treacherous feelings

Leave Me Breathless

Originally posted by kevinkeller

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Reader

Request: “68 & 73 with Zach Dempsey?? If just one number than just 68 :,) <3.”


68. “Your girlfriend would hate me even more.”
73. “Where did you get that hickey?”

Word count: 1.695

Posted: 09th of May 2017

A/N: This is the first request that I got for my personal prompt list and I must say that I had fun on writing this. These prompts helped me to write these requests faster. In fact, I already have another two drafts from my prompt requests. I am so excited to write them all and there are still some numbers left, so don’t hesitate to request. Thank you for this request and for the others that I received.

P.S.: I am not accepting part 2 requests as I have more than 50 prompts to write. I am so sorry.

- G. x

Link: Prompt list

Warning: slightly swearing, betraying

“Hey (Y/N)!” Your best friend Zach softly greeted you as he entered the school library. He put his backpack on the large desk in front of him and took the seat beside you.

“Wow, Zachary Dempsey in the library!” You mocked while you were poking him with your pen. “Tell me, you need to meet your girlfriend here, right?”

“Uhm,” He scratched his head with a wide I’m-in-a-trouble smile. “yup.”

“I noticed.” You smiled at him, but quickly looked away as you continued writing for your Science test for the next hour.

“Did you skip History class to study?” He asked, even though he was just stating the obvious. Zach knew your timetable, although the only class you had together was Peer Communications.

“I thought it was already obvious.” You flashed him your judging face and he rolled his eyes in response. You giggled softly and Zach just huffed.

You’ve always liked Zach, but you never had the guts to tell him the truth. You were so insecure of yourself and you were afraid that he would never love you back. In fact, it broke your heart when he announced you that he started to date Meghan, one of the cheerleaders at Liberty High.

You were thankful though, because your relationship with Zach didn’t change, not even a tittle, or maybe some little things changed.

You’ve always had that more than best friends but less than lovers relationship with Zach and you were both okay with that. In fact, it never bothered you to kiss him during one of your friends’ house parties. Sometimes he would even tell you some sexual jokes, but you never pushed further than a passionate and deep French kiss. Of course, this thing has changed, because he was already dating someone and it wasn’t the right thing to cheat on his girlfriend.

“Hey, are you okay?” Zach called for your attention by waving his hand in front of you and you harshly shook your head to forget your thoughts about your best friend. You felt your cheeks burning at the thought of kissing Zach and you knew that he noticed your bright red face.

“Oh, yup.” You flashed him a sweet smile, but then you decided to stand up and head to the shelves, where Science books were located, to hide your blushing cheeks. You looked for a book that might be handy during your test and you freely released your tensed sensation.

You looked for some books while you wished that Zach didn’t follow you so you could calm yourself down.

“What the fuck!?” You loudly exclaimed as you held your chest for the shock. You saw Zach standing behind the shelves, leaning on the candid and cold wall of the library as he observed you.

“Shush!” You heard someone shouting from afar and you assumed that it was the old librarian, who sat on her computer desk near the entrance of the library.

“Sorry.” You and Zach said in unison and you slapped him using a thick textbook that you had in your hand.

“I didn’t mean to, sorry.” Zach whispered and you rolled your eyes as you stopped hitting him with the book.

“Fine.” You softly said and you decided to walk back to your place, but Zach stopped you as he held your forearm firmly. “What?”

“I miss you.” He sincerely said as you looked at your forearm, wrapped with Zach’s big hand. You knew what he meant and you obviously felt the same.

“Zach,” You pulled your forearm back and his hand fell in his side. You put the book back to the shelf as you tried to clear things with Zach. “you know that we can’t do those things, anymore.”

“I know, but I miss your lips. I miss your kisses.” He sadly confessed. He didn’t want to be a treacherous boyfriend, but the feeling was stronger than he was. He missed you a lot and the weight he had in his chest surely didn’t help him to forget your kisses. “I miss you, (Y/N).”

