this song is stuck in my head and it's so perfect for them help

little miss sweet dreams

[archie andrews x reader] [hints of jason blossom x reader]

author’s note: when the inspiration hits you, it feels like a freight train. but in a fit of irony, it’s not painful. it’s actually quite fulfilling. hope you like this!

word count: 12,061 (yes. i know.)

here’s the song i used for inspo. it’s my favorite song in general atm: x

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Spencer Reid x Reader 

Summary: With the help of a wedding reception and a love song, Spencer has a revelation of his own love. 

Word count: 786

A/N: I’ve had the basic premise of this plot running through my head for a while, but after listening to “I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues” a few weeks ago and having it stuck in my head the entire time, I knew it was the perfect song. If you haven’t heard it before, here is a link! It’s a beautiful song and I genuinely love. And as always, GIF is not mine and feedback is appreciated!

A warm sensation of bliss had come to settle over you, half of it due to the flutes of champagne that were passed around during the bridesmaid’s speech and the other half coming from the intoxicatingly jubilance that filled the atmosphere.

Somewhere down the line of your first or second cousins, one of them was getting married and demanded your presence to be there. And while you were apprehensive at first for the inevitable onslaught of questions you would receive from distant aunts and uncles as to when it would be your turn in a white dress, Spencer had ultimately coerced you into going, to which you were thankful for as you leaned into his side, watching as the coveted first dance between husband and wife had come to an end.

Through teary eyes, you, as well as the rest of the room, filled the reception hall with your applause and cheers of excitement for the happy couple. As other guests began to fill the dance floor in preparation for the next song, you turned to place a kiss on Spencer’s cheek.

“Thank you for convincing me to come,” you whispered against the shell of his ear to ensure he heard you, “I’ve had a lot of fun tonight.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Spencer laced his fingers through yours, bringing your joined hands up to his lips, “Thank you for allowing me to be your date.”

Before the words confessing to your boyfriend that he is the only date you would ever want could leave your mouth, a familiar tune of piano keys flits over the chatter of the reception, but it’s just loud enough for you to recognize immediately.

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anonymous asked:

"You love me, right?" maybe where Harry is asking the question after a fight or something...

This isn’t the best I have to admit, but I wanted to try and write some thing and kind of help get my mind of my pain from the surgery for a bit. Sorry for taking ages and Thank you for leaving a suggestion! Also wittle vulnerable harry melts my heart. Under the cut cause it went on for ages for which i apologise profusely.

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It’s My Job- Lin x Reader

I’m not putting any warnings, because if period talk bothers you, you need to be educated on the female body. 


You were laying on the bed cramping when the bedroom door opened. Your husband of six years rushed into the room, barely looking up until he saw you still in bed.

“Morning, (Y/N). You feeling okay?” His hair fell against his shoulders, slightly wavy from where his hair band had been the night before. Stubble adorned his cheeks, and the ever-present bags under his eyes were a light purple. He stripped off the t-shirt he wore to bed and tossed it in the hamper before crawling over the bed to you.

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La La Land (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

A/N: Hey guys! So sorry there haven’t been any updates in a while but here is something!!! I have a bunch of ideas but I’m having trouble finding time to write. More stories to come soon! Leave some feedback if you’d like :) Also La La Land has become my new obsession so…. here. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,018

Prompt: You’re at the cinema alone and so am I we might as well sit together and I swear I didn’t think there was anyone else in this universe who appreciates this movie like I do.

- Written by Brie - 

You’re lame. You’re so lame you can’t even believe yourself. Who the hell goes to the theater alone at two in the afternoon just to see a movie for the third time. You, that’s who. You didn’t even bother to stop at the concession counter for the classic popcorn and soda combo as you hurried to your theater door, by now were an expert at sneaking outside food into the theater. If only the snack counter sold chicken nuggets and fries, you wouldn’t have to feel so guilty sneaking in your salty contraband.

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Days Of Summer


jk, but it is on the lighter side! The ever loved rock camp au, insipred by the masterpiece that was Camp Rock. Idk if you have me to blame or @hannah-nobody, but you are all welcome either way. 

This here is the collab her and I have been talking about for forever, and now we’re posting it in an attempt to make ourselves actually fucking finish it, but there is no motivator like disappointment.

Have Hannah’s made up reviews!

  • a beautiful coming of age story - ny times 
  • one giant shit post - person

Quick notes - Every chapter will have a set of songs to go along with it, all being added to this spotify playlist with each chapter! All genres are used, and we hope it will be as cringey as possible!

Summer has arrived, and with it the start of the two month long music camp; Fairy Tail! Full of new songs, friends, and adventures, the campers learn things they never knew about themselves and one another. And just how easy it is to sneak booze and a full sized karaoke machine out into the middle of the woods.

Camp Rock!AU

Pairing: Nalu, Gajevy, Gruiva, others mentioned; Fairy Tail

Words: 5631

Rating: T

Parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter ThreeChapter Four

Chapter One: The Start of Something New

Now who’d have ever thought that

we’d both be here tonight?

Oh yeah

And the world looks so much brighter

with you by my side

The music pounded through Natsu’s veins as the last notes of the song faded away and the crowd erupted into a series of screams. The band members on stage smiled as they tossed various mementos to their mud-splattered fans; picks, drumsticks, water bottles. Hands groped desperately at the air, his own among them.

He wasn’t really paying attention. His own voice joined in with the noise as he let go of all the energy the atmosphere of the festival has stirred within him. His head tipped back and he squeezed his eyes shut as he cheered.

When the band finally left the stage, Natsu looked around. He stood on his tip toes, trying to find Gajeel’s unruly mane of black hair in the sea of sweat-soaked festival-goers. When Natsu couldn’t spot him, he decided to head back to the tent.

Still on high from the previous band’s performance, Natsu made his way almost absently through the crowd. Most people lingered, waiting eagerly for the next act to come on, leading him to gently push a few people out of his way. Some people decided to sit during the break, not caring about the mud beneath them. Others remained on the shoulders of their friends, basking in the heat of the sun that had come and gone for most of the weekend.

One of the shoulder-riding music lovers caught his attention.

She was perched on someone a few people in front of him, and she was stunning. He altered his route in order to take in more of her. She was screaming as though the band were still on stage, making rock signs with her fists as she waved her arms in the air. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, but strands fell loosely on her sunburned shoulders.  A pink crop-top exposed her stomach, where someone had painted a peace sign in neon green paint around her belly button.

He grinned as she wobbled on a dark-haired boys shoulders, but the blonde’s own expression turned from laughter to panic as she lost her balance.

Instinctively, Natsu pushed through the crowd and got to her just in time to soften her fall with his own body. The two of them fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

“Oooooowwww,” The blonde groaned from on top of him.

She raised her head, and a splotch of mud had somehow made its way onto her cheek. Natsu stared at her in bewilderment as she looked at him, eyes wide, then giggled.

He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he became aware of her body pressed against his. He’d thrown his tattered shirt away long ago, and surprisingly he didn’t feel self-conscious going shirtless among the energetic crowd. Especially not now that the pretty blondes’ hands roamed over his bare chest. Natsu quickly sat up before he became too absorbed with her wandering hands, tightening the scarf around his neck before helping her up and sheepishly apologising.

“No, no, no,” She smiled at him, “Don’t be sorry! It was Gray’s fault. He’s so meeeean.“

The girl pouted and Natsu felt a smirk pulling at his lips. He had no idea who Gray was, but he was very glad that they’d chosen to shrug her off their shoulders, for whatever reason.

Seeing his smirk, the girl’s laughter died off and she bit her lip in thought. She stepped closer, invading his personal space. His breath hitched when she placed a hand back on his chest.

“Thanks,” She told him, her voice low, before leaning up on her tip-toes and placing a light kiss on his cheek.

Her lips were sticky with pink lip gloss, and he found himself wondering what they tasted like when she drew back.

Her hand remained on his chest.

“Y’know, you’re pretty cute,“ She mused aloud.

“Erm…” He had no idea what to reply. He’d never been called cute before.

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Cassian (& Nesta) Headcannon

