this needs to stop before i'm unable to forgive you for it show

Soulmate Hoshi

Part of the Seventeen Soulmate Series

It’s pretty common to see people with a distracted distant look in their eyes every now and then. Everyone around them knows it’s a sign that their soulmate is currently listening to music, because whatever song their soulmate hears will always play in their own mind at the same volume. 

To you, the funniest thing is seeing the people who can’t help but dance a little- or even sing along- to those distant songs unheard by everyone else. You always find yourself smiling at the sight of them.

Besides, you’re no different. Just as often, you find yourself caught up in some song that you know must be playing across the ocean. You learned that your soulmate was Korean at a pretty young age. The music he listened to was either completely Korean or the occasional English song that he must have been exposed to in his daily life, and when you sang along casually as a child, the people around you worked out what language it was.

Ever since you had grown old enough to know, you started deliberately trying to pick up as much of the language as you could, hoping to be able to speak to your soulmate whenever you did meet him.

Keep reading

of-tomadashis-and-clintashas  asked:

Could you maybe do Clintasha with “i found your box of letters underneath my bed last night and because i’m a nosy motherfucker i decided to read them and it turns out they were all addressed to me and the last one was dated the day you moved out and i’m not quite sure why i thought this would be a good idea but here i am, standing on your doorstep, wondering why the fuck we’re not together anymore” AU because they are both nosy and I'm a sucker for angst and ur writing is amazing

this one started off okay and then it was a downhill spiral from the first glass of wine so pls don’t expect too much

The sudden noise of the doorbell startles Natasha and she jumps slightly from her position in bed, the mug of tea perched precariously against her leg tumbling onto the floor, spilling the lukewarm liquid all over the carpet. “Shit,” she murmurs to herself, grabbing her wallet off of the dresser.

She tips the delivery girl hurriedly with a muttered, “Have a nice night” before depositing the pizza on the counter and tearing a handful of paper towel off the roll to deal with the spill on her bedroom floor.

A shadowy corner under the bed catches her eye as Natasha’s mopping up the tea with the paper towel and she reaches underneath, pulling out a beat-up cardboard shoe box that she doesn’t remember seeing before. Curious, she lifts the lid, revealing a mess of sealed envelopes, each bearing a date. The topmost envelope is dated three weeks ago yesterday. Her stomach plummets as she recalls the events of January 17th.

She shuts the lid on the box, vowing to recycle it and its contents tomorrow morning, but her eyes keep being drawn back to it, to its simplicity, to the mystery it contains. Knowing full well that it’s a bad idea, Natasha opens the box once more, choosing an envelope at random and tearing it open. The paper feels heavy in her hands, as if the weight of the words it carries is too much for her to bear. The handwriting is instantly familiar in a way that makes her chest ache with something akin to longing, but she refuses to call it that, refuses to acknowledge that she wants what she told herself she can never have.

Nat, it reads. You’re sleeping right now. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I could watch you sleep forever. Not, like, in a creepy way. I just never get tired of looking at you.Tears prick at her eyes, blurring the rest of the words on the page. She should stop, Natasha thinks. She should burn the letters and pretend she never found them, do her best to erase the words she just read from her memory and move on.

Instead, she reaches into the box again, pulling out envelope after envelope, unable to stop.

I took you to my parents’ graves today. I wish you could have met them. Mom would have loved you. Today was the 12th anniversary of their death and I never told you, but I felt like you knew. I wish you would tell me about your parents. I want to meet them, wherever they are. Even if they’re just a headstone like mine.

I can’t believe you challenged Tony to a drinking game and won. I didn’t know it was possible for me to love you more than I already did, but I do.

I moved in today. Well, officially moved in. I know I’ve been living out of that one drawer in your closet for months now, but it was time to make it official. I love that we have something we’re allowed to call ours. I love you, Natasha, more than you’ll ever know.

I know something’s wrong. I wish you would talk to me, Nat. I want to be able to help you. I know you’re trying to hide your scars but I can see them. I can feel them. They hurt me as badly as they hurt you.Don’t push me away. Please. Please, Nat, stop pushing me away.

