took me forever to remember what i wrote five minutes ago

Dear Peter

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a hot mess and one day peter decides to help her clean her room? And while cleaning her room she leaves to get pizza or something. And he finds multiple little letters to peter about how much she loves him but she never sends them to him? (like they are buried underneath her messy room). Lots of Fluff (and a little angst in the letters). I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK BTW I’m a huge fan!

A/N: So I loved this idea so much that I started writing it right away. And as a person with an extremely messy bedroom I am taking offence to my own words. And this is actually kinda personal to me, I’m partially including notes I wrote to someone, exactly one year ago this month, actually. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 2576 (Wow this Is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: Nah


Day after day, you showed up to school late and in a clutter. Your notes were never in order, when you would open your bag, things would be falling out. You’d given up on your locker. Why bother using it if every time you opened it, something would fall on you?

You ran into chemistry five minutes after the bell, “Y/N, how nice of you to join us,” your teacher smiled.

“Sorry i’m late,” you mumbled, heading towards the back of the class where you shared a lab desk with your best friend Peter Parker.

“Let me guess why you were late today. Couldn’t find your homework in that mess of a bedroom,”

“No,” you said.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. You’re right,” you admitted.

“That’s what I thought,”

“Apparently I threw my sweater on top of it, and a pair of pants, and maybe I kept piling things on top while I was looking for it,”

“Christ, Y/N, that’s it, I’m coming over tonight and we’re cleaning your damn bedroom,”

“My bedroom is fine, Peter,”

“Clearly, it’s not. I’m coming over, and we are cleaning,”


You were certainly going to have to figure out a way out of this one. You had a few things in your bedroom that you really didn’t want Peter to find.

As promised, later that evening Peter showed up at your door.

“Peter, what if I told you that I don’t want you cleaning my bedroom,”

“I’d tell you too bad,”

Peter moved past you and walked into your home.

“Peter, come on, I really don’t want your help,”

“C’mon Y/N, you really need to get organized, you’re going to start getting detentions if you show up late many more times,”

“But what if there are things in my room that I don’t want you seeing?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise to avert my eyes if there’s any underwear lying around,”

“Not what I meant, but I can see that you’re not giving up, so fine, enter my lair,” you said, stepping aside and allowing Peter into your bedroom.

Peter stepped inside and kind of sighed, “I forgot how messy your room was,”

“Now you know why I always study at your house,”

“And I always thought it was because of little old me,”


“I don’t even know where to start,” Peter said, looking around.

There were piles of clothes on your floor, books staked on your desk chair, old homework was scattered everywhere, and half your bed was taken up by your computer, clothes, books, and even a few water bottles.

“Ok! So we’re going to start with the garbage,”

“You can’t throw me away, Parker. Not in my own house,”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just go grab a garbage bag and we’ll get started,”

You and Peter spent what seemed like forever cleaning.

“I’m going to start on your desk while you finish sorting though your clothes,”

“Or…. You could order some food?” Peter added 

You sighed, dropping the shirts you had in your hand, “Pizza okay?”

“Better than okay, I’m starved, and I most definitely don’t want to eat anything else that we’ve come across,”

“Ok, back off Peter, my room’s messy but I don’t have rotting food in here or anything,”

Peter pulled two completely squished chocolate bars off your desk and held them up in front of you, “I beg to differ,”

 “I’m going to go order the pizza,” you said, flipping Peter off. 

You walked out of the room and left Peter to clean off your desk.

Peter continued to clear off what he believed to be was garbage, hopefully he wasn’t throwing away anything that you may need.

There were a few pieces of paper folded up on the corner of your desk under an old coffee mug.

Peter lifted the mug, and placed it at the foot of your bed along with the other three you had found.

Peter began sorting though the papers and came across an envelope with his name on it.

Peter put the rest of the papers down and held the envelope.

I can’t open it, can I?


I shouldn’t.

Peter very much so wanted to open the mysterious envelope that had his name on it.

Peter was still looking at the envelope when you walked back in.

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the envelope to you.

“You didn’t open it, did you?”

“No, of course not, I respect your privacy, I was just wondering what it was,”

You walked towards Peter, and grabbed the envelope from him.

“It’s nothing,” you lied.

“Right,” Peter said, staring at you for a moment before going back to clearing off your desk.

You and Peter cleaned in silence for the next while until the pizza arrived.

“I’ll be back,” you said, leaving the room.

When you came back, Peter was sitting on the ground of your balcony, letting his legs hang out the side through the bars.

You went out and sat down next to Peter, opening the box of pizza to offer him some.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

“No, why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t let you read the letters,”

“No, I understand. There are some things you want to keep private and other things you’re willing to share,”

You took a deep breath and pulled the envelope out of your pocket.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,”

Peter watched you, waiting to see what you would do.

“Fuck. Okay. Peter, here,” you said, outstretching your hand to him, giving him the envelope.

“No, Y/N, you clearly don’t want me to read whatever’s in there,”

“Please, take it, Peter. Just, wait until you get home to read it. And, remember that I don’t want what’s in this envelope to change our friendship. You’re still my best friend and I really can’t lose you,”

“Did you confess to a murder in here or something?” Peter joked.

You rolled your eyes, “No, Parker, just, eat your pizza,”

Peter shoved the envelope into his pant pockets and the two of you went on with your evening. You finished your pizza and went back inside to finish cleaning.

It didn’t take you much longer to completely clean your room.

By 10pm your room was rid of garbage and old homework, your clothes were put away in your dresser, and all your old coffee mugs were in the dishwasher.

“I guess I better head home before Aunt May gets worried,”

“Oh, okay,”

Peter walked towards where you were sitting on your bed.

“I’ll read your letters when I get home and talk to you tomorrow,”

Peter kissed your cheek and left.

You said on your bed, heat fluttering from Peter’s kiss. You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were too worried about how Peter was going to react to your letters.

When Peter got home, he shouted a simple hello to May and ran into his room.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, and pulled out the envelope.

He ripped it open and a handful of letters came out. 

Peter opened the first one, dated just over a year previous, a few months before he had gotten his spidey powers.

Dear Peter,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, I can’t believe I’m writing this stupid letter.

I read somewhere that writing things down is a great way to let everything out, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing you a letter to tell you how I feel.

You’re my best friend. I love you with all my heart. More than you’ll ever know, really. And if you’re reading this, stop? Because never in a million years would I actually give you this to read. Quit snooping, Parker.

Regardless, I’m always wondering if I should tell you how I feel, so I guess i’ll just do it here because I am WAY too much of a chicken to tell you in person.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, am in love with you Peter Parker.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you. I can’t remember a time that you weren’t my entire world. Peter, If you asked, I would find a way to  make a million waves in the ocean crash all at once, just to make you smile.

I still can’t believe I’m writing this down.

I really am in love with you, Peter.


Peter had to re-read the letter what felt like a dozen times. You were in love with him. He didn’t know what to say. He quickly pulled out the next letter. It was dated only a month after the first one.


This is so ridiculous that I’m writing to you again. But you drive me insane! Every time I look at you I just want to run my hands through those damn curls of yours and kiss your perfect lips but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I can’t.

You make me so furious. I hate looking at you knowing that I can’t kiss you or be with you, but I also can’t not look at you because i’m in love with your stupid face.

I stand by my statement of fuck you.


Peter looked at the dates on all the letters, they were each dated almost a month apart.


I miss you so much, Peter. I know I see you every day, but you’ve been hanging around me and Ned after school a lot less. I love you more than I thought I would love anyone, ever, and I’m scared to lose you. It feels like I’m losing you. I wish we could run away and leave everything behind, just you and me. Please, Peter. I miss you and I’m crying and I wish we were together.


Peter’s heart began to ache, he had no idea you felt this way about him. The next letter was dated after he had become Spiderman and had begun his Stark internship.


