this is what happens when it's late and i'm not sleepy :)

sofeyhh  asked:

Hey! can you share a list of fics where Yoonmin have to handle kids? It could be parent au, single parent au or babysitter au? I'm in the mood for some soft yoonmin fics :D

Have I got the list for you.

Single Parent 

Bring On The Sunshine by smoljean

With the help of their five year old “matchmaker” Taehyung, Yoongi and Jimin stumble into each other’s lives. Cue the awkward, messy pining and dating adventures with a noisy kid in their way.


A Crew of Two (or Three) by Kingkiwi

It’s a 2 a.m. winter hellscape and Jimin’s at the grocery store with a small, sleeping baby. There’s a suspicious man in a hoodie and he’s taken the last cart. What’s a cold, tired dad to do?


this could be the start of something new by shugamins

in which yoongi is a single parent. but that single status might change soon and that’s all thanks to his son, jihoon.

or

“my kid has a crush on you and demands that i walk over here so they can talk to you yeah um hi this is awkward” but not really bcos it’s the other way around???


A Walk to Remember by glochisiester

Yoongi tried to find comfort over his wife’s death. Jimin tried his best to be the good brother he was.

Jimin resembles Yoongi’s dead wife and Yoongi sometimes can’t control his affection.


Does That Make Our Parents Best Friends? by Jajungmyeon

Mother and son from Busan meet father and son from Daegu.


Enjoy It by silentterror  

Min Yoongi is a single father who works full-time and goes to college full-time. Park Jimin is a full-time college student who leads a relatively simple life. Their paths cross and seem to never untangle from that moment on. Things aren’t usually nice for Yoongi so he decides he is just going to enjoy it.


noise complaints by minyoongd

it’s ass o'clock in the morning and min yoongi will fight whoever is keeping him up so late–that is until he meets the source behind all the noise.

or

park jimin has trouble controlling his son, but somehow that becomes more of a blessing than a problem.


playground by awsuga

Jimin’s daughter’s favorite place is the playground opposite Yoongi’s apartment.


Parent YoonMin

dear santa by yururin

“Please? Just once? And it’ll be really quick, hyungie, I promise,” Jimin tries again, plump lips curled up into a cute pout—the pout which they both know Yoongi can never say no to.

And, well—

“Ah, fuck. Fine, fine, baby, I’ll do it.”

(or: Yoongi dresses up as Santa under Jimin’s request. Jungkook takes it the hard way.)


Play Date by myjaebutt

Yoongi is an angsty marshmallow who’s seriously questioning a three year old’s feelings.
Jimin is never there when you need him.
Taehyung hates little mean boys with red shovels.
And Jungkook just wants to be carried everywhere.


Our Little Sunshine by myjaebutt

An hour later and Taehyung’s not entirely sure what he’s watched but it’s okay since he’s gone through every possible scenario of what could happen today. Luckily only two ended with him dying (he tries his best to ignore that almost all the rest resulted in him crying to some degree).

(Or Taehyung grows older, gets himself a boyfriend and Yoongi loses his mind.)


dads of the year by realitygetsdestroyed

“what, is jean on jean not cool anymore?”

in which jimin and yoongi are parents to three year old jungkook


baby on the way by goddamndoor

Jimin’s hands shook as he looked down at the pregnancy test he was holding, the little digital screen displaying its answer. On the bathroom counter next to him there were two more tests, both showing the same thing.

Pregnant
3+ weeks

-

or; yoongi and jimin are expecting a little min


of dump and dumb by shugamins

just a normal morning in the Min’s household (a.k.a that one time where yoongi just wanted to take a dump in peace)


Babysitter AU

Babysitter by Rineey

Yoongi is a father at a too young of an age after the mother of his child left him with a baby at only 18 years old.
He’s 23 now and his job is looking up, he can afford maids and babysitters, things he never got as a kid, for his own kid.

this is a warning, VHOPE appears at around the 11th chapter, so if you’re really die hard for vhope, that’s a heads up. (This is also a single parent story)


We Belong Together by writenow753

Yoongi’s work gets interrupted and Jimin’s babysitting.


Better than a Sunday morning by yoongi_trash

Jimin’s usual Sunday mornings consist of lie ins and sleepy kisses shared with Yoongi. But this Sunday is a little different…

AKA the babysitting AU where a 4 year old crushes on Jimin, and Yoongi gets jealous


I hope you Enjoy all the fics.

nebulasarah  asked:

okay this probably really weird but ive never seen hannibal or even know what its about for aome reason i think its about cannibalism??? idk ive only seen pics of some dude covered in blood???? anywho is it canon tht the dude with curls and hannibal r in love? like ive seen weird neck grips super gay lines and apparently they fell off a cliff while embracing each other?? is this Canon or just a classic case of queerbaiting?

Hannigram is 100% real and canon

(actual line from the show) 

And later Gillian Anderson says to Will Graham “could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes, but do you ache for him” (what’s the point of asking that question if the answer is not gonna be yes in the end?)

It just happens that today we are in a 3 day con with the showrunner and the actor above (Hugh Dancy) and they keep reaffirming Hannibal and Will are in love, and yes they survived. 

The realtionship in the show is not something “only the audience will pick it up” even characters from the show acknowledge the relationship, they see they have a complicated and full of profound love relationship, even if they don’t approve of it.

Even a reporter straight out calls Hannibal and Will “murder husbands”.

Hugh Dancy just revealed us in this con that Will never thought Hannibal could love him back, because he thought him incapable of love but still Hannibal spends all S3 saying Will Graham makes him feel love.

(after seeing Will for a long time)

Hannibal is even jealous of the people in Will’s lives, and when Will maries a woman he even gets 10x more bitchy and even reminds Will they had a daughter together (and later calls him family)

The cast is also amazing and celebrates the ship and supports it. The showrunner Bryan Fuller has bought an anthology of Hannigram works, is right now at the con saying how are Will and Hannibal in bed (they switch), he lived tweeted with the fandom and everytime there is a hannigram moment he said it.

Some antis say Bryan Fuller queerbaits but he explained many times he didn’t make them kiss at the end because it didn’t felt right for the characterization of that moment, you can’t throw a tropey movie kiss after Will Graham spent 3 seasons being in denial, the mood had to be right. Season is supposed to explore that new relationship they are going to have, where they are finally honest with each other about their feelings. But seriously Will’s action in the last season say it all…it doesn’t need a kiss.

Hugh Dancy and Mads Mikkelsen gave us a many headcanons for the upcoming season, so they are not “no homo” ing all like other actors :))) they even say they are in love (how canon is that?!)

This show is no Sherock or Supernatural and Bryasn Fuller is the anti-thesis to Moffat, so please check it out, if you only want a kiss to be proven canon then wait for S4 but everything they do during the 3 seasons show Will and Hannibal’s feelings for each other

anonymous asked:

Would you do another thing with Daja? Or maybe Lark or Rosethorn. Because I'm currently questioning and I envy the easy acceptance of their gayness/bisexuality. There's no way in hell my family would be okay with me not being straight so yeah, I'd kinda like to live vicariously through them for a bit sorry for asking.

don’t ever be sorry for asking kindly for things, nonny. this one’s all yours.

when they come home from namorn, a lot of things happen—

little bear comes running and cleans all their faces while briar complains about his manly pride and nice clothes (he gives the old pup a belly rub later, when no one but daja can see him go soft and tired, because he knows she will not taunt or comfort, just stand). 

glaki comes pounding out of discipline cottage, wraps around tris like the vegetable garden is twining around briar, the way evvy is pretending she doesn’t want to, and tris pets glaki’s hair and tries not to remember how much she has grown without her.

sandry will step back into her uncle’s court the next day, and she will be sure, suddenly more sure than she’d been the whole ride back, that she had made the right decision. the citadel will smell like sealing wax and old stone and dried ink. when she steps into her uncle’s study, there will be a mantle of responsibility returned to her shoulders that is just the right weight, that is just what she wants. her uncle will look up from his letters and the light of pride in his eyes will be better than all the riches and legacy of the inheritance that she signed away to a good man. 

for now, though: “i thought the snow might give your roots frostbite,” evvy sniffs at briar. 

