wait i hope that does not catch on

I love you on a Monday
When the world is too busy hating
When the office is too noisy preparing
My hearts does a somersault knowing you’ll be there waiting
And as I jump out of the car running late,
I love you in between adrenaline rates
I love you on a Monday date

I love you on a Tuesday
As I catch a glimpse of you working
On a requirement due an hour of submitting
I would walk up to you hoping
That you would look up noticing
That despite the colors from an artwork you’re painting
The static from my eyes are still more electrifying
Because yours do
And always will
I love you on a Tuesday

I love you on a Wednesday
When twenty minutes of break feels like seconds
When your smiles feel like weapons
And every word is a powerful opinion
That targets my heart in every direction
Every joke is a doorway
Every moment is on replay
Going home late was suddenly okay
I love you more on a Wednesday

I love you on a Thursday
When I ramble about books and comments
And you don’t care about my looks and nonsense
When you remind me of today’s contents
Of happiness, songs, movies, and events
I suddenly wish I have the power to prevent
The curtains from closing this extent
The hours ending from today,
Your hands on mine promising ‘someday’
And when we reach the finish line of today’s raceway,
Remember that I love you on a Thursday

I love you on a Friday
When everyone is busy planning their night
And me hoping everything is alright
As you walk towards my desk in sight,
As my heart beats faster when you meet the light
From the room’s window where I write
My heart elevates on every flight
Up there it goes beyond my height
But there you go,
You skipped my place
Moving your way towards a girl in lace
My heart fell as you embrace
“Where did I go wrong?” I asked the empty space
I love you on a Friday’s lonely night case

I love you on a Saturday
When I gracefully tell myself not to talk to you again
When I constantly remind myself I am not your gem
You messaged me then
Saying you had a great weekend
And I love you so much it hurts
The pain gets worse
As I grip tightly at the hem of my shirt
“I’m happy for you”, I silently blurt
Please don’t drift away
Please don’t be another soon-to-end holiday
Not another visitor on a railway
I love you so much on a Saturday

I love you on a Sunday
As you take her hand and introduce her
As my heart beats slow down and blur
When her eyes are what you prefer
And I am nothing as I infer
Only, I know better
That loving you wasn’t guaranteed to be an open airway
Nor was it just an easy hundred-word essay
It was meeting you halfway
It was shards of glass on the highway
It was sacrificing you away
It was already seeing dismay
Yet going for it anyways
I love you not only on the weekdays
Nor do I love you only on Saturdays and Sundays
For I love you and when I do,
I love you every day.

Rest Stop Part 2

“How long until they know?” Lance shifted and sighed. How long until they know?

He was perched up in the team nest, worriedly watching the team pass by underneath him. Keith had ran to, and then back, from training a while ago. Hunk had been carrying gizmos and do-hickeys when he stumbled past hours earlier. The last group he had seen was Shiro, Allura, Coran, and surprisingly, Pidge. He had snatched just what they were talking about as they passed. Pidge would be going down to the next planet they were visiting, alone, to test it with scanners for the mission.

The plan was a basic search, raid, and scavenge mission they did every so often. Search for survivors, Galra rebels, and alliances. Raid for resources and information. Scavenge for materials, culture, and history. Lance liked to call it the SRS plan - the first two parts were the complicated parts, and the last one was usually as boring at the real SRS. This planet wasn’t occupied by natives, or they had been wiped out by the Galra base that had been set up. It was mostly a work camp surrounded by oceans. Islands dotted the planet here and there, small, but big enough you could spend years there before you had walked and seen it all.

Every time they planned an SRS, they had one paladin go down, alone, and scan the entire island with their lion, or by hand on ground level. Because it was confirmed for Galra activity and there were no natives to blend in with, they were sending Pidge in with Green - to do a cloaked scan, then to investigate on foot if it was required. This way, if they were separated, needed medicine, or food for themselves or the aliens they had rescued, they wouldn’t pick the planet’s most painful poison.

Lance sighed again. Funny how many people would want me to pick the poison. An amused huff passed his lips as his eyes looked down at his feet.

The nest was made of blankets, fibers, hay, straw, and a metal basin nailed into the beams. Alteans apparently had designated spots for nests, but the others had pushed to put one where they wanted. Which, had been the center pole in the common room closest to the training room, where dozens of beams filled the open ceiling. Lance had insisted with the others on the impromptu spot, even going as far to mention the main support would be the safest place, based on all the rafters he could climb. Yes, Lance climbed slippery metal poles 40 feet up in the air without wings. All the training of climbing high places to catch up that Lance called a childhood, left him without a fear of heights when he was in command. Some of his favorite memories were diving and jumping off those heights, sometimes into the ocean, sometimes to the ground, sometimes to more rock or another branch. The others got a thrill from flying. He got his from falling.

He had broken his arms quite a few times from that.

The unmistakable sound of flapping wings took his attention, causing Lance to look up at Keith, who was gently landing in the nest in front of him. His wings looked cleaner than normal, softer and neater, and his lips weren’t scowling as darkly as usual. “You missed the group preening session again.” Ah. That explained it.

Lance didn’t say anything, paying more attention to the piece of straw in his hand instead of Keith’s calm face, the little smile on his lips, the concerned glint in his eye. Keith’s skin always looked so clear after grooming, Lance grumbled internally, like he had just stepped out of a hot shower. He fiddled with the straw more, ignoring the sharp pricks the ends gave his fingers. Keith seemed to sigh internally, a little slipping out of his mind and nose, before kneeling down to Lance’s height. “You never come. You know you can if you want to, right?”

Ha. As if he could. (They wouldn’t want him then.)

“Yeah.” He says, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and shifting to push his back into the nest subconciously. He blinks up at Keith, whose hand is hanging over the bend of knee with his weight. It’s turned down, but ready to be outstreched and taken in Lance’s if he grabs it. He notes the way Keith’s slim fingers seem to cup themselves. He wants to grab it.

He doesn’t.

Keith’s gaze is level and steady, an almost uncharacteristic look from impulsive, crazy Keith. It holds patience, and focus, and makes Lance want to give him a sign, let him know he isn’t staring at a blurry board, he’s looking at the notes taped to it. His wings are held up and arch out, raised to fly while he crouches. Lance’s hands itch to reach out and run his fingers through the burgundy feathers.

He doesn’t. Just waits for Keith to pull back and stand up.

He does, but not without clapping and rubbing his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Okay then. His wings lower a little to catch an imaginary draft. "I’m going to go talk to Shiro about battle formations. You can come to me if you need it.” Lance lets his smile pull back, knowing inside it was a bright, sadistic, white streak against a midnight canvas. He hopes it’s convincing to Keith. “I will.” He says, then Keith is flying away with another small smile, though this one is a little sadder, a little more resolved.

Tony creates the most beautiful flowers. It takes a lot of work, a lot of effort. He crafts each one with love and care. He readies the trees to bloom and pollinate, to wake up from their long slumber. He’s proud when his plants withstand Natasha’s steady heat and glaring rays, her thunderstorms and torrential downpours.

He sees to the newest generations of animals and insects as well. Some don’t make it to adulthood but he tries very hard anyway. His favorites are the squirrels and the bees. He’s proud of his creations, and they go on to live their best lives.

Steve hates that he has to kill all of them. But it is his duty—the earth cannot sustain endless life, endless birth. The flowers wither and the trees droop to sleep. The bees go into hibernation, or they die in his first cold snap. The squirrels hurry to ready themselves for winter. Some don’t—don’t make it. But it is his duty. So he carries on, until Bucky comes to blanket the land with snow.

Bucky listens to Steve lament about this for centuries, about how he hates to ruin Tony’s hard work, hates to kill the things he puts so much love and affection into. He listens, stoic, because he understands—he lingers just enough to watch Tony begin to create his spring every year, begin to create life.

And then one year Tony catches him lingering, and he comes to him, eyes wide and bright, earthy brown like the soil his flowers and trees spring from, and he whispers, “Does Steve like my gifts?”

And Bucky—blinks, unable to come up with an answer.

Tony doesn’t wait for one, pressing on, “It took me a long time to figure out flowers that can withstand Natasha’s summer. I hope he likes them. And the squirrels! They’re very industrious. I thought he’d like them because he also works very hard. I know—the bees were a mistake, they can’t handle the cold very well, but—but they’re cute, and they pollinate my flowers. I hope he doesn’t mind the bees.”

Bucky manages to flee without causing Tony too much stress, and when he meets Steve at the tail end of his autumn, he says, “Tony says they’re gifts.”

“Gifts?” Steve repeats dumbly.

“He made them for you. The flowers, and the squirrels, and the bees. He made them for you, Steve.” And Steve lingers as Bucky blankets the land with snow, struck dumb, because how—how did he not know that they were gifts?

“Tony,” Bucky says, lingering at the beginning of Tony’s spring. “He told me to tell you he loves them.” Tony beams at him. “He wants you to linger with Natasha. He can’t—leave a gift for you, but maybe you’ll see him make it.”

Tony lingers even though Natasha complains, so he makes lilies for her still waters, her oases from the heat. She complains less. He fights the pull to go to sleep. It doesn’t work, and he falls into slumber on the longest day of summer.

Natasha laments that she did not concede to let Steve have an early autumn. “Next year,” she promises, which is all the apology Steve gets, but he understands.

“He’s not angry,” Bucky tells Tony when he finds him fretting and trying to make extra life. “He’s only sorry he missed you. He’s had more time to practice. You’ll like his gift.”

Tony lingers as long as he can, eyelids drooping, but this time at least Natasha helps him stay awake with cooler days and a honeysuckle breeze. She pinches him when he starts to doze, lets him powernap but ultimately wakes him up again.

It’s from one of these naps that he wakes up to a field of fire, of reds and oranges and yellows and pinks. He gapes, because he didn’t—he didn’t make these flowers. They’re lovely. They’re beautiful. He looks up as Steve approaches, choked up.

“I had to thank you for your gifts somehow,” Steve whispers, presses a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Steve,” Tony says, throat blocked with tears.

“Go to sleep, darling,” Steve soothes, and lays Tony down on the bed of chrysanthemums, and presses kisses to his drooping eyelids and his cheeks and finally on his lips. “Goodnight, my sweet.”

“Steve,” Tony mumbles against his lips, and then sighs, and it tastes like honey and lavender.

“Tony,” Steve whispers back against his lips.

When Tony wakes up at the beginning of spring, his lips still taste like cinnamon and pine.

i’m talking about you - harrison osterfield

Pairing: Harrison x reader

Requested by: Anon

Request: Hey I was wondering if you could do a Harrison x reader kinda thing where they meet for the first time or something and there’s lots of fluff ??¿??