“Zach, I don’t want to betray people.” You looked at him and you read what his brown eyes tried to tell you. He was surely sad and he had this feeling that he was about to lose you because of the presence of his actual girlfriend. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

“I know, no one deserves this,” He unleashed a long deep sigh and he pulled you closer to him. “but I love you, (Y/N). I love you and not Meg.”

“Zach, this is so wrong. I love you too, but this is about lacking respect for someone.” You insisted, but Zach didn’t listen to you. You confessed your feelings and you were shocked for what he has just said to you, but that wasn’t the most important thing during that moment. You were about to betray someone and you couldn’t stand that feeling.

You were about to open your mouth to say something else, to start a debate between you and Zach but you suddenly felt his soft red lips on yours.

You were shocked at first, but you could never lie to yourself. You missed Zach’s kisses too and you longed for his lips every time you would see him with his girlfriend. You would always wish that he was your boyfriend.

The kiss became passionate when you responded back to his movements. He gently pushed you against the wall, behind some book shelves so people wouldn’t have the chance to see you. He held your hips tightly and you wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly tiptoeing because of your height difference.

The kiss wasn’t just a normal kiss. It was one of those breathtaking kisses, those kisses that could leave you breathless.

“Zach!” You shouted whispering as you broke the kiss. The reality sank in your mind and you felt disgusting, realizing what you were doing. You slowly unwrapped your arms from his neck as you panted for the deep kiss that you just had. “Your girlfriend would hate me even more.

“She will never know, (Y/N).” He leant in once again and he started to kiss your forehead, your temples, your cheeks and he went down to kiss your neck. He left some wet kisses on it and you wanted him to stop, but something suddenly took your voice away. Instead of barricading him, you pushed him closer to your neck and pulled his soft black hair.

You let him do what he had in his mind and you encouraged him to keep on doing it as you felt him sucking your neck hardly. You slightly let out a soft moan, it was so soft that only Zach could hear it.

It felt great, breathless just like the kiss before, but it was a little bit pungent and painful too. He bit your neck and continued marking your neck as if it was his own territory.

“Zach?” Your eyes shot open as you heard Meghan’s voice and you slightly pushed Zach away. The tranquil paradise that you were imagining has been changed by the loud and deafening shouts of hell.

Zach rolled his eyes and huffed against your skin. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and you smiled at him. He caressed the love bite that he has just left and he smirked at you.

“Idiot.” You shook your head and you tiptoed to give him a quick peck on his lips. He was shocked, but then smiled at you. You liked what you did, although you felt horrible. You really felt horrible.

“Naughty.” He whispered and you winked at him. You made your way back through the shelves and grabbed the book that you were holding before the things between you and Zach happened.

“Hey Meg!” You cheerfully greeted as you saw her walking on the same aisle you were in. “What’s up?”

“Hey (Y/N)!” She pulled a fake smile as she greeted you. She has always hated you since she discovered that you were Zach’s best friend. It was great, wasn’t it? “Did you see Zach? His things were on the table.”

“Yeah, he was searching for something before but then I lost him.” You raised your shoulders as you lied through your teeth. You felt bad, of course, but you would never want Zach to be in a great trouble with her.

“OMG,” Her eyes grew wide as she didn’t mind your answer and you noticed that her gaze fell on your neck. “Where did you get that hickey?

“Oh, this?” You pretended that you didn’t know what she was talking about at first, but then you pointed at the love bite that you had on your neck. Your eyes grew wide as you peeked at it and it revealed you the reddish purple colour of it, almost scarlet.

“Yes!” She smirked at you, obviously not knowing from who it was, you honestly felt sorry for the innocent girl during that moment. You saw Zach walk near the two of you, leaving a little bit of space between him and Meghan.

“Just a weekend fling, nothing much.” You sugarcoated your lies with a sweet smile and you turned your head to Zach. “Oh, look. He’s here.”

“Oh, I noticed.” She nodded and smiled at you. Zach didn’t seem so excited to see his girlfriend, but it wasn’t one of your businesses.

“See you around guys!” You looked at Zach and you flashed him a naughty smirk. You noticed that he giggled a little bit and you winked at him, Meghan obliviously stood few steps away from Zach, thinking that you were teasing Zach with her.