This got a bit…. long


•Cassian, with his 500 years of living, has picked up how to play some musical instruments out of curiosity
•BUT, he’s never really played in front of or for anyone
•His favorite instrument is definitely the piano
•He just- he loves the way the chords flow together and the sounds that resonate in a room even after he’s stopped pressing down on the keys
•He loves to lose himself in the notes; to let everything in him be consumed by the way music affects him so intensely
•So one day, Cass is in the House of Wind or something when everyone else is gone doing their own thing
•He’s wandering around and just so happens to walk past one of his favorite rooms, where his beloved piano is bathed in golden sunlight in this open, airy balcony, music room type of thing
•And his fingers twitch as his side, yearning to create melodies long since suppressed, considering he hasn’t played in what seems like forever
•So he gently crosses the room and sits down on the bench; runs a hand lovingly across the lid of his piano before placing his fingers tentively on the ivory keys
•And with a deep breathe to calm his nerves, he begins to play
•It’s messy at first; years of not playing has caused his brain to muddle his usual technique, but he still continues, pushing on
•Slowly, slowly, the notes start to come out smoother
•Memories and notes come back to him in waves; his fingers dancing across the keys in excitement, having almost forgotten how good it feels to release his emotions and craft them into something beautiful
•He remembers now, why he started learning to play piano in the first place
•He remembers: a younger Cassian wandering around Velaris, centuries ago, and hearing something that stopped him in his tracks
•It was music- a type he’d never heard before; music that burrowed itself in his skin and settled along his bones
•So he followed that sound, coming to a shop with its door open, and peered in to see an older woman sitting at a piano bench
•He watched her for a few moments, losing himself in the movement of her hands- how intricate the chords seemed to be, and he wanted it so bad- wanted to know how to create something as breathtaking as that
•So after her musical piece came to an end, he approached her, swallowing his pride to get out the following breathless words, “Can you- can you teach me?”
•From then on, he would go to that little shop to be taught the ways of the massive instrument
•She taught him & he learned to know which pedals to push and how long to hold each note; how to build a piece higher and higher until the crescendo shattered into existence, all from the tips of their fingers
•Eventually, when he was quite advanced in learning and playing after months of practice, the woman told him that her job was done, all that was left was for him to create his own music instead of learning hers
• “You have so much inside of you,” she had said, gently pressing a palm to his heart. “You must take all those deeply buried feelings and let them out. Forge them into something useful, something that brings you peace instead of turmoil. You must understand that music is your companion, it will be there when all else is lost. Don’t forget to share your burdens, your happiness, your sorrow, with the one thing that will never betray you.” With that, she had taken the hand that was still on his chest and placed it on her magnificent piano, letting her own memories sweep her into an inviting embrace as Cassian quietly left for the day
•A few weeks later, as Cassian was making his way back to the old lady’s piano shop for a visit, he walked in to find the place empty- all except the piano they had played on together for hours on end
•And as he made his way over to the instrument, he found a note laying on top of it saying, “She is now yours, and she is your friend. Treat her well.”
•Cassian has never seen her again, but the memory of her will live on with him for as long as he’s alive
•So now, he is currently sitting still at the House of Wind, having lost himself in the memories of his earlier life, and he just - starts crying
•Like, it hits him so hard and he misses the old woman who taught him how to play and he wants to go back to the time where everything was not quite so hectic; before Amarantha and the King of Hybern and all the wars that he has fought in
•He wants to go back to the time where his soul wasn’t so heavy, even though he has never experienced a time where he’s been completely light hearted
•Not until her
•With that thought, his silent tears instantly slow until they stop
•When he’s with her, everything seems so simple
•Although she’s a pain in the ass a lot of the time, he wouldn’t have it any other way
•He recalls a past conversation with Rhysand, where his brother had confessed to him that when Feyre and him had first gone to the Summer Court, Feyre had told the High Lord Tarquin that, “It would be very easy to love you.” Rhys had been a wreck whenever it came to his mate (during the time she didn’t know she was his mate yet)
•But those words had stuck with Cassian for a while
•It is very, very easy to love Nesta
•With that notion, and feeling of love in his heart, he begins to play again
•But this song is slow, peaceful, and effortless
•He let’s his heart compose this piece, as his hands do the work
•The music is lovely, resembling the most cherished of his feelings
•And Cassian can’t help but memorize it; he knows it’s dedicated to his love- to Nesta
•And after this afternoon is over, and he has created the most graceful tune he has ever played, he knows he has to show her
•So when the opportunity arrives a week or two later, and Nesta & Cassian are alone, he brings her to his music room, and plays the piece he crafted for her
•And she knows, can feel it deep down in her soul, that the music he plays for her is for her ears alone
•She cherishes it, loves it, spills more than a few tears over it
•Cassian is so nervous and anxious because this is his first time showing someone this part of him, this love for piano
•But Nesta just comes over to sit next to him on the bench, and leans her head on his shoulder as she gently grabs his hand and entwines her fingers with his
•And he’s just silent, so full of happiness and he’s content and he’s proud to have a woman like Nesta in his life
•He tentively asks her, “Do you like it?”
•She turns her head to peer up at him, her eyes shining silver, “It’s perfect.”
•And the purest smile appears on his face and it just breaks her heart and mends it back together again all in the same instant and she leans in to kiss him
•And the kiss is slow and extraordinary, and it reminds them that they have the rest of their immortal lives to be with each other, and even in death they will not be separated

Chamber of Secrets - Part 1

Originally posted by nctaliaromanova

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After the Avenger’s falling out, you were put in charge of putting Bucky together. Under King T’Challa’s orders, you were given a month’s time to create a new arm while simultaneously figure out how to get the triggering memories of his past out of his mind. As the time goes by, you found yourself confiding in him, despite his frozen state.

Word count: 1809 words

A/N: This is the first ever series I’m posting, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Since I don’t have a tag list, I’m tagging those who inspired me to start posting my writing on Tumblr, I hope you guys don’t mind. I will untag you if you don’t want to be tagged :)


Tags: @bovaria@thenightmarebeforebucky@beccaanne814-blog@buckyywiththegoodhair@rheavanya@cassiopeiassky@avengerofyourheart

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From 'The O.C.' to 'Saturday Night Live': How Lonely Island's 'Dear Sister' came about

People probably remember Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” for one of two things: Either because the track featured prominently in the season 2 finale The O.C., which saw Mischa Barton’s Marissa Cooper shoot her boyfriend Ryan’s older brother, Trey — or because the Lonely Island used the song during an O.C.-inspired Saturday Night Live sketch by the name of “Dear Sister.”

The digital short, which premiered on April 14, 2007 (two years after The O.C. season 2finale), shows Bill Hader’s character, Keith, get shot by his friend Dave (Andy Samberg), kicking off a chain reaction that sees Keith shoot Dave back, Dave shoot their mutual friend Eric (episode host Shia LaBeouf), all three men shoot Keith’s sister (Kristen Wiig), and both police officers who arrive on the scene shoot each other. And with each resounding gunshot, the Imogen Heap song cues anew. (Watch the short above.)

With 10 years having passed since SNL served its own homage to that now-iconic teen show moment — and the sketch continuing to inspire more parodies — EW caught up with Andy Samberg, Jorma Taccone, and Akiva Schaffer to discuss how the sketch, which O.C. creator Josh Schwartz describes as the “ultimate tribute,” came about.

Mmm… Whatcha say we parody this?

SAMBERG: When “Hide and Seek” aired on The O.C., we all became somewhat obsessed with that song. I remember listening to it on headphones while we were shooting with Jimmy Fallon on the MTV Movie Awards when we were writers before we got SNL. I remember being on a stage at Universal where he was shooting the pre-tapes and Jorma had it on his headphones, and we kept being like, “God, that song is so cool.”

We couldn’t let go of the O.C. thing and that song, because Akiva, Jorma, and I were obsessed with The O.C. [The sketch] was 100 percent because of that the season 2 finale. It’s a classic moment, and we love doing digital shorts about movie and TV tropes. The “Gunshot That Happens Off-Camera, and Then Everything Cranks Into Slo-mo and Someone Realizes They Have Blood on Their Hands When They Look Up” is a move done a bunch of times, and we always really loved it.

We actually started shooting a version of that short before we got hired at SNL. But we never finished it. We got hired pretty soon after that. And one week when we were particularly desperate, I think I said, “Why don’t we try that O.C. thing again?”

TACCONE: We’d only gotten three or four gunshots in our version. Right?

SAMBERG: Yeah. Up to where Shia was in the SNL one.

TACCONE: It was originally me on the couch and Andy entering and shooting me.

‘We have a weird idea. Just show up.’

SCHAFFER: I don’t think we showed [that O.C. scene] to anybody [on the cast]. We just said, “Trust us. We have a weird idea. Just show up.” When Fred [Armisen] and Jason [Sudeikis] showed up in their cop uniforms, they literally had not even been told what they were doing. We just told them, “You guys are cops. Show up at this place.”

SAMBERG: Bill [Hader] loved it. For a lot of the early stuff, we would be working with Bill since we have a very similar sensibility to him. He’s a super cinephile as people now know. But he understood and loved it immediately as I recall… But we didn’t really have to explain that we were parodying The O.C. because the song was the only thing that made it 100 percent from the show. Everyone else kind of got the reference from other stuff too.

SCHAFFER: We knew that most people wouldn’t know the O.C. reference so we weren’t like, “This is only for O.C. fans.” We figured it was funny on its own to some degree. But we also knew it was just kind of a strange art piece cause it doesn’t really have a necessarily beginning, middle, and end in a traditional sense. It is kind of surreal and just taking apart a trope as opposed to telling a story in any normal way that someone would think of. It’s not a traditional sketch.

‘We’re gonna go artsy today…’

SCHAFFER: There wasn’t even any preproduction involved. The fake gun isn’t even from SNL props. It’s one that we personally owned. I forgot where I bought that plastic gun, but it was something we’ve had for years.

TACCONE: [The shoot] was pretty last minute overall because we really hadn’t come up with the ending of the sketch until we were in the room together actually shooting it, right?

SAMBERG: That’s so crazy. I forgot that.

TACCONE: The fear of not having an ending inspired us.

SAMBERG: How much of that ending did we come up with at that moment?

TACCONE: We had the cops come in, obviously, because we had the costumes and all that stuff. Then we just came up with the cacophony of sound thing on set… Did we have an alternate ending?

SCHAFFER: I think that was it. During the editing, I kept layering music and going, “Ooh We’re gonna go artsy today… This is like an independent film.”

SAMBERG: When we were editing there was a moment where we discussed whether it should go on for three times as long, where the cacophony of sound just continued and we made the audience sit there for a minute and a half while it played out.

TACCONE: We did shoot till pretty late. Right? Not as bad as some of our other shorts.

SCHAFFER: I remember [Jason] Sudeikis in his police uniform asleep on one of the beds in the hotel suite. I think we shot until four.

SAMBERG: That was one of the first times we went really deep.

‘Shout out to Shia!’

SCHAFFER: I don’t remember this but did we show Shia our original half-finished one? Or did we keep that one a secret?

TACCONE: I think we didn’t even have that available to show him. Was that on another computer in L.A.?

SAMBERG: I don’t think we did. I do remember that we tried to get him out of there before we shot the rest of it because he was hosting… But I feel like Shia was just like, “Cool!” He was really, really chill when he hosted.

SCHAFFER: He was just kind of up for anything.

SAMBERG: I remember when we started editing, we were all really impressed with how realistically Shia let his head hit the ground.

SCHAFFER: That’s a real actor. He kept his eye for the shot of his eyeball. We were like, “This is a real actor.” I remember thinking that not ironically.

SAMBERG: Shout out to Shia.

SCHAFFER: Yeah. We’re big Shia heads.

The Force It Awakened

SCHAFFER: I remember feeling pleasantly surprised that people got it. I’m not even sure what there is to get. But the audience seemed to enjoy it and cheer when it was over. That was a relief and somewhat of a surprise to me.

TACCONE: And that song holds up. Bon Iver did his own version of it on that new album.

SCHAFFER: We’ve never heard from Imogen Heap [about the sketch] but we’re sure it’s helped sell more singles.

SAMBERG: We have heard from their camp that we can’t have the sketch on Hulu.

SCHAFFER: That was just not for any real reason except that we didn’t pay for the rights. That was back before the Internet mattered. So when NBC would clear rights to a song they would clear it for broadcast and for reruns, but not for the Internet.

SAMBERG: It actually wasn’t originally called “Dear Sister.” The internet named it.

SCHAFFER: That is true. It was before things got put on the internet right away on SNL. We didn’t get to name it ourselves. We called it “The Shooting” all week and it was called that in the SNL rundown. But then because it wasn’t posted by anybody at NBC, it was only posted by fans and one of them just called it “Dear Sister” and that stuck to the point where we started calling it that as well.

