and leaves? What is love if you’re not here no more? What is love if you’re not really sure?” // V Bozeman, What is Love

Libra: “I’ll be as honest as you let me, I miss your early morning company, if you get me. You are my favorite ‘what if’. You are my best ‘I’ll never know’” // Fall Out Boy // Fourth of July 

Scorpio: “We’re nothing like we seem, passionate words are never spoken. You don’t know how I bleed when I leave your side” // Beyoncé, Satellites 

Sagittarius: “Moods that take me and erase me, and I’m painted black. You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself. It’s time that you won” // Glen Hansard, Falling Slowly

Capricorn: “You hold me without touch, You keep me without chains. I never wanted anything so much, than to drown in your love and not feel your rain” // Sarah Bareilles, Gravity 

Aquarius: “Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing through my open ears, inciting and inviting me. Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns and calls me on and on, across the universe” // The Beatles, Across The Universe 

Pisces: “Take my hand, stay Joanne. Heaven’s not ready for you. Every part of my aching heart needs you more than the angels do” // Lady Gaga, Joanne 

in which jack does not, in fact, go into the NHL

AN: the sequel to this piece. 
TW: Suicidal thoughts, career changes, hard conversations.

When the confetti rained down in the other team’s colors, Jack felt a cold wave of numbness wash over him.

I don’t want to be alive anymore, he thought, chest tightening with shame and fear. I want to die.

A pause. A breath.


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Why are You like this?

Hi friends! 

Plot: Y/N feels overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to let her Harry know.

I combined my own idea with a request about H hearing Y/N admit something over the phone. 

Hint before reading: Take a moment and think of that one thing that’s overwhelming you right in this moment, the one thing that makes your stomach feel sick and the one thing that keeps you up at night. Okay now you can read it.

Pic isn’t mine but I like to think that it is.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” 

My throat dried when I allowed my eyes to meet with his sparkling green orbs and the pure worry in them made it difficult not to tear up. With a deep breath I forced myself to smile. 

“Everything is fine, Harry,” I promised him, my tone just sweet enough for it to cover up the lie, “It was a long day.”

“Again?” Harry inquired quietly. 

“Again.” I tried to laugh but got up to walk to the kitchen when I failed.

Ever since the beginning of this week there had been a heavy and uncomfortable feeling settled at the bottom of my stomach making me feel so sick at times I believed I would vomit. 
But I couldn’t let it show. 

“Do you want some tea?” I called towards him.

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, beautiful.”

With trembling fingers I reached for the kettle and I closed my eyes in hopes of calming down enough to keep my distraught emotions a secret. And what better than a hot cup of tea?
There was nothing I loved more than spending time with Harry and if I could I would have him near me at all times. I felt myself long for him when he was gone, fantasized about being in his presence when I wasn’t and when I had him I felt at peace. Momentarily. Harry made me feel warm and without knowing it he’d become the only person who managed to decorate my face with an honest smile. We hadn’t been dating for long, only a couple of months, and it was true that we were happy. Never before had I felt this close to another person, never before did I trust somebody with my whole heart and no one had ever understood me the way that Harry did.
Harry was my everything. 
And still I couldn’t find it in me to trust him with my worried mind. 

It wasn’t that I thought Harry wouldn’t be kind. I knew if I were to tell him that I couldn’t find any peace and that not even the nights provided me with rest, he would try all he could to be supportive. 
What held me back from confiding in him was how utterly ridiculous I felt. Harry had so much going on in his life, he was under constant pressure and given even more from all sides and all at once and still he never uttered as much as one word in complaint. 
Me? I felt like crying when dealing with what was so minor compared to other people’s problems. 
How could I possibly admit this without making a fool of myself?

“Y/N?” I heard Harry’s voice call for me. 

My breath hitched and I quickly finished both of our teas. “Coming!”

Hearing my friend’s voice over the speaker of my phone relaxed me. At least a little. Kat hadn’t had the time to talk properly in a while due to her job taking up a lot of space in her life and selfishly it felt good to hear that I wasn’t the only person who wasn’t having the best week. 

“So anyway,” Kat spoke, “Things took a turn to the better when the guy I told you about showed up again. I think he recovered form the flu or something.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She chuckled. “I bet your day gets better the moment you have Harry around to comfort you.” 

“Well,” I sighed, “Having him around does bring me joy.” 

When my voice quivered I knew I messed up.