Hands trembling, Natasha reaches into the box once more, lifting out the January 17th envelope. She slides it open slowly, carefully, scared of the words she might find on the page.

You came home from the doctor’s crying. I tried to ask you what was wrong and you pushed me away, screamed at me to get out and leave you alone. I’m standing here with my bags at my feet and I know this is a mistake but I can’t help the way you feel. For whatever I’ve done, Nat, I’m so sorry. I can only hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday. In the time being, if you ever need me, you’ll know where to find me. I love you Natasha, more than I know how to say. Nothing you do will ever change that. Yours, always, Clint.

Tears blurring her vision, Natasha shoves the letters back into the shoebox angrily, furious that he still has the power to make her feel this way. Before she knows what she’s doing she’s pulling on her jacket and shoving her feet into boots, headed out the door with the box of letters in her hand.

She’s on his doorstep before she can really process what she’s doing, hand poised to knock, when all of a sudden it hits her that she can’t show up at his door after everything she said to him, after the way that he left. But it’s too late. Just as she lowers her hand and decides to walk away and leave this all behind her, the door swings open.


“Sorry,” she murmurs, clutching the box of letters to her chest. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll…I’ll just…”

Clint reaches out towards her as she turns to leave, his hand closing around her wrist. “Natasha, wait.”

She turns uncertainly, the weight of his words heavy in her arms. “I shouldn’t have read these,” she says quietly, thrusting the box towards him. “I’m sorry.”

Clint makes no move to take the box, instead bringing a hand to her shoulder tentatively, his grip becoming firmer as she makes no move to shake him off. “I left them for you, Natasha. I wanted you to read them.”

She shakes her head slowly, confusion etched into the lines of her face. “I don’t understand. Clint…why?”

“Because I’m still in love with you Natasha!” An edge of frustration creeps into her voice as he takes a step closer to her, the box of letters the only remaining barrier between her body and his. “And you can try to avoid me, you can try to push me away, but I’m always going to be here.”

She looks down at the box in her hands to avoid his eyes, uncertain.


“Just tell me what you want,” he says gently.

“I think…” she pauses, shifting back and forth on her feet. “I think I want to start over.”

Clint’s lips crash to hers in an instant as he murmurs, “Then what are you waiting for?”

is it the thunder in the distance you fear/will it help if I stay very near/I am here

*shifty-eyed* @newandold here
(this is my third fic in three days, I’m in BNHA hell)

Summary: Because One For All gapes, is hungry and insatiable, has sucked away the strength and will of generations as the torch was passed down. The power is less of a gift and more of a roaring flood; he remembers how it ripped through him, can see it ripping through Midoriya, and finally says no.

He will not lose another to the maw of One For All. 

(aka I’m in Dad Might BNHA hell and there is no going back)

Rating: Gen; T for the nightmares and slightly gory imagery. Fluff alert. Centered around chapter 95.

(Note: the title is from Peter, Paul & Mary’s “Day Is Done,” which I related to BNHA thanks to @toastyhat‘s BNHA playlist here *nervously tags someone I follow but have never talked to)

Keep reading

I Thought I Wasn't Wanted Anymore - Ashton Imagine - Part 2 - Requested



Part 1

“Alright, now the fun part; apologizing to them…” I murmured squeezing Ashton’s hand in the back of the taxi as we pulled up to the venue. I had to own up to being a bitch to the guys. Once I had realized what I was doing, I tried to leave and fly back home. But Ashton had stopped me. Now we were back and I had to face the guys. But I was going to own it; I had been a bitch so I should face it.

“They’ll forgive you. They know you’re not usually like that…” He whispered comfortingly. I shook my head squeezing his hand tighter.

“No… I’ve heard what they said Ashton, at least right now they hate me.” I said and he sighed but he couldn’t deny it. I had been such a brat it was no surprise they hated me. I just hadn’t been able to see it.

“Hey, they know that’s not who you really are…” He said as we went toward the stadium’s entrance. I let out another dramatic sigh.

“Yeah but it’s who I have been.” I said pushing open the doors. The crew looked surprised when they saw us. The good news was that I didn’t to get hounded by security when I was with Ashton. At this point in the tour, they could just recognize him and let me through, too. I followed Ashton through the halls nervously wringing my hands together.