*Note: I will NOT be posting tomorrow (September 1st)! It’s BOYCOTT TUMBLR DAY. Regular posting will be on Saturday (September 2nd), and since I’ll have time to write tomorrow, I’ll be posting quite a few things on Saturday :-) 

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anonymous asked:

in my language "likewise" was translated like "me too" so it's understands like Lena loves Kara as well (i was dead OMFG!!!) but people are talking about the meaning like Lena knows that Kara love her or she saying Kara love Mon as well, so now i am confused what's "likewise" really means?

Ah yes! The debate of the week, yeah?

There are multiple synonymous words and phrases for likewise. Some include me too, same here, also, as well – just to name a few. So I think in the case of this specific dialogue, due to these similar phrases, it is able to be interpreted in multiple ways which is where the speculation lies. Breaking it down using the phrases I mentioned (option A)( option B):

Mon-El: I understand why Kara loves you.
Lena: Me too
(Same here; I do also; I do as well).

So with any of the above statements, it is understandable for people to interpret it as either I love her too (option A) or I also understand why she loves me (option B). The latter, as I theorized a few days back could have been a little joke from Lena whom at that point was feeling pretty confident because of what she was doing on the ship. So in a manner “Yeah, I get why she loves me too. I just unlocked a door with a tiara… I’m a genius. And Kara loves me. And I know this. Because I’m a genius.” (I’ll stop).

Concurrently, when some use the word likewise when accepting and returning a compliment, they quite often mean it in a way of ‘same to you.’ In that case, ‘me too’ or ‘same here’ don’t work. For example:

Person A: Hey, you’re pretty good at this.
Person B: Likewise (in other words, back at ya!).

So in the case of Mon-El and Lena (option C):

Mon-El: I understand why Kara loves you.
Lena: Same to you.

Now many are agreeing that it seemed odd for Lena to be complimentary at this point due to her behavior the whole time on the ship. She was sassy/sarcastic, standoffish, annoyed, etc. In other words 50,000% done.

For example, when interacting exclusively with Mon-El, when she shot the guard, he awkwardly/comically thanked her, but what can be easily missed is that she rolled her eyes as she turned to walk away and waited for him to catch up.

When she instructed him to break the panel and he responded in confusion and uncertainty:

Her face, tone and actions wouldn’t necessarily point to her complimenting him mere moments later so that is where the doubt comes in.

So at this point, I think for most, it is between either option A or option B, in the way it is possibly being read. Though I think a great deal of us are hoping this was a confirmation of Lena saying she also loves Kara. It also helps that Katie did express in her interview from yesterday, that Lena does, indeed love her. So I think that has even more leaning in that direction. I’m convinced.

BTS Reaction To Seeing You After A Long Time

Request: ‘ Hey there, I noticed there haven’t been any reactions from this blog in a while, so can I request a reaction please? BTS members seeing you after a long time, they’ve been away on tour for a long time or something? Thank you!’

Thanks for requesting! Here we go!

Rap Monster

He wants to tell you everything. Everything he’s seen, everything he’s read, everything he’s done, everything the boys have done. He’s missed sharing his experience with you. You are the best listener of his words; he’s missed being able to see in person, your smile when he tells you something funny, your look of concentration when he tells you some history he’s learned about one of the places he’s been. So of course, he does exactly that, talking the night away with you, not giving a damn about how tired this tour has made him, You’re all that matters right now.

“Baby, get some blanket on the couch down here because I am going to tell you everything!”

Originally posted by chimcheroo


Throughout his travels on tour, Jin had been sending you gifts, making sure you knew he had been thinking about you, but it wasn’t enough for him. No amount of flowers or chocolates or jewelry that he sent you would truly speak for how much he’s missed you.

Walking through that airport and catching sight of you waiting for his return, he does his best not to go hysterical being able to hold you in his arms again, but the hug is tight and does last a good while. He’s been able to see you over video calls, and hear your voice in other calls, but the one thing he’s truly missed is this, and it’s moments like this that he is reminded of the best thing in his life.

“I hope you liked the flowers I sent you, but now your biggest flower is here, back home.”

Originally posted by ahluhsunn


Suga didn’t call you as often as he wanted to whilst on tour, worried that he would just be more upset about leaving you behind with each phone call that ends.

Coming home to you, he can’t take the smile off his face, and he doesn’t even bother to begin unpacking. Your tired boy throws himself down onto the bed, waiting for you to join him.

“See this spot here? This is where you should have been every night”

Originally posted by kpoop


Your warmth and touch was something that J-Hope had missed the most, trying to compensate on most nights by sharing a bed with V or Jimin, but they just didn’t compare. They don’t have your voice, your touch, your scent…

The first time J-Hope sees you in person upon returning from tour, he’s straight in there with the cuddles, taking in all that he’s missed.

“You’re definitely my favourite person to cuddle, jagi…”

Originally posted by sugaswagdaddy


So many messages and snaps have gone between you and Jimin over this tour because although he hasn’t been able to be there, he’s done his goddamn best to make the most of the technology that is there.

But when he returns, he lives up to his reputation as a cute lil’ koala, unable to stop clinging on to you as you share a bed together for the first time in what feels like a life time. He’s going to do as much cuddling as he can before he has to leave you again.

“Please don’t fall asleep just yet… I wanna hear your voice some more.”

Originally posted by nnochu


In the airport, V doesn’t care who’s looking. He’s going to run up to just, whisk you off your feet, spin you around in the air, the works!

In his time away, he handled your absence better than he thought he might, allowing himself to take each day for what it is and enjoy everything each place had to offer, creating new memories with his fellow band members.

Taking this approach only makes him appreciate you more because he hasn’t over-thought about how much he misses you to the point that it’s drained him. He’s a whole new person from his travelling experiences and he’s more than ready to catch up with you.

“I love my job, but I love you more”

Originally posted by queen-jizz


The moment he sees you as he comes through that airport, he blushes like mad, as if it’s the first time he’s seen you all over again. Whenever Jungkook is away, any confidence he’s built up around you just disappears and he has to build it up all over again, forgetting that it’s okay to kiss you whenever he pleases

“Can I get a welcome back kiss?”

Originally posted by vhope

~Hamilton Fanfic Prompts~

Okay, so I’m going to take requests for the hamilsquad(and TJEFF’s group) and the hamilcast. I’m going to put a list of prompts/ideas. If you want a certain prompt/idea for a certain person comment the number with the person’s name. Also, there will most likely be cussing. Just saying.

I will mark the ones that have been done, but feel free to request them again!

1. “You have got to be shitting me.”
2. “Why did you have to be a smart person?!”
3. “Why in the hell are you drinking at this hour?!”
4. “Awesome……Wow……..”
5. “Take a break dammit!”
6. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
7. “Why are you being so nice to someone like me?”
8. “Dueling is stupid.”
9. “Does Jefferson know?”
10. “Damn, I’d tap that!”
11. “Why is school so boring?”
12. “Je t'aime….”
13. “How did you manage to be this stupid?”
14. “Your hair is so soft!”
15. “Is that even a sport?”
16. “What are you writing about?”
17. “Why do you always stay up so late?”
18. “That’s a stupid rule.”
19. “How are you so pretty?”
20. “What the in the hell are you wearing?!”
21. “How long are we going to be here?”
22. “This is why I love you.”
23. “Stop running so fast!”
24. “Can we keep it?”
25. “Why is that ‘thing’ in my room?”
26. “You are so adorable!”
27. “I’m dying of blood loss…”
28. “We can’t tell my brother!”
29. “It’s not on the lines!”
30. Why do you always have to gang up on me?“
31. "How is your hair better than mine?”
32. “You wanna go!?”
33. “What are you even saying?”
34. “Do that again.”
35. “Hold me back!”
36. “How are you so tall?”
37. “Sharpen my pencil!”
38. “Why are you so serious all the time?”
39. “Nothing’s more contagious than laughter!”
40. “Fuck, these are my only clothes!”
41. “Are those my clothes?”
42. “Don’t touch that!”
43. “Not in that drawer!”
44. “We ate that yesterday!”
45. “My life is ruined…”
46. “Kill me now.”
47. “Don’t just stand there!”
48. “Help me up asshole!”
49. “Just kiss me already!”
50. “I didn’t want you to say goodbye.”
51. “I’ll show you…”
52. “Can you even talk? You’re always so quiet.”
53. “Who are you?”
54. “I’ll show you where my shoe fits!”
55. “Don’t tell me to shut up!”
56. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
57. “I can’t see anything…”
58. “What do you mean you’re from the 19th century?”
59. “I can’t believe I did that…”
60. “Could you kindly get the fuck away from me for a moment?”
61. “What in the hell did you write that for?”
62. “Can you not touch me there please?”
63. “Women have rights too!”
64. “I’m a dead girl walking!”
65. “This is seriously the best play I’ve ever seen!”
66. “Don’t you know how to clean?”
67. “What’s an anime?”
68. “There is so much to teach you.”
69. “Why so flirty all of a sudden?”
70. “Why that song and why right now?”
71. “What kind of snack is that?
72. "Put a shirt on!”
73. “I would bear your children if only you’d let me!”
74. “Are you gonna help me with this or what?”
75. “Pick up all this garbage!”
76. “Is that the best you can do?”
77. “Why are you not wearing any pants!?”
78. “Can you please shut the hell up?!”
79. “We always eat that!”
80. “Happy birthday! Wait it was last week? Happy late birthday!”
81. “Now is the time to stand!”
82. “Why are we debating about this when I’m obviously right?”

83. “There’s basically nothing in the fridge…”
84. “You’re nothing without ____ behind you…”
85. “I’m cracking under all this stress!”
86. “_____, my first friend. My Enemy.”
87. “What is that red stuff on your hands?”
88. “The emperor has no clothes…”
89. “I want to give you a word of warning.”
90. “I don’t know what you heard, but whatever it is ___ started it!”