Kat cleared her throat. “What’s the matter? Does he not understand or what?”

“I’m sure he would,” I muttered. 


I didn’t reply. Kat laughed breathlessly. 

“You seriously didn’t tell him? Y/N, he’s your boyfriend! And if I receive text after text about how shitty everything is going for you then something really must be up.”

A lump formed in my throat and I let out a small whine. “I don’t know how to talk to him about this thought.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged even though she couldn’t see. “Harry has so much going on in his life. Never does he get a break not even on his days off. How could I burden him with my stupid and silly problems when his mind is full of much more important things?”

“Because he’s your boyfriend!” Kat repeated. 

“Is that your answer to everything?”

“In a relationship it’s about being there for each other,” Kat lectured, ignoring my words, “You support him constantly. It’s time you let him do the same for you.”

My head snapped up at the noise of my front door opening and then falling shut. 

“Y/N? You home, baby?” My heart fluttered at his voice.

“That’s Harry,” I quickly informed Kat, “I got to go.”

With fast steps I walked further into the bedroom and away from where I could hear Harry moving closer towards me.

“Of course,” Kat said and I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just remember. You have to be honest with Harry and tell him how you feel. Otherwise you’re being unfair to him.”

“I know,” I agreed lowly, “I know you’re right.”

Harry’s knuckles lightly knocked onto the wooden door and I turned around to look at him with a smile growing on my face. He looked insanely good. His hair was tousled from the clod wind I knew was tormenting outside, his upper body adorned a thick jumper and his legs were forced into much too tight jeans which to my benefit left little to the imagination. 

“Hey,” I breathed.

“Hi.” His voice was quiet and I shuddered when the smile on his face didn’t reach his beautiful eyes. 

I walked over to him and reached for his arm. “I’m just going to finish this call really quickly, okay? Then I’m all yours.”

“S’okay,” Harry said and shrugged off my touch, “I just came over to return the shirt you left at my place the other day. M’actually bit busy so I’m just going to head out again.”

My heart sank. “I thought you would stay tonight?” 

Harry nodded towards the phone in my palm. “You should’t let your friend wait, Y/N. Wouldn’t want you to be unfair to anybody, right?” 

And with that he turned around, out of my reach and towards the exit. The shirt he’d brought me was carelessly thrown onto the mattress and I watched him leave with tears already burning my eyes. What the hell had just happened?

“Y/N? You still there?” 

Kat’s voice ripped me back from my thoughts and I quickly told her that I was fine and needed to go. Then I hung up. 
Great. Now not even my relationship was something I could find comfort in. There was no point in running after him as I new Harry moved fast and since he’d arrived by car I was sure he must be long gone. With my palms ice cold, my legs weak and my stomach in knots I sat down on the bed I’d thought I would be spending the night with Harry on, feeling the most uncomfortable and unhappy and in in general at a low I hadn’t reached before.
There was no way I could hold back the tears from burning my cheeks and soon I was a sobbing mess, laying alone on the cold fabric of my bed.

From Harry, 7:20pm.
I’m sorry I left like that, love. How about I come back over and we spend the night together like we planned? x

From Harry, 7:22pm. 
Don’t ignore me now. I know I was being harsh. A bit of a dick actually and I wanna make up for that. Please let me, baby. xx

From Harry, 7:23pm. 
I heard your conversation with Kat. 

With puffy eyes I stared at the three messages. I breathed in shakily and shook my head before picking up the device to reply. There was no way I could face him when I was like this. I felt ashamed enough as it is and couldn’t bear the thought of letting my boyfriend see me in this weakened state.

From Y/N, 7:30pm.
It’s okay, Harry, no worries. I’m a bit tired though. Don’t think that hanging out tonight is a good idea. I’m sorry. x

From Y/N, 7:33pm.
If you want we could meet up tomorrow?

Teardrops smeared the screen and I brushed them off quickly in order to read Harry’s reply. My heart sank even further upon reading it.

From Harry, 7:34pm.
If that’s what you want.

It was what I’d wanted. Still, my chest crumbled and the room filled once more with desperate and loud cries as I let it sink in that I’d successfully driven Harry away. A shaking palm clasped over my mouth as I attempted to somehow quieten the noises of my breakdown as I didn’t want to alarm my neighbours. 
What was I supposed to do? What was I to tell him tomorrow? That was if he even wanted to see me.
My eyes were sore, my throat dry and slowly but surely everything began to hurt. Really ache. 