“See you, (Y/N)!” They softly said in unison and you started to walk back to your place, packing up your things and you headed to the librarian to borrow the book that you needed.

You smiled at the thought of the kiss that you shared with Zach, but a knot was built in your stomach as soon as the thought of betraying his girlfriend sank in your mind.

How was the kiss? It was incredibly great. What might happen after? It would be plausibly terrible.

I’m Finally Holding You (Even If It’s Just In Our Anthology) (And Even To Ransom Of Forgetting)

It is swimming through
wavelengths of colour
to find a fixed white dot
where all the saturating
and separation came from.

It is staggering through
blood-painted eggshells
to find all the prism shards
in between your toes
that bled out sweet adoration.

It is slicing through
wayward webbing of words
to recover a cracked front
worn so protectively taut
and making it statuesque.

It is surviving through
our daily epithelial casings
to leave something behind
that isn’t either of us
or lost in a trail of skins.

crazy-fruit  asked:

Another prompt for Rebelcaptain: Telling each other the stories behind their scars. Thank you ♡♡♡

here you go, friend! <3

The scar zigzags down her side, puckered white along the ridges of her ribs. Cassian’s fingers still the first time they brush over it. With her head on his chest, she can feel his intake of breath.

“That’s nothing,” she says—a reflex, automatic. But she feels softer in the cool glow of this little room, stripped of clothes and shields alike. And Cassian is the first person in a long time with whom lying has felt worse than telling the truth.

She takes a breath.

“It was a long time ago,” she starts. Cassian’s hand sweeps down to trace a line along her bare hip.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he murmurs. She closes her eyes, shifting closer.

“I was six,” she continues. That the words are coming out at all feels remarkable. “Or seven, maybe.”

Cassian’s hand stills again, and Jyn shakes her head, kissing his chest.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. No shootouts, nothing like that. I was just…young and clumsy. I fell.”

Cassian makes the soft sound in his throat that tells her that he’s heard her, that he’s listening, that she has the space to keep talking or stop talking. That it’s up to her.

There are so very many things she loves about this man, but that sound might top the list.

“My father—” She starts, stops, swallows. Starts again: “Papa found me, bloody and screaming. Mama stitched me up, and Papa sang the whole time to try to keep me calm. In the end, I think he cried more than me.”

Cassian finds her hand splayed against his side, slides his fingers through hers.

“I’m glad,” he whispers.

She can already feel treacherous and wet something welling up at the corners of her eyes. She bites down at her lip.

“What?” she asks, the tremor in her voice not quite masked. “Glad that I got hurt? I couldn’t walk right for weeks.”

“I’m glad,” continues Cassian—soft, patient, “that you were so loved.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything. She can’t. She can only lie there like an exposed nerve as Cassian shifts and gently, gently presses his lips to her forehead.

She appreciates that he doesn’t say the words; it would be too much to hear them out loud. But she feels them, knows them to be true.

You still are.


Brett Talbot x Reader

A/N: Splendid idea from my source of inspiration/ideas, @lazyneonmonster.  This also turning out fluffier than I imagined..


“Hi Y/N, Brett, nice to see you both!” Scott greeted when you step through the door of Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, having Brett right behind you for support. Your face brightened up when you saw your former friend and classmate.

You didn’t manage to take a single step until he came to meet you and give you a hug. “What are you even doing here? Didn’t you and Brett move away from Beacon Hills about two years ago?” he asked and you backed up to purse your lips into a thin line.

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anonymous asked:

how is a remontada with ref advantage (which even PSG legally complained about) better than winning the champions league? i don't get why culés are so proud of a game that caused as much controversy and will most likely be remembered like that game against chelsea in 2009

Your team has just been thrashed 4-0 in the first leg, a match you expected to win. They play atrociously and are absolutely humiliated. All the media is ridiculing your team. End of an era, they say with glee. But it’s Barcelona, and if anyone can pull off a remontada it’s Barcelona, they say. The players and the coach talk about a comeback. You start to believe, against logic, that maybe the team could pull it off. 