It’s not fair that everything reminds me of you. It’s not fair that while you’re off doing whatever it is you do after school, whether its the Stark internship or not, I’m lying here awake, crying, trying not to think of you but all I can do is cry over the fact that I’ve lost you. It’s not fair that I’m going to cry myself to sleep. It’s not fair that we broke. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this pain. I haven’t done anything to deserve this much pain. It’s not fair that life is so painful. I don’t deserve this pain. I just want you back. That’s all I want. I just want you. Why does living have to be so hard?
I still feel numb. After crying for three hours tonight, I haven’t felt anything. Nothing feels real. This isn’t real. I don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m living. But it’s so hard without you, Peter. It’s so hard to not have you. I went from having everything I’d ever want or need, to nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I have is the memories of the old us. And my memory is shit. Imagine how hard this is for me. I don’t even know if you’re missing me like I miss you. I don’t even know if you’re thinking about me. I hope you are. I’d like to think you are. But, then again, who knows. I barely feel like I know you anymore. You’re my entire life. I just lost my entire life.


Peter couldn’t stand to read anymore. He dropped the letters on his bed, and climbed out his fire escape.
Peter began swinging towards your apartment. He landed on your balcony and knocked on the glass door.

You suddenly jumped up, and the sight of someone at your window. When you realized it was Peter you climbed out of bed and went to open the window for him to get in.

“Peter what are you doing here? Its almost 1am,”

Peter looked down at his watch (ok I know he doesn’t wear a watch cause of his web shooters but I have this weird thing where I find it so attractive for people to wear watches like?) and checked the time. You were right. He hadn’t realized he had been reading for so long.

“I needed to see you,”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I read your letters, or, I read some of them. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them,“

“Oh,” you slightly pulled away from Peter.

“No! No! Not like that. I just meant, I got to the one when I had just become Spiderman and I would spent all my time out and I ignored you and Ned, just, the letter broke my heart Y/N. I didn’t know you felt this way,”

“Well, I do. You kinda broke my heart when you stopped coming around,”

“I knew you were mad at me, I just didn’t realize that you were this upset,”

“I wasn’t just upset Peter, i’m in love with you. I cried myself to sleep every night because I thought you hated me and that I had lost you for good,”

Peter walked towards you and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“You could never lose me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Don’t make promised you can’t keep, Parker,”

“Darling, I’m in love with you too, I’m not going anywhere,”

You could feel tears in your eyes, and the back of your throat felt thick (thicc). You were so mad at yourself for not telling Peter sooner.

Peter leaned in and placed a light kiss on your lips. Pulling away only for a moment before you leaned back in to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around Peter, he puled your closer to him, and moved his lips from yours, engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you telling me, I could have saved myself so many sleepless nights over you if I had only told you sooner?”

“I guess I could have saved myself some sleepless nights because of you too if I had only had the guts to tell you how I felt,”

“Do you have to go home or can you stay?” You asked.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said, bringing you in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing that Peter found those letters.

Tag List: @tronnoristheotp, @isabellyduh, @spiderrparkerr, @lots-of-liz, @darlin-you-bitch, @a-smol-badger (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, please let me know in an ask or private message if you would like to be included in my tag list


Definition: Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time; a person you are completely infatuated with.

Word Count: 2,866.

A/N: In honor of the official premiere for SM:HC, I came up with this insanely cute fic that will just about melt your heart. (you can thank me later) Hope you enjoy! <3 (no spoilers)

* credit to the note saying used is found here.

Originally posted by spiderholland

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anonymous asked:

How about RFA+V and Saeran react to MC completely disappearing once Rika comes back and everyone ignores MC. Like she was replaced by Rika,and the last thing they saw of her was "MC has left the chatroom"

I’m gonna format this different than usual, just because this is… Gosh this is a really good ask, and I want to answer it in a good way too, but the usual way just doesn’t seem to suit it, so.. heheh, I hope you guys like this format Note: The reactions are all connected, I suggest reading it in order as I wrote it to make the best sense!! ^^

To begin with, there was a lot of “Rika..? Where have you been??” “We thought you were dead” “How.. how are you back?”
You were amazed too. But you felt forgotten in the excitement, no one answered you, they all acted like… Rika replaced you. As if now that she was there, you… were not. You understood at first, sure. They were all excited that Rika was back. Makes sense. But this lasted for a few days… They wouldn’t join in chatrooms with you anymore, they had just left you. You attempted one last time to get their attention.

-Hey.. guys?
-I guess you’re all busy…
-Haha.. that seems to be all the time now ^^;;
-You’re all really busy….;;
-I guess I’m just a bother, aren’t I?
-I’m sorry
-MC has left the chatroom-


At first, he was still caught up in the excitement. Rika, enticing as ever, held his attention. He at first played off your chat as a bad day, on your part. But then… you stopped coming to the chats at all. He realized it one day when he was thinking about you. He stopped in the chats and asked if anyone else had noticed.
No one quite knew… when you were last on. Rika tried to say to brush it off. “She’ll come back sometime. I’m sure!! Don’t worry!”
Yoosung looked back to find the chat anyways. It worried him.. what you said sounded so definitive. As if you planned to leave, for good.
So he consulted Seven. “Where’s MC? Why hasn’t she been here?”
“I… I haven’t been able to find them… They deleted the app, and then they just completely disappeared.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner??”
“I tried. No one would listen.”
Yoosung didn’t want to believe Seven, but looking back at the chats… he saw it was true. Anything about you, everyone just brushed aside. It seemed only Seven tried to bring you up, before he too, gave up.
“When did you last see MC?”
“She left her home, and disappeared from the city…”
“There has to be clues at her home… what’s her address?”
He recorded it as Seven told him, then went out on a drive, driving through the neighborhood you resided in, scouring the houses for your address.


“What do you mean.. MC’s gone?”
She hadn’t noticed it either that you were gone gone, until Yoosung brought up the chat with Seven about your disappearance.
“They can’t just… be gone. Can they..?”
“Jaehee, I know you were close to them..” Yoosung started, “do you know anything about where they might have gone? Could they be hiding something at home about where they went?”
“I… Maybe, but… I never really saw them outside of club activities, only a couple times..”
“Come with me then. We have to check her home for anything, any clues.”
That’s how the two of them ended up at your porch, first knocking the door to see if you were maybe just at home. There was always the chance, and Jaehee didn’t want to ‘break in’ if it was unnecessary, because it after all, was your home.
“Let’s go in” Yoosung said after waiting a minute.
“Wait– hold up, they might just be coming.”
Yoosung huffed, but Jaehee stubbornly made them wait five more minutes. “Fine, we can go in.”
They found the place clean. Not just clean, but to a point of… barrenness. It felt empty. Lifeless.
“You’d think there’d be signs of them actually living here…” Yoosung murmured.
“Maybe that’s the point…” Jaehee said. She wandered through the house, into a bedroom. It too felt empty, with a bed, an empty nightstand, and a desk. The desk appeared empty, but she checked the drawers, and found a notebook. She remembered this from times hanging out with you, you kept notes in this… it was kind of like your planner/diary/notes all blended together.
“This should have something.”


He saw the chat when he woke up in the morning. “What’s going on? MC… is missing?”
He didn’t quite believe it.
Scratch that– he didn’t want to believe it.
But he couldn’t deny how they all were ignoring you. He couldn’t help wondering if that’s what drove you to leave, the fact that everyone ignored you. Or was it something more…?
“Guys, why is everyone so worried..?” Rika chimed in on the chat. “They’ll be fine, they’re probably just taking a break. It can be kind of stressful leading the RFA, I would know!! ^^”
“But why would they just disappear?” Zen asked. “Shouldn’t they have given us some kind of warning?”
“Just give them space, they’ll be fine.”
He noticed how Rika had little concern about you, and sure it made some sense.. she didn’t really know you. Call it paranoid, but he was skeptical about her “it’s fine” act. In a moment of rogue thought, he wondered if Rika had anything to do with your disappearance.
That… couldn’t be possible though. It’s Rika– he knows her. She wouldn’t do something like this.
But then again.. the Rika he last knew was from at least four years ago. The details around her ‘death’ and return were vague, and V and her were shrouded in secrets. Thinking more about it, Zen felt less and less sure that Rika wasn’t involved.


