this took much longer than i thought it would so i'll make more later

kathwolfie  asked:

I have a whole list of Daichi's pairings for the meme thing so I'll go with just two (if you have time ofc): KuroDai and IwaDai (woah, who would have thought I would go for them right xD)

ALL THE DAICHI SHIPS!!! (I KNOW!! Seriously though, since you’re my MatsuDai enabler, I thought you’re gonna ask for that. This may or may not be taken as an invitation, although I would probably be able to get to that at a later time… but yeah.) 

Anyway, Here’s IwaDai first! :D

who is more likely to hurt the other?

Iwaizumi. Only because he took the pillow fight a little too seriously. (Daichi got his revenge though.)

who is emotionally stronger?

Daichi is emotionally stronger, what with all the responsibility he had placed on his shoulders at a young age.

who is physically stronger?

Iwaizumi is physically stronger, but only by a small margin (at least, that’s what Daichi used to think. He conceded and accepted defeat when Iwaizumi was able to carry him longer, than he was able to carry Iwaizumi. Some things can’t be had… )

who is more likely to break a bone? 

Between the two of them, no one. But others around them? Probably.

who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

Iwaizumi had spent a lot of time sassing his best friend and being sarcastic, that sometimes, he uses it towards Daichi without meaning to. Daichi easily gets upset then, especially at the beginning of their relationship, because he wasn’t used to that side of Iwaizumi yet.

who is most likely to apologise first after an argument? 

They apologize at the same time. Like, they will talk at the same time and fumble until they’re reduced to laughing at themselves, which is a good way to break the ice. The first one to actually say the words though depends on who started the argument.

who treats who’s wounds more often? 

These two don’t actively get hurt, but they do take turns on treating the other. (One time Daichi treated Iwaizumi’s knuckles when he punched a wall, because he really needed to vent his anger. Iwaizumi had to treat Daichi when he sprained an ankle.)

who is in constant need of comfort? 

With them, comfort = cuddles. Cuddle monster = Daichi. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be smothered by those lovely arms?? Iwaizumi is just as much of a cuddler Daichi is so, he’s not one to complain.

who gets more jealous? 

Their friends. They wish they are as much of a #relationshipgoals as these two are.

who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 

Iwaizumi, because he deals best with his anger alone, because he has the tendency to violently vent out his frustrations, so it’s best that no one’s around so as not to hurt anyone (except maybe himself… :( )

who will propose? 

Both are planning to propose but Daichi was able to muster up the courage first, before Iwaizumi did.

who has the most difficult parents?

For the life of Daichi, he can’t stop his mom from embarrassing him in front of Iwaizumi. On a serious note though, no one’s parents were too difficult. They were skeptical at first, but both families have seen how much these two fit each other, they eventually gave their blessings.

who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

It depends on who noticed that people are eyeing the other. Like, they really just hold hands in public, just to show people that this person is with them, and that they’re together so, yeah, you can look but you can also see that I am holding his hand, because he is actually mine. (talk about being possessive…)

who comes up for the other all the time? 

These two had their fair share of coming up for the other. They’re egalitarian like that. They usually do it to surprise the other, because they’re high-key romantic and low-key show-off like that.

who hogs the blankets? 

Iwaizumi does. But Daichi doesn’t mind. The cold never bothered him anyway. (heh)

who gets more sad? 

WHY WOULD THEY BE SAD???? The only scenario that I can imagine them being sad, is when they do actually watch a sad movie, and Iwaizumi would deny that he’s even crying, even though Daichi could tell that tear-streaks on his cheeks, and his voice really sounded nasal and stuffy.

who is better at cheering the other up? 

Daichi can easily coax Iwaizumi to a better mood with an adorable smile.

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

Daichi does. Which Iwaizumi would playfully return, until it escalates to playful wrestling (at least when they’re alone).

who is more streetwise?

Iwaizumi, but just by a little. (He doesn’t take so much credit though, because some things, he learned *read: overheard* from Matsukawa and Hanamaki.)

who is more wise?

Well, it’s not about who is more wise, because I think they both are. It’s just that Daichi is more insightful in a way that someone in a position of leadership is.

who’s the shyest? 

Daichi is shyer than Iwaizumi, but he’s had his fair share of flustering the other, especially when he’s being adorably sincere with his compliments and praises.

who boasts about the other more? 

“I mean, not to brag, or anything, but no one’s ever won against Iwaizumi in arm wrestling. I’m just saying.”

- an actual quote by one Sawamura Daichi

who sits on who’s lap? 

They take turns, because again, they’re egalitarian like that. Daichi sits on Iwaizumi’s lap when he’s feeling particularly cuddly. Iwaizumi doesn’t pass up the opportunity to sit on those glorious thighs, but he does so when he wants to initiate sexy times. *waggles eyebrows*

(*^▽^*)ゞ Stay tuned~ 


Aged-up characters, domestic fluffs, kissing, etc. under the cut :)

Their Sunday afternoon routine officially qualified them as an old married couple, in Garfield’s opinion. He reclined on their bed, studying lines like always, while Raven meditated next to him. He had an audition the next day, one that he was actually feeling hopeful about for once. This role wasn’t quite as demeaning as some others he had played in the past, and at this point, Garfield was willing to count that as a golden opportunity. Best of all, he was finally starting to feel like he had a handle on the character. And there was something about Raven’s rhythmic droning that helped him get in the zone.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t actually heard her chant for a few minutes now.

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anonymous asked:

Ironwinter "You need to go." or "I don't want you." because I could use some angst please.

Is this angsty enough for you, nonnie? Because I aim to please ;D

Of all the terrible things Bucky had done, this might actually be the worst. Tony was staring at him in confusion, coffee cup halfway to his lips. Perhaps Bucky should have picked a better time for this, but he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tony asked, but his words lacked their usual confidence.

“I said, we should break up.” Bucky managed to maintain eye contact, but it took everything he had.

Tony blinked, his coffee cup lowering. Bucky could see the walls beginning to slam shut — Tony always hid behind them when he felt insecure or hurt.

“Okay. I admit that was sudden.” Tony sounded indifferent, but Bucky knew better. It was the carefree kind of nonchalance that Tony used whenever he felt like he’d lost control of the situation. Unsurprisingly, his boyfriend of six months suddenly dumping him without warning qualified as one of those times.

With effort, Bucky kept going, reminding himself that he had to do this. There was no other way. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “We gave it a try, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.”

Bucky hated himself.