My entire body froze and I forced myself to calm down long enough to make sure I hadn’t heard wrong. No. There was once again the distinct sound of somebody knocking on my front door. Oh god please no. I scrambled to my feet with hurried movements and came to a tumbling stand. With harsh movements I brushed the tears from my smeared cheeks. 

“Y/N.” It was quiet but I heard and my heart began to pound heavily in my chest. What was he doing here?

“Harry?” I asked, my voice small and trembling weakly. 

I sniffled noisily and tried to steady my breath. 

“Course it’s me, love,” Harry hummed, his voice gentle, “Mind opening the door for me? Letting me in, sweetheart?”

“Harry, I really don’t think-”

“I hear it, baby,” he spoke softly, “You’re crying.” His voice sounded so sad, so empty of the anger it held earlier. 

The pet names spoken with so much affection, the gentleness in his words and tone… I couldn’t fight any longer. 
With uncertain fingers I unlocked my front door and before I could turn the handle I had Harry’s arms wrapped around my waist as he forced his way into my apartment. 
Breathing in his scent as I nestled my face into the warm space between his shoulder and his neck, one of my hands wound itself into his short curls while the other clasped the back of his neck. Harry’s arms tightened around my body, bringing me impossibly close to his chest as he pushed the both of us further inside. I didn’t see but I heard him shut the door with his foot. 

“Harry,” I whimpered, trying desperately to step away from him, worried that the endless stream of tears would mess up his jumper. 

“No.” Harry’s embrace was tight. He ignored my protest and instead hoisted me up higher so that he could carry me to the couch in my small living room. 

I was full on sobbing by this point, my desperation only increasing when he let go of me after making me sit on the couch. My arms were taken into his hands and I turned my head away when he crouched down. 

“Y/N, look at me.”

I shook my head, a whimper escaping my parted lips. Harry’s hands moved gently, his fingers drew circles onto my skin. Normally the gesture was enough to calm me down but not today. I felt utterly embarrassed and I knew that Harry slowly began to realize too that this wasn’t just a small and simple break down. 
This was me, crumbling after having suffered under too much pressure for too long. This was me truly breaking down and falling apart right in front of his eyes.
I gasped upon feeling him press his face into my open palms. 

“My sweet girl,” Harry breathed into my hands, “Tell me if there is something that I can do for you, you hear?”

“There- there’s no-nothing, Harry.” I swallowed shakily and stared at the back of his head. 

Slowly he looked up at me, green eyes wide, kind and patient. His warm hands clasped mine and my breath hitched when his heart shaped lips pressed a loving kiss to them. 

“That’s okay, too,” he reassured, “In that case I will just do what I think you need right now, yeah? And if you want something different you tell me.” 

He waited for me to nod, a small smile gracing his lips. Harry got to his feet quickly and immediately I was scooped back into his arms and brought to his chest. I hiccuped and Harry chuckled. 
His body settled onto the couch and I gasped when he placed my own body right on top of his, my back pressed to his chest. His face settled into my neck and I shuddered upon feeling his warm breath. One of Harry’s arms wrapped around my middle while he gently touched my forehead with his other hand, making me rest my head on his shoulder. 
I sighed and turned so I could nudge his neck with my nose. Next a blanket was pulled over my form, making sure that I was warm. 

“Harry,” I whispered into his skin. 

He intertwined our legs together before kissing my cheek. 

“No more crying,” he said lowly, chest rumbling against my back, “It breaks my heart to see you like this. Which doesn’t mean that I want you to ever keep it from me again when you feel this way.”

The terrible knot at the bottom of my stomach loosened and the longer I breathed him in the more I could feel my heart relax. My breathing slowed, the tears slowly ceased from falling. My own arms wrapped around his and our hands found each other. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized against his skin.

He shook his head and squeezed me. “No, no, my love. S’not what I want. You don’t have to apologize for anything. All I want is that you trust me. That you know that I’m here. Always.”

“I want to see you.” 

Careful not to hurt him I turned to lay on my stomach, my body pressed tightly against his chest and I leaned up to press a kiss to his soft skin of his chin. 
Harry groaned lowly at the sensation. 

“You’re my girlfriend,” Harry murmured, his hands rubbing up and down my back, “You can lean on me. Confide in me. Don’t want hear that you’re unwell and hiding it.”