“Let me see what you found.”
“It isn’t much, but..” Jaehee drew out a notebook from her bag. “This is it, Mr. Han. It took me forever to convince Yoosung to let me take it, but it’s their notebook. I found it in their drawer. I thought that this might be of some help…”
She opened to a page and showed it to Jumin, revealing a page of a scribbled-down conversation. Little notes labelled one side as you, the other side as someone going by Unknown.
“Isn’t Unknown..?”
“Yes, Unknown is the one who lead MC to the apartment in the first place. I didn’t realize they had been talking with each other…”
Jumin looked closer at the conversation. It talked about plans, how you needed to leave, needed help leaving. Needed to know how to disappear, so even Seven couldn’t find you.
“Why was MC planning this? And why would they go to this Unknown to do it?” He hesitates. “Jaehee, find out more about this for me. Consult Seven maybe, leave the notebook with me. I’ll continue looking through it.”
Jaehee bites her lip, but doesn’t protest before heading off.
Jumin starts looking through your notebook, and finds the first day you met the RFA.
MC was so happy… He remmebers fondly, and starts scanning through more.
-Could I really be more than Rika for them? Can I just become me and mean the same to them?
-I really think I can.

The memories go bittersweet as he realizes how quickly they tossed you to the wind after Rika came back.
-Unknown got a hold of me on the app… he messaged me again. I think.. there’s a reason he’s back. It might be for the best to have him help me.
MC… Jumin worries, are you with this unknown right now?


“Seven, you’re saying you don’t know how to handle Unknown? How he did all of this?”
“I– I told you. I can’t figure out how they do it, but they always seem to be one step ahead. I’ll call if I can figure out more. I have to go.”
Rika had to peep in a final word, “It’ll be fine. MC’s probably just on vacation or something~”
He left the chat with Jaehee, and started scouring the computer again. His eyes hung open sleeplessly, his fingers were cramped from working on the computer for so long, but he couldn’t find you. He couldn’t find any sign of you. And he just didn’t understand it.
Hearing that you worked with the Unknown to disappear, it started making sense why he couldn’t find you. The Unknown seemed to be on the same level if not more advanced than him of hacking, he could easily help you disappear without a trace online.
The only clues left were what was left in your house, which meant your notebook…
Seven couldn’t help but feel like he failed you.
He should’ve been able to stop this. He should’ve been able to keep you there, with them. It must’ve been his fault. He failed to protect you from whatever drove you to Unknown for help. Perhaps he even failed to protect you from Unknown. 
His phone buzzed. A message from Rika. “It’ll be okay, okay Seven? You’ll see, things will go back to normal. The way they were. It’ll be all better with time.”
Frustrated, Seven chucked his phone across the room. It clashed in the trash of Dr. Pepper cans and Honey Buddha Chip bags, all empty. He hadn’t had a proper meal since he saw you deleted the app. He hadn’t ate since his stash of pop and chips ran out… two days ago.
His stomach rumbled.
But he decided he wasn’t hungry, and continued typing at the computer.


“Are you sure about this?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Give them this after I’m gone. And.. thanks, for helping me. You know you didn’t have to.”
Saeran grunted.
“Shut up. Just get out of here, before I hack into the chat and spoil your plans.”
You smiled half-heartedly. “I.. don’t think they’d worry too much over me, even if you did message them. Just.. keep an eye on (insert-your-fave-mm-charrie) for me, okay..?”
He shifted his eyes. “ ‘kay.”
He watched you go, holding himself back from saying anything more…
I’m sorry.


He watched the RFA’s panic as they realized you disappeared.
He didn’t want to intrude on it.
Even if it pained him.
He sat back and watched.
The buzz and the worry over you went on for a few months.
Yoosung clung onto it like he clung on to Rika’s death.
Jaehee lost motivation in anything but work.
Zen kept on face, looking like he was fine while reeking of vodka.
Jumin invested himself heavily in the company, losing himself in it.
Seven rarely was online, but when he was, reassuring everyone he was doing his best to find you.
The RFA as it once was lost it’s enthusiam.
Rika started working hard to build it back up.

The message was supposed to be given out to the rest of the RFA after he received it. It appeared anonymously in the mail one wintry day.
He consulted Rika about it however, before even considering sharing it.
She told him to burn it. Don’t leave it to be discovered, get rid of it before someone like Seven gets a hold of it.
He couldn’t bring himself to burn it. He felt too guilty to.
So he hid it away, in a box locked up and tucked away on a shelf, where it would gather dust and be forgotten about.
It was like the memory of you, just as Rika hoped it would be.
Tucked up on a shelf, left to gather dust and be forgotten about.

Continued here

~Sunflower (:

contrivedcoincidences6  asked:

9 for picture prompts!!


So, I wrote an eclipse story for @lunenn and it just happened to fit with the picture prompt of a tent on the cliff. This is pure fluff. And I’m not sorry.

She’d been told to pack light but to include sturdy shoes. She sighed when she saw he’d dragged out the tent. It had languished in the shed for years and she was sure it had mildew and rips and all manner of insects hidden away. She wanted to tell him she was too old for this but he was all childlike wonder and enthusiasm and she couldn’t deflate an excited Mulder.

              “All done, Scully?”

              She flicked on the flashlight and made an X overhead, the brightness leaving a hazy light trail behind her eyes. “Did you pack extra batteries, Mulder?”

              “I packed like an Indian Guide, Scully. Don’t you trust me?”

              She crossed her arms and smiled at him. “Where are we going, Mulder?”

              He tapped the side of his nose.

She dropped her arms and shook her head. “Fine. It’s a surprise. But I know we’re going to see the eclipse.”

“See, we’ve still got that unspoken communication, Scully. All these years – together and apart - and we can still just zone in on each other’s thoughts.”

“Mulder, there was no way you were going to be content to watch this event on the streets outside the Hoover Building. I’m surprised you didn’t get Chuck Burks to construct you some kind of uber digital imaging…oh, Mulder, tell me we aren’t going to spend the week with Chuck Burks?”

He chuckled. “Your face, Scully. If I could have a thought-o-graph of that expression, it would be up on my corkboard with my I Want to Believe Poster and the original copy of The Lone Gunmen.”

Driving for days with Mulder had always been part of the deal. They’d spent more hours inside rental cars than in their own apartments, back in the day. And during those years on the run, the safety of the car had been a way to block out the threats around them. Driving meant doing something, meant leaving behind the footprints they’d left at one town, meant moving forward.

And the years at the house, where she worked to forget and he slowly turned in on himself remembering, she’d missed the road trips, the salty smell of his sunflower seeds, the unapologetic swigging of soda or downing of double caffeinated coffees to stay awake, the arguments over what radio station to listen to.

Now, he leant his arm on the open window, wearing his favourite sunglasses, shirt sleeves rolled up and she watched as he flexed his jaw and mouthed the words to songs.

They drove. And she loved it.

              “Carbondale, Illinois,  Mulder?”

              “The point of greatest duration, Scully.”

              She shook her head with a laugh. “You mean we can be in the dark for longer here than anywhere else in the States?”

              He snorted. “We’ve been in the dark for 25 years, Scully. What’s two more minutes?”

              “It’s pretty busy,” she said, watching people meandering along the street. “Do we have a booking?”

              “I booked us a prime spot months ago.” He flashed her the grin that she loved so much and she wondered how a man who’d been through so much pain could retain so much gentle wonder at life.

              “A nice trip to the forest?”

              His hand brushed her thigh and he turned to her. “Better than that, Scully.”

The weather was perfect. The tent wasn’t so bad, set slightly away from other campers, and he’d even remembered to pack her a few novels so she’d spent a couple of days just winding down. Mulder woke spring-coiled and ready and if the sun could just move a little faster, he’d be happier. He’d checked his phone a hundred times, he’d disappeared for ages at one point, only to come back with champagne and brie and strawberries.

              “I want you to remember this moment forever, Scully.”

              He put on his eclipse glasses and smiled up at the heavens.

First contact came and she felt a shiver through her body. Nature was a powerful reminder that life was shadows and sunlight and heat and cold and shooting flames and total darkness. And if you’re lucky, you get to spend it with Mulder. As partiality lengthened and the sky dimmed, the atmosphere changed. It was like the sliver of sun was hanging in the sky and watching them. She felt small and she pressed herself to Mulder as totality approached and the world fell silent. He chinked her glass and she heard him sip his champagne. She couldn’t drink, her throat was dry with emotion and her skin broke out in gooseflesh. She felt the tears prick at her eyes and Mulder pulled her closer.