TACCONE: There are a lot of copycat videos, which is cool. Homage videos on YouTube. People do it with other movies and they would make their own and stuff, which is awesome.

SAMBERG: It’s pretty great. There’s Platoon, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Harry Potter. All these moments where somebody gets killed, where you don’t see a gun.

SCHAFFER: Did somebody do it with Kylo Ren killing Han Solo?

SAMBERG: Oh my god. That’s a perfect one. Also, spoiler alert!

SCHAFFER: [Looking up the video] That’s not a real YouTube view count on the sketch at all. Look at the date I put that up compared to when it came out. That view count would be much, much higher had that been posted at the time. This was me a few years ago realizing that, “Oh, it’s nowhere online.” So I just went and grabbed it and threw it on our YouTube channel just to have it up somewhere. So that 14 million is what it got this far after it’s popularity. But I guess that is a testament that people are still looking it up if it got that many since the last three years.

For the Good Times - Bruce Wayne x Reader

My stomach churned as I pressed the button that would take me to the penthouse, Bruce’s penthouse. I wished the lift was slower so I could have longer to collect my thoughts and tame the shaking of my limbs. Weeks had passed since I’d last been here, I was too heartbroken to collect my belongings any sooner, the weight of our separation weighing me down as my brain had tried to convince itself that the relationship wasn’t over and that we’d be okay. The harsh reality of the situation was the Bruce had ended our time as a couple and Alfred had called to say I could collect my things, making the decision for me.

The door dinged open, revealing Bruce’s gorgeous apartment. The warm light of summer cast the room into a soft glow of soothing shades. Upon hearing the doors open, Alfred approached me, opening his arms as a form of greeting. I wrapped my arms around the butler, grateful of the comfort he was providing.
“Good afternoon, Miss (y/n)” His smile was warm but I could still detect the pity in his eyes.
“Hi Alfred, how have you been?” My words were overly cheerful trying to hide the fact that just being in the apartment was draining my energy as I tried desperately to keep the memories of Bruce and I at bay.
“Very good, Miss. Busy as always” He let at a soft chuckle before his voice took on a more remorseful tone “Master Bruce wouldn’t let me touch anything, just said that you could take whatever you wanted”
I smiled bitterly, the only thing I wanted wasn’t in the apartment, it was at Wayne Enterprises pretending to earn a living. But I nodded my head politely and uttered a thank you before turning to walk towards the bedroom we’d once shared.

I cautiously opened the door with trembling fingers, flashes of mornings spent wrapped in each other’s embrace and nights spent talking about anything and everything flooded my mind. My eyes squeezed shut as I left out a shuddering breath. Forcing my feet to move forward, I picked up the bag Alfred had set out on the bed and began to pack my clothes up. I knelt down by the dresser, carefully pulling a draw open. There were more clothes than I’d expected, a wave of pain crashing into my chest as I realised how much time I’d spent here and how it had all gone to waste. I was emptying the draw Bruce had given to me, a small smile cracking the pained expression on my face when I remembered how nervous he’d been about it.

“Baby, have you seen the shirt I left here last week?”
Bruce emerged from the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth and only a towel covering his sculpted waist. He slowly removed the toothbrush before rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the floor. For once in his life Bruce Wayne looked nervous.
“It’s-uh-its in the middle draw”
I raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his odd behaviour.
“Why’s it in a draw, I always leave my clothes on the chair in the corner?”
Bruce’s bare feet shifted on the floor, his hand returning to his neck.
“I just thought-uh-y'know you stay here a lot and leave a lot of stuff so you should-uh-should have a draw”
A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth, warmth spreading across my body. Before Bruce could react I’d wrapped my arms around his shoulders, gently pulling his head down, our lips connecting. I whispered a thank you, our lips brushing. He tried to pull me closer only for me to jump away from him.
“Eww, you’re all wet!”
He chuckled darkly, a mischievous look flashing in his eyes before he began to chase me around the room….

My vision turned misty, the happy memories causing the knot in my stomach to pull tighter. When I reached for another piece of clothing my hands pulled out an old faded t-shirt. The fabric was soft and thin from age but that didn’t stop it from feeling as warm as a hug when I’d worn it. It was Bruce’s, making it big enough to swallow my shoulders and cover half of my thighs. He used to pretend to get angry when I stole his shirts but when he’s given me the draw there was a pile of them neatly tucked into the corner. I resisted the temptation to lift the top to my nose, craving Bruce’s comforting scent that never failed to make me feel safe and protected. I knew it would be wrong to take them, despite my desperation to, I reluctantly closed the draw, replacing the t-shirt, leaving the rest of them untouched.

Rising from my knees I surveyed the top of the dresser. I was shocked to discover he hadn’t thrown away the pictures of us, I figured it was only a matter of time before they would be discarded and replace by photos of some one new. I gingerly picked up my favourite, debating whether or not to take it. We were smiling in the picture, our noses red from the cold. We’d been ice skating when Bruce had decided it was the perfect time for a photo. My cheeks had been sore from laughing at my clumsy movements on the skates when he’d pulled me to his side, placing his smiling lips to my hairline before taking the picture. With tears slowly making their way down my face I placed the photo in the bag, deciding it wouldn’t be missed by Bruce.

My eyes scanned the room one last time, having collected my toiletries and other possessions that were littered around the bedroom. They landed on the small record player that was settled next to the chair in the corner. I only had a few records whereas Alfred had taught Bruce to love them dearly. My feet carried me to the player before I could stop them. My heart stopped once I recognised the record sat in the player, it was one of mine. I started the record, “For the Good Times” by Al Green filling the room with soft but sorrowful music. I retreated to the chair, my legs unable to support myself as sobs racked my body.

“Why are we listening to this?” Bruce’s tone clearly displayed his displeasure about my choice of music.
“Because it’s beautiful”
“It’s depressing, just listen to the words” His annoyance only served to amuse me.
“That’s what makes it beautiful, he’s expressing his heartbreak and desperation”
Bruce scoffed “What part of that isn’t depressing?”
“Oh shut up and come here”
He slowly rose to his feet, shaking his head stubbornly when I attempted to get him to dance with him. I kept my arms wrapped securely wrapped around his neck, pushing out my bottom lip.
“No” He tried to appear stern but there was laughter evident in his tone.
“Pleease” He shook his head again, laughter shaking his shoulders. I pushed onto my tiptoes, placing soft kisses over his jaw and face, muttering pleases in between. I smiled triumphantly as I felt his arms snake around my waist and his strong body begin to guide us around the room.
“Okay” His voice was scarcely more than a whisper as he buried his head in my neck. We danced until the song came to an end, Bruce slowly raised his head. Love arranging his features into an adoring smile.
“You have me wrapped around your little finger” He joked.
I beamed at him, my expression mirroring his….

“(Y/n)?” The question was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. My head shot up, my eyes were met by Bruce’s. His eyes were watery and surrounded by dark circles, his tired body frozen in the doorframe. I abruptly rose to my feet, frantically trying to wipe the tears from my eyes.
“Bruce-hi…I-uh-came to get my stuff. Sorry, I didn’t m-mean to take so long” My voice shook with pain.
He cleared his throat, trying to reduce its sudden tightness.
“S'okay..I came back early, ran out of work to pretend to do” He attempt to smile at his words but it transformed into a pained grimace when he saw the bag at my feet.
“(Y/n)-” He couldn’t finish his sentence, his constricted throat not allowing it.
“I-I should go-”
“No-please! Stay, just for a little while?”
My body started to shake from exhaustion and the pain that was torturing my limbs.
“Bruce, I can’t”
“Yes you can, baby, please” He choked out.
My eyes snapped to his at the pet name, a blush flooded his checks when he realised his mistake. I was stuck in place, trying not to notice the agony in his eyes and the way his body was quivering.
“(Y/n)-I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Do you need help with anything?”
A sad smile graced my face, I shook my head, unable to bare Bruce’s kindness. My fingers wrapped around the handle, tenderly picking up the bag before moving towards the door.
I’d almost made it when Bruce put his arm out to stop me. His eyes were squeezed shut as a sob erupted from his chest.
“Please-just for a moment, pretend that you love me and-and just stay with me”
My heart shattered, seeing Bruce in pain only served to increase mine. I gently wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and pressed my face into his chest. His warm scent coaxed me into a sense of safely and comfort. His arms held my waist so tightly it was almost painful. I raised my head to his, our lips pressing together in a desperate and pain filled kiss. Both of us trying to hold onto the remains of our relationship.
“I would never have to pretend, Bruce”
His body trembled against mine, unable to hide his torment.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean”
Bruce groaned, separating himself from me.
“I mean it Bruce”
“ hate me, you said you didn’t want to be near me anymore” It was then I realised how much my angered words had affected him, he didn’t see that they were just impulsive words filled with rage, not my true feelings. His fear of isolation had only fuelled his insecurities.
“Bruce, baby, I didn’t mean it. You know that, I was just angry that you wanted to end us over something as stupid as a forgotten date” My voice had taken on a pleading tone, I was desperate for him to see the truth in my words. His eyes met mine, a glimmer of hope shinning through the sadness.
“I was scared, when you forgot about the date-I’d received threats on your life and when you didn’t show-” He was barely able to continue “I thought something had happened and then I was so scared..I thought the only way I could keep you safe was by distancing myself from you” He rubbed his neck before continuing.
“Which seems really stupid now. God, (y/n) I’m so sorry, please can we go back to how we were?”
I released a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, all of the pain seeped out of my body being replaced by happiness because the man I loved still loved me back. I knew I should be angry but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“I love you, you idiot” His head shot up, his eyes met by my beaming smile.
“I love you too” Though his eyes still looked tired his body was relieved from the guilt he’d been carrying, becoming relaxed.
“Good, now you can unpack my stuff for me” A smirk settled on my face as I watched his form into an expression of shock. We both began to laugh as we embraced each other, happy to be back in each other’s arms.

Farkle x Reader

Originally posted by duhriarkle

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Character: Farkle Minkus

Request:  Can you do a Farkle one shot where you’re together and you start to feel like you can’t compare to Riley and Maya (you feel insecure)so you start to distance yourself from everyone. Please

Requested by: anonymous 

Word Count: 1,748

* season 3 spoiler alert *


     “ Why must Ms.Garcia torture us like this?” Maya whined. It was the beginning of your sophomore year and your new math teacher Ms.Garcia already gave you guys math homework. Even though it was barely your second week in. 