“doubting my training,” rosethorn warns. “i taught my boy better than that." 

it’s when rosethorn hugs briar that evvy breaks down and squeezes him tight around the ribs. briar presses one cheek into evvy’s kerchief, tangles a hand in rosethorn’s habit and doesn’t let go until he knows he can grin like he can’t smell woodsmoke on even this peaceful air. 

while glaki chases chime around the yard, tris watching like the fond sister she pretends she’s not, while briar teases evvy and sandry buries her face in the sensible cotton smell of lark, daja slips out the garden gate. 

daja climbs over the flat walks of winding circle until she finds frostpine’s forge, its little bedroom tucked above it, the sharp scents of the metals and the rounded undertone of coal and wood. she wishes everything else were so easy to distinguish by smell as copper and tin, gold and iron. 

his hug is bone-crushing, acrid, and his eyes are clever and dark when he pulls back and looks at her. frostpine gives her a spare apron of his that she’s almost big enough to wear now and a hammer that’s swimming with his magics and they strike metal, shape and sweat in silence until the day is over. daja makes hinges and crafts sigils for some heavy lock boxes that she’s sure even briar would have trouble breaking into. she makes a bucketful of nails, for old times’ sake. 

they forsake the warmth of the baths, after, and go plunge into the sea instead, like they’re hot steel they want to quench. daja’s not sure she’s the right temperature for this, the right hue of glowing red. what if it makes her brittle, not strong? what if her ore was poor quality in the first place? a trader turned lugsha, who weaseled her way back in; a woman who loves beautiful women and then leaves them. 

frostpine gets the story out of her, because he is safe the way she has known few men to ever be, because there are few people more patient in silence than she is but he is one. daja has never had a broken heart before, and she has never been one for many words, but she tries to explain. 

sandry will try to help—she will take daja out riding, keep her moving, because that is how sandry outruns her griefs, always has. she pours her heart into other things, other work. 

tris will give her books to read, because they give you a way out to better things, because they give you something to put between your face and a world that’s not interested in looking at you right. 

briar will take her out to meet pretty young women, like delicate flowers, and daja will feel sooty no matter how well she scrubs her smiths’ hands clean. 

but frostpine listens quietly. he asks her if she can smell the little bits of metal in the waves, the buried treasure far offshore. “your nose has gotten better,” he says. “i’m sorry about rizu.” they dry off, then soak in the communal baths after all, and then he walks her back to discipline. he kisses her on the forehead, warm hands on her cheeks, bristling beard ticking her nose, and says, “you might want to talk to your foster mothers.” 

"you know, rosie broke my heart once,” lark says companionably, when daja does ask, shyly, over tea and honey and milk. rosethorn blushes furiously and daja stares. lark starts to tell a story and rosethorn stomps off to find a stronger tea. 

they tell daja stories of lark the young acrobat, who fell in love with every pretty girl who came to her shows and didn’t kiss one. it’s late and they are all sleepy, guards down, when rosethorn talks about the first boy she loved, haystacks and very young promises, angry fathers. lark was the fourth woman rosethorn decided to love, and the other three names roll off rosethorn’s tongue, easy. daja listens hard for something like sorrow, like regret, and doesn’t hear it. 

“we are a lot more than the places we have decided to lay down bits of our heart,” says lark, “or the people we have offered to give our hearts to. but that’s one part of you all the same: who and what and how you love. i know it hurts right now, chickadee, but you loved her and she loved you. that matters, no matter if it lasts. living, you get bruises. you get strong muscles and bones that don’t heal right. you get so many homes and broken hearts. you live in all those places and you don’t always get to choose which ones to keep.”

“you’re a hardy one,” says rosethorn. “you’ll outlive it.”

“what rosie means is: we love you, and we’re here if you need it.”

after, daja climbs up to the thatched roof where they watched clouds get born as children. the sun is rising. she has her heavy brass-tipped staff and her own smallest chisel. she wants to carve something into the metal here, into the life’s story written out in the circling design. it might be rizu’s name. it might be her own. 

whatfallsaway  asked:

So I'm awake in the middle of the night. Currently 3am. Been awake since 1:30am. Too many thoughts. Got any late night Mulder/Scully heavy MSR phone call drabbles kicking around? Cause that would be great! 😍

So sorry you can’t sleep! I wrote this real quick so… here we go.

When the phone rings shortly after 3 am, Scully isn’t surprised and she doesn’t startle awake. Her hand reaches out and grabs the phone resting beside her like a spent, sleepy lover. She lets it ring another time not wanting to seem too desperate, too prepared.

“Scully, it’s me. I hope I didn’t wake you.” Mulder’s voice is apologetic and she wonders how long he’s fought against calling her. They haven’t seen or heard each other all weekend. In between cleaning her apartment, meeting her mother for lunch, and grocery shopping she’s stared at her unblinking phone, waiting in vain. When they didn’t have an official case, Mulder always found a reason to call her and to lure her away from home. Not this time. She considered calling him herself just to ask if he was all right. Her greatest fear, though never admitting that to Mulder, was that he would ditch her (again) and try to go out there alone. Now here he was on the phone. They would see each other in a couple of hours but something inside him must have given way, finally.

“Hm, it’s fine Mulder. What is it? Did you have a good weekend?”

“It was… yeah, I got a lot of things done around the apartment. No, to be honest I was bored. How about you?” She could lie, she knows, and tell him she had a wonderful weekend. Meeting her mother was nice, of course, but the rest of it? She’s missed him. She’s missed him more than she could put into words. It’s the middle of the night and he’s honest with her, so she wants to be truthful, too. It’s comfortable here in her bed and she feels protected by the softness surrounding her, by the nighttime, by the darkness.  

“It was nice enough,” she tells him, “but I was waiting for you to call me.”

“Missed me, huh?” He chuckles.

“Yes,” she whispers, “I did.” Mulder is quiet on the other side of the line and Scully wishes she could see him. She wants to know if he’s in his bed, too, or on his couch. What is he wearing, what is he doing? Warmth spreads through her, coloring her cheeks. This line of thinking is Mulder’s specialty, not hers.

“I missed you, too,” he finally speaks, “I tried not to call you knowing you have a, you know, life.” She stops herself from huffing; the only life she has, has had for years, is intertwined with his. Without him she doesn’t have a life.

“So do you, Mulder.”

“Do I?” She used to wish they had these conversations in the light of day when they were both fully awake. Now she realizes they never could. They need the vulnerability of nighttime, the possibility of dismissing their confessions as dreams; never happened, Scully, you must have dreamed this.  

“Mulder, you could have called me, you know.”

“I said I wouldn’t.”

“Since when do you do what you’re supposed to do?”

“I thought you wanted to spend a weekend away from life-threatening monsters for a change.”