Keep reading

All I Want for Christmas is You \\\ Luke Hemmings Imagine.

Description: Christmas angst turns into Christmas fluff.

N/A: I was going to post this earlier, but Christmas stress me out terribly and I wasn’t in a good enough mood to type this. But it’s here now! (Better late than never).

 Word Count: 1607.

“I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you”


The Christmas Eve sky was upon their heads and Luke’s arms held her in a hug so tight it could fit all the love in the universe inside it (and maybe it did). Her eyes were closed and her face hidden so deep in his chest that they could be one and no one would be able to tell them apart. His worried blue eyes were gazing up at the stars while his fingers ran through her brown hair in a soothing manner, trying to calm her down and make her safe again in his long arms.

And, after what felt like ages, she lays her head on his chest where she hid before, the pretty face still tainted by the tears she miserably cried not long ago. Her breath slowly goes back to the normal rhythm, that calm sound Luke got used to hear in the mornings, like a serenade to the first minutes of the day. He strokes her back swiftly, trying to get her attention.

“Feeling better?”, he whispers, not wanting to be blunt when she’s so fragile.

“Not really. But I’m really glad that you’re here. You’re the only thing that can make my chest less of a mess just by being by my side. I’m just sorry you had to rush here on Christmas. You’re supposed to be home”.

“I don’t mind, really. If you need me, I’m here. That’s how it works with us, right? Whenever you call me, I’ll be there. Same way that you always come when I need you”.

“Some would call it symbiosis. But we know better, and this is simply what love is like”.

He smiles, and his fingers trail down her neck, making her sigh.

“You know you’ll have to go back down and face your family at some point, right?” She freezes between his arms, her eyes terrified. “I don’t mind staying, babe, but Christmas is about family. You shouldn’t be apart from yours. They’re worried about you down there. That’s why your mother called me”.

“I don’t want to go back there and be judged by them all night. I’m so tired of being a disappointment and having to take all those disgusted looks”.

“Don’t talk like that, please. Nobody’s going to…”

“You know they will”, she interrupts.

Not without effort, she disentangles herself from his hug, putting some space between their bodies. For a second they stand still, paralyzed by the force of their own stares (it happens all the time). She’s now sitting a few steps away from him, dark eyes deep into his much lighter ones.

“They just created this idea of me in their minds… This absurd alternative version of reality where I have to be great, impressive and fail proof. And I’m not any of those things. I’m this little shred of nothing, this completely lost little girl that doesn’t have any great future waiting ahead. I don’t have any plans or skills. I have nothing to show them. And I don’t wanna go down there and hear that I should already be making them proud by now. That I should have graduated already, that I should be pursuing a proper career, that they’re wasting their hopes on me. I don’t want to pass through that all again, not this year. So I’m staying here, just me and you and the stars. And everything will be just fine”.

Luke lets a tired sigh fall through his lips, his eyes looking at her with care.

“You demand too much of yourself, babe. You’re great already, you’re wonderful. Fuck, if you could just see what I see when I look at you…”

“You’re too sweet, Hemmings”, she says, and her fingers draw a line along his profile. He closes his eyes slightly, giving in to the familiar touch. “But you’re wrong. You only see me like that because you love me”.

“They love you too, Y/N. They are your family, after all”.

“I was born in the midst of them and they chose to have that new life. And when it was obvious I was a wreck it was too late to change that. It wasn’t like they had a choice or anything”.

“Don’t be ungrateful, babe…”

“No, it’s really just that. They are the reason why I am here, sure, but that’s all that bind us. They have the genes and probabilities that made me who I am, but this doesn’t make what we share sacred or anything”.

“Don’t be pragmatic. Not now and not today, of all days. Of course they had a choice, and they chose to love you and to take you in even with all of your flaws and slip ups, because you’re you, and you’re one of them. And they do love you still, even if you don’t believe it. But it’s Christmas night, for God’s sake, and I don’t wanna fight with you about this - you’re wrong, anyway. Today is about being thankful and spending some time with your loved ones, and that includes your Family. And this is sacred enough for one night”.

