Disney Song Starters:
  • “I think it’s time you and I arranged a heart to heart.”
  • “Check the grin, you’re in love.”
  • “The cold never bothered me anyway.”
  • “Reindeer are better than people.”  
  • “At least out loud I won’t say I’m in love.”
  • “Hey, [NAME], not in front of the kids!!”
  • “Don’t try to hide it.”
  • “Life’s full of tough choices, isn’t it?”
  • “Too bad you’re gonna miss the girl/boy.”
  • “I don’t see you anymore.”
  • “If you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you’ll learn things you never knew.”
  • “Help me not to make a fool of me.”
  • “Let me share this whole new world with you.”
  • “When did you last let your heart decide?” 
  • "You think the earth is just a dead thing you can claim.”
  • “You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you.”
  • “Why is my reflection someone I don’t know?”
  • “Hold your breath, it gets better.”
  • “I steal only what I can’t afford.”
  • “I can take a hint.”
  • “You’re my only friend [NAME].”
  • “I think it’s time you and I arranged a heart to heart.”
  • “I’m a sensitive soul, though I seem think skinned.”
  • “Hey, [NAME], not in front of the kids!!”
  • “Don’t try to hide it.”
  • “I’m a sensitive soul, though I seem thick skinned.”
  • “I’d blame parents except he/she/you/I haven’t got them.”
  • “Life’s full of tough choices, isn’t it?”
  • “Too bad you’re gonna miss the girl/boy.”
  • “Can you feel the love tonight?”
  • “Why was I a fool in school for cutting gym?”
  • “She/he don’t got a lot to say but there’s something about her/him.”  
  • “They weren’t kidding when they’d call me, well, a witch.”
  • “Don’t underestimate the importance of body language.”
  • “Now I really wish that I knew how to swim.”
  • “Go ahead, make your choice.”
  • “You/I don’t know why, but you’re/I’m dying to try. You/I wanna kiss the girl/boy.”
  • “Poor unfortunate souls in pain, in need.”
  • “Look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?”
  • “I won’t say I’m in love.”
  • “I wanna be where the people are.”
  • “Wish I could be part of that/your world.”
  • “I’m ready to know what the people know.”
  • “We feel a lot like cattle.”
  • “Our aching feet aren’t easy to ignore.”
  • “The only girl who’d love him is his mother.”
  • “If I were truly to be myself, I would break my family’s heart.”
  • “Must there be a secret me I’m forced to hide?”
  • “I can go the distance.”
  • “When will my reflection show who I am inside?”
  • “You’re the saddest bunch I’ve ever met.”
  • “Say goodbye to those who knew me.”
  • “Heed my every order and you might survive.”
  • “If there’s a prize for rotten judgement, I guess I’ve already one that.”
  • “Face it like a grown up.”
  • “Get off my case!”
  • “I won’t accept defeat.”
  • “I cannot hide who I am, though I’ve tried.”
  • “I have often dreamed of a far off place.”
  • “Don’t let them know.”
  • “It’s time to see what I can do.”
  • “I wanna be like you.”
  • “Well, I’ve seen worse.”
  • “I reached the top and had to stop and that’s what’s bothering me.”
  • “Do you want to build a snowman?”
  • “I’m right out here for you, just let me in.”
  • “You’ll bring honor to us all.”
  • “This is what you give me to work with?”  
12x12 Coda fic

Not beta-read and ridiculously late. 

This fic would probably have never seen the light of day without @thevioletcaptain​. It’s still not perfect, but it is the best I can make it for now :)

Title: Unending

Rating: G


I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,

That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

(Tagore, Unending Love)

“I don’t think you should be driving, Cas.” Sam’s voice is gentle as he opens the door, gesturing for Castiel to sit.

Castiel hesitates, but nods in agreement, fumbling for the keys of his truck. There’s a clanging noise from behind them as Dean tosses the pieces of Michael’s lance into the boot before slamming it shut.