“We can spend the weekend together without chasing monsters, ghosts or aliens.” Her breath hitches in light of her words. But it’s the truth.

“Can we?” His voice sounds vulnerable, scared almost. But there is hope in there, too; like a bright star shining in the darkest night sky.

“Yes, Mulder,” she answers softly, “I wish you’d called sooner. I have to be up in three hours to get ready for work.”

“I could come over. We could save gas driving into work together. Save some water, too, if we share a shower.” Scully hears his grin and she can’t help it, she smiles, too. Now she’s glad he’s not here and can’t see her. She isn’t sure they’re quite there yet.

“You could come over for breakfast.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But bring pastries.”

“I can do that. Anything in particular you want?” Just you, she thinks, swallowing the thought.

“No,” she says quickly, “surprise me, Mulder.”

“Gladly, Scully. See you soon.”

Home Alone || Patrick Hockstetter

Requestcan you write where Patrick talks to reader on how he’ll kill her if she ever cheats or breaks up with him

Warnings: Dubious consent, death threats, choking/suffocation, degradation, abuse, and Patrick being himself!

Note: Personally, this is the darkest piece I’ve written ever. It deals with very scary situations, which made me even uncomfortable as I wrote it, and I’m quite hesitant on posting this. However, I felt how Patrick handles the situation in this imagine is in character. Please consider the warnings before reading! 


How Patrick acted bothered [Name] so much. At first, she was able to ignore the many flaws that Patrick Hockstetter had over physical attraction. And trust me, Patrick had too many flaws. But not even the wild sex could fix how the girl began to feel towards her boyfriend. The more she stayed, the more she learned what she didn’t like about her boyfriend who frightened her.

She detested the fact that Patrick took sadistic pleasure in bullying younger kids, especially the Losers Club. When she saw him give a shift and hard punch to Richie Tozier, [Name] felt nothing but terror and disgust. [Name] can agree with anyone that Richie Tozier doesn’t have a filter for his mouth but he was still a good kid! Him and his friends did not deserve the treatment they received.

Not to mention, the stupid pencil filled with dead flies with repulsive. If Patrick had been hot, [Name] would had screeched in disgust and look the other way.

Keep reading

ladyoftheshrimp  asked:

Dude! It's stupid o'clock in the morning and I'm on duty tired as anything and our phone lines are messing up. Hilarious considering this is a phone service. I would spam you with things but the app is broken so I can't. Have the image of Graves working too much and collapsing in bed like a burrito which is how Newt finds him. He wakes him up briefly to make him at least have a hot chocolate for dinner then they snuggle up and snore in concert.

Friend o’mine, I got chu. I’m going to go ahead and give Graves a quirk of mine, since I think it fits what you got above. ♡

Please forgive the historical inaccuracy (the machinery existed, but wasn’t prevalent - but whatever, it’s fanfiction anyway. XD)

Walking past his little makeshift cot in favor of climbing the ladder and going to his partner’s bed gives Newt a little thrill of joy that has not yet ceased to make itself known each and every night. They’ve been together for a few months now - and while they’re not always in the bed at the same time, Newt loves that he has someone to share it with. Thick mattress and soft blankets and plush pillows. He’s nearly salivating just thinking about it.

But as he exits his case and reaches the stairs of Graves’ home, he finds himself pausing at a peculiar development. There’s a trail of clothing leading up the stairs. It starts first with Graves scarf - limp and spiraling down the bottom first steps. Newt grabs it with gentle hands and preciously folds it before setting it to hang on the banister. Next, just a few steps up, is first one shoe - then the other. He magics them to their normal place at the door, baffled. 

Graves is a meticulous man. He has a routine that he abides by without mercy. Every evening when he comes home, he first hangs his scarf and coat on the rack, then sits on the seat in their foyer to remove his shoes and neatly set them beneath his coat. He then goes to the bedroom to finish removing any unnecessary clothing for a man at home; his vest, his socks and garters, his belt. He unbuttons his cuffs and the top few buttons of his shirt, and removes his tie - revealing creamy skin and a little wisp of hair - and carefully sets his stickpins and cuff links in their little tray. 

And then he goes to the sitting room to laze in his chair. He sips on brandy by the fire and continues to go over casework, and doesn’t make a peep of protest when Newt eventually joins him - smelling of creatures and sweat and manual labor - and slinks into his lap like a great cat. Graves just adjusts his work so that he might support Newt in his arms and still read his files. It takes soft kisses up his jaw line to coax the work away. To bring the man back home. Gentle lips against a day’s worth of scruff until finally those brown eyes, tired from so much reading, are focused solely on Newt.

But not today.

Today, Newt finds Graves’ elaborate coat sprawled on the floor at the top of the steps; forgotten. He finds next the man’s belt trailing like a great snake in the middle of the hall, his cuff links and stickpins glimmering innocently on the decorative table of their hallway - one quite close to falling off the edge. Next, his socks and garters. His vest, his shirt, his tie. 

All leading to their little nook of a laundry room. He finds the dryer door open, heat still emanating from it’s depths, and frowns.

Sure enough, he finds a familiar lump of blankets atop their bed. If not for the pale bottom of one foot sticking out (and the knowledge that Graves was rather attentive about making the bed each and every morning), Newt might’ve mistaken the lump for a heap of undone bedding and nothing more. 

Newt chuckles, a soft fondness burning away some of the exhaustion and concern from his face.

“Hard day?” He asks as he comes to sit beside where he thinks the man’s head might be tucked away. 

All that comes back is a rather un-Percival like grumble.

Newt smiles. Even from where he sits he can feel the heat of the blankets that wrap Graves up from head to toe. Steamy and delicious against the crisp fall bite slowly bleeding into the air of New York City. 

To have chosen to use their little dryer instead of magic… Newt knew the man must be exhausted. It only makes him feel all the more guilty when he gently leans over the bundle of fabrics and pries the tucked corner aside - revealing a rather grumpy looking and sleepy face.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, trying not to smile - still all too able to recall what happened the last time he dare called Percival Graves cute.

Another grumble as Graves tries to burrow his face back into the depths of his molten cocoon; grumpy, because he knows what’s surely coming.

“Percy, you must eat,” he urges gently, fingers at the man’s baby soft hair - free of pomade, he notes. He’d leave the poor man to his own machinations if he hadn’t been working himself so hard lately. If Newt hadn’t noticed the dark circles growing beneath his eyes or the way his belt had to be notched a hole tighter lately. If he hadn’t noticed the way Graves felt cold a lot, recently, or how he tired quicker. Fall was coming. The season would not wait for Graves to catch up. 

“But it’s warm now,” Graves mumbles, and if anyone were to ask he would deny it was a whine until his dying day. Gone is the normally terse director, replaced by soft human flesh and sleepy lashes and a dazed mind. It is odd, to see the man like this. It makes Newt’s chest tight.

“I’ll heat it for you again, love,” Newt promises with a fond smile. “Up you get. Dinner, and then we’ll both wrap up in some freshly heated sheets. How’s that sound?” 

Newt can’t help but laugh when Graves tries his last card and turns to better face him, a sultry (if a touch sleepy) look on his face when he purrs, “Or you could join me now.”

Newt leans in to kiss first his forehead, then both of his sleepy eyes before purring back into his mouth, “Dinner, then sleep or I’ll take the blankets for myself and leave you here to shiver.”