     You all had met up at Topanga’s to do your homework, except for Lucas and Zay who had football practice today. A daily routine you all participated in. It was all still a bit relatively new to you. You had moved to New York last year almost at the end of freshman year. Seeing as you were new and not really fitting in, Riley and Maya had introduced you to everyone and they accepted you into their group. You were extremely happy to make such great friends. You all hung out over the summer and something sparked between you and Farkle. You guys have been dating for a few weeks now. It was great and all, but there had been something bothering you for a couple of days now. Farkle was starting to notice. 

     “ Farkle, you love me right?” Maya asked Farkle in a sing song voice. Your heart dropped slightly. Farkle, Maya, and Riley always had little interactions like that. Little interactions that could only happen if you had known a person for so long. You were a bit jealous of their history. A little part of you wished you had known Farkle for that long. 

     “ Of course I do, Maya. Always. But I am not going to give you the answers to the homework.” Farkle told her as she whined again. “ It’s okay, Peaches. We’ll get through this. We always do.” Riley encouraged Maya. Maya agreed and they worked out the problems together. 

     You were stuck on problem number four and Farkle was taking you step by step on how to get through it. He was so kind to you. He was funny when you needed cheering up, kind when you needed help, and a shoulder to cry on when you were feeling down. He was perfect and always there for you no matter what. It always made you wonder why he wanted you. You didn’t feel anywhere as special as he was to you. Were you special to him? Were you just as special as Riley and Maya? 

     “ Hey Y/N. Have you picked out your dress for homecoming yet?” Riley asked you. You looked up and shook your head with a small smile,” I’m still choosing between two dresses. Farkle and I are matching with purple and I have two purple dresses at home that would be perfect. I just have to make up my mind.” You answered her question. She smiled,” Well I think you both are going to look great.” she complemented you both as Farkle grabbed your hand and kissed your forehead. “ Yeah, we will.” 

     “ What about you and Lucas? Did you find your dress yet?” You asked Riley. She shook her head,” No, we agreed on green, but that’s about it. I haven’t really found a dress that looks good on me.” Riley stated. “ Don’t worry, Riley. You’ll look great no matter what you wear.” Farkle encouraged Riley. 

    Your heart sunk again. You weren’t sure why. All you knew is that you wanted to leave Topanga’s, so you quickly texted your old friend from Chicago to call you. You needed to get out of there. She called you not even seconds later. 

     “ Hey. Yeah. Oh, okay. I’ll be there soon. Bye.” You answered the call and had a small fake conversation with your friend. “ Sorry guys, that was my mom. She needs me to go back home. I’ll see you guys at school.” You told them as you packed your stuff into your backpack. Farkle stood up,” I’ll walk you home.” He suggested, but you shook your head. “ No, its okay. I actually want to walk alone. I need to clear my head.” You told him. He nodded respecting your decision, but he couldn’t help being bothered by your strange actions. Even Riley and Maya were concerned. You always walked home with Farkle. It was the first day he wouldn’t walk you. 

     “ Call me later, okay?” Farkle told you. You nodded and hugged him before leaving Topanga’s and walking home. The whole way there you were talking to your friend on the phone. You told her what you were feeling and she concluded you were feeling insecure. But could she blame you? You were up against Riley and Maya. They were beautiful and had amazing personalities. You just felt like you couldn’t compare.

     The next day you decided to stay home. Your stomach was feeling upset and your chest hurt from the tears you shed last night. Farkle had called you almost a thousand times, but you shut off your phone after the fifth call. He was worried that something was wrong. He hated knowing you weren’t okay and not being able to do anything about it. 

     He went to your house that afternoon and brought you the work you had missed that day, but you refused to see him. Your mom collected your homework from him and made sure he didn’t step into your house. He felt a little hurt. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. He thought you were mad at him. 

     After two days your mom made you go back to school, but to the gang it was like you hadn’t come back. You avoided them at all costs. You barely had any classes with them, but the ones that you did you made sure to act like you couldn’t hear them or you just passed the time at the nurses office. The one you avoided the most was Farkle. You just didn’t know how to face him. What to say. This went on for a whole week before the gang decided to intervene. 

     You walked home by yourself again and entered your room without noticing who was in there. You put down your backpack and as you turned around you saw everyone. Farkle, Riley, Maya, Lucas, and Zay were all sitting on your bed. Before you could say anything Zay spoke up,” This is for your own good.” You frowned not knowing what that meant. 

     Everyone, excluding Farkle, ran out the room and slammed it closed. You ran to it and tried opening it, but they were holding it closed. This was it. You finally had to have the conversation you were trying to avoid this whole week. But if you were being completely honest, you were kind of happy that they showed that they cared. 

    You turned around and faced Farkle and immediately felt a rush of guilt go through you once you saw the heartbroken look on his face. “ Farkle I-” he cut you off. “ Don’t apologize. I did something wrong, didn’t I? You’ve been avoiding me at school and you haven’t answered any of my calls or texts. I’ve been running our conversations through my head and I don’t remember what I did wrong. What did I do?” Farkle asked you. You felt so guilty. Farkle had probably been beating himself up thinking he had hurt you. He didn’t know it was just your self esteem beating you up. 

     “ Farkle, you haven’t done anything. I’ve just been going through a lot. I told you there was a family emergency and-” you tried explaining, but Farkle cut you off again. “ Y/N, I know your mom didn’t call you last time. Unless your mom’s name is BFF, she didn’t call you. What’s really going on?” He asked you while standing up, grabbing your hands, and sitting you on your bed with him. You weren’t sure how to tell him, but maybe after you did you would feel better.

     “ Farkle, you seriously haven’t done anything. It’s just my mind making me feel this way.” You told him. He frowned confused,” Feel what way?” he asked you. You sighed as a tear slipped from your face. He wiped it away with his thumb waiting on your response. “ Insecure. I just don’t understand why you’re with me. I’m not as bubbly and cheerful as Riley. I’m not as talented or confident as Maya. I’m not as pretty as either of them. I don’t know you like they do. So why be with me? I’m not like them. I’m not special.” You vented out your feelings and felt a weight come off of your shoulders. It was good to have your feelings out there. Now you were just worried how Farkle would respond.

    “ You say I haven’t done anything, but I have. I haven’t told you how beautiful you are. I haven’t told you how much you mean to me. Of course you’re not Riley or Maya, that’s why I like you. There’s so much I still need to get to know about you. Maya and Riley are great, but I’m not dating them, I’m with you. They’re like sisters to me. I’m sorry if i haven’t been making you feel as special as you are to me. I really like you. You’re funny, sweet, and I love that you don’t care what people say about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. But anytime you feel like this I need you to tell me. You’re my girlfriend. I want to be there for you no matter what.” He told you. You two hugged as he rested his chin on your head and you rested your head on his chest. You felt so much better now that you two had talked about it. 

     “ Thank you, Farkle. I’m sorry for avoiding you and not talking to you sooner.” You apologized. He shook his head,” Don’t be. Let’s just forget this ever happened and move on. You missed a few days so you must be drowning in homework. You need any help?” He asked you. You grabbed your backpack and showed him all the work you still had to do. “ Let’s get started.” He said picking up your Biology textbook and opening up to last night’s homework page.

     You two laid there for another couple of hours just talking, studying, and watching movies. The rest of the gang left and gave you two privacy. You enjoyed laying there with him knowing just how much you mean to him. You hoped to show him just how much he meant to you as well.

Now he makes sure to tell you everyday how special you are to him…


hope you liked it! :)


requests are open

Aqours learning/playing musical instruments HCs


  • She has no idea what instrument to pick up at first.
  • No. Idea.
  • She thinks Riko’s a totally amazing pianist (“like an angel!!”), so she asks Riko to help her learn it. Riko is dubious but happy to teach her, and is secretly overjoyed about having a student.
  • Chika quickly learns that piano is just…not for her. It hurts her brains and her back and her hands, and it just doesn’t suit her, you know??
  • Riko encourages her to try and pick up a new instrument, so she settles on learning to play the trumpet!
  • She doesn’t think it’ll work out, honestly, but as always, Chika puts 100% of her enthusiasm into it and tries to practice every day.
  • It’s hard, but she doesn’t even think of quitting. 
  • Eventually, the trumpet grows on her, and she loves it to bits!


  • You chooses drums! She’s always wanted to have a go at it, and she’s incredibly happy to finally have an opportunity!
  • Her schedule is literally packed, but she tries to get in an hour of practice every week nonetheless.
  • It’s a little hard for You to stay in a consistent beat as she tends to accidentally fasten her pace a lot, so she searches up videos on YouTube to help her.
  • Ruby and Chika also struggle with tempo issues, so whenever they have time after a CYaRon! practice session, they all go to You’s house and play their instruments together in time with a YouTube video.
  • It sounds terrible honestly (You’s mother always makes sure to give her a dirty look after) but hey, it’s fun, and they’re practicing. Two birds with one stone!


  • She plays both her viola and her piano, but primarily the latter. She is far more superior in her piano playing, but she does dedicate time to her viola, of course! It’s just that she simply prefers the piano as an instrument in general.
  • Sometimes, she likes to gently run her fingers over the keys and creating aimless melodies – which is how most of her songs are made.
  • The other Aqours members have always known that Riko’s an amazing musician, but once they all pick up an instrument, they are stunned.
  • Music is hard.
  • They all try to be extra nice to Riko after that (although at one point, Mari offers to do a ‘kabedon’ for her. She laughs at Riko’s blush-glare), and while this does make her a little uncomfortable, she is happy! Composing songs really is hard, so she’s glad her efforts are being noticed, even if their appreciation is being shown in…questionable ways.
  • Chika and You pitch the idea of naming all three of their instruments ‘Mermaid’ one day after school. She’s super confused and asks why; turns out they wanted to make a heritage to the 'Three Mermaids’. 
  • She chases them all the way to her house.