              “What do you think, Scully? It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it? Me and you, twenty-five years of darkness and light and we get to see this together.” He suddenly knelt down and took both her hands in his.  “Scully, if I ask you to marry me, would you say yes this time?”

              In the darkness, she could only make out a silhouette of him, kneeling in front of her, silly glasses on his face, mouth half open in anticipation. So Mulder.

              “If I could pull a Bailys Bead down and set it in a ring for you, I would Scully. But, perhaps my mother’s ring would be okay for now?” He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. In the gradually lightening sky, she could see the ring, proud in its setting.

              “Yes,” she whispered, her voice echoing in the still.

              She dried the tears that had fallen once more and Mulder stood up, bending to kiss her. A round of applause broke out and she turned around.  

She blinked, once, twice. There in front of her was William. And Chuck Burks. With the biggest camera set up she’d ever seen.

              “How?” she looked at Mulder and then at William again. Then threw her arms around her son’s neck and hugged him tight. “It’s so good to see you.”

              When she let him go, he stepped back, smiling. He fished into his jeans pocket and pulled out car keys. “Got my licence. Took my first road trip.”

              “With Chuck?”

              “He’s a cool dude, Mom. And I couldn’t miss this surprise. Dad told me he was planning to eclipse every proposal he’d ever tried. And that he was certain you’d say yes this time. It’s not every day you can say you saw a miracle unfolding.”

              “The eclipse was pretty stunning,” she said.

              “I meant you saying yes, Mom.”

              Mulder erupted into laughter and she turned to him, taking off her glasses. His smile brightened along with the aura around him. Chuck clicked the shutter and a bright flash erupted.

              “I love you, Scully.”

              “Unspoken communication, Mulder. I know.”

I Want Us to be Batman and Robin Forever

Summary: While cleaning the attic, Bruce finds a letter written by a ten-year-old Dick, and Dick ends up thinking about the consequences of becoming Robin all those years ago. Day 5 of batfam week

ao3 |

“Hey, B,” Dick said, a cheerful smile on his face as he pulled himself up the ladder and into the attic. “I heard you were looking for some slaves to help you clear out some boxes.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You offering?”

“Tim said he was bored,” Dick said as he walked towards where Bruce was sitting in front of an open box, “and so I told him you wanted some help. His answer was a big fat no, so I figured I might as well give you a hand if he wouldn’t, old man.”

Bruce grunted, but didn’t look up from the paper he seemed to be entranced with. Curious, Dick moved closer, crouching down right behind Bruce and squinting over his shoulder.

“What’s that?”

“A letter.” There was a smile in Bruce’s voice, even if a glance at his face didn’t show it.

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Gone | Pietro x Reader

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: “Don’t you dare walk away!”

A/N: AHHHHHHHH! I wrote another !! Does this count as angst?

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The endless ticking of the clock annoyed you. Frustrated, you threw down the book you were reading and checked the clock hanging on the wall.

Three o’ clock in the morning. Five hours beyond the time he promised you he’d be back.

You nearly let out a scream of frustration. You wanted to tear out your hair by its roots. Where was Pietro?

You’d thought that the blond Sovokian would be off saving the world with the Avengers on a dangerous mission. But that wasn’t the case. You knew this because Wanda had accidentally sent you a video of her and Pietro out at what looked like a bar.

For his sake, you hoped the video was taken long ago in Sokovia.

This had been happening recently and quite frequently at that. Pietro often promised he would be back by a certain time. In time for dinner, he would say. He smirked and said in his usual cocky way, “I don’t think I can ever be late, zvezda moya. I’m too fast.”

But he was late now. He always seemed to be late. All the speed in the world could not save him from the curse of lateness now.

You thought over your entire relationship with the speedster. You had met him in his homeland, Sovokia. You’d moved to the beautiful European country for reasons. He had been charming and flirty. You’d thought him as cute and at least worth one date. One date led to another and soon, you accepted his romantic offer of being his girlfriend.

At that time, you hadn’t known he was a part of HYDRA, or that he even volunteered for the experiments. You’d thought him a normal,  albeit a little too quick, man who loved you. You found Wanda, his twin sister (younger than him by 12 minutes, he always added), a bit weird and awkward but you two got along well.

Then suddenly, you found yourself in the midst of a raging war. You saw the country you lived in destroyed. You saw Pietro die right in front of your eyes to save people, your heart twisted in pain. Only for him to be resurrected soon after. When Pietro admitted to his and Wanda’s willingness to join HYDRA, you punched him square in the face.

Pietro and Wanda moved to America (the country they once hated) to become proper Avengers, and he asked you to come with him to the foreign country. You still remembered that day.

“I will not know anyone there other than Wanda and the team, (Y/N),” said Pietro. His words were soft, gentle but still inviting. “If you come with me, at least I will know one more person.”

You still remembered the way his blue eyes glimmered with mischief and longing. You’d loved those eyes.

Loved, you noted with a hint of sadness.

You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. At one point of your relationship, you’d believed Pietro was your forever. He was going to your last love, the one you were going to live the rest of live with, the one you were going to grow old with. It all seemed unlikely now.

You went through his phone last time. He was in the shower, washing off the grime of a mission. He had texts to various girls, setting up dates and meetings. He didn’t appear to be lacking in free time at all, and yet that was his excuse for cancelling your dates every time.

How did your perfect fairytale romance wither so rapidly? Why did the most beautiful things never last long?

The sound of someone knocking the door interrupted your train of thought. You unlocked the door to see none other than the drunk figure of Pietro Django Maximoff staring back at you.

“Hello, zvezda,” he slurred. “Sorry I’m late. I went out for drinks with the team.”

His accent was heavier when he drank, rendering it almost unintelligible.

“Piet, you’re drunk,” you said with disapproval. “You promised me.”

He laughed, it sounded cynical and cruel. “People lie, (Y/N), that’s life.”

His laugh pierced through your heart. It was the final pin to the balloon you were desperately clutching onto. It was like awakening from a hazy sleep.

You guided the helpless speedster to a chair. He collapsed in an instant.

Your feet took you to your shared bedroom. You began to pack everything important into a small suitcase. You couldn’t stay in this place when you knew your love was going nowhere. A picture of Pietro and you caught your eye, you two looked so happy. You shoved the offending photo into a drawer, out of your sight.

“куда ты идешь?” asked Pietro. It was in Sokovian, but you understood.

Where are you going?

“Away,” you replied honestly. “This isn’t working out, Piet.”

He became angry right away. “What do you mean, (Y/N)?” His accent became even thicker.

“I’m leaving you, Piet,” you said. “I feel like I’m the only one fighting for us. You don’t think I see all that you do? You go out with other girls, and you don’t come back until late in the morning.”

You paused, your words faltering. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Piet.”

“Don’t you dare walk away!” he growled.

But you didn’t care anymore. The speedster’s powers were unstable while he was intoxicated. It was unlikely he would be able to catch up to you in this state. You pushed open the door of the apartment and left.

“Goodbye, Pietro,” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “Have a good life.”

As the door closed, Pietro felt the apartment drain of its previous warmth. Like a match that had finally burnt out. What had he just fucking done?

Do Another Little Dance

request: “Admin B, I’d like request reader x Woo Jiho (Zico) because he is officially my bias, where he and the rest of Block B have never really seen you dance before aside from goofing off, even though you’re a choreographer/professional dancer. But when they do, they are super impressed and seeing you dance turns Jiho into putty in your hands ;) (songs that brought forth this request: CL - Hello Bitches, Mino & Zico - Okey Dokey, and Bastarz - Zero for Conduct)“ ~ @hazuki22

genre: suggestive fluff

pairing: jiho x you

word count: 613

AFF link

A/N: I remember being this longer, but I wrote it forever ago, I’ll have a full scenario done soon and not just a drabble ~Admin B

Jiho leaned back in his desk chair, glancing over a relatively unimportant email while he talked to you on the phone. “So when is your thing again?”