And when all Graves does is pout at him (another thing he would deny), too sleepy to argue, Newt chuckles and kisses him chastely. He loves this man too much to let him starve, let alone sleep with no bedfellow. 

Ah, love… 

But that’s a discussion for another time, he decides, as he takes his sleepy lover by the hand and leads the blanket swaddled director to the kitchen.

Dinner, then bed; limbs entangled, noses touching. Snoring in quiet symphony.

anonymous asked:

OH, IF YOU DON'T MIND, could you possibly do a part 2 of the Host & his girlfriend with a baby, except it's about a year after, and they've got a baby of their own...? I'm just so weak for the Host. And for fluff. And for babies. (I've got a nephew, too. He's a little over 3 months now and I love him to pieces, so I feel you) ❤❤

(I have to force myself to cut these off because I love writing them so much and I’d legit just write for hours if I didn’t)

-for months after the fiasco with the lost baby, you and The Host were in a bit of a honeymoon phase
-he’d expressed how much he wanted to try to have a baby with you after the incident
-the two of you tried for a few months, and it seemed like it wouldn’t ever happen
-he always blamed himself, saying that it was his fault that he couldn’t get you pregnant, that it was his fault because of his gift or his accident
-he worried himself to the point that he called the only doctor he trusted to make a house visit to do a check up on him
-the doctor told him that he had nothing to worry about and that he was absolutely healthy and also that he needed to stop stressing about it because that didn’t help either
-so, with a lifted conscience, he relayed the information to you and you both agreed to just let things happen as they were meant to
-about a month later, you woke up to the most strange, uncomfortable feeling
-you soon realized that you were going to throw up and you leaped out of bed to run to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and retching up the contents of your stomach
-you felt his hands on your back a moment later
-“baby are you alright?” his sleepy voice was concerned
-you couldn’t answer at the moment, but he sat next to you and held your hair away from your face and stroked your back comfortingly
-“haven’t puked since I was a kid” you muttered, feeling lightheaded and woozy
-he reached around you and flushed the toilet and then pulled you into his chest
-“do you think…?” He asked slowly
-you could feel his heart racing
-“let me…mmmh…let me brush my teeth and settle stomach and I’ll run out to get some pregnancy tests”
-he was so sweet and attentive to you, leading you back to the bed after you rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth
-he made you some plain toast and brought you some water
-a few hours later you left and he gave you a soft lingering kiss
-you came back with a few different tests and he waited with you silently while you took them
-you watched as his lips moved silently and he was barely whispering, you couldn’t make it out, although it was very comforting
-ten minutes later you took a deep shuddering breath, and looked at them
-and then you let out a shocked laugh
-“baby, it’s…they’re…” happy tears streamed down your face as you threw your arms around his neck “they’re positive” you whispered
-he shouted out a laugh and picked you up
-you wrapped your legs around his waist and he kissed you passionately before taking you back into the bedroom
-he laid you onto the bed and pulled your shirt over your belly, fingers tracing your skin
-“we’re going to be parents…I’m-im gonna be a dad”
-he was so sweet throughout your pregnancy
-he had ordered several books in Braille about parenting and you sometimes woke up in the middle of the night to find him with one hand absently rubbing your back as the other one trailed over the pages
-he talked to your stomach once you started showing
-you had a doctors appointment every month, and you were prepared to go by yourself because you didn’t expect him to leave the cabin, but when he donned a pair of blinding glasses on the day of your first appointment, you could have sobbed with emotions running wild
-he went to every single one with you, gripping your hand tightly
-he was terrified to be out of his environment but knowing that he was with you calmed him
-you didn’t find out the gender because neither of you had a preference
-when you actually had the baby, you opted for a home birth, and his doctor came to help you deliver
-it was a long, agonizing process and took what seemed like an eternity
-when you heard the tiny wails of a baby, it was all worth it.
-you had a beautiful baby girl and you were so in love with her as soon as she was put into your arms
-he was so happy, and did everything he could to help you
-your heart swelled every time he said how much he loved “his girls”
-he took such good care of her
-he was basically the perfect father, absolutely doting on her and spending as much time as possible with her
-his fingers always traced over her face, as if he wanted to memorize it
-he would touch his own face after that and then yours
-“she’s got your nose, but my lips.” He said in awe
-he set aside money for her out of every payment he got from hosting late night shows on the radio
-he wanted her to have everything in the world
-he was so sweet, telling her new stories every night before you put her to sleep
-he got very good at changing her clothes and changing her diapers because he refused to not know how to do it just because he couldn’t see
-he loved being able to mash up foods for her when she was finally able to eat solids
-bath time was his favorite bonding time with her
-and when she turned a year old, you found him sitting on your bed, tears streaming down his face
-“I love her so much, I can’t imagine our lives without her now” he had told you
-“I know…i um. I’d like to maybe talk about…having another? She’d love having a brother or sister..”

Summer Night (Modern AU)

Originally posted by soracormac

Pairing: Shay Cormac x reader

Word Count: 2,123

Note: This was a random little something I wrote in two hours for @shay-makes-my-luck / @waterbird-loves-pasteis


Shay… can you not?” You mumbled as an elbow nudged your lower back.

This was the fifth time one of his limbs had come into contact with your body in less than an hour. Honestly, you were about ready to pull out the duct tape and strap him down to the goddamned bed if he didn’t stop with his tossing and turning.

“I’m hot…” He sleepily replied, his words barely intelligible. The man was obviously half-asleep still.

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Burning Love

This AU story is based on the Romeo and Juliet play of the game Daughter of the Dusk, with Roy and Riza as the protagonists. This is a very extended version of it and I took my liberties, but I’m sure you’ll still recognize the dialogues that have been translated and been around Tumblr for a while. I hope you enjoy this! :)


The annual military ball was held on a beautiful summer night. Central City was famous for its rich people’s taste in fine wine, orchestral music, excessive meals, eccentric clothing and masquerades. Big celebrations that only reunited the best of the best. And this night’s celebration was no exception.

Roy Mustang was a young soldier; handsome, kind, well educated. He was never one to question orders or break the rules.

Roy had little interest in the party he and his family had attended. Everybody danced happily, but he roamed the room in search of something that would catch his eye. He stopped by the fish tanks, they were big and full of colorful, beautiful creatures. He wished he’d be swimming right now, just like the fishes. While dancing was nice, he only enjoyed it the rare times his partner happened to be someone of his liking.

As they moved, many fishes met for a moment in the middle of the tank, and Roy saw his reflection on the glass. He was wearing an orange mask with yellow feathers. He smiled to himself, and when the fishes went their separate ways, the face he saw on the glass was a different one. Big brown eyes blinked at him, and Roy sat up straight, aware that there was someone on the other side.

He walked around the tank and saw her. The most beautiful lady he had laid eyes upon. Long, blonde hair, such a fair face, eyes he could die for. He saw her soul in them, and he felt immediately attracted. She enchanted him at first sight.

The woman smiled shyly at him, but didn’t make a move as she stared right back.

“My name is Roy, I’m an Amestrian soldier,” he said to her. He extended his hand at her. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

The woman took his hand and nodded. “Of course.”

They danced together for what felt like hours. Roy held the lady by the waist and guided her across the room. Her gentle touch on his shoulder felt shockingly warm, the kind of warmth Roy knew he couldn’t let go. They looked into each other’s eyes, which shone bright like the stars, and without a word they fell into the deepest of seas and drowned in the sweetest of waters.