The day of the match arrives and you’re nervous. Your team scores 2 minutes into the match and you see a glimmer of hope, yet you still convince yourself not to expect too much. They score one more before halftime and you see the possibility of a comeback happening. You’re excited. You want to believe. At the beginning of the 2nd half they score again and you definitely believe now. It seems almost inevitable. But they concede and suddenly, your hopes deflate. You tell yourself you shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place. The score remains till the 85th minute and you have lost all hope by then. No team has ever done it before, and no team will ever do it. 

But, Neymar scores a free kick. A nice consolation, nothing more. Yet a few minutes later, you get a penalty. Albeit a dubious one but you hold your breath and it’s in. You start to hope again. Hope, that treacherous feeling that refuses to be suppressed. The whole stadium is cheering the team on. The team attacks relentlessly, searching for the winner. The clock ticks down and it’s the last minute of added time. It’s now or never, you think, as a free kick is given for a foul on your goalkeeper. Neymar takes it, it’s cleared, and for a moment you think it’s all over but he gets it and sends in a cross, perfectly lofted. Time seems stop as you see Sergi running towards the trajectory of the ball, stretching, guiding it to the back of the net with the outside of his boot. You can’t believe it. The team erupts, the stadium too, and so do you. You scream and shout and cry and pray, because how else do you explain what you’ve just witnessed? 

Re: the refereeing, I can’t talk about Chelsea 2009 because I have not watched the match. I admit that Suarez’s penalty shouldn’t have been given and the foul on Di Maria should have been a penalty. But don’t forget that there were two handballs by PSG not given as well. Referee mistakes are unavoidable in any game. PSG may have submitted an official complaint but their chairman and players did not blame the referee at all. We pulled off the remontada because of the players, not because of the referee. It was nothing less than a miracle which reminded us of the beauty of football. As cules, how could we not be proud of it?

We Sleep In Pairs

Pairing: Dirk Gently/ Todd Brotzman

Rating: T

Words: 6.718

The sky is blue above him when Dirk opens his eyes, Black Wing has set him free, and there is just one way for him to get back home, to Farah, to Amanda. To Todd.
He walks.

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Could Roses Bloom VI

Previous parts (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Inspiration (x)

The feeling of loss can be best compared to a knife.

For loss can be either blunt or sharp, short or long yet no matter the shape or size of it, it always hurts when it cuts you.

It can leave a clean cut with the barest of scars as its healed with time, the pain dimmed by closure and the sense of loss balanced with that of good and pleasant memories. Yet if one is not so lucky, the wound will infect. Fester. Throb and hurt and sting in a constant reminder of the pain and it will leave a scar for everyone to see.

And oh it can be made so much worse with so much ease, twisting the knife in deeper and deeper.

A misplaced word here, an unbidden memory there, loss is always lurking for an opportunity to rear its ugly head. And it can make one wonder if the knife that cut them was rusty and old with how deeply the wound hurts.

Jim is unfortunately familiar with the concept of loss.

What it means to be left behind with only your heart bleeding in the palms of your hands.

The loss of his father which despite not ever having known him haunts him his entire life. Has caused him the loss of his mother and that, to some extent, has made him lose Sam.

He’s had all semblances of family ripped away from him, the loss of which has left a large, gaping wound in his heart that scarred him for life.

And then on the verge of finding a new family – a father-figure that cared, that lectured, challenged, taught and loved in his own silent way – it was ripped from his hands again.

Another loss.

Another scar.

How foolish he’d been for hoping – that treacherous feeling again – that that would be the end of it.

How naïve to think that since there is no family left to take it would’ve meant he had nothing left to lose.

For sometimes it feels like Death is a knife thrower and Jim’s heart the target.

She must be.

How else does Jim end up in Med Bay with panic constricting his throat, his heart and hands clenched in both anger and fear?

How else does a simple and textbook research mission turn into the CMO being beamed straight into Med Bay with a heavy allergic reaction?

How ironic is it that it’s Leonard and not Jim that lays on the Biobed, ghostly pale and thankfully the swelling has subsided but his breaths are still raspy?

And all Jim can think is that it hurts.

It hurts more than losing his family. It hurts more than dying.