“I rather just be with you, whom I chose to love”, she shrugs, and her eyes are sincere.

“I love you too, Y/N, but it’s not the same thing, and you know it”, he mutters.

“It is for me”.

“But it really isn’t. We’re not a real family. Not yet, anyway”.

And the silence that falls between them drags itself for a whole minute. And then it hits her, and all she can do is smile.

“Not yet?”

“Oh, shit”, he hisses, knowing he said a bit too much.

She comes closer, her face radiating an energy she showed no sign of having 30 seconds ago. He loves how only he can do that. He loves the effect he has on her.

“Now, don’t do that. Stop it. Don’t do the eyes”, he begs, because her eyes are so happy she could probably throw a party inside of them. “I still don’t have the ring, so you can’t stop with the happy face. You’re not making me propose right now. I ain’t gonna be the guy that asks you to marry him without a proper engagement ring on his pocket”.

But she bites her lips, looking up at him expectantly, and he knows it is too late, because he could never deny anything to that stare. He shakes his head, frustraded, knowing very well he’s completely defeated.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even get it. I need you, and I want to be with you forever; So, why not? I want to have the pleasure of saying that we, together, are something else. Sacred, if you want. We’re more than a chance, more than the simple choice of being together. We are love, and that is what’s going to make us family. Because that is exactly what family is supposed to mean”.

Her eyes water and her breath hitches, and she never felt so happy before.

“Love. Family. You and me?”

“Yeah. You and me, just like it has always been”, and she laughs, a single tear running through her eyelashes. She’s content. “And this was the worst proposal ever made, because you couldn’t wait a couple of weeks ‘till I had your ring”.

She shrugs, obiously not caring.

“It was perfect”.

He rolls his eyes, holding her hand and pushing her closer.

“You don’t have a single romantic bone in your body”.

“There’s enough of romance for both of us in you, Luke Hemmings”. And he blushes, because she’s right. “Yes, by the way”.


“Yes, I’ll mary you. I’ll take the whole Family thing with you. I’m down for the loving you forever part of this relationship”.

He smiles.

“In this case, making use of my recently granted position as your fiancée, I’m forcing you to go down there and spend the Christmas night with the people that love you”.

“What, no”, she begins, but he shoves her up and push her in the direction of the stairs.

“Family. You, me and them”.

She stays silent for a second, lips pursed.

“Ok, ok. It’s Christmas. It’s supposedly time to love and forgive”.

“And what exactly are you forgiving, love? The behavior you think they would have?”

“Precisely that”.

He rolls his eyes again, knowing very well he’s doomed to always be worried about those lapses in judgment and what suffering they could bring to his, and he loves to spell it, bride.

“I’m also sharing my immense happiness for getting married with the most perfect man standing on this earth”.

“Which is me, I imagine”.

“Actually, Ashton dropped by earlier, and he also proposed. I said yes”.

“Shut up”, he says, pouting, but she’s laughing. He kisses her, unable to stop himself, and she lets her head rest on his shoulder, feeling peace rush through her.

“You’re my safe heaven, Luke. And you’ve been family to me for so long now that I can’t even begin to tell how happy it makes me that you asked me to be yours as well. And if that is what Christmas stands for, then I’m going to live every bit of it as it should be lived”.

“Thank you, I guess”, he says, and she chuckles, her face hidden on the crook of his neck. “So, you’re changing your mind about this Christmas business, huh?”

“What I can say about it… If we are proof of anything, is that love is important and family is more than just a blood bind. I guess this turn tonight sacred enough for me”.

Philinda Fanfic: The Time of his Second Life


SPOILER: Everything up to 1x22, except for the last thirty seconds. Not dealing with Phil going crazy in this one.

SUMMARY: After learning Coulson isn’t dead, Tony Stark throws him a party of a lifetime. - Or the one where Iron Man and Coulson talk too much

NOTES: Set somewhere in the near future. Fluff piece written for my own amusement. Sorry not sorry.


“So you’re Coulson’s date,” said Tony Stark as he maneuvered them over the dance floor in a slow waltz.

Melinda looked over his shoulder and into the crowd. She wasn’t his date. She just accompanied him. Simmons and Skye were here too. And besides, Phil dated Audrey. Well, would date once the cellist would eventually forgive him for keeping his resurrection from her.