The band playing the music took a rest, and Roy and the lady stopped dancing for a moment. She got closer to him, internally debating with herself whether she should kiss him, for he had become a gentleman she wanted to be held by, for at least the rest of the night.

She extended her hand to his face and pulled off his mask, revealing Roy’s handsome face. She blinked and tilted her head, observing him for a moment.

“I think… I’ve seen you before.”

Roy raised his eyebrows. “Oh! Well… maybe you’ve seen me in past military events? The Mustang family has been in the military for generations.”

Riza gasped. “You’re a Mustang.”

He smiled lovingly. “Indeed.”

They heard another song being played, and Roy moved to hold the lady tight again, but she broke the embrace and stepped back.

“I’m very sorry, Roy Mustang” she said. “I must leave now.”

Roy frowned sadly, suddenly confused and disappointed, and walked up to her.

“Wait, Miss! May I have your name?”

She sighed and turned around. “I’m… Riza.”

He put a hand on his chest. “Ah… such beautiful name for such beautiful woman.”

Riza smiled shyly at him, like the first time her eyes made contact with his.

Roy took a step forward. “I must say, Riza… my heart is burning with love for you.”

Riza blushed heavily. “Did… did I cause such thing?”

Roy touched her arm and looked at her tenderly. “You—”

“No, I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I must go.”

Riza ran toward the exit, her full-length gown’s tale floating in the air behind her as she made her way. Appalled, Roy tried to follow her, but some dancing couples got in the way, and he soon lost sight of Riza. By the time he reached the entrance, she was gone.

Riza hid in the shadows, around the corner of the building. She could see Roy from there, looking desperately for her. Her heart pounded strongly, and she touched her chest with worry.

“What is happening to me? This feeling in my chest…” she took a peak at Roy again, “…what is it?”

She couldn’t go back to him, no matter how much she wanted to. He was a Mustang, after all. And her family, the Hawkeyes, had always been an enemy of his. They could never be together.


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just the two of us (hogwarts au) part nine - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - i can’t apologise enough for how long this has taken me to write. i know you’re all expecting party, and i promise i will start on that as soon as i can. it’s much easier to write with somebody else, which is why mean queens chapters tend to get written in one day and submitted, however writing alone is hard and takes me much longer, so i’m sorry if you’re not enjoying mean queens and prefer my other fics. i really am sorry, recently it’s been tough to write through school work and my debilitating mental health, but we won’t get into that because it’s sad. all you need to know is that i feel awful and I'm very sorry i haven’t delivered this quickly. i hope you like it anyways <3

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A letter from Roald Dahl on the subject of vaccinations, in 1986

“Olivia, my eldest daughter, caught measles when she was seven years old. As the illness took its usual course I can remember reading to her often in bed and not feeling particularly alarmed about it. Then one morning, when she was well on the road to recovery, I was sitting on her bed showing her how to fashion little animals out of coloured pipe-cleaners, and when it came to her turn to make one herself, I noticed that her fingers and her mind were not working together and she couldn’t do anything.

“Are you feeling all right?” I asked her.

“I feel all sleepy, ” she said.

In an hour, she was unconscious. In twelve hours she was dead.

The measles had turned into a terrible thing called measles encephalitis and there was nothing the doctors could do to save her. That was twenty-four years ago in 1962, but even now, if a child with measles happens to develop the same deadly reaction from measles as Olivia did, there would still be nothing the doctors could do to help her. On the other hand, there is today something that parents can do to make sure that this sort of tragedy does not happen to a child of theirs. They can insist that their child is immunised against measles. I was unable to do that for Olivia in 1962 because in those days a reliable measles vaccine had not been discovered.

Today a good and safe vaccine is available to every family and all you have to do is to ask your doctor to administer it. It is not yet generally accepted that measles can be a dangerous illness. Believe me, it is. In my opinion parents who now refuse to have their children immunised are putting the lives of those children at risk.

In America, where measles immunisation is compulsory, measles like smallpox, has been virtually wiped out. Here in Britain, because so many parents refuse, either out of obstinacy or ignorance or fear, to allow their children to be immunised, we still have a hundred thousand cases of measles every year.

Out of those, more than 10,000 will suffer side effects of one kind or another.

At least 10,000 will develop ear or chest infections.

About 20 will die.

LET THAT SINK IN.

Every year around 20 children will die in Britain from measles.

So what about the risks that your children will run from being immunised?

They are almost non-existent. Listen to this. In a district of around 300,000 people, there will be only one child every 250 years who will develop serious side effects from measles immunisation! That is about a million to one chance. I should think there would be more chance of your child choking to death on a chocolate bar than of becoming seriously ill from a measles immunisation.

So what on earth are you worrying about?

It really is almost a crime to allow your child to go unimmunised. The ideal time to have it done is at 13 months, but it is never too late. All school-children who have not yet had a measles immunisation should beg their parents to arrange for them to have one as soon as possible.

Incidentally, I dedicated two of my books to Olivia, the first was ‘James and the Giant Peach’. That was when she was still alive. The second was ‘The BFG’, dedicated to her memory after she had died from measles. You will see her name at the beginning of each of these books. And I know how happy she would be if only she could know that her death had helped to save a good deal of illness and death among other children.”