Sitting next to Leonard’s bed and waiting, waiting for him to wake up while Jim is useless – wasn’t there, couldn’t help – is tearing him apart.

And for a fleeting moment he thinks that if this is love, he doesn’t want it.

He does not want to feel like his whole universe has imploded on itself just because Leonard has gotten hurt.

He does not want to love so much that it’s a constant of Bones, Bones, Bones.

He does not want his heart in a million pieces because Leonard’s love is not the same as his.

But then he glances to his left, at Leonard’s face which looks peaceful in his recovering reverie and his heart both sings and weeps.

Because it’s a lie, isn’t it?

For oh, how he wants.

Leonard, his heart, his body, his soul.

His love.

Jim is greedy, he wants it all.

But he’s never gotten what he wanted and Fate is a cruel mistress so sitting at Leonard’s bedside, his fingers wrapped around Leonard’s and his eyes staring unseeingly at the wall, for the first time, Jim has no hope.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be in- or excluded!): @mccoymostly @outside-the-government @southernbellestatues @imoutofmyvulcanmind @wonders-of-the-enterprise @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @trade-baby-blues @auduna-druitt @emmkolenn @captainsbabysitter-blog @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @startrekwonderer @goingknowherewastaken

Bossy as Usual (III)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You/Jinyoung

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2,489

Summary:   After your less than professional encounter on a plane, you find out your new business partner is Park Jinyoung. A man whom, despite all the reasons otherwise, you find impossible to stay away from.

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The Words Never Said

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Pt 2 - The Words Should’ve Said

Summary: And you most certainly didn’t expect him to play along as if he didn’t know that what he was doing was inching you closer to the revelation you never wanted.


The best word to represent the relationship between you and Jeon Jungkook. You two were like peas in a pod, birds of a feather, whatever expression there is in the world - you and him were just that. Where was Jungkook? Go ask (F/n). You were hardly away from him since you both took the same classes and live right next to each other. Nothing truly stopped the two of you from seeing one another, being that way for as long as you could remember.

You told him everything and he told you everything. All your secrets and deepest, most secured secrets were voiced out when Jungkook was there. He probably knew more about you than you knew yourself - from the position you wake up in to the temperature of water you use to shower. Jungkook just knew everything about you and you could safely say that you knew everything about him.

Similar to you, Jungkook entrusted you with the most intricate, treacherous secrets and feelings stored in his heart. Whenever his heart was feeling down, you were the hearer of his worries, as well as the comforter in his down. Sometimes you thought you knew too much about Jungkook. One time you were supposed to write your phone number on a paper, but you accidentally wrote Jungkook’s phone number. Let’s just say that Jungkook got plenty of phone calls from your favorite panties store that month.

Of course you expected this inseparable relationship to carry on to your high school years since you and him were so intent on making as many memories as possible in these final years of schooling. Of course, then, you weren’t expecting how high school slowly chipped away the bond that held you and Jungkook together for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t necessarily Jungkook’s fault, it was high school and all its minions fault. From stress at school work to Jungkook’s developing good looks to your own problems, high school slowly lengthened the bridge that connected your life to Jungkook’s life.

High school obviously brought fractures in your close knit friendship with Jungkook, but you honestly didn’t expect the bone chilling, fearful feeling you felt whenever you were in his presence as if every movement, every breath was one step closer to your breakdown. You honestly didn’t expect that he would be the root to all your problems in high school and he laughed, smiled, enjoyed his high school experience as you felt yourself breakdown as each day went on. You honestly didn’t expect him to be influenced oh so easily and to turn against you with the petty words of random girls.

And you most certainly didn’t expect him to play along as if he didn’t know that what he was doing was inching you closer to the revelation you never wanted.

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Could Roses Bloom III

Previous parts (x) (x)

Hope is one of the most treacherous feelings in the world.

Either uniting in its purity or destroying with its force.

For hope transcends all boundaries of self-perseverance.

It creates the illusion of a chance, of success on the horizon of a distant future while dispelling objections,fear, doubt. It eradicates the question of why and instead turns it into a why not with all consequences one might expect to find attached to that.