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“So,” Vivani murmured as she twirled a red ice popsicle. “is the letter ’s’ or ‘c’ silent in the word 'scent’?”
“Dude.. I am not even sure…” Jason replied and I snorted, watching kids play around in the park. “What goes on in that skull of yours, Viv?”
I proceeded to roll my eyes with a smile, but paused as teary Bean came running with a blubbering Casey. Behind them, maybe 10 paces away, a mother rushed over to an older child who was crying as well. “What happened, bro?” Viv asked as we all got up from the bench. Casey was too busy crying, with snot running down his face, but Bean managed to speak instead as Jason pulled out a tissue pack for the two. “Some b-bigger kids were being mean to us, b-but Princess hit them a-a-and they hit her and-”
“Wait, where is Sofia?” Jason paused to wipe the smallest skeleton and I looked around, not able to find her in the playground. The mother I had seen before was storming over with a pissed look and I scooped Bean up in my arms. “We’ll go lookin for her,” I said as Viv did the same with Casey, who hadn’t stopped crying yet. “I know this place more than you two, and she wouldn’t be that far away.”
“Then I’ll stay,” she replied as we glanced again at the mother. “cos I’m guessing that lady might want a word or two with us.”
“Like I care about her,” Jason slightly scoffed and locked eyes with mine. “I’m coming too-”
“Look, smart guy,” I frowned at him. “maybe it’ll be better if we split up and search for Sofia, that way we cover more ground.”
I  didn’t wait for his reply and took off to my left, searching for a Princess as the mother caught up with the skeletons. I’ve never seen him that serious before, and chewed my lip at the thought of Sofia being hurt. Sure, she got herself into a lot of fights, but the older child I had seen was twice as big.
Taking a turn to the right, I jogged down a path that led to a familiar-looking big tree as I called out Sofia’s name a couple of times. “Princess? Sofie? Sofia the First? Come on now, let’s go back to big brother Jay Jay!”
No response.
 I had a feeling she was hiding behind the tree and sure enough, I found her hugging her knees, staring at the grass beneath her. “Princess?” I tried again, lowering my voice, but she only sunk her head even lower. “Go away.” She snapped at me and I sat down beside her, crossing my legs and letting Bean rest her head on my lap. “No can do, your highness, your bro wouldn’t be happy to know I lost you again after finding you quite easily.” She huffed to that and said nothing. Stroking Ermerald’s hair with one hand, I sent a text to Jason with the other. 'Found her, meet me near fountain after 10 minutes.’
And after that I just waited.
Maybe two minutes later I checked on Bean, only to find her sleeping softly with dried up tears on her cheeks. “So,” I cleared my throat silently. “mind telling me what happened at the playground?”
I half expected her to say nothing, but she did what I had half hoped for. Still pouting, she glanced at me and took her time before answering. “One of the kids called us a 'freak’, so I punched him.”
“Oh that’s fine,” I slightly chuckled. “it’s bound to happen with peeps like us.”
“Us?” Sofia echoed and I nodded, dipping my head closer to hers. “I don’t normally tell many people about this, but even I am, uh what do ya call it, half-something-half-other-thing.”
Sofia slightly widened her dark dusty pink eyes and whispered. “Is one of your parents a monster too??” I shook my head, smiling and lookin into the horizon.
A few more hours before the sun would set.
“Nahh, they both are, uh, kinda from two different countries who aren’t exactly in.. good terms?… I mean, you don’t hear much about the two big groups arguing, but they definitely had a war way back like the human race and monster kind did,”
“so it kinda gets awkward when people find that out about you, but yeah I’ve been there, not being treated right and all.. Heck, some even retorted with the 'why did you two get married then?’ thingy when my parents argued for respect.”
I looked down for a moment then glanced at Princess, who continued to stare at me quietly. “And you’ve had fights too?”
“Well,” I smiled sheepishly. “I kinda was too much of a crybaby to actually fight back, and later was too tired to even bother… But ya know what, you do you to be honest. Just,” I slightly hesitated, but placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling wider this time. “just know that you’re not alone, kay? We can figure things out if you talk about it- and ya know, pick your fights wisely.”
Sofia snorted to that. “I can fight anyone.”
“Yeah you can, but there is a time and a place for a fight, you just gotta be sharp about deciding when and where should it be. And, eventhough you are blessed with superhuman strength, you’re not gonna win every fight ya know…”
I pushed at the rim of my glasses and grinned at Princess, who glanced at my right arm. “Is that how you got that scar?” I dropped my smile and tugged at my sleeve, looking away for a moment. “…Let’s not talk about that…”
“I gotta admit,” I spoke as I got up with Emerald, stirring in her sleep, in my arms. “you kinda don’t give the impression your nickname does at times.. That’s cool, like you’re more of a warrior than a princess.”
Sofia smirked in response and got up as well, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Being a damsel in distress is kinda lame.”
I laughed, “Seconded, now come on,” and offered her my hand. “let’s go.”
As we came closer to the fountain, I thought for a bit then asked Sofia something. “What are ya gonna do with all those teeth?”
“What teeth?”
“Don’t act dumb, Princess,” I cracked a smirk. “I noticed you collecting them that one time you beat up a girl in your class. Spill it”
“… I was planning to make a necklace out of it..”
Yikes, not so much like a princess Indeed ™.
“Wow, that’s, uhhh… I hope you clean them..”
“Oh I do, the whole thing kinda helps me deal with the whole 'people being poopheads’.”
I gave a snort. “Yeah well I used to comfort myself with this stuffed toy of mine, it’s this ballerina bunny, except her tutu somehow got lost and now she only has this dress that makes her look like a gymnast,” I paused.
“Do you want it?”
Kids will be kids, I smiled as Princess looked up at me in surprise. “You don’t want it??”
“Nahh, I think it’ll be better if she’s with you instead.”
Sofia grinned, eyes sparkling, but she tried to hide it with a shrug. “I’ll think about it.” I looked ahead and found Jason facing towards the fountain with his hands buried deep in his pockets, and Vivani was eating another nice cream with Casey.
“Sorry we took too long.” I said and Jason spun around, masking his relief as quick as it came.
“It’s fine,” He replied nonchalantly and slightly narrowed his eyes at Sofia, who gave a shy smile. “and you, no more running off like that, okay Princess?”
Bean murmured something and I shifted her in my arms. “I’d better get going, Emerald’s had long day today, and Robin would prolly want her kid back.”
“Oh, yeah sure, and thanks for getting Sofia back, mom and dad would’ve chewed me up if I went back home without her.” Jason finally smiled at me and I smiled back, feeling my cheeks warm up a bit. “No problem, and no we all know you wouldn’t have gone home anyways.. By the way, what did that lady say?”
Viv and Jay gave small groans, obviously not enjoying whatever memory they had. “I’ll.. uh tell you later, by texting you..” Jason mumbled and I shrugged. “Okay, well.. See ya..”
 We all gave a little wave and I turned to leave, but only after I winked at Princess, who grinned and waved for a bit longer.
( @remaining-head-spirits ok no frt, the post of Princess bein called half-breed hit me in the kokoro, and aah sorry I had to rush with the ending, which is why it is abrupt and lame! And yeh tis I, the anon who told you that I’d write a fanfic…)

In Your Eyes (Part 3.5 of Four)

Pairing: MinKey
Rating: PG 13
Length: 4k
Warnings: None.

Summary: Vignettes from Minho and Key being together. 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Key wasn’t sure how his and Minho’s relationship was going to change, now that they’d put a label on what they were, but he certainly hadn’t expected this.

Nothing happened.

The two of them were still as flirty and communicative as they had been before Minho’s confession and subsequent declaration that they were together, and that felt pretty wonderful. Key had never been more comfortable relationship before, but that was probably because he’d never been with someone who was so well suited for him.

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With the Heart of May

[Someone in the malec tag couldn’t sleep and was asking for flower crown pics. I can’t do manips but I can write and I’m feeling very stressed out so I attempted to write some flowery fluff… this came out instead. Enjoy?]