Graduation Imagine
  • It's been a long senior year and you've finally made it to graduation. You're laying in bed, excited to finally start your life. But then you realize; (TC's name) will no longer be your teacher. You get this intense feeling of dread in your stomach.
  • You: (thinking) fuck. I can't believe it's over. How am I going to get through this? It's the last time I'll see him. School isn't the only thing that's going to be over with... Tomorrow is the last day I'll ever get to see his smile, his eyes, his everything. I'll never hear his voice again.
  • You start to panic and you end up falling asleep because all the stress made you sleepy.
  • You wake up the next morning and you instantly remember TODAY is the last day. You get sick to your stomach but you pulled yourself together.
  • You: (thinking) Well today's the day... I should have prepared myself for this. I knew it was going to happen but time flew by so quick. This can't be happening.
  • You get ready for graduation and you look beautiful as fuck. You and your family drive to the school and on the way there all you can feel is your stomach turning. Wishing time would stop or you could relive the last couple of months. When you and your family arrive at the school, you don't want to get out of the car. You just use the excuse that you don't feel good to stay in the car just a little longer. But then it was time to go in. Time to face your reality.
  • You walk into the school and out of all people who could have been standing 10ft in front of you helping your soon to be former classmates, it's (TC's name). You immediately stop and look at him and his eyes lock with yours. He smiles at you but you can't even smile back because you know what is about to happen.
  • You: (to your parent/sibling) oh my god I'll be right back.
  • You run into the bathroom and lock yourself in.
  • You: (thinking) This can't be happening. How dare he smile at me when he knows it's the last day I will ever see him. Gosh, I fucking hate this. How can he be so calm about this? Why isn't he showing any emotions? Maybe all this time I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me at all. Maybe I don't matter to him.
  • You start having a panic attack but you hear a knock on the bathroom door. You pull yourself together and wipe the tears off your face. You open the door and pretend like your fine. It's your best friend.
  • BFF: What the hell? What's wrong? Why have you been crying? Are you okay? Who do I need to kill?
  • You: (slight laugh) Nobody. I'm just emotional that this is the last day of high school. I'm really going to miss this place. It's actually over.
  • BFF: Who cries this much over school? I've known you for years, all you wanted was for school to end. Are you sure there's nothing else going on?
  • You: (thinking) Yeah, I wanted school to be over with. But that was before I fell in love with (TC's name).
  • You: ... Nothing is going on ...
  • BFF: I can tell when you're lying to me so tell me the truth, please. I want to help you.
  • You: You'll think I'm a freak or think it's gross.
  • BFF: C'mon if I thought you were a freak I wouldn't have been your friend for this many years. It can't be that bad. You can trust me.
  • You: Fine... I'm in love with (TC's name) and today is the last day we will ever see each other.
  • BFF: WAIT YOU LIKE (TC'S NAME)??? HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?
  • You: (however many years or months)... I don't just like him. I love him.
  • BFF: Does he know?
  • You: Of course not. He'd never feel the same way about me so why would I risk everything we have and make everything complicated?
  • BFF: Tell him. What's the worst that can happen now? The worst thing that could possibly happen is that he'll reject you but that's his loss. You're an amazing beautiful woman. If he can't see that then you need to find someone who will see that.
  • You: I can't just tell him... He'll think I'm weird.
  • BFF: Here, lets go. We are going to be late if we don't hurry up. We will think of something.
  • You and your BFF go get your graduation gowns from (TC's name). You and (TC's name) make awkward eye contact and you both smile at each other. You and your BFF start walking to where all the other students are.
  • BFF: He totally likes you. I can tell.
  • You: Please don't get my hopes up like that. I don't want to be let down even more.
  • BFF: I'm sorry...
  • -To save time I'm skipping to the part where you walk across the stage to get your diploma.-
  • You walk up on stage and you're more nervous than you've ever been. You walk up to (TC's name) and he gives you the brightest smile ever.
  • TC: (Your name), congratulations.
  • He hands you your diploma and you two get close together so the photographer can take your picture. The photographer takes the picture when suddenly...
  • TC: (whispering in your ear) I know you like me.
  • You: Oh my god what? (Your face turns really red)
  • TC: Congratulations again!
  • You are in shock. You walk off stage and sit back down in your chair.
  • You: (thinking) What just happened? Did I hear him right? Did he just tell me he KNOWS he likes me? What the fuck?
  • The graduation ceremony ends and you're with all your friends and family in the lobby taking pictures together. (TC's name)comes up to your group.
  • TC: Mind if I have a picture with the new graduate?
  • BFF: SURE!
  • You: (thinking)Oh my gosh, why is all this happening? Why does he want to take a picture with me?
  • You and (TC's name)smile for the picture.
  • TC: can I see the picture?
  • BFF: Yes!
  • TC: (takes your phone and sets a reminder to pop up on your phone for 10pm) Awesome picture!
  • Your TC smiles and walks away. You noticed he was typing while he was supposed to be looking at the picture but you can't find anything. So you forget about it. You and your family go home and have a home celebration. There's gifts, cake and family. You are very tired from the stressful day so you cut the party short and get ready for bed around 9pm. You take a shower and put your night clothes on and you get all comfy in bed. You're laying in bed and you feel your phone buzz. You roll over thinking it was another text from someone congratulating you for graduating. But you were wrong. Your TC put a reminder on your phone to go off at this time. You read it and your heart stops for a good minute.
  • Reminder:
  • I've been waiting a long time to kiss you. Come kiss me.(Address).
  • -(TC's initials)
  • ---------------------
  • This was my first ever long imagine so please, give me some credit lol. I tried my best.
  • Main blog - @tcwes
Mission Mistletoe

 Prompt: The whole team is tired of you and Peter not confessing your feelings so tony takes the matter into his own hands.

a/n: yes I know I’m late in the Christmas fics but better late than sorry right? merry Christmas and happy holidays love you<3

warning: kissing 

 There are only 3 days till Christmas and all of the avengers were spread across the couches in the tv room. Watching Christmas movies since Stevie and Bucky missed a couple good ones.

Everyone in the tower was all in the holiday spirit. Especially Tony. He loved throwing parties and never missed an occasion to party. He didn't need to have the reason or know the holiday to throw a party. But this year he didn't want to throw one. He thought it would be nice if we just spent the holiday in peace. 

So here you are cuddling with Peter and sipping hot cocoa. Since Bucky and Sam were being babies and wanted a blanket each,  you had to share with Peter. Which you didn't mind at all.

 It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t have a slight crush on Peter. Okay, maybe slight isn’t the right word its more of a huge crush on him. 

“what do we watch next?” sam asked as he walked to the kitchen. “how about the grinch?” you suggested “yeah that’s a classic” Peter said smiling at you. 


“why did you call us here Tony?” Steve asked as the walked in the meeting room.

“yeah, and why isn't Y/n and Peter here? Shouldn't they be here too?” Clint asked getting a nod from Natasha who was sitting next to Sam and in front of him.

“ okay okay one question at a time,” Tony said as he plopped a blueberry in his mouth “ this meeting is actually about them" 

“what do you mean” Steve asked confused “ well didn't you guys ever notice the way they look at each other and how in love they are?” everyone nodded “ so what?” Steve said and Tony sighed “ so we have to get them together because it’s really annoyingly cute,” Tony said gagging in the end.

“what would like us to do?” Loki asked, “ thought you would never ask,” Tony said his grin getting wider. 

“mama bird come in mama bird,” said Tony into his walkie-talkie.  "Mama bird here over,“ Clint said hiding in the vents. 

"Will you idiots stop with these stupid code names and start!"Loki whispered/screamed. 

"calm down reindeer we need to know if the coast is clear” Loki rolled his eyes at Tony. 

“Ok, Doritos is the coast clear?” Clint asked, “who is Doritos?"Steve asked, "is that a reference?”

“Argg its gonna be a long night,” Loki said rubbing his temple. 

“ok everyone listens up it is the last time I'm gonna say it”. Tony said in the walkie talkie.

“we each have a bag full of mistletoes and we have to hang them all over the building. We have to put them everywhere, we have to make sure that Y/n and Peter walk under one and kiss." 

"this better work Stark” Sam commented as he placed the mistletoes.


“Why is there so many mistletoes in here?” you asked as you walked in the kitchen, luckily you didn’t walk into one with someone. 

“To get in the holiday spirit that’s all,” Tony said sipping his coffee. 

The kitchen was quite a bit too quiet well for the avengers at lease. Until you heard someone arguing. You and Natasha looked at each other with a raised eyebrows and looked at Tony who simply shrugged in response. 

The three of you went to the living room where you saw Clint and Loki under a MISLETOE. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation since you knew that Clint isn’t very fond of Loki after the incident that happened in New York. Even if Loki had changed his ways Clint didn’t care, Loki was staying in the avenger’s tower because Thor had invited him to spend the holiday here.

You and Natasha looked at each other and burst of laughter. Tony had a hard time controlling it as well he had to cover his laughter in coughs since Loki and Clint glared at him the first time.

“what’s all the ruckus about? some people want to sleep” sam walked out with a very sleepy peter. who looked really cute with his bed hair and a sleepy smile. “Shit,” you thought “ it’s not the time to get distracted by Peter’s cuteness”

“oooh,” sam said with a huge grin on his face “ Loki the god of mischief has to kiss Legolas,” he said amused.

“I will not kiss this pathetic mortal” Loki hissed. “ same here and who you calling pathetic?” Clint walked in front of Loki chest raised. 

A loud booming voice was heard when turned you saw Thor get out of the elevator “ what is the problem fellow companions?” thor said frowning. He was a big puppy in a god’s body. 