“What thing? I’m doing like ten things right now.”

He rolled his eyes. “The one that you wanted me and the other guys to come see. The dance thing you’re in and choreographed.” Because you’d never been in any of the videos you’d posted online, Jiho – and therefore the rest of Block B – had never seen you seriously dance. They were used to you just joking around with them in the studio, half-assing their moves to poke fun at particular members.

“This Saturday. You didn’t schedule anything, did you?”

As quickly as he could, your boyfriend pulled up his calendar on the monitor in front of him. “No, don’t worry. I promise I’ll be there.” As he spoke, he started typing an email to move his meeting that day and an event to send to all the other guys. “At three, right?”

“Yup.” Taking another swig of your water, you realized the sounds of Jiho typing carried through the phone line. He had definitely scheduled something on Saturday.

“I’m excited to see you dance…for real I mean.”

“I’m glad you and the rest of your group are coming.” Chattering drifted towards your ears from the practice room. It’d been way more than five minutes. “Hey, I gotta go, break time is over. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course babe, see you then.”

Jiho had made sure all the boys had rides and were free for your mini-show Saturday. It wasn’t anything big. The company you contracted under did a show every year to showcase the talent of their employees to anyone who might be interested and to get people who had never worked together to collaborate. All the dancers took it really seriously. Not being at 100% for this show could get you blacklisted by choreographers and reflect poorly on the company.

The boys all had friends besides you performing. But you could be secretive about people watching you dance, so you were the only one they’d never seen on stage. You and four other girls danced to CL’s Lifted, as it was a favorite among all of you. To keep your nerves from getting the best of you, you made sure not to really look into the crowd so you couldn’t tell where your friends and boyfriend were. Preforming for years had made it so you rarely got nervous, but it was hard not to be when your own boyfriend had never really seen you dance.

A short intermission after your dance allowed you to go greet everyone who’d come to see your show. “That was awesome, Y/N-ah!” Jihoon exclaimed as you hugged all of Block B.

“Truly,” Yukwon praised. You’d really hoped he’d like it, especially since his Joker dance was getting so much attention all over the world. Everyone took the turn complimenting you and asking questions about how you felt about it and why you picked that song. You noticed Jiho being unusually quiet and once everyone had calmed down, you went over to kiss him on the cheek.

“Did you like it?” you asked him.

“Loved it,” he grinned wrapping his arm around your waist. Block B went back to chatting among themselves to let you and Jiho talk. Taking notice of this, he pulled you into a hug and used his huskiest voice to whisper, “When you get home later, we can do anything you want. As long as you do another little dance for me.”

Your body temperature immediately rose. “I think I know exactly what we should do.”

I do not allow reposting or translations of any of my work.

anonymous asked:

can you pretty pretty please write more of that oq amnesia au that you wrote? I would love to read about her and Robin

Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope you’ll like it! :)

You can read the first part here -

Happy Easter everyone! 🐣


Robin has never thought he would find himself in this certain place on Easter night ever again. But here he is, walking around the empty and quiet town where years ago he met the woman of his dreams, the one and only who stole his heart.

But that woman is not his anymore. She’s the past now.

Maybe it’s one of the reasons why he came here, to say goodbye to all the memories and her (No, he came here for quite the different reason:  to recall as many memories of her as he can).

He curses himself quietly when he remembers their last meeting. From the day she appeared on his doorway, they spent a few months together, traveling around the places they’ve visited before in hopes that it will wake her memory and she’ll remember something, anything.

But they’ve been left with nothing. Her memories were lost forever.

It was breaking him into pieces to see once the strongest woman he knew this confused. He did everything in his power to help her: told her everything about them, about her. And she appreciated his help, she really did, he could see how thankful she was. Her smile was the best award.

But then one day she announced that it’s time she goes back to Storybrooke to her family (she’s grimaced at the word) and he can come back to his life for there’s no reason to waste any of their time.

That moment Robin’s heart clenched. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, not when he’s had her back. Driven by the thought, he had pulled her closer and kissed her without a second thought. Regina’s pulled away immediately, slapped him and that was the last time he saw her.

He blamed himself for ruining everything way too many times. The first time he was the one who ruined their relationship, and yet again he did that again. He knew she was uncertain and confused, and she certainly wasn’t the woman who falls in love easily.

Now all he has left are shatters of their relationship and on this special evening he decides to remember it all, to hurt himself one last time and then move on (he’ll never move on, five years already proved that).

He finds himself in the town square, the place where ten years ago he’s laid his eyes on the woman who turned his world around for the first time. He sits down on the bench that holds so many dear memories of her and closes his eyes, exhales.

“Would you mind if I sat down?”

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass until he hears the voice of her, but his eyes snap open immediately and he finds her standing there in front of him, nervously playing with her fingers.

She doesn’t wait his answer and sits down. Her body is tensed, she looks nervous and tired, but she still looks as beautiful as always and those dark eyes are wide and shining something he can’t quite catch.

He smiles despite the ache in his chest because she doesn’t remember this place but yet his stories had the effect on her because here she is, after months of not seeing each other they meet in the place where everything’s started.

“I’m sorry,” she’s the first to break the silence between them. Robin turns to look at her, ready to say that there’s no need to apologize when she adds quietly, “My heart took me here on this special evening.” Her voice is guarded, and it’s so Regina – she’s opening up, just a bit, but her walls are still around her.

Robin smiles in response.

“I wanted to apologize for the last time,” she says then, looking down at her hands. “You helped me so much and I-“

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assures her and his hand lands on hers before he can think of it, and he opens his mouth to apologize but she’s smiling, squeezing his hand. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

She nods her head and the silence surrounds them again, but now it’s peaceful, soothing. He holds her hand and his heart is fluttering in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to hug her and hold her for the rest of his life but he remembers that she’s not his Regina, she doesn’t remember what he does.

“I still don’t remember anything,” she tells him quietly after awhile, “but Robin, I can’t stop thinking about you. I try to keep you out of my thoughts but-“ her voice breaks for a moment and she inhales sharply, squeezing his hand “-but  you’re all I see every time I close my eyes. When I met you, I felt alive again. I-“ there are tears shining in her eyes now and he cannot help but cup her face in his hands, and wipe a single tear with his thumb.

All talking stops and then unconsciously she’s leaning over and so is he, and her eyes close just the moment before his lips land on hers. She doesn’t push him away this time. Instead she responds to his kiss, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him as if her life is depending on him.

He looks straight into her eyes when they pull away and there’s an unspoken agreement between them, one that tells that they’ll give each other a chance.

No words are needed then.

Regina rests her head on his shoulder while Robin wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side, sighing in relief after a long time.

They stay like this until the sunrise and then Regina invites Robin to spend Easter with her and Henry and the smile that spreads across his face is enough to make her chuckle quietly as she leans over and kisses him again.

They are going to be just fine even if she doesn’t get her memories back, Robin thinks as he takes her hand and together they walk to celebrate the most beautiful holiday of the year.

anonymous asked:

Artist au and deamus please?

AN: Anon, I am sorry it took so long to write this. I really am. I wrote half of it with a different plot then wasn’t happy with it and then I came up with this literally a few hours ago. I hope you like it!! 

Artist AU: person A is an artist who hasn’t submitted anything for their portfolio in weeks, and ends up doing a painting of person B.

Seamus’s eyebrows dart to his hairline as he stares wide-eyed at his blushing best friend who’s carefully avoiding eye contact with him.

“Wait…you…what?” Seamus asks slowly.

Dean sighs, “I…my portfolio for this term is due next week and…I just have nothing for it. Nothing has been inspiring me much these days. I try to go to the park and draw but I can’t capture the people’s gleaming faces right, I try to sketch the scenery and it doesn’t…it doesn’t come out the way I want it to or I just can’t seem to draw it but…I know you.”

Seamus merely blinks at him.

Dean wraps his arms around himself and tries to quell the sinking feeling in his stomach,

“I’ve known you forever-“

“We only met last year when we started University Dean, after I moved here.”