There was a rose where the doorknob used to be.

Alec stared at it for a moment, brow furrowed first in confusion, then in worry. It could just be the latest in Magnus’ redecoration efforts, but those were usually restricted to the inside of the loft. Nothing else seemed amiss: the hallway was the same as always, there were no signs of forced entry, there weren’t even any suspicious noises coming from Magnus’ place.

Although there was something.

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Adult Supervision

Summary: One-shot. Jaken’s scheme to find the Inu no Taisho’s tomb takes an unexpected turn when the Unmother brings Izayoi back from the dead. Alive in the demon’s body, Izayoi wants to make amends with Inuyasha by doing what she couldn’t before: being there.

Words: 7k

Also on

A/N: Inuparents Day fic. The story isn’t about their relationship, but it’s often mentioned! 

Dedicated to @wreathoflaurels, who made me love Izayoi. To me, she’s really your character!

“I have come back, Inuyasha… Back from the world of the dead.”

Izayoi was aware of something channeling her, tugging at her spirit—disturbing her peace.

“Stop hurting her!” A man screamed from the outside.

“Your son,” the thing whispered. “The man is your son.”


“Are you okay?” A girl’s voice sounded close by.

“Who’s there? Who are you?” Izayoi asked the darkness.

“I am the Unmother.”

“Kagome, you and her, get out of here!” Inuyasha barked.

“I think not,” Sesshomaru’s voice scorned.

“It’s a trap,” Izayoi realized. She started fighting the demon’s grasp, feeling the strength of the souls which formed it—mothers mourning children who would never come home.

Their intentions weren’t good.

“This place… Where is it?” Inuyasha asked.

“Nowhere!” Izayoi wanted to yell. “It’s an illusion!”

“At the bottom of the spirit world,” the Unmother answered. “I must be crossing over very soon.”

Izayoi would have groaned if she could. Stuck inside the Unmother’s body, she was able to read her like a book.

Inuyasha would die.

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royalty - part six

title : royalty (PG)

type : chaptered

character : Jaebum

plot : bodyguard!Jaebum AU; you’re not the typical princess he thought he had to protect

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part seven | part eight | part nine

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Words Don’t Come So Easily

I had some inspiration from a lot of these songs; X & Y  as well as the requested song so I’ve tailored it to what I believe would happen, as well as trying to go ‘step for step’ with the song. Even though this is really bad and has a significant lack of smut, I hope you like it. *Based on a gif that isn’t my own*

Request by; Anon.

Request;  I have a request, if you are willing. I would like to request a songfic betwen Owen x Reader of “Remind Me” by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood… Obviously kind of step by step with the lyrics, they’re broken up but get back together with a little smut and lots of fluff??? please and thanks!


Warnings; None.

You grumbled and wandered about listlessly and aimlessly because of the unhappiness Claire had just shoved in your face. Working at Jurassic World for six years now, meant you’d gotten close with a few of your co-workers, Claire being one of them, Owen Grady being the other. So when she’d informed you that you’d be the one going to convince him to check out the parks new attraction, you hit her with a straight faced, “no way.” Of course she knew about your previous relationship with Owen, everyone did, at one point the two of you were inseparable having gotten into trouble and almost fired many times because of your ‘very public displays of affection’ as Claire put it. But that all ended when you caught Owen drunkenly sucking another girls face off at works Christmas party last year. Finally reaching the six degrees of separation you’d moved on, having met new people and had different ‘moments’ with other men by the time the June heat came around you’d almost forgotten your relationship with Grady though Claire had now bitterly reminded you of everything wrong he did. 

“Why can’t you do it?” you protested. The thought of seeing Grady’s face turned your stomach in knots.

“Because I’m busy. You know how much work I have to do everyday.” She sighed. “Look Y/n, I know you don’t like it but just go over, explain it, he’ll say yes and boom you can leave. You’ll be in and out in just over an hour, tops.” She reassured you, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving her, her best ‘am I convincing you that I care when I don’t’ look. Rolling your eyes and shutting them you huffed. 

“Fine. One hour. If he’s not convinced by then, then it’s not my problem. I’m out of there.” Claire gave a grateful smile and patted your back before sending you on your way. Hopping on your Harley Davidson CVO Road King, it wasn’t just Owen Grady who was into their bikes, you headed towards your destination, preparing your thirty minute rant as to why he should accept, though you said an hour after Claire said over an hour, she’d be lucky if you were going to stay there for any longer than fifteen minutes. Riding down the familiar dirt track brought back memories of your time together with Owen and the ridiculous adventures you went on. They brought a smile to your face which dulled as soon as you pulled up to the messy bungalow. Parking your bike up just off the track, you stopped the engine and ruffled your hair. Rolling your shoulders back you stood up straight and waltzed towards the bungalow, seeing Owen hunched over his bike around the corner before he saw you made you hesitate, perhaps you could just lie to Claire that he accepted? But then what would happen when he never turned up and Claire investigated? You’d get fired that’s what. You cleared your throat, standing a mere three steps from him he snapped his head up, upon noticing it was you his eyes widened slightly though his lips remained sealed. He put his tools down on the floor next to him and you took the opportunity to explain the situation.

“Claire sent me to ask you if you would do her a favour and check out a new dinosaur’s enclosure.” He raised his eyebrows, standing up and walking towards you. Your heart twisted and turned with his every movement, a flood of emotions washing over you as you took in how handsome he was. 

“And here I was thinking this was a personal visit.” His voice was gruff, deeper than you remembered with a lot more sarcastic, sexual undertones in. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he moved even closer to you, now only two steps.

“Trust me this is not a personal visit. I’m just here to consult about this project. Nothing more.” You folded your arms, eyes trailing his body before locking with his own green gaze. One step.

“Would you like to consult here or in my bungalow?” He smirked and you watched as his eyes searched your body. 

“Owen, stop playing around. You know you blew it. This…this can’t happen again.” 

His tone suddenly shifted; “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered you know…do you ever miss us?” You shifted your weight, breaking eye contact and staring at the ground, your cheeks flared at his charm and before you could answer he answered for you; “I miss us. Our fun, waking up next to you everyday and then when I made that stupid mistake with that girl who I didn’t even know or cared to know and you left. It ate me up inside.I could handle not being with you but I knew you needed your space so I gave it to you. I knew you’d be with…others…and I couldn’t handle that so I stayed as far away as possible but now I can’t and I’ve just…” He huffed unable to get his words out.

“Owen why is this all coming out now? It’s been six months…if you wanted me back that badly you would have done something about it earlier.” You folded your arms, reason slipping over your clouded emotions. He sighed, giving his best puppy dog eyes and moving even closer to you, so your elbows were touching his chest.

“I just…Y/n…I love you…” closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against yours and your eyes widened in surprise before relaxing and moving methodically against his, all your previous emotions of being happy with him flooded back to you. Your hands moved up to wrap around his neck and his own around your waist, pressing your body close to his as he nipped on your lower lip. Upon doing so you let out a bizarre squeaking sound and he chuckled, parting from you.

“You don’t remember? I always used to do that and you always used to make that noise, either that or something along the lines of -” he imitated your voice in a high pitched manner - “Oh Owen.” he laughed once more and you punched his chest lightly. 