Tony twirled her around. “Coulson never told me about you,” he said.

She shouldn’t have agreed to dance with him. He might be a genius but unfortunately he was also full of himself.

“Since when are you two together?” Tony asked as he pulled her back against him and lead them into another circling motion.

She pressed her lips together. The last time she had danced with Fury at one of these silly official events she hated so much. This wasn’t much better, but it was for Phil and he seemed to have the time of his second life – which was also the motto for this night’s party, as every banner in the great hall read in bright letters.

“There’s something going on between the two of you, isn’t there? I’m trustworthy, you can tell me.”

Keep reading

Having your wost nightmare come true can be the best thing that has ever happened to you. For Blaine Anderson, this is going to be the case.

Of course there was a lot of anger directed at Kurt when the news broke about their break up, because he has essentially just made Blaine’s worst insecurity come true. The confrontation in Tested was so very present in our minds, so was the solution that wasn’t really a solution. As it has become customary with the two frustrating idiots that we love, they dealt with the surface effect and left the inflamed wound beneath untreated.

But the thing about Glee is that pain is never the end of the story, neither is fighting the pain and prevailing over it. It’s the lessons learned that matter. From where I’m standing, season 5 left me with a Blaine who was so terrified of losing Kurt that he kept reacting in a way that made things worse, clinging to Kurt and lying to avoid hurting him, a Blaine that was unable to breath when Kurt was mad at him and whose reaction to Kurt forgiving him was flooding gratitude, a Blaine who was reacting to what Kurt needed and going out of his way to do it when it didn’t suit him, a Blaine who was getting so lost inside the relationship that I had trouble deciding what he wanted for himself and what he wanted because of Kurt, and who was viewing himself and Kurt as one entity, a Blaine who was trying too hard to be perfect to be worthy of love and since perfect was unreachable, he was crumbling, a Blaine whose self worth and validation came from his relationship.

Well, his relationship is gone. And he gets depressed, flunks out and stops singing. They say you have to lose everything before you can really find yourself.

Rock bottom, he has been there, lost everything, lost himself and his voice and he is clawing his way out. He has to learn how to go on and function and live without Kurt, without even the possibility of Kurt returning. I don’t think he has dealt with everything yet, his anger is still simmering beneath the surface looking for an out, he is still struggling to find a balance between who he was at Dalton and who he was outside it, struggling not to be sucked into the persona of Blaine Warbler. He still has many struggles.

But the lesson is that he survived without Kurt. He breathed without Kurt. He is building something that is no one else’s but his. He found a purpose, even if it’s temporary. He stood up for himself, to an extent, during the break up. I was so terrified that he was going to follow his “Was it something I did?” with “I can change” (And damn, isn’t that a cliche? And isn’t change exactly what Blaine tried to do once he started at Dalton? Still reacting to external circumstances. But then he realized, he doesn’t have to change) But his anger at Kurt was good, his “I will never forgive you” is good, his anger and distrust of Kurt after the Jane debacle is good (Yes, I know. Weird. But if you broke your arm and it healed wrong, you break it again so it would heal right. Blaine had trust issues just as much as Kurt did but he was silent about it. Now he can learn to trust again that Kurt is safe) Honestly, did you ever think we’d get to a place where Blaine doesn’t let go of his anger just because he loves Kurt? Where you can see him stand and call Kurt out on his part of their issues and on his mistakes? Because right now, I can see him do those things. And it’s about freaking time.

(A lot of people pointed out what Blaine said about his therapist telling him to focus on what he loves the most, which is music. Remember when his dream, in an episode about schools and professional dreams, was Kurt? Insert achievement gif here)

Blaine’s worst nightmare comes true and he overcomes it. He stumbles and hides and denies but he works through it and he remains standing, reinvigorated, someone who trusts in his accomplishments and takes validation from them, someone who stands up for himself, someone who realizes that he doesn’t need to try to be perfect to be worthy of Kurt’s love, someone who doesn’t need another to breath, someone who is whole on his own and not part of a whole. He does this. Or he will. He’ll fix it, he just needs a little time.