we were in town and went to his memorial

Hush (PT. 1 full chapter)

Chibs x Reader

Summary: You’re an old family friend of SAMCRO, having been close with Jax during your teenage years. Things have changed over the years, and suddenly you’ve found old relationships rekindling. What happens when Jax gives you a job opportunity? And what happens when you come face to face with a familiar biker whom you’ve had an eye for since you were a teen?

A/N: Forgive me if Chibs isn’t the best. I’m still working on things.

“Anarchism stands for liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from shackles and restraint of government. It stands for social order based on the free grouping of individuals.”

~ Emma Goldman

“I’m ridin’ out the wind, I’m comin’ home
It don’t matter where I’ve been, I’m comin’ home
Crawlin’ on all fours, I’m comin’ home
Turnin’ brick walls into doors, I’m comin’ home.”

~ Murder By Death


You were set to start work at Teller-Morrow Automotive, helping Gemma keep the books. That would be the job the public saw, but you were also on staff as a medic, just in case someone ever needed to be patched up and Emergency Rooms weren’t an option. It was no secret to you what kind of life SAMCRO led, nor did it bother you. You respected it above all, always have. You had been a family friend for years, your father was apart of a different charter, but had died when you were 5. You also attended highschool with Jax, and Tara. You had always been close with them, having gotten arrested with both of them a few times as teenagers, most notably a weapons charge and a drunk and disorderly.

Your mother always tried to keep you going on the right path, to stay away from the Outlaws you grouped yourself in with. Having a father that died when you were young while living the same type of lifestyle, it only made her pressure you more to go straight and narrow, though your mother had never necessarily been an upstanding citizen herself. It worked for a while, but you always found yourself going back to that beaten path. The path You loved. Your mother died this past year, and it only reinforced your doubt now that she was gone, and that doubt with the added persuasion made you make your choice.
You had recently quit your job as a nurse at St. Thomas, working alongside Tara once she got into town from Chicago. It was like a whirlwind when she did, and it was great to reconnect, but you knew nursing wasn’t something you wanted to do anymore - not in a professional setting anyway. You had gotten back into contact with Jax at St. Thomas a few weeks ago while assisting Tara with his newborn; Abel. You never thought that this would be the situation that would reintroduce all of you to each other. After your fourth encounter of seeing him and having small talk here and there when it didn’t involve his son, you two had an interesting conversation.

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In Any Timeline and In Any World, I’m In Love You. (Barry Allen/The Flash Imagine)

Here’s a Barry Allen imagine since I haven’t written in a while. I’m brainstorming some ideas for some requests at the moment. 


I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by danielsharmans

Barry was never good at keeping secrets. It was a miracle that it took him forever to tell Iris that he was the Flash. So imagine his surprise when he realized that he’s kept his love for you a secret for over two years. 

You’ve told Caitlin about your adoration for Barry, which Caitlin blurted out to the speedster. So why hasn’t he acted upon his feelings yet? 

The answer was simple. He didn’t want to believe his emotions. He was afraid of rejection, due to his experience with loving Iris for as long as he’s had. Barry immediately tried to get his mind of his feelings towards you by quickly getting into a relationship with Patty, which ended soon after she moved. 

It wasn’t until he went to Earth 2 that he began to allow himself to fall deeper for you. Barry found out that his Earth 2 counterpart had been married to Iris. After snooping around Earth 2 Barry’s lab, he found that Earth 2 Barry was still in love with a mermaid from Atlantis. That mermaid was you. 

Then Eobard Thawne revealed to him that in the future, Barry would find himself in love with someone who wasn’t Iris. He would be affectionate towards you, but, like in Earth 2, he couldn’t act on those feelings for he had already tied the knot with another. 

But in Flashpoint… It was different. In both situations, he knew you existed in his life. But in Flashpoint, