those sparkling smiling eyes

“Well hello beautiful, you know it’s dangerous to be out alone.”

You raise your eyebrow, “Dangerous?”

“Who knows what might get you.” Loki murmurs, his breath tickling the hair on the back of your neck.

“Someone like you?”

Loki smiles wickedly, revealing sharp teeth, “Oh definitely.”

Six Weeks

Fandom: Marvel/Avengers

Character/Ship: Steve Rogers x Pregnant!Reader

Warning: So much fluff

Writer: Cas

Words: 468

Requested by: Anon on @thefandomimagine

Summary: Y/N tells Steve that she’s pregnant after he finally comes home from a long mission

[Based off of:] http://thefandomimagine.tumblr.com/post/160269943629/submitted-by-anonymous

Author’s Note: Wrote this at State Music Festival! My ensemble did really well and I had fun!!!

Originally posted by theimpossibleg1rl


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Miscommunication

Pairing: Thomas Brodie-Sangster x Reader

Request: You’re part of the TMR cast. Thomas is constantly flirting with you and you flirt back, but, he sees you be more physical with Dylan (piggy back ride, hug) but Dylan is your cousin. - @eyeliveinabook

Thomas’ POV:

Gosh. There she is. Does she have any idea what she does to me? She’s so freaking adorable. With those sparkling (e/c) eyes. And that smile! Dang she’s perfect… AND SHE’S WALKING TOWARDS ME. Ok. Calm down. You’re cool. You got this Tom.

3rd Person:

“Hey Tom!” You greeted your friends with a smile and a wink. You were holding a small character role in The Maze Runner series. Thomas Sangster, you’re celebrity crush, just so happened to be there and you two seemed to hit it off quite well.

“H-hey (y/n)! You’re looking adorable today. Of course, when do you not?” “Thank you kind sir. You don’t look so rough, yourself. I saw you from across the room and thought, ‘Tom looks extra handsome today. He must be trying to impress someone.’

You gave your now blushing friend a flirty wink and started walking to your set.

“Don’t wear yourself out, babe. You’ll need enough energy for what we’re doing later.”

Now it was your turn to blush as you heard Thomas chuckling behind you. You didn’t care to look back just yet.


“ONWARD MY TRUSTY STEED! TO THE SNACKS!”

You were currently riding on Dylan O’Brien’s back pretending he was your horse.

“LET US FEAST ON DORITOS AND ARNOLD PALMER!” “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” You’re ‘horse; came to a stop.

“..what?” “We need popcorn, too!” “I thought that was implied..” “Oh.. THEN ONWARD!”

Thomas POV:

I heard incredibly loud screams and laughs coming from the other side of the set. I looked over to the noise and saw (y/n) and Dylan goofing off while she was on his back. Hold on. When did Dylan and (y/n) become so close? Another peal of laughter traveled over and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I marched over to my friends and made sure they knew I was there.

“Ahem!”

They barely caught themselves as they fumbled around, trying to regain balance. Failing to do so, they fell on a heap on top of each other, roaring with laughter.

“Oh, hey Tommy! Dylan and I were just goofing around. Hope we weren’t being a nuisance.” “Oh no you were. Its kind of hard to focus when two people are screaming when you’re trying to work.”

I heard the giggles stop as I began walking away from the Dyl and (n/n). Entering my trailer, not a moment after, I heard knocks sound from the door.

“Thomas?”

I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh. I can’t stay mad at her. She must know that. I paced to the door and composed myself to try and seem mad at her.

I flung the door open, “What?” “Hey I just came to check on you. You kind of seemed upset before and I wanted to make sure you were ok?”

Her statement came out as more of a question. It was endearing that she cared enough about me to come check on me. Then I remembered her and Dylan running around laughing.

“I’m fine.” “Now you and I both know that’s not true.”

She pushed her way past me and into my trailer. Sitting herself down on a bench, it didn’t seem like she was going to move.

“Sit,” she commanded me. “What’s going on?”

Plopping myself down next to her, I let go of what’s been bugging me. “I don’t exactly like the idea of you and Dylan. I know you have the choice to go out with whoever you want to, but.. I was kind of hoping that guy would be me. I know it’s stupid, but, getting to know you has been one of the best parts about this role. You can leave. I.. I understand.”

“…wait, what? That’s what this is about? Sweetheart, Dyl is my cousin.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did I felt super embarrassed about my overreaction.

“(y/n). I’m so sorry I..” “Hey, it’s fine. We all make mistakes.. besides. I’m more into British guys anyway..”

When her words registered, I jumped up and faced her with wide eyes.

“So does that mean ‘yes’?” “Yes that I’ll go out with you? Yes. Yes that I’m in love with my cousin? That’d be a no.”