  • She is definitely excited to learn an instrument, but also very scared, poor baby. She thinks she’ll be terrible at it, and when she confesses this to the rest of her group, they’re dismayed.
  • Dia sends a warning glare to everyone around the table, but, how could anyone make fun of her?? They all reassure her that it’s alright, she won’t be terrible, and that they’re all learning together! It’s okay!
  • Ruby is considerably more relieved after hearing this, although she is still a little worried. Riko offers to tutor her, and Ruby gratefully accepts the offer; Riko’s both a patient and understanding teacher – just what Ruby needs!
  • She isn’t sure what instrument she’d like to play. She thinks that woodwind instruments would stress her out, but she might have a go at a strings instrument, maybe? 
  • She eventually settles on a keyboard!
  • She likes it a lot! Despite her nervousness, she is a very quick learner. Ruby personally doesn’t find the keyboard as a daunting instrument, so it’s perfect! She practices every day!


  • Hanamaru is a bit anxious too.
  • She’s clumsy isn’t she? And her only musical strong point is her singing – choir singing. Will she really be okay??
  • She asks Dia and Kanan about this at an AZALEA practice. They’re naturally understanding and sympathetic. 
  • Dia assures her that neither her nor Kanan are particularly musical either, and that in fact, Hanamaru’s the most experienced with music out of the three. 
  • They all decide to practice together and help each other out!
  • Kanan pitches the idea of her learning the cello, and Hanamaru hesitantly agrees.
  • It takes her a while to relax into her cello (it absolutely squashes the poor girl when she carries it on her back), but she likes it!
  • Playing the cello is nice, but she especially likes the theory of music, she quickly finds out. She picks up on reading clefs fairly easily. Hanamaru’s also great with words, so she hopes she’ll be able to independently write some songs for Aqours someday!


  • Yoshiko is honestly the only one not into the idea.
  • Music? Why does Yoshiko have to learn that?
  • It’s not that she doesn’t want to, per se, she just doesn’t really see the point. It seems like more of a headache than something fun.
  • She complains about this at first, but quickly stops when she sees Riko’s twitching eyes.
  • Bad sign, bad sign–!
  • She does learn an instrument though, for the sake of her friends. 
  • She’s stuck between the flute and the violin. Yoshiko uses a coin to decide on which one she learns, and as the coin lands on heads, she picks up the violin.
  • And man, she absolutely kills it!
  • Riko is, understandably, very upset. Why wasn’t she that good when she started the viola?!
  • Yoshiko does end up enjoying the violin a little. She’s still not completely into it, but it’s admittedly more fun than she had thought.
  • That, and she’s secretly elated to find something she’s talented at, although she doubts playing the violin will be anything more than a small hobby for her.


  • Dia wants to learn the flute at first. It’s a beautiful and elegant instrument, just like her!
  • She would have been playing it if Mari hadn’t opened her stupid mouth and baited her into playing the bass guitar!
  • It’s not that Dia dislikes basses. They’re very beautiful instruments in their own right. Yet, she had wanted to play the flute, and now she was stuck with a bass guitar–!
  • She does warm up to the instrument faster than she expects. Dia ends up being quite fond of the bass guitar, both for its rich tone and supporting role in a band.
  • However, she doesn’t have a lot of time to practice it due to how busy she is with studies and student council president duties. She primarily practices in AZALEA sessions, although Dia’s slightly embarrassed of playing in front of her friends, no matter how comfortable she may be with them.
  • All of the AZALEA members also read in bass clef! They meet up a lot to learn some of the theory together, Hanamaru mostly acting as the teacher figure. Dia doesn’t really need to learn it, seeing as how she reads her notes in TAB anyway, but she figures that any extra knowledge wouldn’t hurt, and that it may come in handy in the future. 
  • Besides, being with Hanamaru and Kanan is always fun for her.
  • One day though, she will learn the flute, she swears.


  • She learns the electric guitar!
  • Mari did actually get quite a bit of practice in America because her father used to send her to a private guitar tutor. It has been a while though, and she definitely wants to improve!
  • She is so excited, oh my god. She wants to become a pro.
  • She is extremely disappointed that only she and You are interested in learning one of the more…'rock'ier instruments. 
  • Kanan has to stop her from buying a million dollar amplifier. She’s pretty sure Mari would go to prison for public disturbance.
  • Mari doesn’t like learning things from books; she’s much better at improvising! Riko sometimes comes to her huge house to jam out and find inspiration for Guilty Kiss songs. 
  • In fact, Riko eventually lets Mari handle the guitar solos!
  • She really, really loves her guitar.
  • She sometimes buys metal and rock concert tickets for her and You to find 'creativity’ and 'inspiration’ at. Dia came once, but was totally not into it, complaining that her eardrums were broken. 
  • You and Mari are totally into it. Sometimes they meet up just to geek out about these various obscure bands. 
  • Everyone thinks it’s weird as hell.


  • Kanan’s not really into playing music, honestly, but unlike Yoshiko, she’s more than happy to give it a try!
  • She admires Riko a lot, and finds it amazing that she can push out so many songs. She has a lot of respect for music even though she’s not a particularly musical person.
  • Kanan wants to learn an instrument that isn’t very popular; she decides on a euphonium!
  • She’s delighted to hear that all of AZALEA play primarily in bass clef.
  • That’s awesome!!
  • She’s usually the one who arranges the instrument meet ups between them.
  • Kanan has a lot on her plate so, like You, she doesn’t have a lot of time to practice. She tries her best though, and when she does get to practice, she practices hard.
  • Luckily for her, she’s already great at breathing techniques due to how much she swims and dives! The euphonium comes fairly easily to her technique wise, and it’s the reading bit that she struggles most on, so she likes to annotate her song sheets with the note names. 
  • All in all, she thinks it’s pretty fun!
Security Check

Yoongi X Reader (Fluff)

Yoongi has never been a fan of the airport, especially when it comes to novice travelers holding up the security line. But when he sets of the security scanner himself, your little vacation takes a turn for the unexpected before you can even reach your destination.

A/N so I found the first ¾ of this written and saved on my desktop way back from, like, early 2015. Turns out I was, am, and forever will be absolute Yoongi trash yikes. Forgive the typos as always.

Keep reading

Songbird (Avengers x Reader, slight Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: Okay. I write stuff too but I dont post them and I’m having trouble to do this; “H-how long have you been standing there?” (Reader sings and dances with headphones in bc he/she thought they were alone, until they turn around to find the team standing there and witnessing their glorious moment of singing to a wooden spoon at the top of their lungs). This scenario has been stuck in my head for a month and someone needs to do it 🙈🙏🏻 good luck! I hope to read it 😘😘

Requested By: @thatgirlsar

Word Count: 1,438

Warnings: Um, none? I mean unless you count embarrassing situations…

A/N: Hi!!! So sorry I haven’t posted in forever, and so sorry that it took me so long to do this request! I absolutely loved writing this and it was so much fun for me! I included a bit of Steve x Reader even though the request didn’t ask for it. I don’t know, I thought it just helped everything flow better. Also I threw in a bit of Kelly Clarkson in there because I was once obsessed with her and her music never fails to put me in a good mood. Requests are closed right now but if you would like to be added to my tag list, just send in an ask saying that you want to be added and you will be added! Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and FYI: (Y/F/S) means ‘your favorite song.’

Tag List: @mp938368 @gcneral-organa


Originally posted by life-is-onee

Ah, what a beautiful day…

You thought as you woke up that morning as the warm morning sunshine warmed you up, leaving you feeling absolutely blissful in your mound of blankets. Today was your one day off in what seemed like forever. Practically being the Avengers’ babysitter- ahem, manager- took a lot out of you each and every day.

You have been in this position for what has seemed like a millennia, but in reality it has only been two years. While those two years were amazing, they were also very frustrating as you constantly babysat- managed- the whole team. From picking up a drunk Tony from a club to even going on a morning jog with Steve so he isn’t alone; your job covered pretty much every aspect of their lives. 

You woke up in the morning and made each and every one of them breakfast while Nat kept busy by practically interrogating you as she tried to set you up with someone. Later on in the day, you made sure each of them went to training and ate healthy. At night, you would help them figure out their mission assignments and even hold some as they went to sleep in fear of nightmares. 

Yes, your job was pretty much a glorified nanny, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except today, you tell yourself as you sit up in bed. Today is my day.

Sighing out as you stretch, you can feel your muscles relaxing. Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you begin to walk around your room in search of some comfy clothes. Finding the perfect pair of yoga pants, you slip them on as you grab an old band t-shirt. Figuring it will be cold, you grab Steve’s hoodie that you stole a couple of days ago. Pulling the warm material over your head, you revel in its scent and the way it engulfs your body. 

Its going to be a good day, you tell yourself as you grab your phone and headphones. Plugging the earbuds in and turning on a song, you happily make your way to the kitchen as you hum along to the tune. 

Smiling as you enter the kitchen, you find that it is completely empty. This just adds to the beginning of your perfect day as you realize that you can make breakfast all for yourself. As the song ends and a new one begins, you begin to pull out all of the ingredients needed for your signature pancakes. Deciding to treat yourself a bit, your grab some fruit from the fridge as well planning to make yourself a smoothie as the pancakes cook.

Soon the familiar beat of (Y/F/S) fills your ears as you begin to mix in the ingredients. Smiling to yourself, you can feel the giddiness rise within you as the song plays out.

Casting a careful glance over your shoulder, a small smile appears on your lips as you find yourself alone. Taking this as your chance, you soon begin to dance around the room, sliding on the wood floor in your fuzzy socks as you ladle batter onto the griddle. 

The aroma of the pancakes cooking makes your giddiness-levels rise as you soon find yourself singing into the wooden spoon in your hand.

It is a good day.

The Avengers, one floor below your amazing rendition, sat clumped around some measly bowls of cereal. 

“I miss (Y/N)’s cooking…” Tony grumbled out as he moved his spoon around in his soggy cereal. 

“Yes, Lady (Y/N)’s food is amazing…” Thor reminisces as he takes a feeble bite out of his Pop-Tart. While he does love his Pop-Tarts, it is no match for your cooking.

Sighing, Steve looked over his dismal team. “Yes, I miss it too. But its her day off, she deserves it more than anyone.”

“While I agree that to be wholeheartedly true,” Sam begins as he took a bite out of his bagel. “I do miss her cooking.”

“Ach. Do all you boys just think about your stomach?” Nat questions as she looks over the group. “(Y/N) deserves a day off.”

“She does,” Wanda nods along as she agrees with Nat. The group soon fell quiet as they continued to eat their less-than sublime breakfast. 

“Hey, do you guys smell that?” Clint asks, breaking the silence. The group paused as they sniffed the air, trying to distinguish what this new heavenly smell was. 

“Yeah, smells like-” Bruce starts, but is soon cut off.