“Loki and Clint walked under a mistletoe together and according to the ritual they have to kiss, ” Peter said matter of factly “but they don’t want to”. Thor laughed as he understood the situation and told Loki to just over with it. Loki and Clint kissed well it was more of a peck “ I  gotta wash my mouth with bleach now” Clint said walking away. 


During the day everyone was kissing everyone. After Loki and Clint, Steve and Tony had to kiss, then sam and bucky and then Natasha and Y/n. 

It was funny, but a bit annoying that you never got to do it Peter with you, you knew that he liked you but he never admitted it. 

You were on your way to your room when you bumped into Peter himself. You looked at him and smiled. 

Just when you about to leave someone called you “ Where do you think you’re going young lady” a voice came from behind you. It’s was Tony. 

“uhh, hi Tony,” you said “oh cut the slack Y/n, You know you and Peter are standing under a mistletoe” he pointed above both of your head. 

You looked at Peter he was beet red and you bet you were too, “ what are you waiting for” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You turned towards Peter as if you asked him if it was ok for you to kiss him. He looked at you asking for permission as well.

You smiled and leaned in, so did Peter. 

His lips were soft and the kiss was sweet but it still gave you butterflies. You didn’t want to stop but you had to just as you were about to pull away  Peter pulled you by the waist and kissed you again but more passionately this time, and you wrapped your hands around his neck. 

You broke the kiss when you remembered that Tony was still there. You looked at Peter still blushing not knowing what to say. “Y-y/n would you go out with me?” Peter asked, you pecked his lips and said yes(obviously).

“finally” Tony yelled “ It’s a Christmas miracle" 

2

ONE MORE CHANCE by 1Q96 (on AO3)

This is a story filled with angsty internal monologues, long drives, awkward encounters, sappy love ballads, late night movie marathons, endless conversations about feelings, sleepy subway rides, and a few spontaneous kisses.
___

Staff Sergeant Alexander Lightwood of the US Marine Corps. took a two-week leave from his deployment in Korea so he could attend his brother’s wedding in their hometown of Alicante, New York. Going back home for the wedding meant seeing some familiar faces; so what happens when he’s forced to meet up again with his former childhood best friend and the love of his life, Magnus Bane, a few years after their tragic break-up?

Malec “Ex-Lovers to Friends to Best Friends to Lovers (again)” AU!

Request: Could I request a little fluffy fic with Connor?

A/N: Man… I love Connor. Want to give him all the kisses, all day, every day, to be honest. Also a little short, I apologize!

Your name: submit What is this?

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Title: What You Are In The Dark
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Words: 2157
Summary: Late nights aren’t anything new.
Read on AO3

This is the fic I wrote for @yankasmiles for the @tsukyamgiftexchange! Enjoy!~


Lil note: Okay it’s time for a super embarrassing confession and I hope this isn’t too weird but here we go. So when I first got the message in my inbox like “you will be making a gift for: yankasmiles” I kind of panicked. I saved this as “oh no oh no oh no” in my google docs. I’m a huge fan (I typed fuge han at first lmao) of yours and I admire you so much, both as an artist/general content creator and as a person, and I was really nervous writing this because I’m like “omg what if it’s actually good and Yanka likes it and we start talking and we’re kinda friends??!?!!” because yeah I’m a very shy bean. I just want to talk tsukyam with you because you’re the actual Tsukyam Queen and I’m rambling now but I hope this isn’t too awkward and I really hope you like this!! Happy holidays and happy 2017!!!

Also, thanks to @violet-boy for betaing! You deserve the world <3


The poster is neat and organized, just the way Kei likes it. All the outlining is done, the title’s written at the top in purple pen in a simple but interesting script filled with loops and swirls - thanks to Tadashi, of course; Kei’s never been artsy enough for anything like that - and the pictures are laid out in columns, waiting to be glued down. It isn’t anywhere near finished, sure, but it looks good for what it is. And it’ll get done before tomorrow morning. Somehow.

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Not a Morning Person

(tumblr. please stop hating me…)

So this is for Franzi’s (@faith-in-dean) April Writing Challenge and I know its late - sorry!

Prompt: “And I tell you it was huge!”

Pairing: Sam x Reader (Dean x One Night Stand)

Warnings: interrupted smut, sleep deprived reader, grumpy Dean, oversharing one night stand, Sammy being Sammy.

taggity: @faith-in-dean @mrswhozeewhatsis @aprofoundbondwithdean @spnfanficpond @the-mrs-deanwinchester @pada-ackles @writingthingsisdifficult @meganwinchester1999 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mamapeterson @mrs-squirrel-chester @bkwrm523 @eyeofdionysus @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @spnashley @leviathanslovedick @abaddonwithyall @mysupernaturalfics @blushingsamgirl @unadulteratedstorycollector @beholders-chroniclers @dreamsfromthebunker @ruby-loves-supernatural @teamfreewill-imagine @ilostmyshoe-79 @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki

Originally posted by yaelstiel

Originally posted by supernaturalmentalhealthimagines


Dean had kept you up all night with a blonde from the local bar, and now said blonde was trying to explain to you absolutely everything about Dean. Between your not listening and not caring you heard her mention Dean’s member, for the man who felt like a brother to you - you did not need, nor want, to know more than you already did.

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The signs and sleeping
  • Aries: there are two types of sleeping Ariens; one is the "early to bed early to rise" person during the week and parties hard on the weekends, the other parties all week and sleeps all weekend
  • Taurus: you try to keep your sleep schedule pretty regular but you do occasionally have a sleepless night or days when you sleep waaaaayyyyy too much, that doesn't happen often though
  • Gemini: accidentally stays up too late, oversleeps in the morning, panics and rushes around to get ready, says "I'll never do that again". Except they do it every fuckin' day.
  • Cancer: always sleepy as hell no matter how much sleep you've had and you can fall asleep literally anywhere at any time
  • Leo: you tend to stay up late and yet somehow you always look refreshed and on-point even if you got 20 minutes of sleep
  • Virgo: insomnia to the max, your thoughts keep you up. Likely to pass out at school/work, although you usually don't do so intentionally
  • Libra: 8 hours of sleep every night. Most regular sleep schedule of all the signs. We all hate you for it
  • Scorpio: nocturnal. You like to take night classes/3rd shift work when you can. Even if you do have to function during the day you still stay up until 4am. when that happens you nap periodically throughout the day to make up for it
  • Sagittarius: you can go without sleep for a week but when you do finally burn out you will fall asleep literally a n y w h e r e
  • Capricorn: usually pretty regular sleep schedule but if you're super stressed you tend to occasionally suffer from insomnia. Even if you didn't get any sleep you're usually still able to power through the day
  • Aquarius: probably the weirdest sleep schedule. It's hard for you to keep a job or go to class because you tend to have one or two days of no sleep followed by sleeping for 24-48 hours straight
  • Pisces: I'm not entirely sure you're ever awake tbh. If it's something important, you'll wake up long enough to take notes and do what you need to do and then go straight back to bed
Lucaya One Shot

“Conjugate the verb ‘to be’”

“What does that even mean?” Maya groaned, letting her head fall into her hands against the library table.

Lucas rolled his eyes and tried to take a deep breath to compose himself before responding. “Être, Maya.”

She picked her head up and looked tiredly at the boy who was trying so hard to help her pass this French midterm. “Lucas, it’s almost two in the morning and we have been trying this for hours now and we haven’t gotten anywhere. I’m going to fail and I’m ready to except that, can we just give up already?”