I picked her up and hugged her, squeezing her with all I had.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“It’s nothing, really. But can you please let me go? I can’t exactly breathe..”

The One, Part 8

Jim Kirk x Reader

Warnings: angst.

Summary: It had been years since you had last since Jimmy. The two of you were highschool sweethearts, until you parted ways. After a horrible breakup with your two timing ex-fiance, you transfer to the U.S.S Enterprise. Finally coming face to face with the boy you left behind. Can the two of you work alongside each other in peace? Or will the past come back to haunt you?  The One Masterlist

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One day, one rhyme- Day 1168

A happy, silly Aussie girl
Who lives in a poetic swirl
For just one day felt like a queen
And rose on feathered wings of green
Into a fluffy clouded sky
With happy smile and sparkling eye,
Thanks to all those who take the time
To read the things she writes in rhyme.


Thanks everyone for reading and liking my rhymes, and thanks for the birthday messages and rhymes. You are all amazing and made my birthday the greatest one yet! I hope you’re all having amazing days, you all deserve them! 💚 Please help yourselves to emoji cake and balloons! 🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈🍰🎈

Saving Throw

AO3

Rating: T

Summary: Ford struggles with his mistakes, what ifs and what could have beens. But luckily he has someone to remind him that accidents happen and things work out in the end. (Set around D,D&MD)

AN: Present for @lockholmes​. It took me a while but it’s finally here ^o^ I hope you like it ♥

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The Absence of Blame: A Castle Fic

Prompted by @inkstainedcoffeecup: In 8x12 ‘The Blame Game’, one of them is injured in the final room.

It goes wrong so suddenly that she doesn’t even notice. 

She’s too focused on getting the gun away, on subduing Brandon before he can do something to hurt one of them that the ding of the bullet against metal escapes her entirely. The groan of pain is muffled against her struggle for the gun, the thud of a body onto the floor disguised by Brandon’s own trip onto the unforgiving concrete. 

It’s only the flare of surprise in the mastermind’s eyes that alert her to anything being amiss, that bright flicker followed by a twinkle of pleasure that sends her stomach rolling with anxiety. 

Training demands that she keep the gun pointed on her suspect, just as it begins to bleed through the rush of adrenaline at living to survive for another day and tell her that something has gone horribly, drastically wrong. 

The absence of movement, the gasping intake of a breath, a groan that isn’t quite muffled enough in the room. The dark, wet patch that teases at the corner of her vision, a steady spread over one of countless dress shirts that her fingers have touched over the years. 

Her heart leaps into her throat, panic at war with the rest of her. Instinct and fear for her husband demand that she put down the gun and rush to his side, but her training won’t allow it. She cannot be a wife, not yet. For a few minutes she has to be a cop, to neutralize the threat and give herself and Castle the best chance for survival. 

Not that it stops the whimper from slipping out of her mouth. The tears are still pricking at her eyes, a swell of regret and guilt held in the whisper of his given name on her lips. 

This is her fault. She should have been faster, should have lunged sooner and grabbed the gun before Brandon could ever fire off a shot. 

The guy is still sitting on the floor, docile and content. The horror rises up like a tidal wave, crashing into Kate with a force that’s replaced with swift rage. He’s grinning, eyes riveting to the man bleeding out from a wound that she’s not quite managed to look at. He’s grinning and proud of what he’s done, proud that he’s managed to hurt at least one of them. 

She lifts the rifle before it’s really a conscious thought, anger slicing her open with white hot fingers that are insistent on meeting violence with violence. She could pistol whip him in a second, leave him out cold and buy herself time to attend to her husband. For that matter, she could shoot him point blank and ensure no one has to deal with Brandon again.

Kate resists both ideas, ignoring the tug that demands retribution and the steadily growing grief of a wife who might be forced to watch her husband slip away. 

She won’t think about it. Can’t think about it. This can’t be where it ends, with the two of them locked in a room with a sociopath with a perchance for mind games while they’re still separated and, by sheer avoidance towards the subject, on the path to a divorce in the minds of most people. 

It can’t end like this, not when she has so much to make up for. Not when they have so many things left to share. 

“Get up,” she growls, kicking out towards Brandon’s feet to urge him from the floor. His hesitation snaps the fragile band of her patience, further tests her tolerance about manhandling the man that shot her husband, and she reaches out to haul him from the floor herself, adrenaline and sheer strength ensuring that he rises to his feet with relative ease. “You walk over there and you stand with your back against the wall.” 

The push is unnecessary, but it makes her feel better nonetheless, that physical display siphoning off enough of her rage that Kate can find her focus. Brandon goes without complaint, those eyes still fever bright when she kneels beside Castle, fumbling with one hand to loosen the belt that’s fastened at his waist. 