“I’ll drive it back,” Dean says stiffly, snatching them from Castiel’s hands. He hands the Impala’s keys to Sam, striding toward the truck without so much as a backward glance.

Sam lets out an irritated huff, chivying Castiel into the car before heading towards Mary. The Impala is cold, and Castiel shivers a little as he slumps in his seat, his forehead resting on the glass. The numbness is creeping as he watches Dean disappear in a cloud of dust - the enormity of what had just happened, of what he had just said out loud slowly hitting him.

No wonder Dean couldn’t wait to leave.

He watches Sam hug Mary briefly before she heads toward her own car. She waves at Castiel and Sam as she’s pulling away, her smile strained.

“You okay Cas?” Sam asks him, as he turns the key in the ignition. He sounds distracted, the corners of his mouth turned down as he waves back at his mother.  

Castiel closes his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

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Live Tracks

The university on the fairy hill is bordered by a highway, a river, and a railroad.

The students usually come via the highway. Some miss the exit and keep driving, on to another college far away. Many more make a wrong turn on their way to Somewhere and end up in freshman orientation. But most know where they are going and drive in with little problem. New students move into their dorms and meet their roommates; they notice when “what’s your name?” is answered as if it is an attack. They exchange teary goodbyes with their parents. They learn the rules so that those goodbyes are not their last.

Legend says the Fae came from the woods across the river. They migrated to be closer to the school and the people in it, closer to this source of power and knowledge and occasionally food. When the dam broke and the river was formed, They could not return to the forest. They were trapped by both the water and the iron rails of the old train tracks, but They adapted well to the school. They had no reason to leave. Of course, there is the story of the girl with a fox’s tail and a back like a rotting log, dark and hollow and ridden with fungus, who fell in love with a psychology major. When the young woman graduated, the Fair girl left with her. She didn’t notice when her tail disappeared as they drove through the University’s gates. By the time the two reached the highway, the hole in the girl’s back had closed, leaving only a scar. (This story is not retold often. The Gentry are not fond of it.)

No one comes by train. The rails are rusty and, in some places, covered in earth. Thick shrubbery grows between the railroad ties. The old sign that reads LIVE TRACKS swings in the wind, and yet, it still stands as if it doesn’t know that its warning has long since become a lie. There is an out of use train station that remains at the foot of the hill, just inside the school’s borders. It was built long ago, but it was built sturdily out of brick and iron; it was meant to function for much longer than it did. Some say it’s haunted. There are plenty of skeptics, but there are also people who swear they’ve seen someone down at the station. Stories and descriptions of the ghost vary wildly, but most agree on one thing: they were sitting on the platform, waiting for the train.

I figure every college has ghosts. Like, it’s just a joke, and you laughingly thank the ghost for pulling the fire alarm during your test, but your friend’s girlfriend’s roommate knows she’s seen it. It seemed like Elsewhere Uni shouldn’t be left out just because it also has Fae. I also like the triangularity of it: ghosts/spirits, who have souls but no bodies; the Fair Folk, who have bodies but no souls; and humans, who have both. Also, I know in a recent post you said the university was bordered by two highways and a railroad, but I could have sworn you said river earlier.


Just went to check and you’re 100% right I said river (I think somewhere else I’ve also said 2 highways, a river, and train tracks? I am Not Good at continuity). I like this the most, however - a river, a highway, and train tracks. Three is an important number.

(And related yes I love the triangularity of ghosts/fae/humans as well! What’s a campus without ghost stories? This is lovely)

  • [while Voldemort is training them]
  • Bellatrix Lestrange: I’m never gonna catch my breath
  • Barty Crouch Jr: Say goodbye to those who knew me
  • Rastaban Lestrange: Boy was I a fool in school for cutting gym.
  • Narcissa Malfoy: This guy’s got ‘em scared to death!
  • Severus Snape: Hope he doesn’t see right through me.
  • Regulus Black: Now I really wish that I knew how to swim!
  • Voldemort: BE A DEATH EATER!

anonymous asked:


Today was the happiest day in his life

Today was the day. The day that had been keeping Shawn up every night the past few weeks. The day he’d been imagining, since the very first time, he laid eyes on her. Since she stole his breath away.