“Well, then that means that maybe…” you paused gazing into his eyes with a slight smirk, “…you should remind me of the things I’ve forgotten.” you bit your lip and winked and he chuckled wiggling his eyebrows in agreement to a night of amazing sex, placing another loving kiss on your lips before picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. As he carefully carried you into his bungalow, you felt as if you were fine china, so precious to him and you knew in that moment, Owen had redeemed himself, everything was going back to normal, you were meant for each other and that’s the way it was going to be. 

I'll Follow You

Summary: Inspired by Death Cab For Cutie’s “I Will Follow You Into The Dark" 

He walked into the room only when the healers had ushered the others out and then departed themselves. Even then, he watched quietly in the shadows, unseen as people paced outside of the room, voices low and mouths twisted in grief. He waited long after the visitors had dissipated, the maids had cleaned the hallway, and the torches in the sconces had flickered out. He waited until the last healer stepped from the room and wiped his brow, frowning to himself. As his soft, supple leather slippers shuffled down the stairs, he sighed quietly to himself, a sigh that spoke more than whatever words he’d be forced to dredge up later. The sound spoke of centuries, of millenniums. 

He waited a beat longer, to ensure that the healer wasn’t returning. And then he stepped from the shadows and walked up the stairs, his own footsteps silent, halting. He knew what he would find. But that didn’t make the journey any easier to take. His fingers grasped the handle and turned it. After a heartbeat, then two, he finally opened the door. 

The room smelled clean, of fresh herbs and poultices. Everything had been cleared away from the bed to allow the healers space to work, a small end table set back for their supplies. The fireplace roared in order to keep the room warm, the poplar logs crackling under the blaze. He took his time, taking note of the set-up of the room, the way that the doors to the balcony were closed, curtains drawn over them to keep out the chill. When she was awake, she kept them open at all times, enjoying the breeze that scraped off of the tops of the mountains.

After he finished studying the armoire, the rugs, the tapestries, and the bookshelves, he finally allowed himself to stand at the foot of the bed, the blankets brilliantly colored and thick. For any normal person, they would have kept them warm and cozy through the night. But as his gaze slowly dragged up past the mass of blankets and took in the feverish, pasty face of the Inquisitor, he knew that she was not warm. And soon, there would be no living thing to keep warm beneath the piles of good intentions. 

"Ma vhenan,” he whispered, and his voice cracked. He moved around the side of the bed fluidly, gracefully. A trembling hand reached beneath the blankets and pawed around, finally finding her fingers. He could feel a map of her violent past, nicks, and bumps over her knuckles, a scar across the back of her hand from when an assassin had thrown a star just right, a healed burn from when she’d stood too close to a blast -he let out a short, coughing breath because his lungs refused to work properly for a moment. He thought of when she would come to him, injured but so very alive, eyes bright enough to burn. And he would heal her wounds, scold her for her carelessness, admonish her to be careful. She would kiss his lips, a playful grin dancing across her mouth. Of course, she would say, of course. I will do better next time.

“I suppose…your luck had to run out sometime.” He said, and he blinked back the heat that suddenly pressed against his eyelids. He held her hand like it was an anchor, like it was the only thing holding him down. She did not reply though, her once bold and expressive mouth slack, her breathing shallow. Sweat dotted her brow, and he let go of her hand in order to dab some of it away, mindless in his task. It would not help her, in the end. No matter the little things he could do, the nurse-like tasks he would commit to, the end result would be the same. Some wounds went too deep. Some injuries were just too fatal. 

“Ma vhenan, I told you to be careful.” He chastised gently, sinking to his knees. He laid his head beside her shoulder, staring at her face in profile. The way her cheekbones cut ruthlessly. The way her nose sharply slanted, giving way to full lips and a narrow chin. He had found her beautiful the way that he found any predator beautiful -unbridled strength, fierce instincts. And yet, without her vallaslin there, there was a certain softness to her face. The slave brands had made her dark, intimidating before anyone spoke to her. Now though, he could see how she could not only be a warrior, a fighter, and a leader, but a woman, a lover, and a kindred spirit. 

She did not reply, her rattling breath difficult and labored. He wondered at the healers leaving, if they thought she was either not worth the effort, or if they believed that she had at least the night. No, they would not leave her if she was going to die soon. The room would be full, heads bowed, hands clenching needily at their sides as their leader departed from this world. The thought did not comfort him. One night. One night with her, one moment, a blink in time when one lives forever. But he would take it. Beggars could not be choosers. And oh, how he was so close to begging.

“There was so much that I wanted to tell you.” He whispered, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. He felt his lips tremble, felt an ache in his chest that made his own breathing as difficult as hers. “There was so much to say.”

She inhaled sharply, paused, and then exhaled. He looked up at her face, tracing its expression. Her eyes darted underneath her eyelids, lost in a fever-dream. They could ease her pains of the body, but they could not ease her mind. She was a fighter, one of hard work and blood. She would rage against the failings of her own body until she died for it. 

He cradled her face, brushed his thumb over clammy skin. It was not right, that it should be like this. How dare she leave, how dare she go before he could set things right, show her that it was not out of cruelty, but of love? How dare she? Had he not warned her? Had he not cautioned her? Had he not insisted on her safety, repeated lectures of not taking unnecessary risks until it was practically a mantra? He gritted his teeth, pressed his forehead to the blankets. 

“Please, ma vhenan, do not leave me.” He begged. A god on his knees. But he would do anything for her, anything to ease the agony. 

But she did not answer. She merely trembled despite the warmth of the room, her mouth working wordlessly as she dreamed. 

She dreamed. 

He did not hesitate. Entering the fade was as easy as breathing, as easy as the second from one moment to the next. One moment, he stared down at her slowly weakening form, and in the next he was asleep, looking around Haven in mild confusion. 

She stood at the edge of the road, her arms folded. She did that when she was thinking. She folded her arms, set her jaw. He walked up beside her, the tightness in his chest easing as he saw her healthy, vibrant. In the fade, she glowed. 

“Ma vhenan.” He whispered, and she looked at him and smiled. Warm. Friendly. Gentle.

“I was waiting for you.” She replied. Without asking, she took his hand and held it, her palm warm and dry instead of clammy and cold.

“I apologize for taking so long.”

“You were busy, weren’t you? But you came for me now, and that’s what matters.” He didn’t know how to form the words to tell her, and instead he continued to stand beside her, pretending that this was truth, pretending that this was reality.

“…I am dying, Solas.” She said, matter-of-fact. “I can feel it in my bones, in my lungs. I won’t last long.” He felt a tremor wrack him, but her hand tightened around his.

“Perhaps there is something I may yet do?” He said, although he could taste the lie, and he knew she could hear it, too. She laughed, the sort of laugh that held no humor in it. 

“I just thought that I would come to where it all began before I go.” She didn’t bother addressing his hopeful words. She knew there was no chance.

“This is an important place for you.”

“It is where many wonderful and terrible things began.” She sighed, wistful. “There is so much that I wanted to do.”

“Ma vhenan, I am sorry. I was not there for you, and you needed me.” He turned her to face him, and it enraged him to see her so calm. Why did she not fight? Why did she not rage? Why was he feeling her emotions for her, her own face so serene, so peaceful?