It tugs at her heart that there is no wry grin or teasing come on about where her hands are while they work at undoing the leather strap. Rick should be smiling at her, those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with that ridiculous combination of mischief, love, and lust that always manages to do it for her.

She tries not to think about how pale he is, how still he remains as the pool of blood grows while she works the belt through the loops, freeing it from the constraints of his pants with a bit of pushing and shoving. There is some comfort that there is no blood underneath his body, the bullet plugging the wound that seems to be embedded in his shoulder. Not life threatening, not unless he bleeds out before help comes. 

Help has to come. It has to. 

“Turn around,” she orders to Brandon, gun in one hand and the belt in the other. It takes another shove with the hand containing the accessory to get him to turn, the man’s chest smacking with a bit too much force into the wall. But Kate ties his hands with the belt, wrapping and knotting a configuration that would take some work to get himself out of. 

He sits without being instructed, back to the docile person that he’d pretended to be before the final room and their complete disregard for his rules. 

Maybe, on some level, that’s who he is. The man underneath all the damage and anger over the choices his parents made. 

She can’t focus on it. There just isn’t enough room in her heart and her mind to worry about the actions of a man who will soon spend the rest of his life in some form of imprisonment, be it Rikers or a mental facility. All she can think about is Rick, of how he’s beginning to stir from his spot on the floor, mouth contorted in a pain that she understands far too well. 

“Hey, babe, it’s okay,” she’s kneeling at his side in an instant, fingers gentle and soothing through the mussed strands of his hair. “I’m right here, you’re gonna be okay. Just stay calm….help is coming, Rick. You’re gonna be fine….” 

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Bad Ideas (Chapter Five)

Welcome back! If you are missing any chapters, check out the MASTERLIST!

****************
“Sweet cheeks?” Wade called, wandering through the office and garage. “Oh there they are.” He tilted his head and just stared at that long, lean body bent over the hood of a car replacing a battery. “I missed you boys, been hiding in an office chair for like weeks and–”

“Wade.” Peter straightened and grinned. “Stop talking to my ass. What do you want?”

“You almost done?” Wade tilted his head and made a point of trying to crane his neck around to see Peter’s butt again.

“Yeah man, just about. Two minutes if you’d just leave me alone and let me finish. What’s up?”

“It’s time for a grocery run in town unless you want baking soda and crackers for dinner. You wanna come?”

“Uh–” Peter thought for a minute, trying figure out what else needed to be done before they could close the shop. He was pretty sure all the paperwork was done, and this car wasn’t being picked up until late tomorrow. So–

“I could use my hand, or my mouth or—” Wade was talking but shut up when Peter’s eyes bugged out.

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anonymous asked:

Okay but Prompto and his soulmate kissing for the first time, and he has this happy lil dazed smile after they part. He can't help the 'whoooa' that slips past his lips, those beautiful blue eyes sparkling and smile wide. Prompto’s kind of giggling, making them nervously laugh if it was okay. Like being kissed by an angel, in that sincerely awed voice of his. It's hard to tell who's blushing more after a comment like that, but one thing is for certain--the kisses don't stop for long.

Prompto is honestly so cute and I love these soulmate HCs you guys are sending me 😍

Let me fix you | YoonKook

Originally posted by kookiesforjimin

Pairing: Jungkook x Yoongi

Genre: Angst, Drabble, Jungkook POV

Word count: 504

A/N: Just a little something that crossed my mind and decided to write it down

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Turn loose the mermaids(Part 17)

Here, have some more fluff before shit gets real.

First | Next


Chat never truly believe paradise was real. At least, not until he woke up basking in the warmth, surrounded by a lovely scent of sea and sweetness and with a chest pressed against his own, hearts beating in harmony. With a smile, he tightened his hold around Marinette’s waist and opened his eyes slowly. He was welcomed by those sparkling blue eyes looking at him and a small smile.

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Perfect

(This is for my bigger girls only because the size I’ve put in this is around my own weight, possibly, idk I haven’t weighed myself in a year or so but the weight in this story is: 300lbs, so if you’re under this or a lot smaller you may not get the right feel so I’m just warning everyone so you know before you read this and don’t get offended or anything, because this imagine is based on the bigger girls like myself. Plus Size Lovin’ here!  