91. “You can finally speak your mind!”
92. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-OKAY that’s it!”
93. “Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree.”
94. “One last time…”
95. “I may have committed many errors…”
96. “The ever-favorite object of my heart.”
97. “I’m going home!”
98. “Say goodbye…”
99. “What the hell does P.F.U.D.O.R. stand for?”
100. “He’s just a friend!”
101. “I wasn’t aware that was something a person could do…”
102. “I know him!”
103. “They all look small…”
104. “President ____. Yeah right, like that will happen!”
105. “What is this?!”
106. “You don’t even know what you’re asking me to confess!”
107. “Unless……”
108. “Um…..Yes?”
109. “At least my papers are orderly!”
110. “Rumors only grow…”
111. “Why is it so quiet?”
112. “I wrote ____ love letters until they fell.”
113. “I can’t seem to die.”
114. “Wait for it!”
115. “That’s one less thing to worry about!”
116. “I’m not here for you!”
117. “God, I hope you’re satisfied!”
118. “Have you read this?”
119. “Be careful with that one love…”
120. “You brought this girl into our bed!”
121. “You’ll catch flies.”
122. “Leave me alone!”
123. “Go away!”
124. “Excuse me!”
125. “Service the customers!”
126. “I’m about to pee on myself! Stop!”
127. “What in the heck kinda app is that?!”
128. “Is that velvet?”
129. “Does your hair smell good?”
130. “Just blowing off some steam.”
131. “I touched the butt…”
132. “What the hell is a weenis?!”
133. “I’m ready, let’s go!”
134. “There’s too much snow!”
135. “Let’s build a lego house!”

You can also give me your own prompt as long as it’s only a one sentence prompt. Please request I’m really bad at coming up with ideas!

anonymous asked:

Skater boy Nico and ballerina Will?

  • will always knew he wanted to be a doctor and so basically everything he did from age 10 and on was to help him get into a good medical school. one of those things was taking ballet classes - not only could he earn scholarships if he was good enough, but some schools like harvard were always looking for male ballerinas
    • also, turns out, will’s really good at ballet???? hes got such good rhythm and hes so flexible??? sure he gets picked on at school for being girly but hes not girly hes smart
    • (((ballet also helped him realize that hes totally bisexual ok)))
  • nico has never once considered what his future might hold and doesn’t care to think about it like at all bc he kinda doesnt think he has much of a future. so instead of working hard to get into a good college or even trying to pass his high school classes he pulls stupid stunts and hangs around the skatepark with his few friends
    • nobody dares pick on him ok and he doesnt pick on anyone bc whats the point?? of any of this???? its all stupid and he just wants to be left alone
  • nico skips class one day while the school’s one dance class is rehearsing in the auditorium (and everyone knows that that’s the easiest place to sneak into when youre skipping) and he can only see one boy in the class but hes tall and muscular and gorgeous and totally solidifies the fact that nico is gay, like he’d suspected before but seeing this,,,,
  • so afterwards nico’s actually heading to one of his classes and he sees a couple of jerks picking on that pretty boy from the dance class and pretty boy is completely ignoring them but nico walks up anyway and shoves the couple of jerks out of the way and goes “leave him alone at least hes doing something with his life unlike you”
    • and before will even has a chance to say anything to nico hes already gone so will asks around to see if anyone even,,,, knows??? who that kid is???
  • will shows up at the skate park after school bc that’s the best lead hes gotten on where to find that kid and when he gets there he can see the kid screwing around, totally looking like hes about to fall all the way down that ten-foot halfpipe but will catches him just before he falls
    • nico thanks him and will’s like “call it a repayment for helping me earlier” and nicos kinda like yeah sure whatever is that all you wanted? and wills like “well actually no i was kinda hoping you would also go on a date with me??”
    • nico’s like “you wanna get picked on more?? u realize im basically a dropout waiting to happen and youre top 10 in our class???” will shrugs and says that doesnt matter to him but what does matter is nicos opinion on pizza bc that’s probably where will might take him on their date 
  • they do end up dating and nico ends up sneaking into every single rehearsal and recital that will has and will buys nico a new skateboard for his birthday with a matching helmet that he knows nico is never going to wear but its the thought that counts 
    • ((instead will wears it when nico tries teaching him how to skate. for all will’s balance, he can’t manage to stay on the board for more than a minute))

thanks for the suggestion i hope this is what you were looking for!!!!

drop an au in my ask and get a list of headcanons


So I wrote this fanfiction about a week ago, but I wanted to wait to read the new chapter to add the final details. However, yesterday I was too shocked to write anything, and I finished this today. Hope you like it. This is basically Touken’s journey from Kaneki’s POV. You can also read it here.

Summary: Touka is not the first girl Kaneki likes, but she’s the first girl he loves.


Touka is not the first girl that Kaneki likes. She is definitely not the first one to catch his interest. There were others before her. He does think she’s cute when Hide points to her at the coffee shop, so long ago it seems like centuries have passed. But, although she is attractive, he has his eyes set on another girl, who unknowingly sets his life spiraling towards the path of tragedy.

Kamishiro Rize is both beautiful and smart. And she likes the same books as Kaneki does. Not to mention, she accepts going on a date with him. Kaneki is not hopeless anymore. And he thinks this could be the start of something new, until she corners him on an empty alley and tries to eat him.

His life changes forever.

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Just once Part 3 // SHAWN MENDES

So this is dedicated to that one anon that kept requesting a happy part 3 all in capitals to Just Once :)

“God I’m so not okay,” I whisper to myself as I turn away, finally letting the first tear fall. That was the second biggest mistake I’ve made in my life, letting him walk away from me. The first was not fighting for him.

The constant knocking on the front door took my aĝttention away from the TV. Standing up I walk down the hall to where the knocking still continues. 

“Coming,” I shout. Sammy was out doing the grocery shopping so I presumed it was just her returning and she forgot to bring her key up with her. When I swing the door open however, instead of seeing the sight of my blonde best friend, I’m met with the sight of my brunette ex. 

“Shawn,” I whisper, moving to quickly shut the door, slamming it shut, pressing my back against it. I didn’t want to hear his I hope you’re happy because I am speech. 

“Y/n, please, open the door. I just want to talk,” He asks, his voice raspy. 

“I don’t think Jess would be happy with you visiting you ex girlfriend,” I say, the worlds tasting bitter on my tongue. 

“Dammit Y/n, Fuck Jessica. The guys set me up with her because all I had been doing since you broke up with me was hibernating on the stupid couch. Now please, will you let me in?”

I pause before opening the door meeting Shawn’s weary eyes. His arm rests on the door frame, the same olive shirt as last night clinging to his upper body. We stare at each for a moment, both us not knowing where to start.

I clear my throat before saying “Do you want to come in? Sammy’s out shopping, she won’t be back for a while so..” I trail off, moving to the side to let him in. He walks past, his arm gently brushing mine that leaves a trail of sparks in its wake. 

I turn away to close the door but as soon as its shut I’m shoved against the door, chest pressed against Shawn’s.

“God I missed you,” Shawn murmurs, his nose trailing along my neck, his hair tickling my cheek. Both his hand hold my arms tight against the wood of the door.

“Shawn,” I try to say but it comes out in a whisper. He lets my hands go, instead finding their way to hold my face as his lips press against mine hastily as if there was not enough time. 

Without thinking my hands find his hair, putting in as much effort to this kiss as he was. I missed this, I missed him. It felt as if nothing had happened and it was just Shawn and I as we were before.

“I”m so sorry, baby,” Shawn whispers pulling away. I meet his eyes, filled with sorrow and regret. “So sorry,” He says again, tone soft as if to not scare me away.

“I freaking hate you for making me feel this way,” I say, shoving him of me to just push him against the wall opposite the door, pressing my lips to his again. “I missed you too,” I say pulling away for a second before kissing his jaw. 

“I’m so sorry I forgot your graduation, I swear I though it was the 12th not the 11th,” He says, breaths labored from my lips against his neck.

“I was just pissed that you always seemed to miss the important events in my life,”

“I know… I know,” He says arms resting around waist, hands rubbing my hips through my shirt. “I realized that after you broke up with me that I had been too focused on work. Before you there only was work,” His hand reaches up to brush a piece of hair behind my ear.

“These past 3 weeks were the worst of my life,” His nose brushed against mine. “I didn’t want to go out unless you were with me. I didn’t want to write, shit I didn’t even want to play the guitar. I need you and if you give me one more chance, I swear, every day from here on, I will be devoted to our relationship and making sure that whatever you have planned will come first, any event. Even if it was you going to have a shower, I’ll be there,” he says determinedly, making me giggle. “You first, work second.” He kisses me quickly. 

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” I whisper, my hand brushing his cheek softly. “Breaking up was the worst for me too. Seeing you with Jess, that hurt a lot. Made me realise what a fool I was for not trying to make our relationship work,”

“So what do you say? Want to try and fix us?” Shawn asks looking hopeful.

“Pretty sure its achievable,” I say, a slight smirk on my face.  

“Yes!” Shawn says, making me laugh. “Gosh I love you,” he says kissing me again.

“Wait, wait, can we take this slow? I want to make sure that we don’t make the same mistakes as last time,” I say hesitantly.

“Does that mean no more I love you’s?” He says frowning.

“I..” I trail off. He grins at me, leaning in till his lips are pressed against my ear. 

“I love you,” he whispers, breath tickling my neck.

“I love you’s work,” I say quickly, breath catching in my throat. Shawn laughs. 

“Want to go watch some TV?” Shawn asks grabbing my hand and pulling me to the lounge room. “We can hibernate on the couch together,”

here they are!!!

after a way-too-long wait here are the fantasy au references for russel and noodle! these two are a lot harder to draw for me, especially russ, since I’m not used to drawing them as much as 2d and mudz but i hope you all like them anyway, i did my best :”)

noodle is a homeless feral elf girl who russ catches trying to steal weapons, russ is a blacksmith who creates magical items, swords, staffs, the like. (he does woodworking too, but less frequently.)

thanks to my friend bustednnblue on instagram for designing noodle and giving me the idea for russ’s floral bandanas!! he’s working on a fic so that might come out as well.

anyway i hope you all enjoy. would you like to see more of the au? do you want more doodles or backstory? shoot me a message or tag me in a post! fan works and art are always appreciated, and feel free to send me any headcanons you have!! <3

Only time will tell

This is the longest fic I’ve written so far! It’s over 8 thousand words long. 

Agatha goes to the future and finds something rather unexpected…


I don’t know what to do.

It should be the easiest decision in the world. It shouldn’t be possible not to be able to choose between the Mage’s Heir and the vampire. Good and evil, black and white, hot and cold. It shouldn’t be possible for the same girl to be drawn to both of them.

I love Simon, I really do. He’s one of the few friends I have here – one of two, to be exact – and I care about him, so much. I want to see him safe and happy, I want to see him with a home to go to and a family to love. I just can’t imagine myself in that family. Maybe I don’t love him the way everyone thinks I should.

And then, there’s Baz. The opposite of Simon in every way. Cold, hard, all sharp edges where Simon is soft. He walks around with a permanent sneer, his gaze steely, his posture impeccable, everything in its perfect place, while there is no pattern or structure to Simon. And I believe Simon, when he says Baz is a vampire. He has the look for it, the hair, the jawline, the pale skin. Most of all, he has that air of danger.

Simon is supposed to keep us all safe, and there couldn’t be a more well-meaning person for the job. Simon would never hurt me. Baz, on the other hand, is unpredictable. Breaking my heart would be the least of his crimes. If there’s even enough of that left in me to be broken. I don’t even know if I mean anything to him at all.

I should choose Simon. Everyone wants me to choose Simon. Simon would want to make me happy. But the past few years have made me wonder if he can. I’m supposed to choose him. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Baz, because I’m not supposed to choose him, because he’s so different to Simon.

So I don’t know what to do, but I know that I can’t go on like this, staying with Simon because it’s the easy option, the path of least resistance. I want to make a real choice. I want to be sure, and there’s only one way to know how it will turn out.

I’m probably not even powerful enough to cast the spell. I don’t know if I have enough magic in me. I’d be happy to use it all up on this spell and end up Normal. Then I’d leave Watford and go back to my real friends, to the life that actually feels like mine, and I wouldn’t have to make this choice at all. I close my eyes, pick up my wand, and reach for my magic.

Only time will tell.

Keep reading


Sorry if it is short but I didn’t really know how to make it longer, you know what I mean? I feel like it is enough! Hope you like it xx

Y/N looked up, on her tip toes trying to catch a glimpse of her favorite boy but the other girls in the crowd were tall and it was hard to look through the different heads. The was almost empty now, with only a few girls behind her and in front. And as she was getting nervous, her heartbeat increasing, the girls waiting behind her quickly noticed and recognized her. “What are you doing here? Oh my god, does he know?” A blonde girl asked, earning the others to lean in and listen. “Shhh.” Was all she said before sending them a wink.

Time was ticking and the more she was getting closer, the more she was nervous. Surprises were exciting. There was now only one person on front of her and she could finally see him, a smile instantly growing on her face. She then turned to the blonde girl from earlier. “Mind filming this?” Y/N asked, handing her camera to her and the girl gladly took it, getting to record when she had to.

Joe was looking to the opposite direction when she stepped closer, he was talking to his manager and didn’t pay attention to the next “fan” that was arriving. “Would you mind signing this for your biggest fan?” She teased, pushing the book that she had already read too many times in front of his face and Joe instantly froze at the voice. And when he looked up, the biggest smile was on his face. Within seconds, Joe was up and moving around the table to wrap his arms around her, lifting her off the ground. “Joe!” She laughed, slapping the back of his head for him to put her down which he did but still grabbed on her waist as if she was about to fly right away. He pulled away just enough to crash their lips together, kissing her as if it was the last time. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” He mumbled pecking her lips a few times, before pulling away to look at her properly. “Weren’t you supposed to have some important meetings?” He asked, confusion now itched across his face but his smile not leaving his face. “I managed to reschedule them so I could join for the rest of the week.” She explained, looking over to the girl who had the camera in hand, nodding at her to come over to them which she did and gave back the camera to Y/N. “Thanks for being my secret cameraman.” Y/N said and the girl laughed. Joe dropped a kiss on Y/N’s forehead. “Can I take a picture with you two?” The lovely girl asked and the couple exchanged a smile. “Of course.” Joe said, grabbing his sharpie to sign her book before posing for a picture.

Joe had really wanted his girlfriend to join him on the tour but with her being busy with her own YouTube stuff, it was almost impossible. And for the first week, Y/N had been overbooked with all of her meetings and projects that she was working on. But luckily, she had managed to schedule all of her things again to be able to go with him on his book tour. She knew how much it meant for him to have her there, since they were both busy they barely had time for each other and could barely get a goodnight kiss before the other had to leave for whatever they had to do.  

Being a YouTube couple was hard for them but at least, their time spent together was precious and they wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.

The Little Things

5 times Derek notices things about Stiles he has never noticed before.

1. The tiny specs of colour in their eyes.  

For a moment, Derek was floating. He was weightless, mind adrift. And then suddenly, it was like he was dropped into a pool of cold water and he was being thrown into consciousness.

His eyes snapped open, breath leaving his lungs. He barely caught the fist swinging towards his face, the small, cold knuckles swarmed in his own collaused palm with a painful slap of skin against skin. He looked above him, eyes leaving the two hands, and found Stiles staring down at him. It was just as much of a shock waking up as it was seeing cold, stomach dropping fear glistening in Stiles’ eyes. His face was illuminated green, shadowed from the prominent cheekbones and ridiculously long eyelashes. The lights around them were flickering on and off, making Derek’s sense of his surroundings even more off.

He looked around, dazed and confused because what the actual fuck? He couldn’t figure out what was going on. What happened and why was Stiles staring at him like he’s dropped from the fucking sky?

Suddenly, it all came rushing back like a tidal wave.

“Where is she?” He shakily asked after he glanced out of the elevator he was laying in, looking at the dimmed and abandoned hospital ward.

“Jennifer?” Stiles croaked above him, voice raspy like he’d been crying. His eyes didn’t look red, but Derek did find himself unable to take his eyes off them - doe and big. “Gone— with Scott’s mum.”

Derek felt his stomach twist uneasily, guilt swarming his gut. “She took her?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “And if that’s not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion. Okay? So, we gotta get you out of here—” he could hear the teenagers breathing picking up, noting the anxious way he was sparing nervous glances down the end of the hall. His wrist was still in Derek’s hand, shaking. “The police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the hell out-ta here—”

“Woah,” Derek cut him off, sitting up and ignoring the scream from his muscles.  He felt so impossibly drained. “What about Cora?”

“She’s fine,” Stiles replied, quick and high. “She’s with Peter and Isaac. Look, we gotta go, okay? Can you stand? Did she break anything or—”

“I’m fine,” Derek answered shortly. He wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t broken or physically injured. Maybe mind-fucked and internally scarred by the fact that he was sleeping with a goddamn Darach who while she wasn’t in his bed, was actually out killing people for sacrifices. He was more worried about Cora at the moment, but Jennifer was large play in his mind - especially now she has Stiles’ dad and Scott’s mum.

“Okay, good,” Stiles nodded and he didn’t waste another moment before he was grabbing Derek by the shoulders and pulling - non helpfully - Derek to his feet. He stumbled when he was vertical, blood rushing to his head like he’d been hanging upside down instead of laying on the floor. “Woah—” Stiles rushed to his close side, hands everywhere and eyes tracking him. “You okay, big guy?”

Not by a long shot, Derek wanted to say. “I’m fine,” he gruffed instead. It was obvious Stiles didn’t believe him, his brown eyes unconvinced and shining evident disbelief, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded, breathing shakily. They were at eye level, eyes directly looking into one another and if it was under different circumstances, Derek would have taken the time to admire the fire behind the teens eyes, or the way lighter shades of brown sparkled along side the dark, glowing whiskey. But right now, the circumstances were shit, and they needed to get out.

“Let’s go,” Derek said, and neither of them wasted another moment before they turned and ran.


2. How someone looks when they think nobody can see them.

Everything was better now. Cora was cured and currently out of town. She’d left only two days after she was well enough to stand, calming telling Derek she couldn’t stay because everything here reminded her of pain and misery. Derek couldn’t disagree with her, or make her stay. But he also declined her offer to go with him, knowing he needed to stay with his pack and some Hale member had to stay here. But things were better. The sheriff, Melissa and Chris were rescued and safe. Scott, Allison and Stiles got their parents back. The sacrifices worked, or, at least that’s what Derek was told.

He didn’t believe they worked, didnt believe everything was alright. The sacrifices gave them the location of their parents, but it’s physically and mentally scarred them for life. The darkness around their hearts, as Deaton explained, was perminant. It was a scar, ugly and unremovable. Derek had no idea what it felt like, but he imagined it was like a hole in your chest, a big black void of nothing, just gaping like a bloodless bullet wound. He assumed it felt like grief, consuming and a consistent ache or feeling.

Derek couldn’t imagine what it actually felt like, pooling in his chest continuously.

The pack meeting came to a stuttering end about half an hour before the members began to leave. Lydia and Allison went first, claiming they needed shopping as Lydia was sure it was the only way to properly cheer Allison up. Derek could see the frustration in Allison’s form, the aftermath of the sacrifice turning her paranoid, saying she can keep seeing the ghost of her dead aunt.

“Hey, Scott,” Stiles said, catching the doe-eyed true alpha. They were standing in the middle of the loft, Scott having just began to make his way to the loft door. He turned around on Stiles’ call and waited for him to continue. “Are you still free today? I was wondering if we could hang out, I need to tell you—”

“Sorry, buddy,” Scott cut him off, and the drop in Stiles’ hopeful expression told Derek the younger teen knew he was being ditched. “I was gonna hang out with Kira, do some history notes together,” Scott looked at Kira over his shoulder, the small girl sending him a sweet wave when she noticed him looking. Scott, like a lovesick middle-schooler, waved back with doe eyes. He turned back to Stiles, talking in a low voice so no one could hear, stupidly forgetting he’s surrounded by werewolves with enhanced hearing, “she’s finally noticing me, Stiles. I know you wanted to hang out, and we will — I promise! But, I really like her, like, like her. I haven’t felt like this about anyone since…” He trailed off and the small ‘Allison’ didn’t go unheard.

Stiles shook his head, lips pulling up into a smile that was so painfully forced. “It’s fine. Totally cool. You go, write notes and woo her with your puppy eyes. I can talk to you another time.”

Scott grinned. “Thank you!” He clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “You’re the best, Stiles. I promise we’ll hang out tomorrow, okay?”

Stiles nodded, muttering, “Okay. Sure.”

But Scott was already turning away, going to Kira and it took all of Derek’s willpower not to grab Scott by the collar and drag him to Stiles’ feet and force him to apologise to his best friend that so obviously needs him.

The second Scott was out the door, it was like Stiles was physically punched. Derek watched his face morph into a mixture of pain, anxiety and hurt. He wrapped his arms around his middle, cuddling himself as if it would give him some source of comfort. Derek could tell his eyes were trained on the floor, despite standing behind him. The angle of his head was down and bowed, and Derek officially declared Scott the biggest oblivious idiot in the pack. How could he not see? How could he not see the obvious signs of his best friends suffering? Derek has watched Stiles turn up to meeting after meeting since the sacrifices, watching his skin get paler and tighter from exhaustion. The purple half moons under his eyes becoming horrifically prominant, standing out against the white of his complexion. His hair was hazardous, sprawled in every direction like it’s been pulled with stress.

Stiles was suffering, and Derek could see him suffering in silence.