I hummed.

“Are you comfortable?” I wondered quietly, referring to his position.

“Very,” he assured me with a nod, cheekily grabbing my bum and giving it a squeeze. 

I swatted his chest with a laugh and he removed his hands and settled them onto my hips instead. I found it hard to believe that having my body sprawled out on top of his was in any way comfortable but in this moment I knew there was nothing other than being in his arms that would heal my tormented mind.

“S’embarrassing though,” I admitted quietly, my unsure eyes finding his. 

“S’not,” he argued, “S’part of being in a relationship. I’m yours, you’re mine and we’re both there for each other.”

I liked how natural his words sounded. How much sense they made.

“But,” I began, “what I’m dealing with is so stupid and you-”

“And I’m never too busy to take care of you just like I trust in you always being there when I really need you. And nothing that makes you cry is stupid to me.”

Harry smiled kindly and I could feel myself doing the same. Gently I reached up to cup his cheek and a tiny gasp escaped my mouth before his lips found mine in a loving kiss. Instantly I melted into him. 
His hands held me close, my own scratched his cheek while the other held onto his hair and for the first time all week I felt like I could truly breath. Harry’s presence took over all of my senses as I cuddled myself even more into his embrace. We continued to kiss until my lungs burned and this time when I teared up it was because my heart couldn’t hold the amount of happiness. 

“Why are you like this?” I whispered, staring at my handsome boyfriend with wonder in my eyes. 

He smiled and pressed another kiss to my temple. “Because you’re important to me. I need you to know that, love.”

“I do. Thank you so much, Harry. And I care about you, too. So much.”

Another kiss followed to my lips before Harry drew back to rub his nose against mine in a heartbreakingly sweet gesture. 

Hope you liked this! Wrote it in one go so apologizes for any mistakes. Also, if any of you are dealing with something shitty at the moment I have my fingers crossed for you and know you’ll be alright. x

The rest of my writing: 

Today I wrote you out of my life. It didn’t end with good bye or one final tear, I just sort of ran out of words. I could no longer fill lines with words describing my broken heart. I could not enunciate the ache I felt in my heart that plagued me each night I went to bed without a call from you and each morning I woke up to no text. My prolonged dramatic poems about how much you meant to me no longer flowed from my heart like a beautiful but tragic symphony. And when I made the effort to picture your smile I saw myself happy without you. And when I went to write your name next to mine it didn’t fit. You know how you can repeat a word so many times that it sounds off so you try to spell it but you’re not sure if you’re spelling it correctly and then suddenly it looks like the wrong word all together? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure if your middle name had one R or two, but I was sure that in my mouth your name tasted bitter and so I spit it out one last time. Today I wrote you out of my life. It didn’t end with a dramatic goodbye or one final tear, I guess I sort of just ran out of words.
—  teedaawg

A friend recently asked me why I wasn’t sleeping anymore. Every reason that I could think of sounded pathetic, even to me. I couldn’t explain why the thought of sleeping, of dreaming, makes my heart ache, why I instinctively shy away from even thinking about it.

In the end, I gave some blanket excuse about insomnia, though I knew it was only part of the truth. I struggled with it for days; how do I put into words the apprehension sleep invokes in me?

It finally occurred to me today: dreams are fleeting, they end and then you wake up to a reality that is nothing like how you want it to be. Dreams only foster false hope; consciousness is a brutal reminder that my dreams are not real and you are not here.

—  I can always lie to myself while I’m awake.
single dad!jack meets pig-owning neighbor!bitty

<<Papa, look, a pig!>>

Jack straightened up from setting down the stack of moving boxes and followed Chloe’s line of sight. <<Is that…a leash?>> He asked, bewildered. Because, yes, in fact, the large, snorting pig was being walked down the sidewalk by a rather handsome man in a dirt-covered shirt and pants.

<<Can I pet it?>> Chloe asked, tugging at Jack’s shirt harder than he would have expected from a eight-year-old. She was, however, a Zimmermann, and thus could be moved to great feats of strength when properly motivated. <<Please?>>

“Alright,” Jack relented, taking her hand before she could dash across the street. “But you have to ask the man for permission–and introduce yourself. I know your mother taught you better manners than that.”