Being a bigger girl definitely had it’s drawbacks. For example: Running. You hated running. Not because of how breathless it could leave you, no, but because of how you felt looked while doing. Also, injuries. Getting injuries on your body was a big pain, no pun intended, because unlike someone small, you didn’t feel you were able to just take off your shirt and let someone else work on your stomach or chest to deal with your wound. No, you had to go in complete privacy and do it yourself, which often proved difficult when you’re drifting in and out of consciousness or can’t reach your injury properly. Also, there was the simple things: Not feeling like you could put your hair up out of your face because you felt like you needed to hide, which also proved a pain in the ass at any time; You didn’t like having your hair in your face. But, you dealt with it. Also, not feeling like you could go without makeup and practically having a panic attack when it came off. You felt makeup made you look at least half decent and in rain or hunting or anything else, it often proved a tragedy to have it smudged or come off or be seen without it. Another thing was clothes. You didn’t feel you could throw on anything and leave, like the skinny girls could. No, for you it was harder, you had to think carefully and avoid many different types of clothes and only wear certain things to look at least okay. Yes, it was easy to say not being skinny was very hard. 300 pounds wasn’t unbearable to some, but to you, and most of the world, it was big enough. Too big. 

This never seemed to be the case for Dean or Sam Winchester. Yes, you were a hunter. Shocking for your size. And yet, when you met the two brothers on a hard hunt one night, you were astounded to find they treated you as they did anyone else. They paid absolutely no mind to your weight. It certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, especially from two guys who looked like Greek Gods. But, it was how they were. Weight meant nothing to them and your size never once made them treat you at all differently. Sam was like the older brother. And Dean? Dean was your best friend, but, you may have had a crush on him. Okay, you may have fell for him, but you were smart enough to keep it hidden and to yourself. The boys weren’t oblivious to your self esteem issues, they knew. They heard you muttering angrily to yourself sometimes, the sad looks you’d cast at skinny girls, the way you’d always pull a disgusted face at your reflection. They tried to help. Always mentioned how pretty you looked, how nice your makeup looked or how a certain top really flattered you. Dean especially, because, despite your denial, Dean had fell for you too. Hard. He hated knowing how you felt about yourself, and always tried to help, to make you see yourself how he saw you, but he knew it never worked. 

It was after a fairly easy hunt you and the boys decided to go to a bar for a few drinks before you headed to the motel. You were reluctant at first; you didn’t like bars, but were persuaded into it by the boys. And now, you were stood at the boor, ordering the second round of drinks, when a guy came up to you. 

“Hi baby, wanna come home with me? I heard girls like you have more cushion for the pushin’”  His voice was slurred, he was clearly wasted, and he looked at least in his late 40′s. 

You grimaced, frowning “No thanks, you should just go home.” 

He didn’t seem to like that “Excuse me? You hideous, ungrateful bitch! I was doing you a favor! No one else is gonna wanna sleep with you! You fat bitches always think your so high and mighty, above everyone else, when really, you’re just disgusting!”  He was yelling loud enough for half the bar to hear. 

Despite usually being able to either defend yourself or ignore, you were just too tired and broken down to do either, and so, the tears started flowing like niagra down your face, never stopping. You sniffed, placing money on the bar for the drinks and running out, ignoring the sound of the clattering and loud yelling inside. You made your way to a bench in the park, it was empty and the solitude suited you just fine right now. You wiped your tears, at this moment not caring about your makeup: You were honestly past the point of caring at all, you didn’t know why you bothered trying, the guy was right. You sat on the bench, crying quietly as the cold wind whipped around you. There was nothing but silence for a while, before you heard Dean calling your name from behind you. 

You frowned, but didn’t turn his way. “I’m fine, Dean! Go back! I’m going back to the motel in a bit!” You didn’t want him to see you. 

Dean frowned, sitting next to you, his knuckles bloody from where he’d beaten the guy unconscious. “Y/N, look at me. Don’t listen to a goddamn  word he says, you hear me? He’s wrong. He’s just a prick who didn’t like the fact you were too good for him and he couldn’t get you. Don’t you dare believe a word that son of a bitch says, or anyone else, for that matter. Hear me? Hey, look at me. Look at me.” He pulls your face to his, wiping your tears, smiling softly, gazing at you “You’re so perfect… You were made this way for a reason. God doesn’t make mistakes. You’re absolutely perfect how you are. Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning. Whoever says different is jealous and wrong…. You’re amazing and I love you the way you are.” 

You gaped, your eyes wide “You… What?…” 

Dean smiled, caressing your face gently “I love you. I have since I first saw you. And I swear, if you’ll let me, I’ll prove to you everyday just how perfect you are” 

And all you could do was smile, because in that moment, looking in those sparkling green eyes, you believed him. You saw no lies, no doubt, no sympathy or guilt. He loved you and really did believe you were perfect, and then, as he kissed you, you really did feel beautiful. You never doubted it again. 

Thunderstorms

You can read it here.