“No,” he shook his head and spoke sternly. “You asked me to help you study so that you could get a passing grade and that is what I am going to do. Now drink some more red bull and conjugate the verb.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as she took a giant slug of her fourth energy drink of the night. He watched her as she stared at the flash card he held up to her and squinted, as if the closer she looked the easier it may be to remember. She finally threw her pen down in frustration and covered her face with her hands.

“I can’t remember any of this! I’ve been taking this class for months now and I still can’t even remember the easiest verb, this is pathetic!”

Lucas put the flash card down on the table and took a sip of his own energy drink that may have had a bit more than just red bull in it. “Vous en pensez trop durement,” he mumbled to himself more so than her.

“I know!” She groaned, looking at him again. “There is just too much to remember!”

He looked at her with wide eyes. “Maya, you understood me.”

She looked back at him confused, clearly not picking up on what had just happened. “Yeah?”

His green eyes lit up with a hope that had left him hours earlier and he threw the flash cards to the floor. “Vous comprenez mieux quand je vous parle!”

“Holy shit!” She exclaimed, joining in his excitement. “I guess I do! Say something else!”

“Cela aurait été une nuit beaucoup plus courte si nous l'avions découvert plus bientôt,” Lucas mumbled again. “Pouvez-vous me répondre?”

She stared at him for a minute in deep thought as she tried to form a sentence. “Je suppose que je n'apprends pas juste conventionnellement.” Her eyes lit up with excitement as she realized he understood her.

“This is amazing,” he beamed at her. “I knew you payed attention in class!”

She blushed a bit, but scoffed to cover it up. “More like I used to watch old French movies with my mom. I guess I picked up a few words here and there over time.”

His green eyes beamed at her and he shook his head adamantly. “You can’t tell me you picked up ‘a few words’ Maya. I knew you had it in you.”

It was then that she noticed the little bit of extra color to his cheeks and how he looked into her eyes a bit longer than usual. “Did you spike your drink Huckleberry?” She asked more amused than anything.

He smirked lazily at her and shrugged. “I had to prepare for a long night, can you blame me?”

She couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head at him. “No, I guess I can’t. Now come on! Talk more French to me!”

He glanced at the clock behind her blonde head and noticed that it was almost 2:30 in the morning and the campus library would be closing soon. “Why don’t we take it back to your dorm. I don’t want to deal with campus security kicking us out.”

Maya nodded and gathered her books while he cleaned up their mess of snacks and empty cans that they had created. They continued studying in Maya’s shared dorm with Riley (that girl could sleep through a damn parade) until some time around dawn when Lucas’ eyelids began to drop.

“You’re not giving up on me yet, cowboy are you?” The blonde teased with way too much energy for it to be so early, or should he say late.

“Mm sleepy,” he slurred in a mixture of intoxication and lack of sleep.

“Sleep is for the weak,” she chuckled right before Riley let out a loud snore from across the room, causing both of them to go into a fit of laughter. “Thanks for helping me, Lucas.”

He opened his eyes completely and smiled at her, crossing his arms behind his neck to lean on. “Hey, I told you I wasn’t giving up on you.”

Even in the dim light of the sunrise and through his buzzed state he could see her cheeks flush as she glanced back down to her notes. “I know. It means a lot.” He closed his eyes, a wide smile on his face and sleep consumed his overtired body a lot quicker than he would like to admit.
—-
It had felt like only a matter of minutes before he was woken up to the sound of a cheery Maya and a bouncing bed beneath him.

“I think I did it!” She squealed above him. “I understood most of it Lucas! I think I passed!”

He opened his heavy eyelids and let a lazy smile take over his face. He was a bit confused as to why he had woken up in Maya’s bed with her straddling his waist until he remember last night’s cram session. Riley was gone to her English midterm and Maya must have just finished her’s. “That’s amazing,” his raspy morning voice croaked out. “I knew you could do it.”

Her face was lit up brighter than the sun that was desperately trying to make it’s way through the blinds and her eyes were scrunched up in the way that only happened when she was truly happy. “I couldn’t have done it with out you,” she beamed. Before he had a chance to realize what was happening, she had grabbed his face and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead. She pulled away still smiling until she saw the look of shock on his face and realized what she had done. Her face fell rather quickly and her mouth formed an “o” shape. She began trying to back away to make her way off of him, but he gripped her hips and held her still before she could. He pulled her down against his chest and held her tightly against him.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her relax in his arms and held her tighter until she returned the gesture. And even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew she was blushing when he said “Je croyais toujours en vous.”

Happy Birthday, Nagisa!

The day had started out as his days usually do, with the not so welcomed sound of his alarm clock. Turning it off and rolling out of bed while rubbing his sleepy eyes awake he turns to check his phone. No new messages. Well that’s disappointing, considering it was his birthday after all, and he made sure his friends knew about it since he’s been talking about it for weeks now. Making plans, hinting at what he wants, even marking it on his friends’ phones and calendars. Not to mention he also announced it to his whole class the week beforehand, so even they knew. He shrugged it off, maybe they’ve all just had a rushed morning and would congratulate him later. ••••••••••••
Running down to get his breakfast he’s greeted by his family and a warm fresh stack of ‘Happy Birthday!’ pancakes with strawberry jam and whipped cream on top, and a bone-crushing hug from his mother and sisters and a less intense one from his father. After eating his birthday breakfast and receiving all the attention he could take from his family he checks his phone again. No new messages. Now he was starting to feel weird about it, but he shrugged it off once more.
••••••••••••
Walking to the train station he was thinking how he’s definitely going to scold Rei for not congratulating him first, since he is in fact his best friend for the rest of forever. He stops to wait for the train. No sight of Rei. Maybe he’s running late? He better call him to be safe. No answer. Now Nagisa was starting to get agitated. It was his birthday after all! How could Rei, of all people forget? He was the most up to date and responsible person he knew. Nagisa got on the train and tried not to think about it, he’ll try calling again when he get’s to the school.
••••••••••••
He gets off the train and still there no new messages on his phone. Nagisa’s feeling severely crestfallen. He knows the day has just started, but he was so sure that his friends, even a few classmates would congratulate him before he even got to the school. Last year he’d gotten a few messages just as the clock struck midnight, so what happened this year? Sighing as he enters the school gates, he checks his phone. No new messages.
••••••••••••
Nagisa walks through the school doors and is greeted by a few students. No ‘happy birthday Nagisa!’ and no new messages.
••••••••••••
By this point Nagisa’s usual bright demeanor is gone and the slight jump in his walk is nowhere to be seen. Now he’s standing right in front of his classroom door, and from the likes of it it seems that no one is inside. Great, this is the last thing he needed. His class went on a field trip and he’d completely forgotten! He hadn’t seen any of his friends, and besides his family everyone forgot his birthday. He wasn’t in the best mood if you asked him. He checks his phone one last time. No new messages.
••••••••••••
Nagisa opens the classroom door.
••••••••••••
“SURPRISE!!!!!!!” Nagisa is bombarded by a storm of confetti and balloons, he can’t help but jump a few steps back. He certainly was not expecting this. In the midst of the confetti and laughs at his reaction was his class, friends, even a few of students from Samezuka. They where all standing around a big cake shaped like the Iwatobi-chan. Haru must’ve baked it, he thought. So this is why he didn’t get any messages, Nagisa thought. They where going to surprise him. Well, they did and he felt so special loved. “You guys….” Tears were welling up in his eyes by this point.
••••••••••••
“Happy Birthday, Nagisa!”