Derek didn’t know if Stiles realised he was there, especially considering it was his loft, but Stiles seemed to be in his own head. He seemed unconscious that Derek was standing behind him, watching and observing the way he’s curling in on himself like a wounded child. The way waves of misery and hurt are rolling off him and smacking Derek like a physically tsunami. Realisation dawned on him that Stiles wasn’t okay, and that everything wasn’t better now just because no one was in immediate danger.

Derek moved, the floor beneath his feet moaning and Stiles spun around so fast Derek was surprised he managed to stay standing. Stiles’ eyes were wide, swimming with surprise and also a hint of embarrassment, which had Derek almost frowning because, why?

“Are you okay?”

Stiles nodded, and suddenly, it was like a masked was slipped on. His face became neutral, emotionless and all the pain shining through the exhausted whiskey eyes was covered like a shield. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Derek nodded back. He didn’t have another chance to speak to Stiles, for the brunette teenager was grabbing his bag by the strap and darting out of the loft like a streak of light.


3. Real meanings behind spoken words.  

Derek didn’t know how it had come to this. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but through out his entire life, he’s never been so terrified. Even when he watched his family burn, or spent years hiding away in New York, grieving with Laura, or when he came back to this god-forsaken town to find his older sister dead at the hands of his psychopathic uncle. He has never felt as truly scared as he is now.

He was standing in Deaton’s veterinary. It was cold, the chill from outside seeping into the dark room. Scott was leaning against a metal table, hand on his recently healed stomach. There was a large blood patch on his t-shirt, the wet, sodden fabric ruined by the gaping hole in the middle. He looked close to tears, and that wasn’t because he was stabbed and basically had death flash in front of his eyes. No, Derek knows he’s close to tears because of the teenager laying on the table opposite him.

Stiles had been unconscious when Derek ran in from the rain. The teen then, however, had been laying on his side on the cold floor, Deaton standing above him with a needle in his hand like a mad scientist out of a horror movie.

At first, Derek had demanded answers. He wanted to know what the fuck was going on and how the hell Scott, the true alpha, had managed to get stabbed by his hyperactive human best friend. Except once Derek had lifted Stiles onto the table, his body disturbingly lax in his arms, Deaton had then explained that Stiles was not only Stiles, but actually possessed by a thousand year old Japanese spirit.

It had been quite a shock. Sure, Derek had his suspicions, but no one had confirmed it to him and to hear Deaton tell him, when Stiles was drugged to unconsciousness and Scott was recovering from a stab wound to the stomach, it made Derek want to throw up.

After ten minutes of eery silence, Derek asked the only question he was sure he could voice without vomiting. “What do we do?”

His voice broke the quiet like a sledgehammer on a sheet of glass; shattering it. Scott physically flinched when he did, and for the first time in a long time, Derek saw the vulnerability in the True Alpha.

“The wolf lichen should knock him out for a while, and when he comes around he should be in control of himself,” Deaton answered.

Derek looked at him. “And what happens if Stiles isn’t in control when he wakes up?”

“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens. For now, we need to assume the wolf lichen will work and the fox will be effected.”

“Is it going to hurt him?” Scott asked, his eyes still locked on Stiles’ form. When no one answered, he looked up and directly at Deaton. “Is the wolf lichen going to hurt Stiles?”

“No,” Deaton said. “It won’t harm his human side, only the fox inside him.”

“Then why is he still passed out?” Scott shouted, a growl itching into his tone.

Deaton seemed unfazed, as usual. “Because the wolf lichen will act as a sedative until the fox is weak enough for Stiles to take control again. He’ll be fine, Scott.” His last words sounded flimsy but it was the best they had.

“Okay, so assuming Stiles is in control, what should we do? The wolf lichen isn’t permeant, and if the fox is as powerful as you said it was, then it isn’t just going to sit back and let Stiles have his life back again,” Derek said, and once the words left his mouth, he felt like he was going to be sick again.

He looked at Stiles, and instantly he regretted it. The teenager was still passed out, lax and limp on the table. His head was turned to the side, face in their direction. His skin was white, eyes bruised and purple. His lips were cracked, colourless like the rest of his complexion. His hair was stuck to his forehead in wet curls like seaweed washed up on a pale shore. It was scary, to see Stiles so still. In all the years Derek had known him, Stiles was a constant flurry of movement and colour but now, he was like a grey form of stationary misery.

“How can we help him?” Derek asked. “How do we stop whats inside him?”

Deaton shook his head. “I don’t know enough,” he said.

“Well learn something!” Derek snapped. “We need to help him.”

“I know,” Deaton said, and it almost sounded like a sigh.

“We need to get it out,” Scott murmured. “We need to get that thing out of him.”

Deaton nodded. “I’ll see if I know any contacts who might be able to help. I recommend speaking to Chris, he might know more about this than me.”

“I’ll do it,” Derek said, knowing Scott wasn’t up for anything else tonight. “You should go home, Scott. Get some rest-”

Scott’s head snapped up at the mention of his name. “W-What? No! I can't— you don’t… I need to help—”

“Scott, you had a sword pushed through your stomach. You need to rest and heal—”

Scott pushed off the table. “I’ve healed! I—”

Scott,” Derek said, voice rumbling. If he was an alpha still, he knew he would have flashed his red eyes, but he didn’t bother now. “Go home, we’ll phone you if anything changes,” he added, “I promise.”

Scott looked like he was going to protest, but then he must have come to his senses and realised he needed to go home.

“Call Kira when you go,” Deaton said. “Make sure she’s okay.”

Derek doesn’t know who Kira is or what happened to her, and if he was honest with himself then he didn’t want to know. The only thought that connected in his mind was if Stiles had hurt her? If the thing inside his head had hurt someone?

Derek cut out of his thoughts when Scott began to head towards the door, looking over his shoulder ever three seconds, eyes on his best friend as if walking out the door without him is like he’s saying good bye. The door shut behind him with a deafening silence.

“Take me to Eichen,”

Derek spun on his heel as fast as light, ears ringing with the croaking voice.

Stiles was awake, eyes open and shining through the whiskey orbs was such raw fear that Derek could literally taste it on his tongue. He hadn’t even realised Stiles was awake, and now he listened, he could hear the racing beats of his heart.

“What?” Derek asked, brain not fully processing Stiles’ words.

“Take me to Eichen House. I can’t be around you guys—”

“No way in hell are you going there,” Derek said adamantly.


“Stiles, Derek is right. I don’t think—”

“I have to. I heard what you said about the wolf lichen, and I know it isn’t going to hold forever. You can’t just let me roam the streets. I might— it might hurt someone. Please, I need to do this.”

Derek sighed. His chest was aching. “Stiles, Eichen isn’t safe,”

“It doesn’t matter. If I’m in there, so is the damn thing possessing me. Everyone will be safe, and it will give you guys more time to figure something out.”

“We’re going to kill it, Stiles,” Derek said, voice more solid than it had been all night. He was confident that Stiles was going to get out of this alive, and no way in hell was Derek going to let the brave, stupid, idiotic spaz go down this way after everything he’s been through. “You’re going to be okay.”

“You can’t,” Stiles whispered. His voice cracked, croaking when he spoke.

“Stiles, we can and we will,” Derek snarled.

“How?” Stiles asked, and then Derek noticed the glistening in his eyes and the salty tang to the air. “How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?”

The words hit Derek so hard he had to take a physical step back. He didn’t know exactly what Stiles was implying, but the words were cold and sharp.


Was Stiles implying that Derek was a monster? Or that Stiles himself is a monster? The questions flew back and forth like a boomerang, spinning inside his head.

“Stiles,” Derek began, but prominently cut himself off. What the fuck was he meant to say to that?

Please,” Stiles begged, sounding so small and hurt it physically wounded Derek like a punch to the chest.

Derek sighed. He looked to Deaton, who met his eyes with a familiar gaze. Derek looked back to Stiles, who was staring at him with a hopeful and desperate look that could have made the newly made beta crumble, even in alpha form.

“Call your father,” Derek said. “You need his consent first.”


4 . Emotions they are trying to hide.

When Derek next saw Stiles, it was a week after the Nogitsune was diminished and two friends were buried in the ground. The remaining pack were damaged, the entire pack and its balance fractured, possibly beyond repair.

Scott was heart broken, internally destroyed from having his first love die in his arms. Derek could relate, horribly, and he knew that kind of pain didn’t just go away with a few good nights sleep and a lot of hugs. It was scarring, deep and un-healable.

Lydia was just as distraught, though her’s was less visible. She had been the one to plan the meeting at Derek’s loft, insisting they needed to get back to some sort of normalcy. She’d turned up the following day, Kira at her side, saying the pack meeting was happening and everyone was going to be there.

At first, Derek didn’t believe her or the idea that everyone would come. Grieving was hard, and for most people, it was actually easier to do alone. Or at least, that’s what people believed when they were grieving. It was like dark cloud hanging over you, and your constant worry was getting  everyone caught in your own storm. Derek knew what it was like to hide away in grief, he’d done it twice before and he was sure as hell not going to criticise the pack for doing it themselves. The only member of the pack Derek had actively seen was Isaac, and that was only because he’d moved back in with him. He didn’t comment, the first night Isaac turned up at the lofts door with a duffel bag and red eyes, he only opened the door wider and offered his bed, knowing the beta needed it.

Scott and Isaac arrived together, looking hunched and sad. They barely said a hello to everyone before dropping down on the sofa.

Stiles was the last to arrive, and when he did walk through the door, Derek could have cried. Stiles was the definition of mentally broken. His physical appearance was haunting, from his translucent skin and exhausted eyes to his sluggish movements and sharp cheekbones. He walked with hunched shoulders, like he was carrying the weight of the world on the producing bones. Lydia approached him as he crossed the loft and immediately pulled him into a hug. Derek noted the raise in heartbeat and how Stiles stiffened like a plank, muscles stiff. Lydia didn’t remove herself, and eventually, Stiles sagged against her, shaking hands wrapping around her back and forehead dropping to her shoulder. Derek shoved down the swell of jealously and was instead thankful that Stiles was even there.

When Lydia detached herself, she grabbed Stiles by the hand and guided him to the sitting area. Stiles situated himself in the empty love seat, looking small as he curled in on himself against the mountain of pillows.

“What are we doing here?” Scott had asked, voice small and cracking.

“We need to heal, and we should do it together. Allison wouldn’t want us like this, she’d want us to carry on with life. We need to find some normalcy, so we’re going to watch a movie together and eat some food like we used to.”

No one had argued when Lydia put a Disney film on the TV and curled up on the couch beside Scott. After that day, things did improve. The pack began to heal, slowly but surely. The meetings and Friday movie nights became routine again. Everyone was beginning to fall back into place, sealing the cracks that had formed and repairing the damage done. It wasn’t perfect, and it was never going to be. They had lost a large, vital and irreplaceable member of their pack and lives. It was never going to be the same, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy and heal.