_________________________________________________

Fareeha quirked an eyebrow, gesturing to Angela’s soaked attire. “You look like you need an umbrella.”

Angela found her voice again. “A bit too late for that wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe.” Fareeha tried to suppress a forming smirk. “It’s a beautiful day though don’t you think?”

Blue eyes focused on Fareeha, watching as the smirk slowly became a contented smile, sparkling wonder returning to those gentle brown eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

Playing the game

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean thinks of you only as a friend. That is, until one night he takes you to a bar and sees how other guys act around you…

Word Count: ~1,100

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smut adjacent

A/N: This one has been bouncing around in my mind in a bit, I thought I’d give it some life. Enjoy! xx


“Alright, alright,” Dean held his hands up and conceded. “I get it, I never buy the rounds. You got me. This one’s on me,” he sighed and turned before pausing and throwing over his shoulder a sarcastic, “don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He saunters over the bar and preparing to order three El Sols when he hears her laughter ripple through the smokey air. It was like a fresh breath to him and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. That is, until he saw Sam in the back corner of the bar, heading to the bathroom. If he hadn’t made her laugh…

Dean’s head whipped around and time seemingly slowed as he watched her there in her element: Her head tossed back, perfect lips peeled back over her white teeth, letting out a laugh that made her long, wavy hair sway gently as her head moved. 

Dean snapped back to reality, realizing she’d caused his mind to drift yet again. 

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8

“Diana was the very essence of compassion, of duty, of style, of beauty. All over the world she was a symbol of selfless humanity. All over the world, a standard bearer for the rights of the truly downtrodden, a very British girl who transcended nationality. Someone with a natural nobility who was classless and who proved in the last year that she needed no royal title to continue to generate her particular brand of magic …

There is a temptation to rush to canonise your [Diana’s] memory, there is no need to do so. You stand tall enough as a human being of unique qualities not to need to be seen as a saint. Indeed to sanctify your memory would be to miss out on the very core of your being, your wonderfully mischievous sense of humour with a laugh that bent you double.

Your joy for life transmitted where ever you took your smile and the sparkle in those unforgettable eyes. Your boundless energy which you could barely contain. But your greatest gift was your intuition and it was a gift you used wisely. This is what underpinned all your other wonderful attributes and if we look to analyse what it was about you that had such a wide appeal we find it in your instinctive feel for what was really important in all our lives …

I would like to end by thanking God for the small mercies he has shown us at this dreadful time. For taking Diana at her most beautiful and radiant and when she had joy in her private life. Above all we give thanks for the life of a woman I am so proud to be able to call my sister, the unique, the complex, the extraordinary and irreplaceable Diana whose beauty, both internal and external, will never be extinguished from our minds.“ || Charles Spencer speaking at the funeral of his sister, Diana, Princess of Wales.

Meme.

Gellert slowly walked towards Tom. Giving him a seductive smile, his eyes sparkling like those of a shark, he slowly rose a hand and combed Tom’s cheek, massaging his neck. Leaning closer, his aura washed over the boy as he sealed their lips with a heated kiss.

Baby Photos -Derek Hale Imagine

Originally posted by hoechlder

A/N: Let’s pretend that werewolves can be photographed without the light shining on their faces. Hope you enjoy this little imagine and feedback is always appreciated!

Pairing: Reader x Derek Hale

Word Count: 1023

Warnings: Mention of loss ( death)

“It should be in the back somewhere” Derek explains as he and Y/N searches through the attic, looking for the old movie. 

“I can’t understand why you hid it up here in the first place” Y/N says as she accidentally walk right into a large spiderweb in the left corner of the dark room. She tries to remove the web but It doesn’t get off. She waves her arms in the air and suddenly she bumps into the old wardrobe standing next to her. A small box falls down onto the floor with a thud which causes Y/N to jump in surprise.

 "What is this?“ She asks, picking up the box. It’s dusty and a little burned in some places but overall it looks fine. She opens it and immediately smiles when she realizes what it is.

 "Oh my God, Derek why haven’t you showed me these before?” She squeals as she holds up one of the pictures to show her boyfriend. Derek turns towards her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“I didn’t know I still had those” He admits. “I thought they we’re distroyed in the fire” Y/N looks closer at the photo. Derek is sitting on the lawn, playing with a toy car. He doesn’t look older than 5.

 "You look so grumpy" Y/N giggles. “I guess you were a sourwolf from the beginning” Derek doesn’t seem amused, instead he just huffs in annoyance. She puts the photo back into the box.

 "Aw and look at this one" She points at the photo in which he is sleeping next to a stuffed wolf. “You were such a cute baby, grumpy but cute” Y/N says, looking up at her boyfriend. Derek scoffs. 