“It’s alright, Solas. These things happen." 

"No. No, they do not happen. I should have been there, I should have-”

“Solas,” she gently pressed a finger to his lips, staring up at him tenderly. “It’s alright. I was just waiting for you. But now I have to go.”

Go? Go? He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his mouth, shaking his head because she couldn’t go, there had to be more time, she couldn’t leave him, she couldn’t go because he would be alone, he would be alone and he would never see her again-

“Please,” he rasped, and he jerked her against his chest, clinging to her like she was the sole force keeping him grounded. “Please don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“It’s going to be alright. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. And I know that you had to leave. I have been dying for some time, but I had to wait for you to come. I knew you would come. And I wanted to say goodbye.” She smiled up at him, a tenderness he could not fathom. “I could not follow you then, and you cannot follow me now.”

He shook his head, violently, angrily. It was not the same, it was not the same at all.

“Solas…it’s time to let me go.” She pulled away from him, her sparkling eyes suddenly dim. “It is time for me to end where I began.”

“No, please…” his voice shook; his hands trembled. But as he reached for her, she stepped away from him and turned, walking up the steps to Haven where she would lay her head to rest. Her back was straight. Her footsteps did not falter. But he could not watch her leave. He ran, scrambling to reach her, trying to drag her back to him before it was too late, it couldn’t be too late, if he didn’t reach her in time she would-

He jerked awake, and he let out a cry of fear more than pain. Beneath him, Lupa lay slumped into the mattress, a small smile on her lips. No breath escaped her, her eyes closed only just. He grabbed her shoulders, shook her. But he knew she would not wake, knew she would not ever open her eyes to bat his hands away.

“No, no, no…” His voice wavered, broke. “No, ma vhenan, no…please, do not leave me…you cannot leave me…please, do not go where I cannot follow you…” He tasted tears, hot and anguished. He clutched her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, her body limp, her own arms useless at her sides. A sob tore his throat, a broken, awful thing. He could not follow her, he could not find her, not in the Void, not in the place that rejected all living-

…but he could. 

He looked down at her, smoothed rumpled hair from her brow. The room, the tangible, heavy things around him could not ground him. He felt very distanced from it all, disconnected. Was he not a god? Was he not once a powerful being that crossed between worlds with little to no thought, and even less effort? He closed his eyes, opened them. He took her hand, now heavy with death, and he caressed the anchor that still glowed, somehow sustained despite the lack of life. He grasped her hand tightly and focused his magic, channeling the power through the anchor viciously, violently. 

The reaction was instantaneous. 

Magic, his own magic, flooded him, delicious and bright. It had been long since he’d tasted his own power on his tongue, had felt it tingling in his veins. He did not wait to study it, though. With his eyes glowing a brilliant white, he shifted and stood above Lupa, waving a hand beside him to cut through the Veil, showing the fade within. Stepping through it, physically instead of spiritually, a feat that once could have killed him, did not touch him.

And when he reached the Void, he did not pause to think. There were only two that had crossed it while living before, one that carried the dead and the other that carried death with her fist. But he did not entertain thoughts of returning, for what life was there when she was not with him? When she could not walk the earth and live as he could? He stepped across the Void, clenched his hands in determination. Ma vhenan, I will see you soon.

I will follow you into the dark

anonymous asked:

request for jungkook angst: he's angry that you don't see him as a 'man' he's still a child to you and when he confesses he loves you, you deny him bc you're scared to get hurt in a relationship and he gets mad bc he's been the nice guy for so long when all your ex's were jerks

Well, this message was cheerful and about how I’m finally getting back to two posts per day, but then tumblr crashed… So, angsty opening for an angsty story. Hope you enjoy~

Title: Hurt
Genre: Angst
Members: Jungkook
Words: 1139

Jungkook was tired of it. Tired of you treating him like a child. Sure, he might act like one most of the time, but that was because that was the only thing he could do to get your attention, and to be sure that you knew he wasn’t like your ex’s. He liked you, or maybe he loved you, and yet he didn’t know how to tell you. He was always acting like a kid, trying to make you laugh because he loved the sound, and so he wasn’t sure how you would react to him being serious.

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Talk to me baby.

He took heavy steps through the crowded street. It was a Friday but all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and make his blanket a snuggle partner. “Excuse me.” Yet another sorry excuse for bumping into him. Without acknowledging the voice, Oikawa dragged his steps towards the bus station.

Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he sincerely hoped that he didn’t have to deal with people for the rest of the night. Oikawa has been working at the same cafe for the last two years and he did enjoy his time there though, there were night that the work took a toll on him. The never ending stream of young female customers fed his addiction for praises but having to deal with their constant demands did get a little tiring. Side-stepping to avoid another couple, whom were too engrossed with each other, Oikawa rolled his eyes again. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get a girlfriend. Oikawa probably could get any girl he want but his interest was of the same gender. Men whom he has tried flirting with had found him frivolous and attention seeking, sad to say, those men rarely went beyond a second date with him. A sigh passed his lips as he thought about his tragic love life.

Updating himself on his social media accounts, he stepped from foot to foot waiting for the bus that seemed to take forever to arrive, when a deep voice starting singing. Eyes flickering up from his phone screen, they widened as he met with the face singing one of his favorite songs. Standing along the streets, a guitar strapped across his front and the case opened by his feet, was a rather handsome face. Oikawa almost laughed. That face was not one he would have associated with a boyband song, much less a band that had stopped singing for years now. Dressed in a dark leather jacket, jeans and combat boots, the performer seemed to attract a decent sized crowd, Oikawa amongst them.

“I’m flying without wings.” Tanned fingers strummed the final chords to the song and Oikawa realised he had been staring. One, because he had missed his bus that was leaving right now. And two, dark eyes were staring back at him with a raised eyebrow. Oikawa tried to look elsewhere but failed. Yes, he may be a flirt but Oikawa was not going to deny that he was bad with flirting where it mattered. He’s been told one too many times by his best friend that his pick up lines were horrible. Not that it would ever work on Hanamaki. The whole not his cup of tea thing.

But, standing before him, was definitely his cup of tea, coffee, beer, whatever. He was definitely drinking that. Oikawa watched as the street performer bent forward to pick up a bottle. He stared even harder as Handsome raised the bottle to his lips. He was stared back and Oikawa could feel those eyes seeing right through him. Before he could embarrass himself with his wild imagination, Oikawa stepped onto the first bus that came, not missing the amused look on the handsome face as the performer started a new set of songs.

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For Lack Of  A Better Title (Ch. 2)


I might end up posting this on ao3 but I haven’t decided yet. Anyhow, I’m honestly not totally sure myself what direction this story is taking but we’ll see

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5Chapter 6 pt. 1 |


And here we go

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anonymous asked:

I went through your promt thingy and I have A LOT to ask so I'll just list them and you can pick the one you want (or several if you are extra inspired) Any boy- 8 , 38, 47 Micheal- 26, 34 Ashton- 48 I don't mean to sound bratty or anything its just that your writing gives me feels an I WANT FEELS BC HEY EVERYBODY WRECKED ME AND AHDKSOWN😭😭

I took a screenshot of this and I’ll get around to some more from it when I grab the time, but for now I went with Ashton and 48! :)


Ashton liked keeping his relationship with you private.  It gave him a sense of security that people knew little about you, only knowing that you were his girlfriend and that he was very happy to be the lucky guy you called a boyfriend.     And sure, you had your social media on public, and were nice to fans of course, but you never gave out much of what went on between the two of you, or about yourself much either, because you knew that made Ashton feel safe.