Derek doesn’t know what urged him to go over to the Stilinski house hold a few weeks later, but he’s bloody glad he went. He was barely a few feet away from the grass below Stiles’ bedroom window when he heard the familiar sound of a faint sob. The sound, despite being quiet and muffled, sent Derek’s wolf into overdrive and he was leaping up onto the window ledge and climbing inside before he could really think about it.

He was startled to find the bedroom empty. The first thing that hit him was the scent of misery and guilt, so strong and suffocating as it clung to every inch and object in the room. Derek could barely stop himself from whining, unable to understand why Stiles had to suffer through this alone.

The next soft cry snapped him out of his thoughts. He was following the sound before the next cry followed, leading him to the bathroom where he found the door wide open and Stiles sitting under the sink.

The teen hiccups when he looks up, tears streaming down his cheeks like small rivers and eyes puffy and red, swollen with misery.  He’s curled in on himself, knees up his chest and trembling arms wrapped around himself as if he could make himself unseen.

Derek felt his heart literally break.

“Stiles,” he whispered, approaching slowly and cautiously. When he was close enough, he crouched down almost at eye level with the shaking male that was no more than a child. Now he was closer, he could see the sharp lines of his prominent cheekbones, the colourless lips disgusting with the sickly pale skin. Underneath the blood-shot eyes were bruises of obvious exhaustion.

Derek wasn’t expecting Stiles to launch himself into Derek’s chest, but he reacted quickly, taking in the sobbing teen and wrapping his arms protectively around him. Stiles cried into his chest, wailed and trembled. His pain was pouring out, coming so unexpectedly that Derek cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Not addressing the pain he had suspected Stiles was in, should have acted on instinct and the duty of a friend, because it was obvious Stiles needed a shoulder to cry on.

“You’re okay,” Derek murmured, rubbing a hand up and down the shaking knobs of his spine. “You’re gonna be okay, Stiles. You’re not alone, it’s not your fault. Breath with me, calm down. Everyone’s okay, everyone’s fine.”

Stiles choked a sob against his chest, hands wrung in his shirt, gripping tight and desperate. He sounded so fragile, so hurt and broken that Derek could barely blink back the tears in his own eyes. He’d never felt this sad and distraught since the fire, and the time before that when Paige was dying in his arms. But even then, it didn’t hurt like this. This was worse, deeper like a never healing knife wound. This hurt more because it’s been going on for weeks, Stiles has been crumbling and suffering alone because Derek was too weak and pathetic to act on his feelings and help Stiles.

Derek doesn’t know how long he was sitting on the Stilinski bathroom floor, cradling and supporting his pack mate. But when Stiles finally found the breath to sit back, he looked worse than before. His eyelashes were clumped together, jet black with tears. His cheeks were wet and tinted red. Eyes sore and raw. He looked open and vulnerable, ruined and battered like a old toy that has been abandoned after years of careless play.

With a gentle touch, Derek brushed the pad of his thumb under one of Stiles’ eyes, wiping away the falling tear. Stiles was staring back at him, whiskey orbs bright in the florescent bathroom lights.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles whispered, voice cracking and raspy.

Derek flashed him a small smile, hoping it would transfer some sort of comfort to the aching teen. “I came to see if you were okay,” he replied, tone as gentle as the hand rubbing Stiles’ shoulder with small circles. “You’re not okay, are you?”

Stiles continued to stare at him with unblinking eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and Derek would bet his right arm he was going to lie 'I’m fine’. But then his mouth snapped closed, lip trembling and eyes filling with a fresh pool of tears. He shook his head, small and shakily.

Derek didn’t hesitate to pull Stiles back into his chest, arms winding around his back for security. Stiles curled into his chest without protest, small sobs starting again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay not to be okay,” Derek whispered into the soft, messy mop of brown hair. “You’ll heal, it’ll get better and one day you can say you’re fine and won’t have to lie about it. But it’s okay that today is not that day.”

They moved into the bedroom sometime later, laying down on the bed. Derek wasn’t planning on staying, but when Stiles grasped his wrist and looked at him with those big, hopeful and scared eyes, he didn’t hesitate to kick off his shoes and climb under the covers next to him.

Stiles was the same as he had been at the pack meetings. He hadn’t changed, good nor bad. He was still keep his distance from the pack. Still looking pale and sick, tired and wary, jumping at every sudden and small sound. It pained Derek to see him so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Stiles was falling asleep next to him, breaths deep and soft, but Derek could see him resisting. In the dim light of the room, Stiles kept desperatly blinking his eyes open in the will to stay awake. Derek couldn’t stand it any longer, looking at the exhausted face and sunken eyes in so much need for rest. He grabbed Stiles’ hand, the skin cold against his own and small. Stiles’ eyes met his, and Derek squeezed his hand gently.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered into the silence. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The short reassurance seemed to calm Stiles somewhat. His tense body lost some of the stiffness and he relaxed slightly against the mattress, but not by much. He was still too wired to fall asleep, so Derek took charge.

He moved closer, pulling Stiles into him gently. He kept their one hands connected, pressed between their chests and he wound the other one around Stiles’ neck to hold his head, running his fingers gently through the soft strands of hair at the back of his head. The small, comforting gestures caused Stiles to drop like a hot rock into the abyss of sleep.

Derek followed soon after, rocking and comforted by the steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing.


5. The melody of someone’s voice.

“What was it?”

“There’s a lot of myths,” Derek began, looking up from the locker room floor to Stiles, who was standing a few feet away. “About how people can be turned into a werewolf. Usually, it’s a bite, and there’s one about rain water.”

“Rain water out of the puddle of a werewolf’s print,” Stiles said, nodding.

“There’s another one,” Derek continued. “A way that someone can be turned by a scratch, if the claws go deep enough. I dreamed…I dreamed about Kate. She wasn’t dead, she was alive, she was a were but I don’t know which one. She didn’t die when Peter killed her, she turned, and she was in my loft.”

“Derek,” Stiles sat down on the bench opposite him, looking at him with concern, “if this is all just a dream, then why do you look so worried?”

Derek shook his head in small movements. “Because I don’t remember waking up. So…so tell me, how do you know? How do you know if you’re still dreaming?”

“Fingers. In dreams you have extra fingers,” Stiles replied. Derek didn’t hesitate a moment before he snatched Stiles by the wrist and brought his hand up.

6 fingers.

Suddenly, the world folded like an envelope. Stiles was gone, as was the locker room. He was standing in his loft, smoke and darkness around him. His chest burned, fire and pain burning through him. He dropped to his knees, hands hovering over the sudden gun shot wound at the bottom of his chest.

He looked down at the blood stain. “It’s real,” he whispered to himself.

Looking up, he saw a figure approach and appear in the white fog around him.

“You’re real,”

“That’s right, Derek,” Kate replied as she stalked forward, hips swaying and gun loose at her side in her fingers. “And if seeing me is a surprise, watch this,”

Suddenly, like a werewolf would, her face began to morph and shift. Only, she wasn’t shifting into a wolf. Her eyes glowed green, teeth canines growing and skin turning blue with black smudges. She let out a roar, deep and loud.


The voice that spoke didn’t belong. It wasn’t here, it was distance, like an echo. Derek barely heard it over the deafening roar.

“Derek, wake up,”

He couldn’t pin point who it was or where they were. Black spots were dancing in his vision. His head felt cloudy, ears muffled. Kate was watching him, Kate was alive and he couldn’t breath.

“Derek! Wake up!” The voice was more urgent, pleading.

His lungs stopped working. He was suffocating. He couldn't—

“Wake up!”

Derek snapped into consciousness with a breathless gasp. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, and then he was jackknifing into a sitting position. His skin was crawling, tingling and too tight. His hand went to his chest where the gaping hole was no longer there, where his t-shirt was no longer sticky with blood. His lungs were clenched, muscles tort and refusing to expand. His breath was short, neck cold with sweat.


The small, unsure voice sent him into a spiral of confusion. His head snapped in the direction to see Stiles sitting up next to him, eyes wide and skin white pale in the moon light that glowed in from his bedroom window.

Derek tried to calm his breathing, to find some kind of steady pattern or rhythm, but he couldn’t.

A hand grabbed his own, another one coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Derek,” the voice was steadier this time, more stern and commanding. Stiles’ eyes met his, the whiskey colour gleaming with a determination that had been missing for so long. “Breath with me. Hold you’re breath.”

It wasn’t helping. This had never happened, in all of Derek’s traumatic years, he’d never had a panic attack and he hated this. He couldn’t breath and the lack of oxygen filling his lungs only made him panic more. It was a vicious circle, no way out, trapped and—

A pair of lips covered his. He was so startled and surprised he didn’t even register the intake of breath he stopped. He sighed into the kiss, melting against the lips against his. Something warm and pleasant fluttered in his chest, replacing the recent panic and tight feeling. It was over as soon as it started and Stiles was pulling away.

Silence settled. Derek was speechless, awed and embarrassed. He’d panicked like that in front of Stiles, something that made him open and vulnerable - something he’d tried so hard to mask. His eyes were conflicted between looking at Stiles’ lips or his eyes, both open and unreadable. Stiles was staring right back at him, his own breathing deep as if the kiss had surprised him as much as it had Derek.

The wolf couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed Stiles by the cheek and collided their lips together again. This one was better, longer, deeper. It was passionate, sweet and sour, like burnt sugar. It was captivating, sending tingles down Derek’s spine. Stiles’ lips moved with his, as if they had done this a million times. What surprised him most was Stiles was kissing back with as much if not more enthusiasm.

The next time they pulled away was because they were breathless. Derek took in Stiles’ appearance with one look. He was still pale and he looked just as tired as he was hours ago before they fell asleep, but now his cheeks were tinted with a healthy red glow, eyes dilated and lips swollen and pink.

“You like me?” Stiles whispered, breaking the silence that was only filled by their heavy breathing.

Derek smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Stiles smiled back, a small action that had been absent for too long and made Stiles look hypnotising-ly beautiful. “I like you too. I like you a lot.”

“Good,” Derek replied, pulling him in for another hungry and desperate kiss. “You’re it for me, Stiles.” He whispered against the teens lips. “You’re everything.”

They were healing, Derek decided. And now, they could heal together.

— fin.

Isn’t This Enough (one-shot)

Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: This has been in the works for awhile now, it’s based off “That Would Be Enough” from Hamilton. I’m not sure what got me into this angsty of a mood, but I kind of like it. So yeah this is a lot of angst with just a touch of fluff. 