“Don’t you want to find that movie?” He asks, clearly trying to get her away from the photos. 

“No, I need to see these, they are so cute!” Y/N says, taking a few steps away from him. Derek sighs. 


Y/N puts the box down on the kitchentable, before she grabs all of the photos and places them all over the table. Derek watches as she goes thorugh them, a smile plastered on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. He loves that smile and those gorgeous blue eyes that reminds him of the sea. He loves how she bites her tongue while concentrating and that face she makes when she gets confused. He loves her and all the things she does.  Y/N studies the pictures and all of the memories they hold, thinking back at how much Derek has lost in his life. She smiles when she sees his older sister, Laura in a few of the photos. She is pushing Derek on the swings, the sun shining in the background. Y/N bites her lip, Derek noticing her sudden change of emotions. 

“Babe, are you alright?” He asks, taking a few steps closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“It just makes me sad, you know.” She says. “You’ve lost so many people” she whispers, a tear running down her face. Y/N hadn’t lost a single one of her family, and she couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to go through that. Derek puts his other arm around her and places a light kiss on her forehead. 

“It was a long time ago” He says as she leans her head on his shoulder. “And I haven’t lost everyone, I still got you.” He whispers. Y/N hugs him tighter.

“I’m sorry” she says. “I’m sorry that this happened to you" 

"It’s not your fault” He answers softly. “Come on, let’s take another look on these photos shall we?” Y/N nods, as Derek wipes the tear away from her cheek with his thumb. Y/N looks back at the table and spots a photo she hasn’t seen yet. She grabs it and giggles, looking at a young Derek sitting in the sandbox with his arms crossed. 

“I’m starting to believe that you didn’t like being photographed ” she chuckles, showing Derek the picture of himself. Derek smiles. 

“I guess I didn’t" 

"I have to show these to the pack!” Y/N says, sending Derek a teasing smile. “I think they will find you really adorable” Derek gives her a warning glare.

 "Y/N" He starts. “You wouldn’t dare" 

"But you’re wrong, I would” She winks. Derek growls causing Y/N to squeal as she runs towards the livingroom, her boyfriend following her. 

“Y/N you can’t show the pack those” Derek calls as he chases her around the house. Y/N laughs. She turns around the corner to the kitchen, almost bumping into Derek, who somehow appears right in front of her. She screams as she turns the other way, Derek’s arms reaching after her. He grabs her arm and pulls her towards him, while she tries to get free. 

“You can’t show them” He says. 

“You can’t make me” She replies, smiling at him. 

“I’m afraid you give me no choice, I’m sorry Y/N” He says before he starts tickling her. Y/N squeals  in surprise before she starts to laugh. 

“Say you won’t do it” He says. 

“No” Y/N laughs.

 "Say it!“ He orders.

 "Never!” She screams as she wiggles free and sprints to the livingroom. Derek chases after her again. Y/N looks behind her to see if he’s close when she slips on the rug and falls with her butt first on the floor. She lets out a small groan.

 "Are you okay?“ Derek asks, looking down at her with raised eyebrows.

 "My butt hurts” Y/N complaines, frowning. 

“Let me help you up” Derek chuckles, offering her a hand. She takes it and he helps her up on her feet again. “You shouldn’t run inside” He says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“You sound just like my mother” she replies. 

“I bet your mother wouldn’t do this” he says before leaning in. Y/N closes her eyes as their lips meet in a soft kiss. She smiles as they break apart. 

“I’m still showing them the photos”

Tuesday’s Gift

The wind blew a warm breeze across my face, as it did every Tuesday. I opened my eyes to an ice cream truck being swarmed with kids and their paying parents. Sun rays cast over their smiling faces, while they glossed over the menu to decide what they wanted. I turned away and found a vacant bench that faced the playground. There were more children running and laughing, as they bounced from one equipment to the next. I did quick scans of the slides and swings, until I saw a head full of dark curls bounce wildly as she ran to the monkey bars. I smiled. She is so energetic and carefree just like I was at her age. Her laughter filled the air and hugged me tightly, while I watched her win in a monkey bar race. The other kids cheered for her and her opponent shook her hand in good sportsmanship. How cute. 