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just a friendly face || derek hale (!!)

author: @broodybell
pairing: derek x reader
word count: 2,816

warnings: NSFW !! 

authors note: i’ve had major derek feels lately and i just really needed to write some derek smut, this was originally gonna be for stiles, but this worked out better than my idea for him. anyway, enjoy!

summary: derek loses all control when reader goes on a date and gets stood up. 

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so following this, here are some new viktuuri fics:

Yuuri remembers first truly realizing what the sudden appearance of symbols on the back of his hand meant sometime around the age of ten. And then the murders began. (Unwritten, by kaizuka)

Yuuri’s sitting at his desk late at night when the clock on Yuuri’s laptop clicks to midnight and a notification set for that day makes a small ‘ding’. And then the murders began. (You Can’t Plan For Everything, by RivDev)

Yuuri fell in love with Viktor’s skating from the very first moment he saw him. And then the murders began. (Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches, by Reiya)  

“Yuuri, I have an idea.” And then the murders began. (all the world’s a stage, by braveten)

so, fun game! replace the second line in the fic you’re currently reading/writing with the above phrase and let me know what it sounds like :’D

After the 13x02 sneak peek. Inspired by one of the amazing 13x01 codas I read, but I can’t remember which one!

“Okay. Alright. Would you stop?!”

Jack is, once again, confused. Big fucking surprise.

“I… don’t understand,” he says, squinting. Dean almost can’t look at him when he does that. Swallowing thickly, he takes a huge bite of his burger, ignoring Sam’s quiet noise of disgust as he does. Seriously, fuck him. Fuck everything.

“My father—Castiel, my real, true father, he said you were a good man. He spoke to my mother of you often.”

Dean feels like all the air has left the room.

“Jack…” he hears Sam say, softly. Carefully. What’s left of Dean’s heart throbs with that dull, aching pain that never seems to quit in response. He doesn’t want pity.

“I ain’t a good role model, okay?” Dean says gruffly. He takes a swig of beer. Jack is still.

“Castiel thought you were.”

Dean laughs so he doesn’t cry. It’s an empty, ugly sound, and it seems only to confuse Jack further. Scooting closer on the couch, the nephilim leans in like a better view of Dean’s breaking heart will afford him a complete understanding of the situation. 

“Castiel loved you greatly,” he says, like he’s trying to figure it all out. “He would have followed you anywhere. And, in fact, he did. I was inside him. I know you went to purgatory together. I know he loved you, but… in a different way than he loved my mother. What he felt for her was superficial—nothing at all, compared to what he felt for you.”

Dean buries his face in his hands. He feels like a circus side show. He feels like throwing his beer bottle across the room. 

“I don’t understand,” Jack says again. “My mother said Castiel would take care of me. That he would teach me. But he’s not here… and he learned everything from you. If my mother loved me with a certain depth that resembles what Castiel felt for you, does that not make you the perfect model of humanity?”

And that’s it. Dean can’t stay here anymore. Not when this kid is supposed to be the enemy. Not when he keeps talking about Cas. Not when Sam is looking at him like all he can see what’s happening and is sorry for it. Dean stands, spilling food onto the floor, and carelessly bumping his leg on the coffee table as he rushes out the door. 


Bruised Love

Warnings: Cursing, loneliness

Word count: 1,522

Summary: Harry has been avoiding (Y/N) lately making her feel unwanted and lonely, as he pushed her away causing her to keep trying to love him and make him notice her, but only to bring her more ache to the heart.

Note: This is also my first imagine ever, so please excuse me for any errors or grammar. I hope to make more imagines in the future and get better at it. I hope you guys enjoy this.

Part 2 Part 3

It was late, real late. The moon was shining through the open peeks in the curtains, illuminating the corners of darkness in the cold bedroom. I shift my body on the sheets so I was facing his back, the moon light gleaming onto his bare skin. The only sounds that could be heard was the light snores coming from his open mouth, even breaths escaping it.

The space between us was cold and lonely. His warmth wrapped up into the covers all to himself, as I tried to keep myself warm. Harry has been acting weird towards me, and I don’t know why. Whenever I would try and talk to him, he’ll ignore me or go the opposite direction to avoid me. It all started near the end of tour. I had stopped getting calls and texts from him and for some reason even the boys stopped talking to me. I didn’t understand what was going on and when he got back from tour it only got worse. He didn’t even kiss me or showed me any affection when he walked through the front door. 