Today, was the happiest day in his life.

She was standing there, tears in her eyes, looking beautiful as ever, once again stealing his breath away every time he looked at her.

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People scold us for missing people that we shouldn’t. There are some people that just get you. That you have this connection with. They spark something in your soul. And sometimes you have to say goodbye to those people because you just can’t have contact anymore; other than checking in once in awhile, if that. Even years down the road, you get this longing of missing them. It doesn’t even have to be in a romantic way anymore. You just miss how you could talk to them or how they made you laugh, and you wanna reach out. But you can’t. Because some people just aren’t good for you anymore and you need to know when you have to stop. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them. Maybe they cheated, maybe you did, maybe they played head games, maybe nothing bad happened, maybe you ran because you were scared. Whatever it was, the damage has been done between you. But in those rare moments when you catch up, you get that feeling in your chest and your heart speeds up a little. Some people just leave this imprint on you. Sometimes you drift away or have to tell them goodbye; even if it kills you. I think it’s okay to miss those people. Whether you spent months or years with them. Or if you never had a chance to get started. Because they did make a difference in your life; they impacted you. And that was important. You shouldn’t be judged for missing someone that made you feel something. Even if it is over.
—  Chapters from my life
Sinbad no Bouken 141 RAW + a Summary!

Here are the raws for Sinbad no Bouken 141 raw and a quick summary! In which the Sindria company has yet another surprise visitor!!! Oh no…

Just a reminder, to anyone who follows me and enjoys these raws/summaries, parts of or even all of these summaries could be completely wrong, so be advised as you read them as I am by no means a professional translator!

*** Disclaimer : Sinbad no Bouken is not my work. Please be sure to vote for Sinbad no Bouken every day on the MangaOne app if you have it!

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Down the Whiskey Goes - Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1802

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff

Beta: @crazy-chinchilla7 (Thank you so much lovely.)

A/N This is for @katymacsupernatural  ‘s GIF writing challenge. My GIF was the one below. I hope you like it and congrats on 1000 followers! Also for #SPN FAMILY LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE DAY 2017, I think it’s a great thing.

All you could see was black, but around you, Dean’s voice echoed through your head. He kept shouting, “(Y/N)!? (Y/N/N)! Come on, get up. You need to wake up.” He sounded desperate, you tried so hard to open your eyes to see, but soon his words started fading and everything was gone.

Your eyes fluttered open to see a ceiling fan spinning above your head. Slowly started to look around the room you were in, trying to place your surroundings, but you couldn’t recognise a thing. You tried to open your mouth to call out to Sam or Dean, but it was too dry to make a sound. You sat on the bed coughing up a storm when Dean came rushing into this mysterious room and quickly kneeled by your side, placing a hand on your back to help soothe you.

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A post-ep one shot for Monday, written beta-less for @txf-fic-chicks post-ep/missing scene challenge. This one is for Kristin. She knows why.

He grabs Scully’s elbow as soon as Skinner’s door edges shut, desperate to grasp her firm angles and so rewrite his last sensory memory of her, warm hand on his dying chest, with his living breathing partner. She looks at him like he’s insane. She’s looked at him like that a hundred times in the last hour as his always questionable testimony was distilled from a barely plausible chain of events to him saying over and over, “I just knew”. Scully can’t apply science to his gut, and Mulder wishes there was some way for him to tell her that he’s lived the same day 24 times and watched her die 24 times and that all he can think right now is that she’s alive, they both are, and please, please, never let him live that Monday again.