“Mommy, did you see me?!” She yelled, as she ran towards me.
I beamed a wide smile. “Yes, baby I did! You were awesome.” I brought her in for a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
She snuggled into my neck. “Thank you.” She pulled back, “Danny said that he could beat me because I’m a girl, but I showed him!”
“Indeed you did, my love! Remember what daddy says, ‘Anything boys can do, girls can do better.’” I wink.
She grins, “Where is he?”
“He couldn’t make it today. He’s been working a lot more lately and he’s always tired.” I place her on my lap, running my hands through her soft curls. “But he’ll come next time, okay?”
She lays on my shoulder and nods. “Okay.” Her hand smooths over my stomach. “How’s my sister?”
I toss my head back, chuckling. “You’re the second person to say it’s a girl! What makes you so sure?” I wrap my arms around her.
“Because I just know!” She rubs my stomach. “Will she look like me?” Her voice had a hint of melancholy.
“Do you want her to look like you?”
She nods.
I tip her chin up. “Then she will look like you.” I lay a kiss on her rosy nose.
Her rich, brown eyes stared into mines. “Mommy, how are you?”
I almost felt a lump in my throat, but managed to keep it from forming. “Sweetheart, don’t make me lie to you.” A tear managed to escape from my left eye, as I tried to laugh.
“You don’t have to.” Her sullen voice said.
“Well”, I breathe, “I have my sad days, my lonely days, and my tough days. But I have good ones as well. I try to smile and laugh as much as I can.” My eyes were now blurry from the rush of tears forming. “I miss my baby. I miss you so much that it hurts so bad!”
Her hands reached my face, as she tried to catch every tear that fell. “It’s okay, mommy. Don’t cry! No, no, no, don’t cry! You said you wouldn’t!”
I try to get myself together, remembering that promise I made. “I’m sorry, baby girl!” I faintly chuckle, “You’re right.”
She leans in to connect our foreheads and noses together. “Remember that you’re supposed to be strong for me. And daddy. And my sister.”
I slightly nod, sniffing away that ache. “I know, I know. And I will. But that doesn’t mean it’s that easy.”
“Cheyenne!”
I looked up to see Danny, her opponent, run towards the middle of the playground. His short blond hair moved briskly, in the sudden cool breeze.
“Cheyenne! We have to go now!”
She broke our contact, turning towards him. “Okay, I’ll be right there!”
When she hops down, I stand up and grab her hand. “I’ll walk you to your friend.”
She turned towards me with a surprised look. “Oh no, you can’t mommy! You have to stay here.”
My heart was filled with that ache again. “But it’s only a short walk, I can —”
“Stay here, mommy.” She said slowly, “You have to stay here.”
“I don’t have to! I can go with you!” My voice was cracking. “Please don’t go.” I whispered, as I picked her up into a big hug. “Don’t go.”
Her little arms squeezed me as hard as they could. “I have to, but I’ll be back. You know I’ll always be here waiting for you and daddy.”
“Just let me go with you, please.”
She shook her head. “Not today, mommy.”
“Cheyenne, we have to go now!” Danny called out to her again.
Her lips kissed my stained cheek. “Let me go now.” She grins, as I hesitantly put her down. “I love you so much, Cheyenne. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you more, mommy. "She walks towards the playground, then halts. "Tell daddy to stop walking away, he’s a big jerk for that!” She jogs toward Danny, who quickly grabs her hand. “See ya later!”
I manage to smile. “See ya later, baby girl.” I watched her and Danny swiftly vanish, as they ran towards the other end of the playground.

My lids flew open, my heart was pounding a beat faster. The darkness blanketed me, as I rose from the bed. I could feel wetness on my face from crying. I peaked at the bed, seeing Joe tussle around on his side trying to get comfortable. I walked into the kitchen, heading for the stove to heat up the teapot. After grabbing a peppermint green teabag from its can and placing it in a mug, I sat down carefully at the island. 

My nine year-old daughter had been gone for almost two years now, but that pain is still raw on my soul. All it took was a fatal case of pneumonia to destroy my perfect world. There isn’t a feeling worse than doing everything you can to save your child, only for them to still be taken away. 

And Joe… 

My husband was almost nonexistent after Cheyenne’s passing. It was as if he lost his best friend. He would barely talk, touch, or even look at me. She was a split replica of myself, from the dark brown eyes to the radiant smile. I knew how hard it was for him to come home to me, but he always reassured me that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’s still in love with me. So being told that every day is what kept me warm at night. It wasn’t until three months ago, when we found out that I was pregnant, that he snapped out of his spell. 

The tea kettle’s whistle sounded and I got up to fill my cup. The peppermint aroma soothed the air, as I stirred in some honey. 

“There you are,” Joe’s raspy voice broke the silence. “How long have you been up?”
I sit back down. “Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
He walks over to me, lifting my chin with his finger. “Carmen, you’ve been crying.” He stares into my red, swollen eyes. “Cheyenne?" 

I could only nod, as I felt another wave of tears form.  