“(Y/N)’s pancakes,” Bucky finishes. Slowly, every pair of eyes drifted upwards to where the heavenly smell was coming from. The silence was abruptly ended by a monstrous stomach growling. The group, shocked, looked over to where Wanda was as she sheepishly held her ravenous stomach.

“You don’t think (Y/N) would mind if we just went up and had, like, one pancake, right?” Steve shyly asked as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“I don’t think she would mind a bit,” Tony added.

“Nope, not one bit,” Sam finished as he held his own growling stomach. 

Silence followed as the group paused and looked at each other, wondering if they were really going to do this. As a collective unit, the entire team got to their feet as they hurriedly shuffled to the elevator which would soon bring them to your wonderful cooking.

Unaware of the elevator doors opening, you continued your dramatic rendition of ‘My Life Would Suck Without You’ by Kelly Clarkson as if the love of your life was right in front of you.

Totally into the song, you hopped up onto the island counter as you continued to belt out the lyrics.

The team, completely shocked, stood there watching you. Their eyes followed your every move as you danced on that counter as if your life depended on it. They listened to you belt out the lyrics as if you were performing to thousands. 

Soon, you would be as Tony grabbed his phone and pressed record. Nat, seeing the devious smile on his face, widened her eyes.

“TONY!” She shouted as she snatched the phone out of his hands. Unaware of what she just did, she continued to yell at Tony. The rest of the team stared at her with shock- and with fear- as you had just found out that you had an audience.

Eyes wide full of fear and embarrassment, you looked down at the team assembled before you, still holding the wooden spoon in your hand.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” You weakly mutter out, frozen to your spot on the counter. 

“Since the beginning of the song…” Wanda mumbled out. Eyes growing even bigger, you begin to feel a rush of heat travel through your body in embarrassment. 

Sensing the tense and awkward situation, Steve, your knight in shining armor, stepped in. 

“Hey, um, lets all just go to the diner down the street for breakfast, okay?” Mumbles of agreement soon filled the room as the team left one-by-one to grab their jackets to trek out into the freezing weather. 

Still shocked, you stayed frozen in your spot until Steve walked up to you.

“C’mon, go grab your coat,” He said as he helped you down from the counter. 

Confused, you look at him. “But I made breakfast here-”

“I think your breakfast got a little burnt,” Steve says as he motions towards the black rock of batter that was once your delicious fluffy pancake. Sighing sadly, you turn off the stove top as you walked back to your room to grab your coat with Steve.

“Thanks for helping me out of that awkward situation,” You mumbled out, still mortified at what happened.

“No problem,” Steve says as he helped you into your coat. “I know how embarrassing it can be to perform to an unexpected crowd. Trust me.”

Laughing at his recollection of the glory-days filled with tights, you nodded your head. “Still, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve responds with a smile. Walking down to the van filled with the Avengers, you feel your and Steve’s arms touch slightly. “Besides, I loved your impersonation of Kelly Clarkson.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you looked in awe at Steve. “You know Kelly Clarkson?”

Rolling his eyes playfully at your comment, he nods. “Well, yeah. I’m 96, I’m not dead.”

Laughing at his reply, you grab onto his arm. “C’mon, Gramps. Its my only day off and I’d love to eat something that isn’t burnt with my best friends.”

Shrugging off the nickname, Steve opens the van door to find the team once again bickering. “You got it, Songbird.”

but then it all turned around (g.d.)

~WOAH ANOTHER POST?? hyfr another post!! And would ya look at that, ANOTHER imagine based on a song by The Maine and ANOTHER imagine featuring Gray. This is obviously different from what I’ve done in the past (spoiler: no it’s not). Regardless, I hope y’all are doing well, and enjoy this lil blurb. All jokes aside, I think it’s important that we all address our demons sometimes. I hope you’ll find comfort in this as I did. Love y’all so much. xx


***WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety (If you are easily triggered by descriptions of anxiety, please do not read. I have plenty of other material in my masterlist you would enjoy much more. xx )

SONGS: “Lonely” and “Taxi” by The Maine

I remember feeling weightless in the deeper end,

And drowning in the fear again.

And the lovely little loneliness would hold me down

Under the sound of being found.

But then it all turned around…

Debilitating would be the word I would use to describe this feeling. Thought after thought, neuron after neuron firing without any sign of slowing. It was deafening. I couldn’t hear the outside world. The only thing I could focus on was the racing of my heart beat, the pounding of my frontal lobe, the strain of my eyes, and shallowness of my lungs. It felt as if I was thrown into the deep end without warning and my only task was to try to save myself from drowning when all I could focus on were signs of the seemingly inevitable. My anxiety triggered my fears. Those fears would hold me back from grabbing onto a life line. That is, until a familiar, comforting hand took hold of mine and pulled me back up to the surface for air. Then suddenly, I was breathing again.

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Lighthouse Ch. 2 {Bucky Barnes FanFic}

Pairing:       Bucky X BlackOC/Reader (BUT EVERYONE CAN READ)

Rating:        Mature (NSFW)

Warnings:    Angst, Smut, Mentions of Death, Language

Word Count:   1619

A/N:  So I’ve added some fluff and smut to offset the ANGST and heartache from the previous chapter.  Hope this makes up for it!!!  Enjoy!  leave me love and reblog if you like it!  


Originally posted by hauntedbystorytelling

One day when I’m free

Take a ferry ride over and

Be close to me

“You ok?”

She’s been watching Bucky in silence for nearly ten minutes, caught, as she often is, by the beauty of him.  Yes, he’s beautiful and strong and more than just a little broken.  And he’s hers.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed.  Dim swathes of moonlight drift over him.  They cast his slightly hunched form in wavering shadow and soft, blue light.  It glints on his metal arm, winking and dancing inside the warm stillness of her bedroom.  The messy fall of his auburn her obscures his face slightly, but she can imagine the look on it as he stares off into nothing, every line and hard edge as familiar to her as her own.


Familiar is what comes to mind when she thinks about him.  When he’s near.  When she catches sight of the small smile that ghosts across his face, quick as a flash and gone before it’s fully formed.  Familiar, like a song she’s forgotten, and only half-remembers, that swells inside her, mixed up with joy and a strange, shifting sense of nostalgia.

He’d always seemed familiar to her, oddly and inexplicably, from the very moment she’d met him, when he’d been blocking the refreshment table, more specifically the coffee, in back of her little bookstore where she’d allowed some of the locals to run various support groups for the past several years, including her close friend, Sam Wilson.

But, perhaps, it wasn’t him which had been so familiar to her.  Maybe it was the pain he held so close and tight, almost though not completely hidden behind a carefully crafted mask of neutrality.  Of watchfulness and wariness.  A pain he wore like a heavy winter coat and remained draped haphazardly across his broad shoulders.

He sits motionless for a long moment, a perfect statue.  Then he seems to take a breath, pulls the air in deep, filling his lungs before slowly turning his head to look at her.  Her fingers itch to touch him, to rake through his hair and smooth over the scruffy line of his jaw.  To pull him in and circle her arms around his broad frame.  Because he’s familiar to her.  Because he’s home.

His pale blue eyes move over her face, and she watches the shadows behind them shift and begin to fade, if only just a little.  And that makes her happy.

“I’m fine.” he says absently.  His voice, all low and rough and I-just-rolled-out-of-bed, echoes in her chest.  Moves lower where it pulses and throbs in hot bursts in her belly.  His metal arm whirs and clicks softly as his fingers curl in on themselves.

She doesn’t believe him.  He knows it.  She knows that he knows she knows it.  But she simply smiles and moves closer to him.  Curls like a cat around his overly warm body, her stomach against his lower back and her knees pressing gently into his hip.  Props herself up on a bent elbow and stares up at him.  Waits him out, because she knows pushing him will only make him detach.  Pull away.  

She doesn’t want that.  She likes him here and present.  Close.  

The light sparks in his eyes.  She trails the flat of her hand slowly, gently, down the ridges of his ribcage. Kisses the tips of his fingers when he reaches out to cup her cheek in his big hand.

Build a house on a rock

Where the bay meets the sea

Where the dreams of my mother

Are buried like seeds

“How can it work?”

His voice is distant, as if he’s speaking to himself, and she understands now what’s pulled him out of his rare, peaceful slumber.  Tugged him from her embrace.   

It isn’t the dreams this time, remnants of a past from which he isn’t so far removed, and which she’s certain will haunt him for the rest of his many days.  

No.  It’s none of that.   

She shifts again, this time curling herself more tightly around his body, as if she means to protect him, even if it’s from himself.  Gazes up at him through the fringe of her dark lashes.

“Bucky,” she says lowly.  Quietly.  Briefly rests her thin hand on his thick thigh and feels the muscles there jump at her touch.

Over time, old fears have become new ones.  No, the old fears haven’t changed.  They’re still there, though not as close to the surface anymore.

Instead, there’s her.  The passing of time.  A future he can’t see clearly and one he doesn’t believe at all possible.  He, Bucky Barnes, whose life is a testament to the impossible.  

“Bucky,” she says again, and he pulls his hand from her face.  Turns away.  His hair shifts against his cheek and she quickly, if a little clumsily, raises up on her knees next to him.  Brushes the hair from his face and presses a firm kiss against the curve of his flesh shoulder.  

“We’ll love,” she says softly, her tone almost matter-of-fact, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.   “We’ll live.  Maybe have a baby or two for our troubles.”

He makes a rough, disbelieving sound.  There’s more whirring and clicking from his arm,  an oddly comforting sound.  Musical,in its own way.

“I don’t deserve it,” he shoots back.  And she knows he means it.  Can sense the terror rising in him, clawing at him, and it makes her stomach feel hollow and heavy.   Makes it ache with the need to soothe and comfort him.  Wipe away all the pain and the writhing, hungry shadows swirling inside him.

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe you deserve better, sweetheart.  But, I’m what you get.  And, you’re kinda stuck with me now.”  

She leans in, molds her body to his side.   She paints his flesh with love, with the heat and sincerity of her words, pausing a moment to breathe in the warm skin and sparking metal scent of him.  A shiver runs through him when she walks two fingers up the length of his spine.  “I’ll be damned if I let you go, Bucky.”

She kisses his shoulder again.  Drags her lips up and over the taut muscle there.  Feels him beginning to relax against her.  

“If I can help it,” she goes on, “if it’s within my power, I’ll always be with you, Bucky.”