He’d slept like the dead last night, passed out on his couch under the weight of two dozen heartbreaks, and woken convinced another was on its way. His commute had been surreal, the newspaper headlines telling him Tuesday seeming just a cruel trick, until Scully had brought reality through the basement office door, red hair and rosy cheeks telling him that it really was over. He’d wanted to hug her then, to close the distance that Diana and a thousand almost arguments have opened between them but when Scully had met his gaze, he’d realised she didn’t remember; that all those Mondays, all those desperate goodbyes as Bernard’s hand had dropped finally, fatally to that killswitch, were his burden to bear. And so he’d told Skinner, with a nonchalance betrayed only by the clench of his hands in his lap as he relived that explosion over and over again, Scully flying boneless away from him in a marble framed inferno, that he “just knew”.

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an inconvenient time of day | five mornings in the mill

Ao3 link


Aaron wakes to the sound of rain, fumbles for his phone to check the time before he remembers it’s Sunday. Thank god.

He pulls his arm back under the duvet where it’s warm. He’s got it snugged up to his chin, tucked under his knees, a perfect little cocoon against the February dawn.

Robert’s putting out heat behind him and Aaron moves his feet back, warms them on Robert’s ankles even though it makes him grumble in his sleep.

It’s not quite light out yet, he’s definitely got a couple of hours before he needs to move.

He turns over, plasters himself up against Robert’s back, tucks his cold nose into the hair at Robert’s nape.

Robert always pretends he hates being the little spoon but it’s all lies. He hums contentedly when Aaron slides an arm around his chest, hand coming up to cover Robert’s heartbeat.

It thumps in time with the patter on the windows and Aaron lets his eyes slip shut again. He’s exactly where he wants to be, he’s not moving.

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Don’t say you love me
Don’t dare let those words escape your lips
I don’t care that you mean them
I already know that you do
Far too many times I have heard those words as a goodbye
Far too many times have they caused me suffering and grief
I asked myself if that was what love felt like
A terrible mixture of sorrow and loss
And, though that is all the word has brought me,
I refuse to believe that’s all it is
I know there’s much more to it
Because I feel differently when I’m with you
You don’t cause me pain or sorrow
You bring me light
You bring me joy
And that’s what I want love to mean
So don’t say you love me
Don’t dare let those words escape your lips
At least not as a goodbye
At least not right now
I don’t care that you mean them
I already know that you do
Instead, wait to tell me while we’re gazing at a star-filled sky
Or after you’ve kissed me for the first time
Or while we’re tangled up together in bed
Because I don’t want to feel grief and suffering at the utterance of those words
I want to feel light and joy instead
Rewriting the Past - five

Originally posted by katherine8595

Pairing: ReaderxBaekhyun

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Baekhyun was your first love when you were sixteen. It was passionate, hot, and messy. But all of that ended six years ago, after a four-year battle for your relationship. Now, you’re twenty-six years old and still reeling from the relationship when suddenly, Baekhyun shows up on your doorstep.

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

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A Chance

Request:  tyler imagine where y/n is tyler’s best friend and she has a crush on tyler but he’s taken. two years previously, she planned to tell tyler of her crush on him but just as she was about to say it, he introduces her to his girlfriend. then its all angsty n shit

tyler joseph x reader

word count: 588

warnings: angst

read pt 2 here

          There was something about Tyler. Maybe some witch put a curse on you so you would fall in love with him because it was something you never wanted to do. You can’t believe that you thought you’d have a chance with him.