“Well it’s felt like forever okay?” Dean bites back lightly because it’s true. It’s only been a year and a half and yet Dean feels like he’s known Seamus his whole life. If someone were to tell him that Seamus and he were best friends in a past life, he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

“Anyway” Dean continues “I just thought if I could draw you…if you’ll let that is, then it might turn out well because I see you all the time so I know what you look like and how best to draw you but if it makes you uncomfortable or-“

“Dean” Seamus takes two steps forward until he’s standing right in front of him so Dean is forced to look into those gorgeous blue eyes which never fail to cause him to lose his train of thought.

“Of course I don’t mind. Draw me, paint me, do whatever you want with me.” Seamus says and there’s a hint of something more in his tone but Dean is sure that he is simply imagining it. Seamus has a habit of doing that and then pretending nothing ever happened so Dean has learned to ignore it.

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anonymous asked:

Saw your post about the kids thing. Will it help keep things burning if I give the prompt "Snape is haunted by his past" or does that help add some water to the flames?

Haha, thanks!  Er, it’s added some water.  I did a complete re-write, and posted this in response to your ask as opposed to the original ask where I’m sure the asker was after something more lighthearted.  (Incidentally, the prompt asked for Severus to be married with lots of kids.)

3.5k under the cut.  :)

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Don’t Wait- Yoongi (smut)

You weren’t supposed to wait for him. You were supposed to move on. Just like he had told you to five months ago. You were supposed to leave the happy memories the two of you had shared over your year and 3 months relationship and forget about him. You were supposed to find someone else to make you happy while he was away on a tour, making thousands of fans happy each night. He had made it sound so easy that night before he left.

It’s unfair on you’ He had said, his hands on either side of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair, making you look into his sad eyes. ’I can’t make you happy if I’m so many miles away’

Yes, you can! You always make me happy and the distance isn’t going to change that’ You had tried changing his mind, making him see that no matter how far apart the two of you were, you were always going to be happy as long as he called you his.

You’re saying that now, but we both know from past experiences that it makes neither of us happy when all we are able to give each other are 5 minute calls and short texts’ He spoke, shaking his head. You had tears streaming down your face and you could tell that Yoongi was trying so very hard not to cry too because it would have just made things so much more difficult for the both of you to say goodbye.

‘You’re saying this like it’s going to be easy! Why do you want to end us so much?!’ You croaked. You knew he didn’t want to and you knew his reasons behind wanting you two to break it off, but you were so hurt by the thought of not hearing his sweet voice say your name that you were speaking out of anger.

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Shell Shocked | 01

Word Count: 1.7k 

Genre: Mafia au, angst

A/N: This is something I wrote down in the beginning of April, about two months ago. This isn’t the first fic I’ve written, but it is the first one posted. So… yeah.. I still don’t know if I want a part two or even if this could be a series. Forgive me if they are any grammar or spelling errors, I haven’t proof-read it yet.

Summary: Of course going down an alley in the middle of the night was the stupidest thing anyone could ever have thought of. They would’ve given anything to have had a better idea. Because that stupid idea led to a whole chain of stupid ideas. Great, just great. 

Of course going down an alley in the middle of the night was the stupidest thing anyone could ever have thought of. They would’ve given anything to have had a better idea. Because that stupid idea led to a whole chain of stupid ideas. Great, just great.

It was around midnight and the boys were walking casually to their hotel. They were visiting Busan for a while and had an exhausting day. They’d practiced new choreography all day, non-stop. They’d all been practically jellied and they seemed to wobble out of the practice building to head back to their hotel. They were supposed to meet a driver with a car to escort them to their hotel, but it never showed up. So they decided to just walk there.

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Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa
Theme: modern!au: “yours”

Something was bothering Oikawa, so Iwaizumi was also bothered.

Rapping his knuckles on the door again, Iwaizumi’s frown deepened. He worried when Oikawa worried; Oikawa Tooru was someone who was generally calm under even the most strenuous conditions, so for something to be this upsetting to him was concerning. Iwaizumi didn’t like when Oikawa was upset. He didn’t like when Oikawa was anything but happy.

“Oikawa,” he called tiredly, hours ago abandoning the vulgarity infused nicknames, “come on, open up. I’m really getting worried. Do you want me to call someone? Have you even eaten?”

“Don’t need to.”

Iwaizumi had stepped out for an early morning work out, coming back to Oikawa locking himself in their bedroom. At first he thought it was a direly needed nap, but when lunch came and passed, he realized it was serious. Oikawa’s lunch and dinner were cold on the counter; it was nearing when they’d normally sleep and Iwaizumi had half a mind to break down the door, the only thing stopping him knowing that Oikawa didn’t want to come out. And Iwaizumi didn’t want to upset him further.

“…Was it something I did?” he asked quietly. “…Can we talk about it? Oikawa–”

“I just…” Oikawa’s voice trailed off.

Iwaizumi waited.

“…I don’t want to see you right now. I’m not angry or anything, I just… I don’t know.”

It took everything for Iwaizumi to keep his voice level. From the slight change in Oikawa’s voice, Iwaizumi could tell he was now by the door, glancing down to see a new shadow under the door. He was sitting, most likely with his back pressed to the surface. A habit he’d never gotten rid of.

Iwaizumi swallowed. He nodded. “…Okay,” he said slowly.

“Iwa–Hajime, just…”

“Just tell me one thing,” Iwaizumi said quietly. “…Are we okay?”

And Oikawa’s silence was both everything and nothing at once. 

Pushing off the wall to begin gathering bag of whatever essentials weren’t in his bedroom, Iwaizumi barely heard Oikawa calling his name not even a minute later. He didn’t return to the door but stopped moving, was frozen in the middle of their living room.

“…I’m really scared that I’m not enough for you,” he heard through the door, albeit a bit muffled. “I know what you’ll say, but… maybe that’s only for now. Maybe in ten years, or five, or even one, oh god, you’ll wake up and realize that you passed up something for me. Or you didn’t pursue someone because of me. You’re… Iwa-chan, you’re amazing, okay? And I’m afraid your kindness is going to get in the way of you being happy. And all I want is for you to be happy. I want that more than anything.”

“What are–”

“You turned down that research opportunity for me.”

“…That asshole was not supposed to have fucking told you.”

And by asshole, Iwaizumi meant Kuroo, who he had the extreme misfortune of being with when he received the news. Sighing, he dropped his bag and went over, sitting against the door, leaving it the only thing separating their backs. “…Don’t be so arrogant,” he weakly tried to tease. “It wasn’t only for you.”


“I applied for that grant years ago,” he continued. “I’m no longer interested in the topic I wrote my proposal on, I’m more than happy as a teaching assistant, and, yeah, I didn’t want to leave you. But it wasn’t only for you, okay? Oikawa, I promise you that if I went there, I’d be miserable for two years. I’m not going to regret this. I know I won’t. I’d regret taking it. That I know.”

Iwaizumi was going to bury Kuroo Tetsurou.

“You’re my home, Tooru. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here.”

Oikawa still gave no answer. His leg was bouncing; it was a nervous tic he always had, one that Iwaizumi was usually the one to quell. Kuroo had let it slip by accident over dinner last night and it left Oikawa feeling unsettled because he remembered how passionate Iwaizumi had been when applying for it. Giving a shaky breath, he rested his forehead on folded arms supported by his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything and the seconds that elapsed were absolute torture. He chewed on his lip and hardly felt something hitting his foot, eyes flickering open hesitantly.

“There. That enough proof for you?”

And even though Iwaizumi’s voice had no problem carrying through the door, Oikawa barely heard it. Because what had hit his foot, what he picked up was a silver ring, simple but elegant. It was beautiful and traditional, the exact type of ring Iwaizumi would pick out. Oikawa stood as he heard Iwaizumi weakly mumble about how there was no more milk bread, that Oikawa was seriously a monster when it came to devouring those things; unlocking the door and pulling it open, Iwaizumi seemed surprised and Oikawa could see him blushing.

“…Good,” he cleared his throat. “…Was worried your blindass eyes couldn’t see that.”