“You can’t promise that,” he replies, even as his metal fingers curl over the back of her neck and he turns his head to brush his lips over hers.

This time it’s she who snorts in disbelief.

“Wanna bet?”

There’s a moment of silence, of settling, of breathing in each other’s air as her words, her promises, move around them.  Then he’s moving, shifting his big body and using it to push her onto her back.   Her arms instinctively close around him, and he slips over her, makes room for himself between her lush thighs.  She feels him, hot and hard already, and releases a long, contented sigh.

His teeth find the soft spot below her chin.  They nip at it and then his tongue is flicking out to soothe the slight sting.  

“I love you,” he murmurs, and it feels just as good as the first time he said - in a back corner of her bookstore, staring down into a cold cup of coffee, the words spilling out as if he’d only just realized it.

She skims her hands up the broad expanse of his back, the skin warm and tight here.  Curls her fingers through his hair and presses a kiss to his temple.

She wants to say it back, but she knows there’s even more he needs in this moment.  “I’ll always be here, Bucky.  As long as I can help it, you’ve got me.”

And I’ll be your lighthouse

I’ll be your lighthouse

He sighs against her skin as he sinks into her, her body always wet and ready, open and welcoming of every piece of him.  Holds himself steady for a moment as her walls flutter and clutch at his cock.  The pleasure winds through her, moves like a hot, electrified wave through her.  It sparks in wavering shades of dark red and swirling blue behind her closed eyelids.

He moves with certainty, with a solid sureness and a quiet desperation, his arms banded behind her back and his mouth claiming hers as he plunges through her slick heat.  Shows her with his body, with each low, shuddering utterance of her name, how much he loves her, needs her, wants to believe all of these things she promises him.

She comes first, panting his name, squeezing him tight within her, clinging to him, her back bowing as the pleasure fill hers near to bursting.

When Bucky comes, it’s quiet, but his fingers dig into her flesh and the low sounds he makes are needy and hungry.  

Afterward, they lay together, allowing the sweat to dry on their skin, and watching the shadows created by the moonlight caught in her thin curtains dancing across the ceiling.  He holds her hand, refuses to let go of it as he absently traces the outline of her engagement ring with his thumb.  It’s quiet and the silence surrounding them now is perfectly empty and, at least for the moment, his fears have been allayed.  

There’s a measure of peace and they’ll take it, enjoy it, wallow in it until the fears rise again.  And then they’ll deal with them in the same way they always have - with promises and whispers and the connection of their flesh beneath the moonlight.

And I’ll be your lighthouse

You’ll be one for me

Tagging: @flowers-and-honey @afro-elf @stellanoble @jazzytee @buckyscurvylover @the-violent-peach @ishipwhateverthefuckiwantto @bethofaus @ursulaismymiddlename @amour-quinn  

let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged, or if I’ve tagged you and you would like to be removed!

“Repay You” [Daveed X Reader]

Prompt: broooooo i love your writing with all my heart!! Could i pretty please request a Daveed fic (lol just pretending he’s still in the cast) with 28 and/or 61 and/or 234? LOVE U ELIZA BABY

28: “do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?

61: “Hey, have you seen the-…oh” 

234: “Meet me on the roof in 10 minutes” 

A/N: I included them all bc I’m trash for Daveed

T/W: it got the teensiest tiniest bit raunchy, mainly fluff

A/U: modern

Words: 2701


Being in the ensemble was tough, like, ridiculously tough. It was essentially non-stop jumps, kicks and spins for two and a half hours, 8 shows a week. The cast and crew of Hamilton were incredible though, and made the pros of the experience outweigh any cons by far. 

It was a two show day, and you were standing just inside the wings of the theatre ready to twirl your way onto the stage for the last song of the show. You bent over and gently kneaded the back of your calf with your fist, trying to stop the dull ache that had been slowly taking over since the Yorktown number. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to pull a muscle or hurt yourself in some way as a dancer, especially when work was this rigorous. It was annoying, nonetheless, but you straightened up and lightly shook your body out before walking out to finish the first show of the two shows. 

The crowd, as always, erupted into a standing ovation as you held hands with Jazzy on one side and Sasha on the other, standing upright up from your last bow and heading off stage. You congratulated everyone on a good show and made your way to your dressing room to stretch, letting one leg extend in front and the other behind, lowing yourself into the split, resting your stomach on your thigh and forehead on your knee. You heard the door creak open from its ajar position before a booming voice floated into the room. 

“Hey, have you seen the - … oh.” You knew it would be Daveed before the door even opened, as he generally changed out of his costume at lightning speed then came to see you. You unfolded from your stretch to see what had taken him aback. 

“Seen what?” You asked nonchalantly, still confused as to why he was staring at you as you stood up. 

“Does that hurt?” He asked, ignoring your question, as he leant against the doorframe, his hand motioning to where you were just on the floor. 

“Ah, no, not really. After the first twelve hundred times of doing it, it kinda loses it’s pain,” you laughed, reaching to let your hair out. 

“It’s still nuts,” he smiled back at you, pushing himself off the doorframe and leaning back to look down the hallway as someone called his name. 

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Hyde Park, London. 1968

“You can’t catch me, Da!” shouted Davie as he ran past me. Jamie snatched him up and tossed him over his shoulder with a playful growl, making our five-year-old son shriek with delight.

The afternoon was warm, almost unbearably so, but there was a slight breeze here in the shade. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. The pressure of the hard, wooden slats of the park bench combined my perspiration adhered the fabric of my sundress to my skin. I peeled the damp cotton away from my lower back, looking out at the idyllic scene in front of me. I smiled to myself, perfectly content. It was a splendid afternoon for a romp in Hyde Park.

Not only was the weather fine, but I also had all twelve of my children together at the same time. The eldest three Frasers, having begun their adventure as independent adults, had come home to celebrate their father’s birthday.

The birthday boy had one son over his shoulder, another with his arms wrapped around his waist, and a daughter clinging to his left leg. He was in his element. Feigning injury, he carefully collapsed to the ground with a dramatic groan. A cheer went up from all of the children, making Jamie laugh.

Out on the pond, the boys were in one boat, the girls in another. Julia and Brianna sat at the oars, younger sisters in the bow, guiding the craft along the peaceful shoreline. Their brothers, on the other hand, were far more interested in the family of frogs living among the reeds and had managed to get themselves stuck for a third time. A loud splash told me Gavin had decided to get out and push the boat free.

I looked down just in time to see two-year-old Neil try to feed a leaf to his sister.

“Babies don’t eat leaves, darling,” I bent, and moved his hand away from Abigail’s face. Trading him the leaf for a toy, I continued, “And neither should you.”

Becoming bored with the shaded tranquility and his infant sister, the towheaded toddler waddled towards the wrestling match on the grass. I picked Abigail up and, draping a cloth over my shoulder, began to feed her.

It was a wonderful experiment in genetics and heredity, I thought: six of our twelve children had Jamie’s red hair and ten inherited his blue eyes. They ranged from average height to tall, unsurprisingly. Alexander, at eighteen, was a solid inch taller than Jamie, and Robert, at fourteen, was showing signs of outgrowing them both. Julia and Maisie had been cursed with my unruly curls, although neither seemed to mind. All twelve managed to simultaneously resemble each other and look completely different.

Jamie had given me a set of Apostles’ spoons when we found out we were expecting Julia. We had joked then about having a child for each spoon, never dreaming that we would someday. My minds eye saw the spoons, nestled safely in blue velvet, and I mentally paired each child with an Apostle as I listened to them the brood chatter and giggle.

St Andrew.

Julia: my first born, child of my heart. At nearly twenty-four, she showed no outward signs of her childhood illnesses. Her auburn curls were vibrant, her skin healthy and lively. She was the same height as me, with rich brown eyes that held great depths of emotion. She preferred to let her sister Brianna take charge when the situation warranted, but was fiercely protective of her eleven younger siblings.

St Peter.

Brianna: the rock on which I stand. So like her father in both looks and temperament, she was the leader of the pack. She was my right hand man, so to speak, in many ways. I missed her terribly while she was away at University and always looked forward to her detailed, weekly letters.

St Matthias.

Alexander Brian: our philosopher and eldest son. Ever the brilliant mind, Alex was following in my medical footsteps. His dark brown hair and clear, blue eyes made him a favorite with the girls at University, but I had it on good authority that he had no time for that sort of thing. Yet.

St Jude.

Janet Helene: our peacemaker and comforter. Jenny, seventeen, was the glue that held our unruly brood together. In her own pragmatic way, she was able to discern what was at the heart of her siblings’ many quarrels and often had the conflict resolved before it came to a head. I’m sure I would have gone insane without her.

St James, the greater.

Robert Ian: my comedienne. Four years younger than knight-in-shining-armor Alex and only twenty months older than troublemaker Gavin, Rabbie was often stuck in the middle. He chose to find the humor in life and could always find a way to make me smile.

St James, the lesser.

Gavin Murtagh: my headstrong instigator. Born right on the heels of his brother Rabbie, he was a sweethearted scalawag from the start. He had good intentions but somehow his plans always went awry.  For example, just last week he got Maisie to help him smuggle home a squirrel in his coat pocket. The poor thing had injured its tail, but before they could carefully confine it, it escaped and spent the next six hours loose in the house.

St John.

Anne Elizabeth: our old soul. Annie was ten going on sixty-nine. She loved nothing more than a good book and a quiet room, something that was hard to find in the Fraser household. Annie loved her siblings with abandon and somehow always knew exactly what was needed in a moment of emotional crisis. She was also my resident baby whisperer.

St Mathew.

Stephen James: our champion. Loyal to a fault, Stephen was a best friend to everyone. He was the encourager of the flock and the only one who could convince Maisie to do something she didn’t want to do, which was often.

St Bartholomew.

Margaret Clara: my spitfire. At six years old, Maisie was something of a character. She could sell ice to the Eskimos and walk away with them thinking it was their idea. Oh, that girl could talk. She had an abundance of auburn ringlets that could never be tamed and a personality to match. Heaven help anyone who stood in her way.

St Simon.

David Michael: our engineer. Everything was new and exciting to Davie. He was constantly taking things apart to see how they worked and seldom managed to get them back together again. He’d learned the hard way not to experiment on any of Maisie’s toys.

St Thomas.

Neil Thomas: the toddler. Almost two and a half years old, we were still discovering new things about Neil’s personality. He still had the chubby cheeks and fine hair of babyhood, but liked to remind us he could do things himself, thank you very much.