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Not alone

John put their cups on the kitchen counter and poured the last drips of milk into their teas. “Anything I can get you from Tesco? Seems we ran out of um… Apparently everything.“ 
Sherlock didn’t respond, he just ended his quiet sonate. The whole night he had been playing his violin. All of John’s favourites. 
John placed the cups on the desk before he let himself fall into his chair, cupping his tea with both hands. 
"So, anything planned for today? A case, ruining Mrs. Hudson’s china or are you finally planning on getting rid of the ears?” John tried to get at least the hint of a smile out of Sherlock, who has been focusing on his cup, running his slender fingers over the notes on the desk. 
“Throw the ears away." 
"Are you sure? You’ve been working on this for weeks, you wouldn’t let me come near-”
“Garbage. Today.” Sherlock remained stone-faced.
“Fine, good. As you wish.” he threw his hands up in surrender.
Sherlock’s expression shifted, now showing worry, even sympathy. 
“John we-” he took a deep breath at the pure anticipation John offered him. “you need to stop this." 
John’s heart clenched, he kept on smiling. 
"Stop what?" 
"You know exactly what I’m talking about." 
He knew. "No, I- don’t" 
"For God’s sake John! Wake up. I’m not here.”
“You do this all the time, why can’t I-”
The flat went quiet. Just the steady noises from the busy street reached his ears. He couldn’t look at Sherlock, not now. 
"I think I should get ready. Appointment with Ella. I want to finish the groceries beforehand. Risotto for dinner? What you think?" 
A tremor forced him to clench his left hand as he stood up. 
He would buy mushrooms, Sherlock always liked that. And milk, he mustn’t forget about the milk. 
"John, please.” Sherlock’s voice was just a whisper.
And maybe a new bottle of scotch. 

John scooped the burned risotto into the bin, fully aware that Sherlock was surveying him, disapprovingly so.
“There’s still a can of beans behind the tea." 
"I think I’ll let it be for tonight. Sorry I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” John sounded defeated. He felt defeated, by goddamn risotto. 
“You shouldn’t be drinking." 
"Doesn’t mean I can’t.” he said raising his glass in Sherlock’s direction before taking a huge gulp. John edged past him, his glass in the left, the alarmingly light bottle of scotch in the right. 
Sherlock sat in his chair, hands folded in his lap, his eyes sharp as a knife observing John’s every move. 
“Could you- not do that” he mumbled casually. The alcohol was already paralyzing his tounge, making his skin warm and almost numb. Numb was good. Better than the alternative. Numb was bearable.
“Do what?" 
"Condemning every single decision I take." 
"I could. As soon as you stop condemning every single decision you take.”
Very funny. Hilarious indeed. Another gulp. 
“Touché” he ran lazy circles on the fabric of his chair. 
“So what your therapist said today…” Sherlock leaned forward.
“I don’t wanna talk about it." 
"Yeah, that’s what you told her." 
A bitter laugh escaped John’s throat. 
"You need to get it out." 
More Scotch. 
"What for?! It wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Right. Better keep up with the drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t even last two more weeks.” Sherlock has always been a righteous arse, but he has never been this- mean.  Not to him.
“Then I should probably try harder.” The faint of a broken smile played around his lips. 