Warnings: cheating. I think that’s it. (I don’t think I swore which is incredible)

I couldn’t believe it. I mean, it was staring me in the face but how could I believe it? I shouldn’t be surprised, right? Big Hollywood actor. It doesn’t make sense that someone like me would actually be able to make him happy forever. I had hoped though, I had hoped during our first date, during our first kiss, the first time we had sex, when we met each other’s families, even once he proposed. I wanted to believe him, but in the back out my mind I was still just hoping it would stay this way. I should’ve suspected when he was away so much. We had been together for 2 years before getting married and he was never away more than a couple months at a time. Even when he was away we talked everyday, sometimes I was able to take time off to stay with him while filming. I should’ve known when he stopped asking me to come.

Keep reading

stretch out slow, swallow you whole

rating: nc-17

word count:  1,700+

status: completed

tags: bottom!dan, desperate!dan, coming untouched, rimming, a bit of dirty talk, purely gratuitous smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) oh and their landlord walks in

“That feel good?” He murmurs it in his ear and Dan shakes all over.

And then Phil gets caught up with it, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

“You gonna come from just my cock?”

Keep reading

Trans Lance Fic Part 11

Lance fits his and Keith’s lips together and he swears that nothing had ever felt more right. It’s like his lips were made just for Keith’s. Lance finds it adorable how Keith stands up on his toes in order to press in closer to the kiss. Both of them have their eyes shut as they get lost in the warm sensation of the others lips. Lance brings his hand up to run through Keith’s soft black hair just Keith slides his tongue along Lance’s lower lip. Lance parts his lips enough for Keith to slide his tongue into the Cuban’s mouth.

The door to the training room opens and neither of the lip licked boys notice. It is the high pitched screech that makes them jump apart from each other as fast as they can. “MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES! I KNEW YOU GUYS WERE GONNA GET TOGETHER BUT HAVE SOME DECENCY AND FIND A DARK ROOM OR SOMETHING!” Pidge shrieks while rubbing at her eyes as if that would get rid of the sight she just witnessed.

Keith rolls his eyes and takes Lance’s soft hand into his own then looks at Pidge expectantly. “So what did you come in here to do?” The Korean asks. “I came in here to tell you both that dinner is ready. I think I lost my appetite after watching you two suck each others tongues.” Pidge says with a groan and walks out of the room.

Keith turns to look at Lance and finds that the Cuban is trying his hardest to avoid eye contact as his cheeks are bright pink. “Lance come on, look at me. ” Keith says softly. The Cuban raises his gaze to lock with Keith’s. “I can not believe that Pidge just caught us kissing… Like how does that not bother you?!” Lance asks and throws his hands up in exasperation.

Keith shrugs in response to Lance’s question then turns and starts walking to the door knowing that Lance will follow him. He waits for the door to slide open then takes a step through it. He turns to look at the taller boy over his shoulder, “Somebody was bound to catch us at some point. Let’s just be glad we were fully clothed.” He says then starts walking toward the dining room, smirking to himself as he hears Lance spluttering behind him.

Lance stands stunned at the door of the training room. Did Keith really just say that? Did Keith actually want to do things with him that didn’t involve clothing? He shakes his head to clear his thoughts before the my wander to far into that last topic. “K-Keith wait! You can’t just say something like that then walk away!” Lance shouts after the shorter boy and runs to catch up with him.

Lance catches up to Keith and glances at the Korean from the corner of his eye. Keith is looking at Lance from the corner of his own eye so he catches the glance in his direction. “So um… what does this make us?” Lance asks quietly. “Well if you are okay with it, I was hoping you’d be my boyfriend.” Keith says and stops so he can look up at Lance.

Lance stops and looks down at Keith. “I will definitely be your boyfriend.” He says and smiles widely. Keith gently pulls Lance down into a sweet kiss that ends quickly. They intertwine their hands and walk the rest of the way to the dining room.

They are too busy smiling dopily at each other to notice the knowing look from Pidge as Hunk groans and passes her a few space dollars and promises to make her the space equivalent of peanut butter cookies later. Or the slightly surprised but proud look from Shiro as the pair takes their seats next to each other still holding hands under the table.

(WOOP WOOP IT’S LANCE’S BIRTHDAY!!! Please make sure to check out more of my Trans Lance works: Trans Lance Master List )

Crown City’s Finest Reporters - Journalist!Prompto x Reader

Thanks for the inspiration @chimeracuddles


Tag list: @xnoctits @disneygirl2202 @newrecipehhhh @mp938368 @eternallydaydreaming2015 @blondechocobobutt @itshaejinju

Word Count: 2,007 words


It was a known fact, you were not the person who ignored a challenge when faced with it. In fact, to you, everything is a competition. You made sure everyone knew that.

Your article was always the most read, your pictures were outstanding. The boss loved your work and everyone hated it. You sat at the top of countless articles, a throne made from your best pictures, with a paper mache crown- of your articles- upon your head.

You took a lot of pride in your work, and you spent tons of time on it, researching, getting everything you possibly could from the situation, questioning those who were part of it.

You loved being apart of the Insomnia Post.

Until he showed up.

Your new rival, Prompto Argentum, who happened to have a knack for photography. He stood at the office entrance, looking around like a lost puppy. He wore black framed glasses, with a white button down shirt and black plaid pants. In one hand, he held a notebook, in the other a cup of coffee, and a camera hung from around his neck.

You looked over at him, an odd feeling of jealoudy and anger rising in your chest, along with another feeling of slight… attraction?

You stood up abruptly, everyone’s eyes turned towards you. Your face was red, your glasses were fogged slightly, and your hands were clenched. You marched out of the office to find your boss.

He was leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning over a sample article. Once you shut the door, he glanced up at you.

“Mr. Scientia, this is outrageous.” You hissed. He raised a brow and allowed a smirk to form on his lips.

“Pardon? What are you ranting on about, Ms. L/N?” He asked, setting the paper down and facing you now.

“Who’s the new guy? Why is his article better than mine?” You demanded. The boss simply shrugged his shoulders and leaned back.

“His photography is fairly good, he has a knack for it. Perhaps it catches the people’s eyes.” Scientia explained hypothetically. “In fact, with your outstanding writing and his beautiful photography, I was going to put the two of you on a project together. The Imperialists will be visiting soon, the two of you will report on their visit and I hope to see this silly rivalry is over with.” He explained.

You grimaced before turning on your heel and walking off. You stopped by the door momentarily, glancing back at your boss. “Does he know?”

He replied with a curt nod, which made you groan. You walked out and shut the door behind you, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. You heard footsteps heading towards you, without looking, you quickly turned the opposite way and began to scurry along.

“Hey- wait!” The person called.

It was Prompto.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you slowed, allowing him to catch up. “Jeez, I’ve never seen someone walk so fast!” He said, offering a goofy smile. You glanced at him, your heart racing. You noticed your glasses began to fog.

“Well, it is called walking with a purpose.” You reply, taking them off and cleaning them. What’s wrong with you? Why were you suddenly acting this way?

He hesitated to speak again, staring at you in awe. Shaking himself out of it, he grinned at you. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Prompto-”

“Argentum. I know.” You finished for him. “Y/N L/N, I believe we’re partners for this upcoming article.” You explained, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Oh yeah! I’m so excited, we’re going to make the best article ever!” He cheered. You rolled your eyes in response, stopping in front of your desk.

“Yes, I suppose so. We will meet in front of the Citadel tomorrow morning.” You said, glancing his way. “Until then, I have tons of work to do, so please avoid me at all costs.” You added, sitting down. He had a surprised- and slightly hurt- look on his face, before turning away and walking to his own desk. What did he do wrong?

The next morning, Prompto was already there, snapping some shots of the Citadel from outside the gates. Once he heard you, he turned quickly with his signature smile.

“There you are Y/N! They won’t be arriving until another few hours but I figured that we should get here early.” He said, pointing the camera lens at you.

You put your hand in front of your face, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I kind of figured that when I saw we are literally the only people here.” You replied shortly. He raised a brow, sighing from defeat.

“What did I do wrong, Miss L/N?” Prompto asked, letting the camera strap fall around his neck. You looked over at him, he was obviously hurt, those puppy eyes burned holes into your heart. You shrugged and walked past him, leaning against the wall.

“We’re rivals, don’t you know that? My articles use to be number one until you finally waltzed in. I suppose not everything sweet lasts forever though.” You murmured. He raised a brow and followed you.

“I didn’t mean to like, take your spot in superiority. I’m not even sure why people like mine so much… It just kind of happens?” He said, looking over at you. You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Why be a journalist when you have such amazing talent in photography?” You asked. He shrugged in reply.

“I mean, photography is great and all, but it’s a hit and miss kind of thing. I want people to see my work, so I decided journalism would be the best for me.” He explained, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Plus, journalists tend to have amazing people to work with, photographers spend a lot of time by themselves.”

Your cheeks adopted a soft glow, which made you glance away from him. “I suppose that’s true.” You murmured in response.

“What about you?” He asked. You raised a brow, looking over at him.

“What about me?” You responded, standing up straight.

“What made you become a journalist?”

You thought about it for a moment. There was no real reason. “Uh, well I guess I liked writing a lot. I would’ve become an author, but that’s kind of a hit and miss deal too.”

“Ah, so we’re on the same boat, huh?” He mumbled. You glanced his way, then looked past him. A car was driving up, the gates to the Citadel opened and closed as soon as the car was through. Both you and Prompto walked up to them, looking past and watching the car roll to a stop.

A woman stepped out, her hair was tied back into a ponytail, she wore a beautiful dress. A glaive came over and greeted her. You heard Prompto snapping a few pictures next to you, he probably had the same question in mind.

Who was she?

The woman began to walk up the stairs, but paused momentarily. She turned to the car, allowing you and Prompto to see her face fully.

She’s the Oracle, Lady Lunafreya. How come she arrived earlier than the Imperials?

In that short amount of time, you began to scribble down note about everything, the type of car, what she was wearing, why she was alone, the glaive, everything. The car started up again, and the gates opened and closed once the car was through.

“I wonder why the Oracle is here by herself. You’d think the Nifs would give her a lift, considering she’s pretty important to them.” Prompto said, glancing your way. You shrugged.

“There’s many possibilities. Perhaps it was done in secret, or it was a way to let King Regis know that they aren’t coming for a fight. There’s also the possibility she was sent early to see her fiancé. He’s gone already, isn’t he?” You asked, Prompto nodded in response.

You shrugged finally, clicking your pen and dropping it into your jacket pocket. “Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t risky.” You murmured. Prompto agreed and glanced down at his watch.