It is either glorious success or a bitter defeat yet with a feeling as strong as hope it is only rarely that people can proclaim themselves true victors.

Jim has always been dreadfully hopeful from deep inside the most fragile part of his soul.

When he was six-going-on-seven and he kept looking at the front door over the small cake on the table in front of him because “mommy might come home”.

When he was thirteen and learned for the first time what it was like to really be starving.

When he was seventeen and got his graduation papers handed to him, eyes lingering over the crowd for familiar faces.

Jim has always hated the blooming feeling in his chest, the warmth, the light of hope in the darkness of a disappointing life. Because hope is a fragile thing and just like all other fragile things, it breaks.

When his mommy never comes for his seventh birthday.

When his body is thin, emaciated, his cheeks hollow and his stomach still empty.

When all of his fellow students are congratulated by parents, brothers and sisters, friends while Jim stands by and watches, paper clenched in his hands.

So truly, Jim should have known better.

When he’d said I love you and had told himself there were no no-win scenarios, that was hope speaking.

He had known that hope, in his case, was usually futile and yet he had hoped.

Still hopes.

For Leonard has never let him down. Has always been there, time and time again rebuilding the bridge over the dark river of heartache in Jim’s chest, created by one too many hopes crushed.

He didn’t crush Jim’s hopes when they started sharing rooms, when Jim dreamt of being Captain, when he got Jim onto the Enterprise, when he saved Jim’s life – and keeps doing it over and over again.

And despite not having the same feelings of love for Jim as Jim holds for him, he still hasn’t let Jim down.

Hasn’t crushed Jim’s hopes.

Hasn’t necessarily rejected him.

Instead it feels as if every day, Leonard’s regard of Jim changes. Morphs, transforms into something bigger and bigger every time he lays eyes on his friend.

Almost as if with his admission, Jim has planted his own seed in muddy ground.

One his friend seems to cherish, to have taken into open palms to hold it out to the falling rain so that it might one day grow.

And Jim lets him.

Lets Leonard tend to the garden of seedlings growing slowly on top of the grave of his buried love.  

And he hopes.

Hopes that for once, his hope will bloom in something beautiful amidst the ruins of destruction it has left behind.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be in- or excluded!)@mccoymostly @outside-the-government @southernbellestatues @imoutofmyvulcanmind @wonders-of-the-enterprise @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @trade-baby-blues @auduna-druitt @emmkolenn @captainsbabysitter-blog @to-pick-ourselves-up-7

Seokjin Scenario: Running On Empty - Part 1

Request:  Hello loves, can I request a scenario where y/n gets jealous of Jins on screen partner in a drama (who he always has to act lovey dovey to on screen/on variety shows etc. ) and decided she couldn’t take it any longer and wants to break up with him. I dont mind if it ends in a sad ending or not like Jin wouldn’t give up on her or he lets her go. Please surprise me ~

Genre: Angst / Drama

Part 2

In other circumstances, perhaps  when your mind wasn’t so troubled, so messed up in a tangle of feelings that were eating you inside out, then maybe you’d have enjoyed the pleasant travel of your boyfriend’s lips down your neck, making their way to the expanse of tender skin that the low collar of your blouse leaved exposed, would not feel like you were lying on a cold stone instead of your own mattress, and instead of finding the soft pressure of his body against yours comfortable, you felt like you were asphyxiating by the second.

– Jin… Jin stop– you pushed him away by his shoulders, your fingers landing on his warm bare skin.

–What happens? – Jin looked down at you, holding himself up with an arm next to your waist on the mattress while his other hand caressed the side of your neck with careful fingertips, you were sure he could feel the treacherous wild beating of your heart because your body wanted him to go on yet your mind wasn’t up for it.

–I don’t feel like it – You whispered, looking away from him and suddenly feeling the increasing need of covering yourself with a sheet even though your clothes were mostly still on, but you were feeling so cold.