“I want to marry you,” Iwaizumi interjected quickly. “I want to be with you forever. More than anything, especially that grant. More than you love milk bread. That’s… that’s how much I love you, Oikawa, so…” he trailed off and buried his face in his hands, giving a muffled groan. “Fuck, goddamnit, this kind of shit is your thing, I don’t… if you don’t like the ring, I’ll get you another one, I didn’t know what to get and that damn person was so goddamn nosy and talkative, I just–”

“You could’ve proposed with milk bread and I would still say yes,” he said breathlessly, stepping forward to kiss him the moment Iwaizumi looked up, losing himself in an all consuming, breathless sort of kiss. They stumbled a bit from the way Oikawa leaned in so suddenly, but Iwaizumi’s hands came to rest on his hips as Oikawa’s were brought up to cup his face. He lowered one hand to press the ring against Iwaizumi’s hand and then they pulled apart only long enough for him to slip it on Oikawa’s finger, small smiles tweaking their lips before their mouths were on each other’s again.

“That’s not a fair comparison,” Iwaizumi murmured breathlessly when they broke apart.

“And why’s that?” Oikawa asked, forehead against Iwaizumi’s, fingers laced with his and still smiling as blood rushed through his veins, as his heart raced.

Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that would both lull Oikawa to sleep and wake him up ever since they were kids.

“Because you’re Godzilla when it comes to those things, I swear.”

Oikawa grinned.

“As long as I’m your Godzilla.”

anonymous asked:

AAHH! Love your drabbles and all your stories! Any chance that you could write #38 from the ficlet prompts? “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” Thank you so much for all your writing!

Ugh, so sorry this took me forever. Also, I have no idea what the freak I just wrote. Honestly. I threw this together today and it’s not betad. But I kinda likes it. Hope you do too, Anon! Also, the smut was unplanned…it just sorta…happened. *Shrug* Oh well! Smut happens. <3

REAPING DAY - 76th Hunger Games

We’re assembled in the square nearly a full hour before the broadcast is scheduled to start. It’s a warm summer day, almost pleasant in the cheerful atmosphere. For the hundredth time, I search the crowds ringing the square until I find them again, a pair of blonds in pale green dresses, white flowers woven into their hair in a semblance of a laurel wreath. The mark of a potential Tribute’s family.

My family couldn’t afford the expensive store-bought laurel wreaths that most of the other families are wearing, although my mother did finger the leaves of one as we spent yesterday morning shopping in the town square. Instead, I woke early this morning and hiked further into the mountains, to the meadow, and gathered armfuls of the white blossoms flourishing there to fashion wreaths for my family. My mother. My sister. The only two people in this world that I truly care about. If I win, I’ll be able to buy them real ones, the leaves preserved in gold foil.

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Just Give Her Some Pizza, You Little Shit

Summary: This was requested by an anon. It looks as if I deleted my request when I started working on the story, but the main point is that the reader is hypoglycemic, and Sam and Dean don’t know, so she passes out.

Word Count: 850

Warnings: none

Pairing: none

A/N: Sorry this took forever to get out! I hope everyone likes it. Remember guys, this isn’t my story. The wonderful Stanton wrote a good bit of this. You can follow him at @thelegendssaymore (fuck u Stanton)​ Also, I’m still looking for helpers! As always, thanks for reading, love y’all, and goodnight!



Dean slams his face into the keyboard, groaning in frustration.

                “Cant. Do. This,” he spits out.

                “How about a dinner break?” you pipe up. If it wasn’t the fact that Sam has been tapping his foot and humming for the past hour, it would be that this is the fourth time Dean has slammed his face into his keyboard tonight. Clearly, they needed a break, and it wouldn’t hurt your feelings to take one either. All you’ve been doing is thumbing through the same book for the past three hours.

                “Not right now,” Sam interrupted from across the room. “Dean and I have got to finish this stuff.”

                The three of you have spent the last seventeen hours in the same hotel room with the same full sized beds and the same hostile feeling in the air.

                “Guys, I really think we should get some dinner. It’s pretty late.”

                “Just let me finish this page,” Sam, who was currently buried under a pile of books, insisted. “We’ve got to find out what the hell is causing this.”

                Sighing in frustration, you throw yourself backwards onto the bed. You check your watch and begin to worry. It’s been four hours since you’ve last eaten and you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded by the minute.

                Walking to where the boys were working, you peek over Dean’s shoulder. “What could have them this hooked?” you thought. It must be a new monster.

                Dean caught you looking at his screen and turned away.

                “Guys! What am I supposed to do? You won’t let me get food for us, and now I can’t even help with the case! Please, can we go eat now?”

                “Not this minute, Y/N. I’ve seriously got to finish this,” Sam’s hand ran through his hair.

                Checking your watch again, you make your way to the fridge. You’ve got to find something to eat. It’s not good for you to go long periods of time without food.

                People like Sam and Dean are lucky, you thought. They don’t have to deal with this hypoglycemic bullshit. Flinging open the fridge, you sign in frustration. Nothing. The same as last time.

                “Sam, I’m really hungry. Can we please go get something?” The only response you got was the ticking of fingers hitting the keyboard. “Dean? What about you? Come on, let me go get some food. Let me borrow the Impala for a while.”

                His green eyes bore through yours and in an almost animal like manner, he growled, “no one touches baby.”

                Retreating from this argument with your hands raised, you spun to Sam for some more luck.

                “Sam, what about-“

                He shushed you and frantically answered his ringing phone. “Yello? Yeah. No, but I think I read about it a minute ago. One minute; I’m putting the phone down and going to get the file.”

                You made one last attempt. “You two, listen here. If one of you doesn’t either give me the keys or drive me to get some food, I’m walking out of that door and I’m not coming back.” Dean snickered, no doubt convinced you were bluffing. Sam, on the other hand, took you seriously.

                “Okay, Y/N. I promise, as soon as I’m done with this call, we’ll go,” Sam reassures you.

                “Good,” you pout like a little child.

                “Alright, I’ve found it. It looks as if…” Sam went on for at least half an hour with monster this and death that. You figured the end of the conversation had to be near, and the last thing you needed was to interrupt him and make him take longer.

                “No, I can’t say I’ve-“ was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.


                Dean slowly reaised his eyes and met Sam’s. “Did you- did you hear that?”

                “Y/N?” Sam calls.

                When you didn’t respond the boys realized where you were.

                “Oh god! She’s passed out, probably dehydrated, Dean! We need to call an ambulance,” Sam was frantic. He was checking your pulse and the elasticity of your skin. After declaring that you were in fact, alive, he went to reach for his phone.

                “Dude, no. We can’t be seen in the hospital. We just made the Most Wanted List like four days ago. Give me five minutes to call Cas and see what to do?” Dean bargained.

                “Five minutes. That’s it.”

                “Hey, uh, Cas? We kind of need you. We’re um- well, Y/N is-“

                “I’m here; what’s wrong?” Castiel was on the other side of the bed, hovering over you.

                “We don’t know. We turned around, and here she was, out cold,” Dean told Castiel everything he knew.

                “Hmm.. let’s see,” Castiel laid his hand on your hand. “Have you tried pizza? Or a hamburger?”

                “Cas, come on! This is serious. You can goof around when our Y/N isn’t unconscious. What’s going on?”

                “She’s hypoglycemic, and she’s just blacked out. She’ll be up in a minute ” Castiel promptly states.

                Castiel was beginning to walk away when Dean calls after him. “Wait! Cas, speak English!”

                “She’s hungry. Give her some pizza or something, you little shit.”

Reunited Chapter 1


An Ereri fanfic, based off of the fanarts of dreamxxdream

Chapter 1: Nineteen Years

I remember it as if it happened seconds ago. The feel of soaring through the air, calculating every movement, preparing to maneuver into a landing. Adrenaline pumping through my veins. My heart pounding against my ribcage, as if it wanted to escape to somewhere safer, because God knows what I was doing wasn’t safe. The weight of a lethal blade, raised above my head, aiming to kill a being a hundred times larger than myself.

But not deadlier.

I remember loss, war, pain. I remember everything. But, still I ponder with myself. I wonder what’s worse, being in a constant battle with the titans, knowing any moment could be your last…

…or spending five more minutes in this God awful math class.