He tugged you closer to his side, pressing a kiss on your temple as your arms wrapped under the warmth of his jacket.  There were some fans out and about the radio station ready to catch sight of the boys, but that would wait for a moment, since he wanted to hug you a while longer.  Ashton looked down at you when you suddenly giggled, a smile coming onto his face at the pretty facial expression that put on you,

“What’s up, cutiepie?” He questioned with a peck on your lips at the end of his sentence.  You shook your head softly, sending little tingles up his spine when you began making little trails with your fingertips,

“You’re always so cuddly and it makes me happy.” You explained, tearing a hand away from his back to go up and brush a little stray section of hair from the center of his forehead.  He watched your eyes as they moved around to look his appearance over. “You’re really affectionate.” 

“Oh, that’s a good adjective.” He grinned stroking back your hair, “Been needing more to use up when the interviewers ask me to describe you.” You only giggled, cupping his cheeks as you kissed him softly, and then let your hands fall to his chest so you could nudge him towards the door of the car, the other boys waiting probably impatiently outside.  

“See you at the hotel later.” Ashton trailed his hand from the top of your arm to down to your own little appendage as he slid out of the car.  Dark boots hit the white pavement after he’d mumbled out a discreet I love you, and shut the door swiftly.  The fans were giddy at his delayed arrival, asking questions if it had been because he and you were talking.  And those questions he brushed away with a shy smile, but when they went ahead and asked what you were like, he didn’t answer.  He wanted too, but he found himself scribbling autographs and taking selfies too lost in thought of how to actually talk about you.  

“It would take a bit for me to answer that right.” He’d said at the end of the meet, about to be dragged inside by security, but the question still puzzled him more than ever.  Maybe it was because you threw out that adjective in the SUV, or mentioned last night that he always acted carefully.  He remembered overhearing you on the phone with a friend and had smiled when you expressed how adorable it was when he was passionate about things.  But now he just kind of wondered why he could never do the same for you.  “She’s just, like, really amazing.” Had been the way he spoke about you during that interview today.

“What’s up?” You asked when he slumped down face first into the puffy white sheets that were way too cold to the touch from that annoying hotel AC.  He groaned, muffling the noise because of the mattress.  “Ash?” You joined him lying your head sideways and reaching to play with his hair.  “Bad interview?”

“No, it’s not that.” He muttered, turning onto a tanned cheek to look back at you.  Lips were pursed into a pout that looked somewhat childish due to his cheek being smushed up by the mattress, “Its just that I can’t describe you and it makes me mad.”  Ashton reached, wrapping arms around your waist to pull you to him, “I’m always asked about you, and I’m not capable of finding words good enough.  I’m always stumped and look really dumb because I just say that you’re great or amazing, but it’s because there’s no way to string words in the right order and get a good description of you out of them.” Your cheeks had turned a soft pink throughout the proclamation,

“Baby, that was honestly the sweetest thing you could’ve said right there.” He kissed your gently at the end of your sentence, casting a glance down to your lips as he parted back,

“Yeah, but,” He shrugged, chuckling before pulling you in even closer and burying his face against your chest, “It’s just never going to be enough.”

I’ll Think About It

He couldn’t count the amount of times he had proposed to her

Chapter 14: The Rise & Fall of Roy Mustang’s Mustache 

“Um, Captain Hawkeye?”

“Yes Fuery?”

“The Fuhrer fell asleep at his desk again.”

“Thank you for letting me know, I’ll take care of it.”

Riza sighed as she rose from her desk and let herself into Mustang’s office. Sure, Roy was no stranger to napping during the day, but that was when he was colonel. Not that he wasn’t important back then, but his new rank certainly had given him more responsibility and Riza knew he only slept at the office when he was overwhelmed. Before it had been extra research, now it was that in addition to spreading himself too thin. He tried to hide from her the best he could, insisting he could balance the usual duties of the Fuhrer as well as several side projects. Try as he might, there simply weren’t enough hours in a day and she wasn’t about to let him make himself sick or risk the press seeing him like this.

“Sir?” she said sternly, clearing her throat. He jolted awake, attempting to make it look as though he hasn’t just been passed out.

“Hawkeye, yes, you’re here for the case files?” if his messy hair didn’t give him away, his voice did.

“I collected them two hours ago sir,” she said gently. “Sir, if you need to leave early to catch up on your sleep, we understand.”

“Nonsense, captain,” he insisted. “I can’t let my team pick up my slack.”

“If you keep falling asleep, that won’t be optional, sir. How can I trust you’ve read what you’ve signed when you keep dozing off?”

“I’m fine,” he said firmly. “Besides, it’s just this week.” That’s what he said last week. “It’s a little hectic, I’ve been visiting the orphanage more often and state alchemist exams are coming up, these are things I need to oversee personally. I assure you, my work will not suffer.”

“If you say so,” she was not convinced. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you: if you fall asleep in the office again, there will be consequences.”

He smiled at her. “I assure you it won’t happen again.”

It did.

The very next day, Riza walked in to find the fuhrer, leaning back in his chair snoring. What could she do? True, her job was protecting him but she couldn’t spend her entire day keeping him awake without falling behind herself. Needless to say, paperwork did little to keep him alert. As much as they joked about, he knew she wouldn’t ever actually shoot him for falling asleep, so how could she follow through with her threat?

Suddenly inspired, Hawkeye acted quickly. True, the whole thing was rather childish of her, she hadn’t acted this way since the two of them were young but its how she knew it would work. She was almost giddy, though unworried about being caught should he awaken. She finished quickly and excited his office as if nothing was out of the ordinary and sat at her desk to wait.