You heard him sitting back on his heels, clearing his throat softly and running a hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

–Alright – Jin said, and you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. – Are you…–

–I want to sleep – you interrupted him, standing up from the bed. It was like it finally was sinking on you the rush of posts and articles about Seokjin’s new role in his drama and the way he seemed to get along so extremely well with his screen partner, almost like a couple, you’d read and it only served to sow a coldness through your body. –Alone–

You finished and Jin moved away from your bed as well, looking for his shirt and other things.

–Good night then Y/N– he spoke with that tone of his that meant he knew you needed to talk about something, Jin was just too much of a gentleman to push it when you needed time alone. He moved to kiss you but you turned your head, making him kiss your cheek instead.

–Good night Jin–

He smiled thinly at you and nodded. You saw him leave and hugged your middle, trying to push away the doubts clawing at your soul. You’d been so happy for Jin being casted in that new drama, so incredibly excited for his success, yet you were never expecting to feel threatened by his partner, a girl you weren’t really sure you could compete against.

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the sum of your parts, aaron/robert, teen.

(as part of his therapy, aaron’s asked to write down the things in his life that make him happy - for @smittenwithsugden)


olivia liv being liv’s brother

Aaron gets a cheap little notebook at David’s, with spiraling at the edge. It fits in his pocket with a little persuading, and it takes him a while to get used to the weight of it. He takes it out, puts it away, and takes it out again - but it’s days before he can actually bring himself to scribble anything down. Even then he can’t make it work - all his words seem disjointed and cliche and hollow.

“What’re you doing?” Liv asks, flopping down onto the couch, Aaron almost popping his shoulder out trying to jam the notebook back in his pocket.

“I thought you were with Gabby?”

Liv pulls a face. “No? She’s doing some naff hair thing with her mum, I donno. What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” Aaron says, munching on his thumb nail, the notebook jutting into his thigh. He can feel the sharp edge of her gaze - they’re so much closer now, she always wants to know he’s okay.

“Has anyone told you you’re a totally crap liar?”

“Yeah, prob’ly around the same time I told you to stop saying that word.”

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What Taylor Swift songs the Signs are
  • Aries: The Story of Us, Should've Said No, and Welcome to New York.
  • Taurus: Mine, Never Grow Up, and Red.
  • Gemini: Come Back... Be Here, Holy Ground, and We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.
  • Cancer: Enchanted, Tied Together with a Smile, and I Knew You Were Trouble.
  • Leo: Long Live, Clean, and Starlight.
  • Virgo: Wildest Dreams, Begin Again, and Haunted.
  • Libra: Everything Has Changed, Sparks Fly, and I Wish You Would.
  • Scorpio: Blank Space, Bad Blood, and The Other Side of the Door.
  • Sagittarius: 22, State of Grace, and Wonderland.
  • Capricorn: Dear John, The Last Time, and I Know Places.
  • Aquarius: Ours, Tell Me Why, and Fearless.
  • Pisces: Last Kiss, This Love, and New Romantics.
Can we talk about Solas?

About the enthusiasm that always threatens to break through when you ask him about the Fade?

About the concern and respect he has for any Inquisitor thats tried to understand him and his point of view?

About how he was willing to share his safe place, his own dreams of the Fade, with the Inquisitor?

About the underlying doubt and disappointment he has for himself throughout the whole game?

About how much anguish he feels staring at the smouldering, black fragments of the orb, wondering if it was all for not?

About the want in him that pulls Lavellan back to return the kiss, not once, but twice in the dream, because she changed everything?

About the sorrow that keeps his touches so featherlight in the waking world, she can handle herself but he needs to be there to catch her in case, because this is all his doing?

About the way he empathizes her when he reveals the truth about the vallaslin, because he knows all to well what its like to have gotten something so wrong by simply not knowing?

About the way he looks at her, the tattoos gone and calls her beautiful, as if nothing he’s ever seen before is even remotely close to the woman before him now?

About the way he has to contain his own treacherous feelings when he becomes the one to wound her indomitable spirit?

About how he needs to keep going on, because the People need him, and she’s the brightest of them all?

simplystiles  asked:

Nasti can you write me something to make me feel better? Or show me a pretty picture. Or a nice gif. Or a nice word. Or a nice face. Really anything nice. This week's been sucky.