I was in the kitchen after his mom called me on the phone, to tell me he was coming home, since he wouldn’t contact me. I wanted to make his favorite chocolate cake, along with some banana muffins. I figured this would brighten up his mood and loosen the stress that was balled up in him. Seeing his green orbs light up like a 4 year old along with a big grin that always made me melt and fall for him even more. 

When I heard the door unlocking I came running to the door with the cake in my hands as the smell of chocolate filled up the house, leaving a huge smile on my face as I watched him open the door. I was ready to be kissed all over, feeling his warmth surround me with love. But by my surprise, he opened the door catching eye contact before he closed the door with his foot. 

“Welcome home baby” I smiled walking up to him holding the cake out, gesturing for him to take it. He looked at me and then the cake for what felt like forever, before he pushed past me, his shoulder harshly hitting mine causing me to drop the cake that took me hours to make because I kept messing up. A loud gasp fell between my lips as I tried to catch it, but failed. I fell to my knees quickly cleaning up the mess as I heard the door upstairs to our room slam shut, making every bone in my body jump from the harsh loudness. I should have known the minute that had happened something was wrong, but I decided to shrug it off, convincing myself it was just an accident or that he was having a bad day and he needed some space. And that’s what I gave him, space.

Who would of known that space turned into a 2 weeks of me being alone and upset from how he was treating me, along with different mixtures of emotions running through my body. This week felt like he was drifting away from me more and more. Most nights he wouldn’t even come home to eat dinner or even sleep with me in our bed. I couldn’t even remember the last time we made love or even heard the words ‘I love you’. I haven’t slept in days or even eaten. 

Sometimes I felt as if he wouldn’t look at me or talk to me cause he was disgusted with what he saw. So my insecurities lead me to starve myself and would punish myself by not sleeping whenever food crossed my mind. I wanted him to touch me again, look at me again, showed me he cared again. Today felt like it was working, he finally came home tonight early and slept in our bed. 

Maybe he was coming back to me. Ready to show me his love towards me. The sun started to peek through the windows shining brightly throughout the room showing all the lovely decorations and colors of the room. I glanced up at him watching him move to grab his phone to see the time before sitting up and stretching. I slowly got up not thinking twice about my movements as I scooted up to him and place a kiss on his shoulder. 

“Morning sunshine” I hummed slightly running my fingertips along the exposed skin of his bare arms. I felt his body tense up while I kiss his ear lobe. 

“Morning” I heard him mutter. My heart jumped at his voice. It was deep and rusty considering he had just woke up. 

“What are you doing today? I was hoping we cou-” I was cut off as my body was pushed back away from him, causing me to hold on to the sheets so I wouldn’t fall off the bed. 

“Nothing that concerns you,” he utter rather harshly before he got up and walked into the bathroom loudly closing the door behind him. I bit my inner cheek trying to hold back the tears. The tears that I have held in since he got here. I wasn’t going to let them fall, not now at least. I mentally curse at myself for getting to touchy with him. I just couldn’t help it. I miss him.  

When I heard the shower head come on, I took this as an opportunity to go make him some breakfast. Getting up and rushing downstairs to the kitchen I started to make all the breakfast I could make. Eggs, bacon, sausage, and fried apples.

“Maybe this might make him feel better” I mumble to myself as I lined the bacon up on the pan. The smell traveled throughout the house, while I turned on some music to dance to. 10 minutes had passed and I was already done with breakfast. Hearing footsteps coming down the steps, hinting me it was time to fix his plate and turn the music down.

“I made breakfast for you” I said, when I saw him walk into the kitchen and laid his plate on the counter. 

“I’m not hungry” he sneered walking to the coffee machine. 

“Oh come on, here, I made it especially for you. See I put a smiley face on it with the food I made” I chuckled to myself, pointing out the cute little face I had made. 

“I said I’m not hungry” he utter a little harsher than before. I knew at that moment I should’ve stopped talking and moved on, but I just couldn’t. I wanted to make sure he ate well, before I watched him leave and no telling when he will be back.
“Well at least take something with yo-” I jumped at the sudden impact of his fist hitting the counter hard, causing me to stop talking. Good job (Y/N), you fucked up now.  

“What part dose 'I’m not hungry’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!!” He howled, his back facing me, as his  back muscles tense up through he silk fabric of his blouse.

“I-I’m sorry, I j-just wanted you to a-t least eat b-before you g-go” I stutter, fear and guilt running through my veins.