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  • A/N: Well, I'm guessing this will be the final part. But, it might not be the end just yet. Stay tuned on my blog for more information.
  • Luke: The bell rang, announcing that the last class of the day was over. You took your time retrieving your stuff, seeing as you hadn't much to do that Friday afternoon. Slowly, you made your way out of the classroom. "Took you long enough", out of the corner of your eye, you saw Luke's tall frame leaning against the wall. "What are you doing here?", you asked, trying your best to not sound rude. "Waiting for you", he swiftly took your books, holding your hand with his free one. "Why?", you said, forcing your body not to tense up at his sweet touch. "Because I wanted to", he shrugged, intertwining his finger with yours. You looked at your hands, then at him. He looked so beautiful, almost nothing like the bad boy you used to see in him. But, you knew he was still there. You knew he hadn't changed at all. And you knew that people weren't only staring at you two because they thought you were an odd couple; they were also thinking 'that's the next girl that's gonna have her heart broken by Luke Hemmings'. And you knew better than to fall into his charms, but his voice was like an anesthesia that made your brain lazy and your bones numb, and it was dragging you directly to him. You hated yourself for being like all the other girls that fell for him - you were smarter than them. You knew what was going to happen. But, you didn't mind one bit. You were going to enjoy it while it lasted, and most surely cry when it was over. But, you still didn't have to think about that. "So", you said, putting his arm around your shoulder in a way that you were still holding hands and coming closer to his body, "How were your classes?".
  • Ashton: It didn't take long for Ashton to get to your house. What took you long was gaining courage to sneak out while your parents were sleeping - which he made pretty clear on the way to the party. And now, you were pressed against a wall, feeling like a fish out of the water. You weren't sure what you had expected from the party. Actually, you did know exactly what you had expected. But, now you felt like an idiot for thinking that Ashton Irwin, the bad boy, would spend the whole party talking to you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the good girl. It was only obvious, you now realized, that he was going to leave your side the moment you walked through the door and flirt with random girls all night long. What were you even doing there? You watched as a girl left Ashton alone and walked up to him. "Ashton", you said. "Yeah, babe?", he asked, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I think I'm going home", you struggled to get out of his grip. "What? Why?!", he asked. "'Cause I'm not having much fun", you said, "I don't even think I should've came in the first place". "C'mon, (Y/N)", he put each hand on one side of your waist. "No, really, Ashton. All you've ever done since we got here is ignore me and flirt with random girls". "Are you jealous?", he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Fuck you, Ashton", you rolled your eyes, turning around to leave him. "Wait, are you forgetting I'm your ride back home?", you heard his voice in your ear and felt his front pressed against your back. "I can get a cab", you shrugged. "You don't even know where we are", he had a good point - you were absolutely lost, "I'll drive you home". You knew that if you gave in now, you'd probably end up making out on the back of his car, and then texting each other the whole night long. You wanted to leave alone and go home to think it all through - but you knew Ashton was right. You couldn't leave alone when you had no idea where you were to begin with. "Fine", you huffed, walking off with him.
  • Michael: The dinner was mostly Michael eye fucking you and you avoiding his gaze. Yet, you were lucky enough to be told by your mom that you had to wash the dishes. And, obviously, Michael volunteered to help you. "So, (Y/N)", he said, putting a few plates on the sink, "Do you plan on getting on detention again tomorrow?". "Will you please just shut up?", you pleaded angrily. "Why do you keep ignoring your feelings towards me?", he chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, taking your hair in his hand and putting it all on one side of your shoulder. He started pressing a few kisses on your neck, rising to your earlobe. "We both know I turn you on", he nibbled on your earlobe, hands moving downwards on your body. "Michael", you said sternly, "Stop". "Are you sure you want me to stop?", he pressed a few more kisses to your neck - making sure to leave some marks. "Yes, Michael. Stop", you abruptly turned around. You hadn't quite calculated how close to him you would be when you turned - and it was very close. "Okay", he said, towering you and leaning down. The next think you know, you're sitting on the kitchen stand, Michael standing in between your legs. "I fucking hate you", you said in between kisses, tugging harshly at his hair. "I hate you more, princess", he smirked, pulling your hair a little at it's ends. "(Y/N), are you done yet?", you heard your mother's voice before you could push Michael away. "Uh, I", you stuttered, whole face turning red. "Oh," your mom said, feeling just as awkward as you were, "I'll come back later, then". "Fuck you, Michael", you turned to look at his smirking face once your mom had closed the kitchen door. "Better yet, let me fuck you", he moved closer to you, putting his hands on your knee. "No, really. Fuck off", you pushed his chest. "Are you sure you want that?", he raised his eyebrows. In your head, you concluded that the damage was already done. So, you could enjoy his lips for a little longer. "Fuck it", you mumbled, pulling him closer by his shirt.
  • Calum: "Great show!", you greeted Calum after his band gig, pecking his lip. "You thought so? Thanks", he smiled at you, pinching your bum lightly. "Yeah, I really liked it," you wrapped your arms around his neck. "How about you give me a small treat for it, huh?", he smirked and you blushed lightly, "C'mon", he dragged you to a door - which you assumed that was the backstage. He shut the door and locked it, pressing you against it a second later. One of your hands was playing with his hair, the other pulling him closer to you. His hands made their way to your bum, and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You weren't sure when you and Calum had gotten so intimate - that's 'cause you haven't. You wanted to believe that you weren't just another random girl for him. You wanted to believe you were different. But, you knew better than that. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was making out with another girl backstage after one of his gigs. Yet, why couldn't you let go of him? Spare the pain your heart was going to feel later. If you knew he was no good and you were nothing to him, why couldn't you just tell him to fuck off and walk back home? Because you wanted to be with him. You loved the way he kissed you; talked to you; touched you. You tried to shrug off the fact that you meant nothing to him when he meant so much to you. You tried to create an illusion that you were different to him, and he was falling for you just as hard as you were falling for him. But, you knew that if you created that, you would be even more heartbroken when it was over. So, you got it into your mind that you were nothing to him and that it would eventually end. "So, do you want to go back to my place or should I drive you home?", he broke the kiss. You knew what the right answer was. You knew, and it was on the tip of your tongue. It's now, you thought to yourself, spare the pain you're going to feel later - end this now. "No. I mean, we can go back to your place", you said.

Author: limitlessmonster
Title: Texting Blunders
Pairing: AoKise
Genre: Fluff/Slight Angst/Fluff
Word Count: Approx 2400
Summary: Aomine learns the hard way just how easy it is to misinterpret text messages from Kise.

Based off of this prompt and partially inspired by this song.
A/N: Since our muses started off their relationship with text messages, I thought this was appropriate. :D This was supposed to be posted for the muses’ official one year anniversary on 01/30/15, but it’s a little late because I’m a shit who can’t stop procrastinating. I hope you enjoy the fluffy anyway. ;D

Always for this pos, the Kise to my Aho.

On AO3.

It’s a funny thing, going from friends to something else, something more confusing, more overwhelming, just… more.

When it starts, Aomine isn’t sure what it is exactly; he feels odd and awkward and suddenly more self conscious when Kise is around, and Aomine Daiki doesn’t get odd, awkward, or self conscious. Kise seems just as oblivious to it then as he does now. Except now, Kise is more popular with both girls and guys and Aomine really has a hard time accepting the random times he feels like he wants to punch something whenever he’s forced to be around it.

It used to be that his world consisted of two things: basketball and his impressive collection of gravure magazines. He can handle those things, the easy things. He’s learned to live in his bubble perfectly happy with his limited scope of interests. And then one day, Kise Ryouta isn’t just his friend, isn’t just someone he plays one on one with when he needs something more challenging than whatever drills Imayoshi has him doing during practice. Suddenly, Kise Ryouta becomes Kise Ryouta, and Aomine feels a little dizzy and maybe a little sick when he realizes that maybe he doesn’t mind the change at all.

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You are my...

Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one shot or story where the main character is a female in tvd and kol takes an interest in her and wants to keep her out of harms way but fails because Katherine wanted to get back at the mikaelsons for hunting her for 500 years and so she kills her. Maybe have the main character die in kol’s arms because of Katherine and have it dramtic and reallyyy sad. Sorry if you can’t understand what I’m asking you, but its ok. I really love your writing. Thank you💜

The first time I saw him was at a book store, he was reading Thoreau, I was reading Austen. I didn’t know it then, but looking back, it was one of my favorite moments with him. He eventually looked up from his book and smiled at me, I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks when he did. He had obviously noticed me looking at him but I imagined it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. He looked like a greek god, perfectly sculpted but he had this smirk on his face that said ‘I know something you don’t.’