"Come here.” Joe locks me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, baby.” His thumb swiped at the tears. “How is she?”
I sniff, “I’ve never seen an angel so beautiful.” I faintly smile. “She’s so happy, Joe.”
Those grey eyes sparkled at my words. “I bet she is. She deserves that happiness after what she went through.”
“I know,” I chuckle, “She’s excited for her new sister.” I gently stroke my pouty belly.
His hand covers mine, “If we’re lucky, she’ll look just like her.”
“That’s what she wants.” I notice Joe getting teary eyed. “Oh, babe." 

He puts his head down, moving his jaw around. The tanned pigment of his face was slowly turning red. I saw his shoulders tremble and I immediately brought him into a hug. The vibrations his shoulders spread throughout his core. I started to feel tears drop onto my neck, as they slid down my chest. 

"I miss her so much!” He muffled loudly into my neck. “I miss my baby girl, Carmen.”
I rubbed his back with one hand and cradled his head with the other. “I know you do, love. Believe me, I do.” I quietly spoke. 

Hearing Joe’s sobs, repeatedly shattered what’s left of me. It’s always hard telling him of my dream dates with Cheyenne, because I know of the overwhelming emotions they bring. Hence, why I’m almost always waking up from them with a fresh broken heart and the tears to match. 

I pull back from hugging him to stare intently in his reddened eyes. “You have to stop walking away, babe. She really wants to see you.” I wipe his face with my knuckle. “You’re a big jerk for that." 

Through his sadness, he managed to smile and left a long, warm peck on my lips.

The warm, Tuesday breeze circled around me, while the kids raced towards the ice cream truck with their parents. To my right, I could hear the joyous laughter from more kids. As I walked closer, I could see an empty bench facing the playground. A couple of steps back, I would’ve gotten cold feet and retraced my steps into the opposite direction. But not this time. It was my time to stop being a big jerk, and finally see my angel. Feeling my heart thump a beat faster, I pushed through my nervousness and sat down on the bench. I patiently watched some kids interact with each other on the swings, until I saw her. Immediately, she ran from the slide she slid from, smiling her mother’s smile as she approached me. I could feel my eyes water with a face splitting smile. 

"There you are, daddy!”
“Here I am, my Cheyenne.”

anonymous asked:

how would kise, haizaki, aomine try to prove to their crush that they are serious about them when their crush is hesitant in entering a relationship with them bc of their reputation as heart breakers?!?!

i think i got carried away in the wrong direction for this. im sorry. more characters under the cut!

AOMINE: “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snapped. You shrugged, “I just don’t know if you’re boyfriend material, Aomine.” He stared at you in confusion again. “I mean, you’ve got girls following you around wherever you go, plus I don’t think I fall into your… ideal type.” You cleared your throat. It wasn’t breaking news to anyone that Aomine obsessed over anyone with a great rack and in all honestly, you were just average, so you weren’t feeling too confident about it. Maybe you were just going to be another notch in his belt of ladies and you didn’t want that. He was a great guy and, as much as you’d love to date him, you didn’t think that he was ready for a serious relationship.

“Who the hell cares about that? Sure I like big boobs but, hey I think you’re hot enough already. Plus, you’re cool alright. I don’t care about all of that when I like you already so why are you worrying?”

“Because it matters to me, Aomine. How am I supposed to know you won’t ditch me for the next girl with big boobs who comes around?” You sighed. “Look, I just don’t think now’s the right time for both of us. I like you, I do. The only thing I’m worried about is your rep as a heartbreaker and I really don’t need another guy like that. I’m sorry.”

“You know what? I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see that I can be committed and that I won’t break your heart.”

And somehow, he did. For the next few days, he continued to stick around you, surprisingly enough. He paid no attention to his fangirls and even told some of them to scram when they got too touchy-touchy. Instead, he got touchy-touchy with you. He forced you to eat lunch on the roof with him where he’d ask you to feed him. “Oy, what do couples do anyway?” He grunted one afternoon, when he was lying on your lap. He opened his mouth again, silently asking for more food.

You dropped an egg roll into his mouth and watched him chew it quietly. You liked the way his lips moved, slowly and imagined those lips moving against yours. Oh God.

Suddenly he sat up and placed his hand on your forehead. “You okay? Getting too hot? Wanna go back inside?” Seeing the genuine concern etched upon his face, you felt your heart warm. You shook your head with an amused smile and he merely shot you a confused glance. He leaned his forehead against yours and, seeing your reaction, which was the sea of red that spread across your face, he smirked. “What? Getting embarrassed now?”

“Shut up, aho.” You shoved him away but he only ended up back on your lap again. Whenever he was with you, he focused solely on you and that was endearing on so many levels. Maybe this guy wasn’t such a heartbreaker after all.

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