“We still have like three hours until the rest of the Empire shows up, is there something you want to do in the mean time?” He asked.

“It is close to lunch time, there’s a small sandwich shop nearby, you want to stop there real quick?”

Prompto nodded, and the two of you began to walk, leaving the Citadel behind. The shop was only ten minutes away, and the two of you spent about an hour in the shop itself. While you sipped on your tea, Prompto was fiddling with his camera, messing with different filters and modes. While you were staring at something, he lifted his camera up and pointed it at you. The moment was picture perfect, how your eyes were fixed on something, how you held the cup to your lips, how you held it, for some reason, it made his heart swell.

You heard the camera click, which pulled you out of your daydream. Prompto sat there with a goofy smile. “I was just testing out a filter, don’t worry.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “We should be heading back, we don’t wanna miss anything exciting.” You said, standing. He watched you stand, stuffing the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth and jumping up.

“Leggo!” He cheered, walking swiftly out the door. You followed close behind, not wanting to lose him in the afternoon crowd.

The two of you took your time, the reason to you was unknown. The Nifs will be showing up any time now, yet that made neither of you walk any faster. You noticed Prompto was beginning to inch closer to you, up until your hands would brush. Your cheeks turned pink, every time your hands would touch slightly, your heart would race.

It was undeniably the same for Prompto. His heart fluttered when he glanced at your blushing face. It drove him wild. Why was it that you two just met yesterday, and he was feeling this way? You two were adults who were working together on one project. Was it the fact you kept running away from his hints? Or was it the fact that you were utterly adorable, the way your glasses fogged when you were flustered?

It didn’t matter. Right now, both of your focuses were on getting as much information as you could. The leaders and army were already in the gates. You could see the Chancellor and the Emperor, as well as a few memebers of the Magitek Infantry, led by Verstael. Prompto, who was watching in awe next to you, quickly lifted his camera and began snapping away.

You managed to scribble down a lot of the important stuff, a lot of the minor details were missed but it was still just enough to make a good article.

The two of you watched in silence as each of them disappeared into the tall building, until the doors finally shut. You were silent for a little bit, until Prompto stood up straight.

“Well. That was fun.” He said, looking over at you. “Did you get anything good?”

You shrugged one shoulder, looking through your notes. “It won’t be the best work I’ve done, but it’ll suffice.” You replied. “What about you? Anything worth keeping?”

“I hope so.” He responded. The two of you went silent afterwards. Was there anything else to talk about?

“Hey uh-” Prompto started, clearing his throat and putting on a smile that wasn’t so confident. “I know we just met yesterday, and I guess that we aren’t exactly what you would call ‘friends’, but I’d like to get to know you a lot better, you know? So maybe we can talk it over at dinner tonight?” He asked, raising a brow with a sly grin on his lips.

Immediately your cheeks flared. With foggy glasses and an embarrassed smile, you could only nod in response, your heart jumping for joy.

The Scenic Route

Hwiyoung scenario | Fluff | 1641 words

Requested by @witches-of-supernatural-end

   'Im late!’ You thought to yourself as you ran out the school gates, avoiding pedestrians as you zoomed by. It was a normal, boring day, as was everyday. You went to school, paid as much attention as your patience let you, met with your friends and decided to call it a day. If only your classmate hadn’t held you back for that long after class, since you had somewhere to be.
    You turned and ran towards the bus stop, coming to a halt before you clashed into the handfull of people waiting. There were never many people in this stop, even though there are two schools to either side. Taking this bus was a waste of time, the bus on the other side of your school had an at least 30 minutes faster route towards your home and most residential areas. But after one day you missed your normal bus, you decided not to wait for it and walk to this one, you embraced the thought of the change of route, sort of like an adventure. Only when you were sitting there waiting for the bus, you found a reason to permanently change buses.
    You were still catchig your breath. The bus was still 10 minutes from arriving so the people of the stop eyed you strangely since you had sprinted as if you were going to miss it. You ignored their stares, fixing your hair calmly and looking around on-the-sly. Your heart seemed to stop as you found your “target”, still gently walking towards the bus stop from the opposite side that you came from. He was immersed in his mobile phone, headphones on. He pushed a strand of bleached-blonde hair away from his eyes. Its been three weeks since you’ve been seeing him, and he still took your breath away as if it was the first time.
    ‘His friend didnt come with him this time.’ You thought, since he always went home with his friend, they must be neighbors or something. He laid his head back on the wall, looking up at the sky mouthing something you couldn’t understand. He was deeply invested in the song, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he looks like he’s modeling for a magazine, which you wouldn’t doubt for one second. His bright yellow uniform was clean and pristine, fitting him perfectly; you blushed realizing how awkward it was for you to think of that.
    The bus made its way to the stop, its doors creaking open. You all piled your way into an almost full bus, finding a seat near the back. You took the window seat. You put your bag at your feet, bending over to look inside it for your headphones, noticing in the corner of your eye as two long legs slid onto your row and sat next to you. You looked up out of curiosity, and were greeted by no other than blondie himself. He smile awkwardly, probably surprised about your reaction, which you hadn’t noticed had been a little too surprised.
    “There were no other seats…” he said shyly. You nodded without saying anything and decided to give up on your search for your headphones. The bus started moving, slowly boucing with each bump on the road.
    “You’re from (your school)?” His voice broke the silence. You looked a at him, his headphones were no longer in his ears and you seemed to have his full attention.  You tried not to blush and nodded gently.  "Is this the only way to your home? Doesn’t the other bus go directly to the residential areas?“
You smiled at his attempt at smalltalk “I like this route more.” You said getly, only afterwards noticing that that sounded a bit suspicious.
    He tilted his head in confusion and laughed gently “Why’s that?”
    ‘You.’ The thought popped in your mind but you shook it off. “Better scenery.” Well, you didnt lie, but you knew you werent the type to like looking out the windows.
    “Ah so you prefer the city, too?” He laughed again, you were beginning to find comfort in it. “I’m Hwiyoung, by the way. I go to (his school). ”
    You introduced yourself, hapiness emerging from you since now you didn’t have to refer to him as “the blonde from the bus stop.”
    “You usually sit with someone here though, is he sick?” You blurted out, only then realizing it might be a little rude of you to ask about somebody else.
    “Oh,” He looked at his hands sitting on his lap, smiling a little awkwardly. “That’s Chani, he’s my roommate. He had, um, some business to attend to. Sorry, I hadn’t notice you had seen us before.” He laughed again.
    You felt your cheeks grow hot, but played it off “How can you not notice two tall guys in bright yellow clothing?” His head flung back as he laughed.
    “Yeah I guess it’s kinda hard to miss. Chani said you had most likely seen us but I thought he was just joking around.”
    His words seemed to linger for a second until the flutter in your stomach pushed you to ask. “You’ve seen me before?”
    He turned to you, flustered with sudden realization of what he just said. “Ah, that was a bit creepy, sorry…” Hwiyoung covered his mouth with his hand. He suddenly seemed nervous, his foot tapped on the floor as if he was ready to run away.
    A moment passed by and the only thing you could hear was the low roar of the bus engine and a few passengers chatting quietly. The awkward air made you nervous as well, and you feared that your first conversation with the Blondie from the bus would be the last.
    “I don’t have to take this bus.” Hwiyoung broke the silence. He was looking down at his hands shyly. “We have a driver that can pick us up, but Chani is making me go on the bus to force me to talk to you. We had to use the bus once, and I noticed you sitting in the back. Chani won’t let it go, he forced me to come back the day after to see if you’d be on it again. He’s pretty persistent, so he said if I didn’t talk to you today when he wasn’t here then he would force it tomorrow. I didn’t want to embarrass you… ”
    His words swam through your head as your cheeks turned bright red. The blonde boy on the bus, the reason you were always late to get home, the reason you decided to spend an extra 30 minutes on an uncomfortable, hot bus… Turns out he was doing the same to see you?
    “I was late for my bus. ” you blurted out. “So I decided to walk to this bus for once. I noticed you in the bus stop, and next thing I new I was back the next day, and it’s been that way since then…”
    He turned to you as you spoke, as shocked as you were with his sudden confession. Hwiyoung looked down, scratching the back of his head and laughing shyly. “If both of us hadn’t been on that bus we wouldn’t be on it right now.” You giggled, thinking of how silly all this was.
    The bus stopped, and with a look out the window you realized this was the end of your conversation with Hwiyoung. “This is your stop.” you said and he seemed to jump back into reality, grabbing his bag and standing up, letting people behind him pass first.
    “It was nice talking to you.” he said, a slight sad tone to his words. Seems he didn’t want the conversation to end either. He waved and began to walk towards the bus doors. Hwiyoung stopped in his tracks, turning around to face you. “Y/N,” he called out.
    It was the first time he had said your name, somehow you thought it sounded so much better coming from his lips.
    He looked at you straight on, cheeks slightly flushed.  "Can I sit with you again tomorrow?“
    You couldn’t help but smile. "I’ll be waiting.” you said in response.
    His face lit up and he said goodbye again, then walked out the bus. You looked out the window in curiosity. He seemed to jump off the last step, grabbed his head with both hands and shook it slightly, face pure of excitement. You laughed, but found yourself doing the same on the rest of the ride home.

    You stood at the bus stop. People were chatting quietly. The weather was perfect. But you looked around and noticed that the Blondie from the bus was nowhere to be seen. You were starting to believe that he wouldn’t show. The bus roared to a stop in front of you, and you lost all hope of seeing him. You weren’t mad, you just hoped that nothing bad had happened to him. Everybody started piling up to enter the bus and the doors.
    “Y/N!” You heard the fast stomping of feet and turned to see Hwiyoung running up to you, just like you had the day before. He stopped next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Sorry, I’m late.” he puffed, slightly embarrassed.
    “That’s okay, I was thinking about waiting for the next bus. ” you laughed as he suddenly became flustered.
    Everybody had entered the bus. You noticed that he wasn’t using his school uniform. Does that mean he hadn’t gone to school? Had he run all the way here just to get on the bus with you?
    Hwiyoung shyly put his hand on your back to guide you onto the steps. “Let’s go. ” he smiled down at you, pushing you gently. You were so glad you had missed the bus that day.

Originally posted by sf9fantasy

(when you find a gif that fits your scenario perfectly)

Sorry I took such a long hiatus guys!! I had a horrible case of writers block (and a newfound obsession with GOT7 and BTS) But just like SF9 Im back with a boom!! C: make sure to check out my masterlist, link in my bio! 

I still don’t have a computer so its a  bit hard to write scenarios but I’m gonna do my best!!