After my few long moments of gawking at him, he came over and for a moment I hoped I could drop death right then and there rather than face what would probably be accusations why I was staring and if I’m some stalker. However, the sweet smile of his never left his face even for a moment, his eyes told me showed me a sense of want, maybe even a sort of hunger. It would have been terrifying if it hadn’t been for that damn smile of his.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m Kol Mikaelson.” An accent. Kol Mikaelson. His name rolled off my tongue like the name of some foreign dish at a five star restaurant. Everything about him screamed elegance, almost royalty. My heartbeat picked up and by the amused grin on his face, I thought that he could tell, that he could hear my heart pounding in my chest, but that was impossible; I’m sure my face was as red as a tomato or something.

“Uh, hi there, I’m Y/N…sorry for staring…I was just interested in your book.” His grin grew wider obviously sensing my lie, the way he was staring me down was nauseating but somehow in a good way. I tried to think of the way he smelled and the words he said to me, because his words were always wise, well thought out phrases. After those brief moments, I bumped into him everywhere, at the train station, my favorite restaurants, even the opera my mother insisted on going to. Maybe he was always here and I just hadn’t noticed him, and yet deep down I knew that this couldn’t be a coincidence. Maybe it was fate.

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anakins-skywalkr  asked:

a klaus/caroline/loki love triangle for your mini drabble thing-y? please please please i'll literally do anything i'm thirsty for this :')

Possibly an unpopular opinion but Thor is my favourite corner of the Marvel universe! I’ve thought of this scenario before but never had the opportunity to test it out, so thank you! I limited myself to 45 minutes for these things but I hope it works! 

A Certain Type of Man

Klaus almost doesn’t answer his phone. An unknown number rarely means good things. It’s not as though he’s free with his information. All the better to prevent every upstart witch or bitter vampire with a grudge from thinking that he cares about whatever petty grudge they have and the doubtlessly shoddy plotting they’re doing.

It does get tedious, witnessing so many failures.

He’s just landed in Amsterdam and has sent a compelled human to stow his things in his hotel. It’s not as if he has anything better to do at the moment.

He lets the call connect, drawls out a bored, “Hello.”

Immediately hears a rush of air, a relieved sigh spilling across the line, and a woman’s voice that he has no trouble placing, “Oh, thank god. I had no idea if your number was still the same and no idea how to track you down.”

Klaus pauses, throws a harsh glare at the man who nearly plows into him, “Caroline. A pleasure. How long has it been?”

He has no trouble imagining the rolling of her eyes, the impatient set of her brows. “Cut the crap, Klaus. You know exactly how long it’s been.”

He does. She’d stopped by New Orleans twelve years ago fresh off a tour of Europe, bright eyed and bursting with stories and questions. They’d had dinner, many many drinks. Watching her speak, gesticulate wildly and laugh without any hesitance remains a favorite memory of Klaus’. He’d done his very best to coax her into a longer stay, and though her eyes had lingered on his mouth and her body had swayed closer to his than strictly appropriate Caroline had refused to be tempted.

Still so very stubborn, her will an iron thing. And though he’d always found it part of her charm Klaus had been pleased to see a softening, however slight it had been. Once upon a time she’d not have dawdled at a table with him, would have taken off the instant she felt she could. He took it as a victory. An indication that one day he’d be successful.

She’d left in the morning. With a hug and a promise to see him around before she’d headed back to Mystic Falls to pay her respects to her parents and drop in on the Bennett witch. Her plan had been to head to South America next and he’s heard reports from various contacts that she’d spent a number of years there before leaving again. Whispers of her whereabouts had been few and far between ever since.

He realizes he’s taken too long to respond, and that Caroline’s breaths are anxious, harsh and too fast. He can hear her moving about, shuffles and the odd thumps. He begins walking again, more alert. He has no idea why she’d be nervous, he’s always made it clear that he welcomes hearing from her. “It’s been longer than I’d like, I must admit. Where are you, love?”

“New York, but I’m leaving. Like, right now.”

Klaus’ eyes narrow, “Are you in trouble, Caroline?”

Her motions still and her voice comes out resigned, “I’m so sorry, Klaus. I really hate that I’m calling you like this but I have no better option. I am in way over my head.”

“What happened?” Klaus clips out. They’ll deal with the apologies later, once he’s assured her safety.

“Well, it all started when I met this guy…”

He grits his teeth, forces himself not to shatter the phone in his hand. “And…”

“And in the beginning it was great. He was charming, educated, witty. Even had an accent.”

Not something Klaus needs to know. He pushes past the flash of jealousy, the twitching of his fingers that ugres violence. “Sounds like quite the catch.”

“On paper, yep. Until I found out he was chock full of issues.”

“Issues?” Klaus questions.

“Yeah. Who knew I was a beacon for megalomaniacs with daddy issues and way too much power to deal with them normally? I’d have suggested therapy but then I found out he’s not exactly human. And super old do I figured it would be useless.”

“You couldn’t tell he was a vampire?” Klaus asks incredulously. He finds it hard to believe. Caroline’s always been clever, and is closing in on half a century of vampirism.

She huffs, sounding offended. “Of course I could’ve. He isn’t a vampire. He’s an alien. Technically. Though he prefers to be thought of as a god. I wasn’t exaggerating about the issues.”

Klaus finds himself halting again, blinking in confusion. He’s never heard any concrete evidence that other beings exist but he’s always allowed for the possibility given the universes vastness and the tentative steps humans have made to explore it. “An alien,” he repeats.

“Yeah, shocked me too. And hey, I don’t like to discriminate but he seems to think I should accompany him to Asgard, wherever the hell that is. Isn’t being all that understanding about the fact that I’m pretty fond of Earth.”

Klaus happened to be quite fond of Caroline being on earth, would do anything in his power to ensure she stayed within his reach. “What do you need?”

“To hide. He’s going to get called back in like a month. I need a witch. A powerful one since this guy’s no stranger to magic. I don’t want to drag Bonnie into this. She’s got her hands full with teenage baby witches.”

Klaus nods, already making a mental list. “You’re packing?”

“Not well but I’ve got the basics together.”

“Find a car. Not one you’ve ever been in before. Compel whatever human you steal it from not to miss it and drive out of the city. I’ll text you directions to a private airstrip. A plane will be waiting. By the time you’ve landed I’ll have a witch who can hide you.”

She seems calmer, and Klaus is glad. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “Where am I going?”

“You’re coming to me, love,” Klaus tells her. And he’ll not hear any arguments about it.

“Probably smart. Since you’re the most powerful being on earth.”

She’d clearly mocking him, her voice having dipped low and teasing. Klaus ignores it, “Precisely. I’ll see you soon, Caroline.”

She thanks him again before she says goodbye and Klaus changes course, heading back to the airport, head down as he sends texts to get things arranged. He knows just the witch to contact, will call in a favor he’s been saving for a very long time.

Caroline, and the month they’ll spend together (more if he can manage it) waiting for her too persistent suitor to depart, is worth it.