With an irritated groan, I flopped down on the desk in front of me, slouching in my seat. It’s not that it was hard, but I never saw the point in trigonometry. Yeah, some people use it, but how often is it used in daily life? Whenever I asked for help with it when I was in high school, most adults didn’t remember. Why? Because it’s a fucking waste of time.

I could rant about math all day, much to the disdain of Armin, who loved it. That nerd loves learning, and everything about it. I’ve never gotten how he can think homework is even remotely interesting, let alone fun. But still, he took on more classes than anyone I knew, willingly. Sometimes I wonder if he does all this just to mess with my head, as it doesn’t matter how many times I’m reincarnated, I will never pursue knowledge like he does. But, it’s genuine, his desire to know.

I glance to my left at him, and am unsurprised to find him completely focused on the professor. I’d long since tuned out his lecture, but Armin looked like he was in the zone, so I didn’t disrupt him. I’m not going to bug him about it, but that doesn’t mean I have to or can understand it. Armin was wearing this argyle sweater with his jeans, which he says is comfortable, but I can’t help but tease him about delving even farther into the geek stereotype. He knows I mean well, and takes the odd jab at me too. Looking at him now, a bright university student who definitely has a damn good career in his future, I’d never guess this guy was once the strategist soldier so long ago. Picturing him in the uniform that I saw in my dreams seemed so wrong, now.

The only reason we know the dreams are memories is because we found out we have the same ones, from different perspectives. It’s hard to call it a coincidence when we finish each other’s memories as we explain what we saw when we slept. When we starting learning about the war in history, Armin and I pretty much lost our shit as we heard our teacher talk about us, the versions of us from so long ago. What I had originally thought were just nightmares were in fact my experiences, which was terrifying to a kid.

A nudge on my arm brought me back to reality. I looked at Armin to see him raising his eyebrow at me, gesturing to the notebook that lay untouched in front of me. Nodding slightly, I began to halfheartedly take notes. The words the professor was saying became jumbled, so I wrote what I picked up here and there. My thoughts were elsewhere, so concentration was pretty much out the window. Armin would let me copy his notes later.

We’d run into a few  others from our past life, and I just knew, deep in my gut, he was reincarnated too. He had to be. There’s no way this was all coincidence. I knew he had to be alive, somewhere. I just had to find him. I wondered what his second life was like. Was he happy? Did he think about me as much as I did him? Did he think about me, about any of us, at all? For all I knew, he had simply brushed off the dreams as just that – dreams. Or, maybe he pushed us, pushed me, to the back of his mind. I wouldn’t blame him. He’d seen the worst of the world and kept it inside, I know how terrible remembering, reliving, can be. The day I remembered my parent’s death nearly did me in. I’ll never forget that night. Every detail is etched into my mind. Both memories forever implanted in my brain.

I had bolted upright, startled awake in the middle of the night. I was covered in a sheen of sweat, my clothes damp and matted to my skin. My blankets had been thrown off the bed, my pillows scattered about. My cheeks were wet with tears, and I found I was gripping fistfuls of my sheets in my trembling hands. Shaking uncontrollably, I stumbled out of my room, tripping over myself in my hurry. I nearly fell into the kitchen, where my mother stood in the early hours of the morning. She had just begun heating up the stove, and jumped a little at my abrupt entrance. For a moment, I just stared at her. Dawn had just broke, and she glowed in the morning sun shining in the window, illuminating her body like the blessing she was. Her wide eyes, upon taking me in my distraught appearance, quickly turned to understanding and sympathy, with a touch of sadness. She opened her arms, and I dashed towards her. I don’t know how long I just held her like that. No words were exchanged. I just rejoiced in the fact my mother was alive and well. I hadn’t mentioned my memories before that moment, not to her, but she knew. She must have had remembered a long time before me, and I can’t imagine how worried she must have been, knowing I’d remember eventually as well. But, remembering has its benefits. For example, nothing else makes you appreciate life like that, especially a normal one, without fear. A life that some might think is boringly predictable, but I differ. I get to wake up in the morning and know I got a second chance. That somebody decided I deserved to come back and do all the things I never got to do before.

But I still could do with not doing trigonometry.

As I returned to reality from my daydream, I looked down at the notes I had been taking. I suppressed s startled gasp as I realized my “note taking” had turned into a doodle of his face. I glanced at Armin beside me as I covered my paper with my arms, but Armin was already looking at me with a an expression that clearly said “I know exactly what you are hiding.” He quietly shook his head at me as the bell rang. I gathered up my things, blushing furiously. I didn’t look at Armin as we headed out of class. I couldn’t. But, that didn’t stop me from hearing him mumble “Be glad Jean isn’t it that class. He would have had a field day with that drawing.” This wasn’t the first time Armin had caught me drawing him, but it was the first time I was doing so without realizing it. Armin didn’t approve of how often I drew him, but it was only because he didn’t want me to suffer. We didn’t know if we’d ever run into him, or if he even came back. But, I wouldn’t give up. I knew, somewhere, he was out there. I just needed to find him.

I’d find Corporal Levi if it was the last thing I did.

Jared & Jensen M&G Report - #PHXCON

This was my third time doing M&G’s with Jared and Jensen at a con. During the first con I was at, I was too stunned by them (Jared in particular) to say much of anything and didn’t actually ask any questions. During my second time I had questions for them, and I managed to ask Jared but then someone stole my question for Jensen and my back up question was more a funny question than anything else.

So I was happy when about two weeks ago inspiration hit for what I wanted to ask them:

Supernatural has been on the air for ten years now, and while season eleven has been confirmed we know the show won’t go on forever. Throughout the years you have had a front row seat to watching the story of Sam and Dean grow.

To Jared: How have you seen the character of Dean grow over the years, and what would you like to see in the character before the show ends.

To Jensen: How have you seen the character of Sam grow over the years, and what would you like to see in the character before the show ends. 

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Fic: Finding

Based on this post from otpprompts: Imagine your OTP used to exchange anonymous letters as children. Now person A goes to a university/college, and has to miss a lecture for some reason. They borrow the person B sitting next to them’s notes and find the handwriting extremely familiar…

Mentions of the Sadie Hawkins dance, but ultimately a fluffy fic. PG-13, ~2200 words

Kurt felt like lukewarm death. This was an improvement over the last couple days, at least, when he had felt like hot death, but he could still have passed on getting this ridiculous sinus infection.

He curled up on top of his tiny lecture hall desk as best he could, hoping for a quick power nap before class started and he had to focus again. He’d already missed both lectures last week when the worst of his infection was upon him, so he couldn’t afford to be physically present but mentally somewhere else that day, unfortunately.

“Hey, you feeling better?” a familiar voice asked him, prompting Kurt to smile into his scarf. “I missed you last week. Professor Kent wore this atrocious orange and purple argyle sweater vest, and I had no one to mock it with.”

“Poor you,” Kurt teased, lifting his head just enough to catch Blaine’s look of despair. “I was busy trying to keep my sinuses from exploding and ruining my bone structure.”

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Three Little Words

{~1k |}

Dean never thought it would be easy to be in love with an Angel, but the fact that said Angel is currently on the other side of the country makes everything that much more complicated.

I miss you.

He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but somewhere in the hazy realm between being awake and asleep the words had made themselves to the forefront of his mind. And Cas had heard them.


Dean opened his eyes, stared up at the inky darkness of the ceiling.

“Shit,” he said aloud, throwing back the covers and sitting up in bed. He glanced first at his alarm clock (3:48AM. Great.) and then at his phone. Could a prayer be undone?

He knew it was impossible even as he thought it. Those things were basically direct transmissions to Angels; they were like emails that way. Dean had always hated emails.

He buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan. He’d tried so hard to be okay with the fact that Cas was away more often than not lately; the phone calls had been kept to a minimum, and on the rare occasions that Cas was at the Bunker, Dean had been the picture of nonchalance. Anything to avoid coming off as needy.

And now he’d blown it all. Cas would know.

His phone remained dark and silent on the bedside table, and a flicker of hope unfurled in Dean’s chest. Maybe he hadn’t thought the words directly at Cas. Maybe it hadn’t actually–

As if on cue, the phone buzzed, its screen lighting up and illuminating the room: Castiel calling.

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