Minutes passed without a word. Not a single sound would break the silence. His throat burned, the pattern on the wall was nothing more than a blurred puddle, made no sense. Nothing made sense. 
“Go to bed.” Sherlock’s voice was so calm, so quiet, as if he was afraid to scare John. 
He didn’t respond, just tried to get up, kicking over the bottle of Scotch at his feet. He needed to force himself not to reach for it and throw it against the next wall. 
Slow unsteady steps, clumsily hitting every piece of furniture in his way. 
Sherlock was in front of him, moving motionless, like a statue, slightly blurred maybe due to the alcohol, maybe because he began to- it must have been the scotch. It must.
He heard murmurs, voices, muffeled, far away. Cars and wind and-
“John. Call someone. You shouldn’t be alone right now." 
"I…I’m, I’m not alone." 
"John.” Sherlock still didn’t move, a figure of marble, poorly lit by the kitchen lights. 
He felt panic creeping up, everything seemed distorted. The room, his voice, Sherlock. 
He kept hold of the table, resisting the urge of letting himself fall to the floor. 
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be. You’re here.” John’s voice cracked. “You won’t leave." 
"John!” Sherlock was pleading, almost screaming his name. 
“You can’t. Y-you won’t do this. Please.” Shivers ran down his spine, he could feel the cold breeze on his skin. Please. Distinct voices, alarmed, yelling. 
“Goodbye John.” Those very familiar words. Just centimetres separated them. But his voice, tinny and so far away. 
“No. No.” John closed his eyes. “Stop. Don’t! Stop!” He sobbed, his whole body was trembling.
A dull crack and then- nothing. Except for John’s short sobs. His nails were digging into the table, his last sense of reality. 
“John. John open your eyes." 
"Look at me.” He felt so close, his tone so clear. 
His body was disobeying him, but eventually he opened his eyes, blinked away hot tears, still not daring to look up. Counting tiles around their feet to calm the fear. 
“Good. Now look at my face.” Sherlock paused for a second. “please." 
Ever so slowly he let his eyes move upwards, along the buttons of the Bellstaff, over the collar of his shirt, his pale neck and jaw. 
"Please” John begged. He didn’t want to.
Blood ran down Sherlock’s face, thick drops, creating the perfect contrast to his skin, coming from a deep wound on his forehead. His curls, dampened, glued together shimmering red in the light. Eyes wide open, staring into the void expressing the absence of everything. 
John’s lips began to quiver.
“Sher- please talk to me.” His voice broke.
Sherlock remained silent.
“Sherlock!” John cried out, drool running from his mouth. “Please. Please. Please. Please.” He reached out for Sherlock’s cheek, but before his fingers could touch his skin Sherlock laid on the floor, limps spread morbidly into all directions, his cold eyes still fixed on John.
John slipped on to his knees, bending forward, holding himself, sobbing. ‘It’s not real. It’s not real.’ He repeated it over and over. Almost choking on his own saliva. 
“It may not be real. But it’s reality.” The voice came from behind. Calm, steady, naturally cold. 
“I, this, this can’t be. What can I do?” It was still hard to talk. His throat burned, he felt like vomiting.
"Nothing.” He scoffed turning his head in the direction of Sherlock’s voice. 
“I- it needs to stop. Just make it go away. How can I make it stop?" 
"Accept it." 
John crawled over to the wall and sat down. His head fell back, beside him sat Sherlock, in his favorite dressing gown, perfectly fine, smiling sadly at him.
"How could I? I had to watch my best friend jump to his death right in front of my own eyes. How’s that acceptable?" 
"It’s not." 

John sighed, it’s been almost an hour since either of them said something. At least his mind stopped playing tricks on him.
"I’m sorry." 
Sherlock looked puzzled, just raised an eyebrow.
"I- I shouldn’t have said that. That ‘machine’ thing. It’s my fault." 
"John, stop it." 
"It’s true, isn’t it. I deserve this. It- you should haunt me for the rest of my life." 
Sherlock laid his hand on John’s and for the breath of a moment he imagined he could feel the weight, the warmth. 
"It’s not. And you know this." 
"It’s not fair.”
“No it’s not. Death is never-”
“That’s not what I meant. You know, holding a monologue, your 'note’, without even giving me the chance to say something, anything." 
Sherlock turned his head to the side, now looking directly into John’s eyes. "Then say it now.” His face was all edges, sharp lines and still it was the softest thing John ever laid his eyes on.
“It won’t change a thing.”
“It won’t." 
John smiled. Earnest. 
"I love you." 
Only a vaguely perceptible tremor in the corner of Sherlock’s mouth and wet eyes testified that he heard those three words.
John took a deep breath, saying it, out loud, hearing himself uttering these words. Making it real. He expected pain, despair, sorrow, instead he felt calm for the first time in weeks. 
"And now?” He asked facing away.

A little post Reichenbach fic that has been floating around in my drafts since tld.
Ankita’s little thread today reminded me of it, I hope you like it 😈 @love-in-mind-palace

anonymous asked:

Thing that pains me: jake always pulling amy closer when they kiss like by e my s ou l ha s leFT MY BOD Y ALSO I LOVE HOW IN A BUNCH OF THEIR KISSES HE PUTS HIS HANDS ON HER HIPS AND SHE CRADLES HIS FACE LIKE ??? GET MARRIED ALREADY BY E

hoo boy

i  a m d y in g

the first one ever wowza

look at his lil hand at the bottom

aaaaahhhhh so much is h a pp enign

tbh still bitter that they didn’t use this take bc in the real one:


but in the past he has and i just wanna go back to those wonderful times okay goodbye all

Best Decision You Ever Made

Coming to London had been one of the best decisions you could have ever made.