I’m sorry, boo :( Hope this makes you feel at least a tiny bit better.


Scott comes skidding into the room, barely avoids slamming into the next wall with his phone clasped firmly in his hand. He has this look on his face that means he wants something, and that something is most likely something Stiles won’t like.

“Dude,” Scott starts, and comes to sit down next to him on the couch. “Buddy. Bro.”

“Do you think you have Syphilis again? ‘Cause if you need me to check you know you don’t have to butter me up for it,” Stiles says as he caps his highlighter. As far as boundaries go, they maybe only have a handful left that they both swore not to cross, and seeing each other naked isn’t one.

“Aww, that’s actually sweet of you,” Scott says, smiling brightly. He pats Stiles’ shoulder in gratitude, before his face gets all serious. “I need a favour.”

“Lay it on me.”

Scott squirms a little, eyes flitting down to his phone, and not coming up to meet Stiles’ again. It’s cute how Scott still seems to have reservations about asking Stiles for something, as if there’s anything Stiles wouldn’t do for him. Yet, Scott’s moral compass is far straighter than Stiles’, so Scott stalling means it’s something he’s not entirely comfortable asking for. On the other hand, he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, so Stiles doesn’t have any qualms about it.

“Do you need me to get rid of a body?” Stiles prompts, lifts both eyebrows when Scott starts spluttering indignantly.

“No of course not.” Scott takes a deep breath. “I need this weekend off, so I wondered if maybe you could just work your magic, and blow my boss again?”

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anonymous asked:

Ok if I remember correctly haha the prompt was something like if in the French mistake Jensen and Misha were in a relationship (or married), how would Dean react and how would Sam react and how it would affect Dean and Cas' relationship back in their normal world? (And Misha wouldn't get stabbed in this au) Hope this helps modulate you :) love you ~

“Dear Castiel, who art maybe running his ass away from Heaven, we pray that you have your ears on. So… Breaker, breaker?”

Dean opens his eyes slowly but no luck. Whatever weird-ass world they’ve fallen into, they seem to have fallen into it without Cas. Which is fine, whatever. They’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this without him.

Sam closes his eyes with a sigh and rubs his face frustratedly. Yep. That’s pretty much what Dean’s feeling too.

“Okay so, any plan B?” Dean asks hopefully after a minute of standing there silently, hoping despite himself that he’ll hear that tell-tale sound of fluttering wings.

Sam opens his eyes and Dean can see the gears in his head grind to a jarring halt and he only has a second to wonder what the hell’s managed to make him speechless before he feels a pair of very strong, very warm, very male arms wind around his waist and pull him tightly back against a very solid chest.

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Snakes-Chapter 1

(I know I said this was gonna be a oneshot; look, it’s just three chapters, okay? I can write short things. Stop looking at me like that.)

When one of Stan’s old “pals” shows up at the Mystery Shack, at first Mabel is super excited to meet Grunkle Stan’s friend … or is he more than a friend? But as the rest of the house starts to warm up to this Jimmy Snakes character, Mabel becomes more and more certain that something is wrong. Grunkle Stan’s being too quiet and his smiles don’t look right. It’s weird, and uncomfortably familiar.

Thanks and apologies to @thesnadger for beta-ing.

Warnings: Abusive relationship, manipulation, implied sexual content


Stan nearly hadn’t recognized him at first; he hadn’t aged a day.

He’d run into one or two of his old pals in the last few years. You wouldn’t think that middle-of-nowhere Oregon was the kind of place too many people would pass through, but something about the town seemed to attract weirdos. If he was being honest, he’d probably say that that’s how he’d ended up there himself.

One of those reunions had ended with the two of them getting thrown out of the local biker bar, just like old times. The other one had ended with Stan chasing the man off with a shotgun while clutching at his bleeding side. Guess in a way that was also just like old times.

But both of them had been old, like him. Grizzled and wrinkled, with skin that was leathery from all their years on the road. Their long hair was more gray than not, and their arms were darkened with liver spots.

So when Jimmy Snakes sauntered into the Mystery Shack gift shop looking like he’d stepped straight out of 1978, Stan’s first reaction was disbelief.

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