St Philip.

Abigail Marie: the baby. It had taken her only a week to have each and every one of us wrapped around her little fingers. She was now six months old and completely spoiled. She had a fake cry down pat, making her siblings run to her in hopes of cheering her up. It was always comical to me to watch her older brothers carry her. Having no hips to speak of, they awkwardly carried her in various positions against their chest or shoulders.

As if she knew I as thinking about her, Abigail stirred against me. I peeked under the cloth to find her smiling up at me, milk spilling from the corner of her mouth.

A perfect dozen of my very own, I thought.

“Are you done, baby girl?” I asked in a sing-song voice. She kicked her arms and legs, cooing, in response.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing pain shot down my arm. I cried out, making Abigail cry with me. Jamie stopped playing with the boys and was instantly by my side.

“What is it, Sassenach?” He asked, looking worried.

“I don’t know,” I answered and tried to brush at my shoulder. “I think I’ve been stung by something.

I pulled my hand away and saw that it was covered in blood. A warm, tickling sensation told me I was bleeding but I had no idea why or how. I stared at my hand, trying to process what on earth was going on.

When I looked up from my hand, I found that we were no longer sitting in a park but standing in the middle of a battlefield.

Jamie pulled me by my good arm and we ran for our very lives. The sounds of mortar shells exploding above us made me go deaf, leaving me with an eerie ringing in my ears. The sun went behind a cloud and I started to shiver with cold.

We were hiding in some sort of bunker now, crouched low against cold bricks. Jamie wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. He said something to me, but I couldn’t understand him.

“What?” I cried out to be heard above the ringing.

His voice was garbled and muddy as he repeated himself.

“I can’t hear you!” I tried again.

A torrential downpour came out of nowhere, leaving us soaked to the skin. I could hear distant thunder rumble over the constant ringing and lightning danced around us. Jamie’s hand was as cold and clammy as I was and I squeezed it, desperately needing his reassurance.

He brushed the wet hair out of my eyes and said, “Are ye awake, Sassenach?”

I blinked at him stupidly. His voice was quiet and yet I could hear him above the roar of the storm and ringing of my ears.

Awake? Of course I was awake, how could someone sleep thru this?

He slowly started to move away from me and I panicked. I tried to grab hold of him, but he kept slipping out of my hands. The water was pushing us apart and I wasn’t strong enough to fight against it.

“Jamie!” I screamed, trying to keep my head above the water.

Something, or someone, was holding me down. I closed my eyes and thrashed and kicked. Shockwaves of pain reverberated with each movement, but I fought against it.

“Claire!” came Jamie’s voice, closer this time. “Wake up!”

I opened my eyes to see the anxious face of my husband two inches from mine, his hand gripping my good shoulder.

In a sudden bolt of clarity, I realized it had all been a dream. Every bit of it.

My body felt hot and heavy as I lay in Jamie’s arms, sobbing and unable to speak.

I wept for what might have been, but could never be. The children we might have created, the love I knew we could give.

I wept for Julia and Brianna, the daughters I had carried within me but would never see again. Never to tell them just once more how much I loved them, never again to hold them in my arms.

I wept for Jamie, who I had lost but to whom I had now returned. The man I had so deeply loved was once again mine until death do us part.

Somehow, in the depths of my heart, I knew he was enough.

Now that I had him by my side, I could begin to live again.
Mmm Whatcha Say You Find Out How Lonely Island's Classic 'Dear Sister' Sketch Came About
People probably remember Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” for one of two things: Either because the track featured prominently in the season 2 finale The O.C., which saw Mischa Barton’s Ma…

People probably remember Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” for one of two things: Either because the track featured prominently in the season 2 finale The O.C., which saw Mischa Barton’s Marissa Cooper shoot her boyfriend Ryan’s older brother, Trey — or because the Lonely Island used the song during an O.C.-inspired Saturday Night Live sketch by the name of “Dear Sister.”

The digital short, which premiered on April 14, 2007 (two years after The O.C. season 2 finale), shows Bill Hader’s character, Keith, get shot by his friend Dave (Andy Samberg), kicking off a chain reaction that sees Keith shoot Dave back, Dave shoot their mutual friend Eric (episode host Shia LaBeouf), all three men shoot Keith’s sister (Kristen Wiig), and both police officers who arrive on the scene shoot each other. And with each resounding gunshot, the Imogen Heap song cues anew. (Watch the short above.)

With 10 years having passed since SNL served its own homage to that now-iconic teen show moment — and the sketch continuing to inspire more parodies — EW caught up with Andy Samberg, Jorma Taccone, and Akiva Schaffer to discuss how the sketch, which O.C. creator Josh Schwartz describes as the “ultimate tribute,” came about.

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Is that a flower crown?

So this is for my dearest @sammyisapuppy, for her Sammy fluff challenge.

Im not the best at this fluffy stuff but I tried and I hope y'all like it or at least tolerate it.

word count: lots 

You heard the bunker door close loudly, no matter how quietly Sam tried to close it it always seemed to echo off the tile walls and wake you, announcing that Sam was back from his run.

This time the door wasn’t what woke you, this morning the moment Sam left you were up and hurrying around the bunker to organise everything for Sam’s birthday. Sam’s birthday was your favourite time of year, you can spoil him recklessly and theres nothing he could do about it. Last year you took him to the aquarium, before that camping and hiking God knows where and before that to Powell’s city of books. This year you’d found the sweetest field of wildflowers and thought you could pack a picnic and just relax in a field all day reading and eating. You packed a little basket of sweet fruits, pastries, cupcakes and lemonade and hid it away in the back seat of your car with a few blankets.

Just as you came back into the library from the garage the door closed and you saw a sweaty Sam making his way down the bunkers metal steps. As he reached the bottom step his face lit up as he saw you, “oh hey… what are you doing up this early?” he said as he wrapped an arm around you and began walking you down the hall towards your room. “well I don’t know if you’ve forgotten but it just happens to be someones birthday” you beamed up at him before breaking away from him just to burst a party popper above his head to rain down on him. He convulsed with laughter as you began quickly kissing every little bit of skin on his face before he trapped your head between his hands and passionately kissed your lips, as you parted you whispered “happy birthday” before you kissed him again. “Go shower you stink” you laughed as you pushed him towards the door, he laughed in response kissing your forehead as he made his way to the bathroom. It constantly amazes you how someone so rough can be so gentle and soft, he deserves a rest, he needs to relax. You looked through the little shared library sam and you had created in your room, purely for fiction, no monsters, no research. You were looking for something Sam hasn’t read yet, but with how busy he’s been with ugly monster research he probably hasn’t had time to even look at good book. As the shower turned off you shoved a handful of books into your bag and sat cross legged on the bed waiting for Sam to come back. At this stage you think you’re more excited for Sams’ birthday than Sam was.

He strolled back into the room in a towel never failing to make you drool, he looked at you again with that sweet little dimpled smirk and pulled on the classic Winchester ensemble, jeans, black tee shirt and your favourite red flannel. He flopped down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down with him, cuddling into his side the soft flannel on your skin never failed to make you feel safe and at home. Before you both fell asleep you got up and pulled him with you “come on lets go out” you said before walking into the bathroom to shove your hair up into twin buns while he put on his shoes. You skipped out go the bathroom and grabbed both of Sams hands and lead him to your car “where are we going sweetheart?” he tried to whisper as you walked through the halls and into the garage, “oh you know thats not how this works” you chuckled as you both got into the car and started driving to the little field you found when you got lost on a case late last year. You gave Sam free reign over the radio, as you both began to talk about nothing and singing to your favourite songs.

The sun shined a gentle haze over the field and the wind swayed through the trees and the flowers as you stopped the car and began to pull the basket and blankets out of the car. As Sam stretched out, no longer cramped in the car he looked towards you and uttered “so whats your plan, kill me? rob me? were in the middle of nowhere” you laughed loudly without any ounce of emotion in your eyes at his little “joke”but this soon turned to genuine laughter as Sam began imitating you really exaggerating you “Ha Ha Ha’s”. You threw the blanket at him and he noticed the little picnic basket you had in your hand as you started walking into the field of wildflowers, but he was right behind you and before you knew it he had taken the picnic basket and wrapped his other hand around your waist as you both negotiated on where to settle down.

You’d settled down and not after long most of the food was gone and you both ended up reading, you where laying in the sun with your head resting on Sams stomach with both your noses stuck in a book. You hardly made it though a chapter before you caught yourself staring up at Sam he looked so relaxed and content in the afternoons sun “Sammy?” you asked quietly, he replied with a soft grunt  and you continued “you look like a prince” you could feel him laugh under you “thanks princess” he said with a smile, you sat up and kissed him once before packing up a little while sam went back to his book.

You sat at his feet picking flowers and weaving them together into a chain. You’d just finished the final flower as Sam sat up behind you and looked over your shoulder “is that a flower crown?” he asked. You turned with a smile and  carefully placed the flowers on his head “for you my prince” you said as you kissed his nose. He smiled in awe and pulled you into is lap as he took a deep breath and began to babble about how how lovely the day had been but then he looked straight in your eyes and said “really Y/N thank you, this has been perfect. I really do love you honey” before you could reply the rest of your plan came into action as the familiar rumble of Deans baby rolled up next to the field. “whats Dean doing here?” Sam asked almost disappointed that you now had company, “don’t worry, I’ll be right back, stay here” you got up and almost ran towards Dean. You got to baby and Dean was more than eager to unload the present that you’d both agreed that Sam deserved. You reached into the car for your hands to be attacked by the tongue of the golden retriever puppy you’d adopted.  Dean waved across the field to his brother laughing at his flower crown before getting back into the impala and driving away again.

Sam was standing when you got back to the blanket and his expression almost mimicked that of the puppy, it was a pure innocent excitement “oh god you didn’t” he said in disbelief as you sat down with Sam and the puppy. “its a girl and she’s all yours, whats her name?” you asked him, you played with the un named little puppy as sam thought of a name. He smiled and looked up while scratching the little dogs tummy “honey”, “yeah” you replied “no honey” he said a little more insistently “what?” you responded he chuckled a little before clarifying “the puppy, we should call her honey”. Deep down you loved the name but you couldn’t help saying “I thought I was your honey” with a fake little pout “aw no you’re my princess” he said in response kissing your forehead again, you laughed a little and whispered “happy birthday, my love”.