Of course, it had been terrifying leaving your family and friends behind for a few months, but the internship was too good of an opportunity to pass up. And so with your suitcase in hand, you had ventured off to London.

Now, those months were coming to an end, and you had started to say your goodbyes.

When first starting the internship, you never imagined that you would make the friendships you did.

And now, saying goodbye to those people, it was nearly as hard as when you said goodbye to your parents prior to this internship.

The hardest person to say goodbye to though was Joe.

You had met him fairly early on in your internship, having bumped into each other at the Gleam office, and he had helped you find your way.

From that day on, you two were inseparable.

He had taken it on as his personal task to show you every part of London, wanting you to enjoy your time in the English city as much as possible.

You knew that your time there was limited, and had sworn to yourself that if you met anyone, you wouldn’t let any feelings develop.

But your heart had other plans. And you had found yourself falling for Joe. Hard.

But you also knew that it would only result in heartache if you tried to pursue anything, with you heading back home after such a short period of time.

So you two simply enjoyed each others company, loving the friendship you had created with him.

Now the day to leave had arrived.

The night prior, the boys had surprised you with a going away part round Joe’s.

Each them had taken you aside at some point in the night, saying their goodbyes and exchanging promises to visit.

You had grown to care for the boys quite deeply, and looked at them as brothers, and it was hard leaving them.

When the night finally came to an end, you had cried openly as you hugged them all one last time.

Eventually, they left, and you were alone with Joe. You had planned to go back to your apartment that night, but neither of you could quite bring yourself to say goodbye yet, and so you stayed up most of the night talking quietly.

And in the morning, he went with you to the airport, dragging out the goodbye further.

“I really have to go, Joe.” You glanced over your shoulder towards the security. Your plan was due to leave in less than an hour, and you still had to go through security and clearance.

“I know, Y/N. I just don’t want you to go yet.”

“You’ll come visit me soon, though.”

“I will.” Joe nodded firmly, one of your hands in his. “I promise.”

“Thank you for making this an amazing trip.” You smiled softly at him, “And thank you for being a wonderful tour guide.”

“You’ll have to repay me when I come visit.” He grinned down at you.

“I will. I promise.” You echoed his previous words, and biting your lip, you stepped back, your conjoined hands hanging between your bodies. “I have to go.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Joe.”

Brushing away a stray tear, your hand slipped from his and you made your way towards security.

Just after you thanked the worker, taking your passport back, you heard someone call your name loudly.

“WAIT!” Turning around, you saw Joe standing on the other side of security.

They refused to let him through without a ticket, and so he simply shouted his words.


You felt your breath leave you as he grinned over at you.

“I should have said it sooner! But I was scared! It think I’m more scared of not telling you though, so I love you, Y/N!”

“Oh, Joe…” You said softly, smiling as you shook your head. He simply shrugged, that smile still on his face. “I love you too, you idiot!” You called back.

He turned to the security guard, saying something that you couldn’t hear, but there was a pleading look on his face. A moment later it was replaced by a blinding smile as he slipped past her and ran towards you.

His hands came up to caress your face as his lips crashed against yours. Your own hands moved around to his back as you kissed him back. Joe pulled back a moment later, smiling gently down at you.

“I couldn’t let you go without saying it. Or kissing you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” You replied breathlessly.

The clearing of a throat made you both step apart, and Joe looked over his shoulder at the security guard. Nodding, he turned back to look at you, dropping a quick kiss on your lips once again.

“Call me when you land?”

“Will do.” You answered, watching him shoot the guard a thankful look as he moved to the other side again, his eyes meeting yours.

He waved at you, and you waved back, grabbing your bag and continuing down your path.

Coming to London had been one of the best decisions you could have ever made.