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU WANT!!” he roared turning around to face me his eyes starring into mine for the first time in a while, causing my heart to skip a beat. My breath hitched in my throat as I saw his face. His eyes weren’t his loving green ones I came to love, instead they were a darker shade. He had stress lines on his forehead as his hair was in a glorious mess. His brows coming together showing the anger in him. I shouldn’t have pushed him this far. I just kept messing up, ruining any chances I had left for him to love me again.

“I’m sorry” was the only words that managed to come out. I was hurt by his choice of words, causing my heart to pound in pure agony.

An unexpected tear had escaped my eye, quickly whipping it so he wouldn’t see me like this. I didn’t want him to see me suffer from his chosen words that stab me hard, but more started to come down as I found myself looking away from him and down at the ground.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me…” I said turning towards the door.

“Trust me, I won’t” I heard him spat loud and clear. his words were so bitter and caused more damage to me, than any of the ones he spoke to me in the past weeks. He doesn’t need me anymore. A small whimper left my lips before I was able to stop it as I walked out the kitchen, to leave him there. I walked up the stairs slowly trying to see through my blurry vision from the tears, while I made my way to our bedroom and locking myself in there to drown in my own pain as the tears never stopped coming down.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

They’re in a gas station, the bigger kind, the one that has space to sell inexplicably tacky things to unsuspecting tourists. The first thing Dean does upon stepping foot inside is duck down the first aisle he sees. He’s been in a car way too long with Jack. Any privacy, however limited, he can find will be a luxury.

Sam, to his credit, doesn’t make a fuss about being handed babysitting duty. Then again, the guy seems to like the spawn of Satan. Dean feigns interest in the shelf of packaged snacks, but quickly falls into a painfully familiar habit: chips for him, protein bar for Sam, and for Cas–

–he drops the snacks and hurries out of the aisle, making a beeline for the alcohol. Dean opens the refrigerated door, breathing carefully to avoid the lump forming in his throat as he grabs one, then two 6-packs. He knows what Sam’ll say, but Dean finds he doesn’t care. He stumbles towards the check-out, when a conversation between Jack and Sam stops him dead in his tracks.

Jack’s holding a goofy plastic sign with the inscription: Home Is Where the Heart Is. He squints at it with this painfully familiar expression that makes Dean’s heart ache. “I do not understand,” Jack says, holding the sign out to Sam with one hand as he pats his chest with the other, “My heart is in my body. Is this home?”

Sam chuckles. “It’s not literally. It means home is wherever the people you love are.”

Jack seems to consider this statement, turning the plastic sign over in his hands with interest before looking back to Sam. “So…your home…would be the black car?”

Impala, Dean thinks irritably to himself. Sam just smiles. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And Dean. Is his home–”

Yes, Dean supplies silently, Of course it’s the damn car.

“–at the lake?” Jack finishes. Sam looks mildly confused. Dean scowls. What the hell does this kid think he loves? Fishing? Kayaking? He takes a step forwards, ready to set Jack straight, when Sam interjects.

“The lake?” At least his brother sounds just as confused as Dean is, thank Chuck.

Jack nods. “Yes. The lake. Where we burned my father, Castiel.”

Dean freezes. His heart aches, it’s strangely hard to breathe and it’s taking all he’s got to keep his grip on the 6-pack. It’s then that Sam notices him, eyes widening almost comically as he flounders for something to say. Jack turns to stare at Dean expectantly.

“I don’t have a home,” Dean growls, whirling around abruptly to pay for the beer before either of them could see him breaking at the seams. He clenches his jaw, schooling his breath, whispering to himself as he makes his way to the check-out.

“Not anymore.”

Conceptual Devil

Author’s Note: someone stop kim taehyung 2k17
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (oc; female)
Genre: Classical Violinist!Tae; smut; au
Summary: As Taehyung’s Muse, he often calls you when he needs you the most.
Rating: NC-17 
Warnings: explicit sex; dirty talk; spanking; light edging
Word Count: 3,643

Originally posted by chimtae

When you arrive, the first, and only, sound you hear is the sound of him playing. Rigorous, frustrated, passionate, he presses against the strings with fervor, his strong arm turning the violin into thunder. His rhythm is pointed, sure, the speed of his bow against the strings wild in its fury and arresting in its perfection. Already, he is possessing you, controlling the flow of your blood with the movements of his fingers - and you are not even near enough to see him.

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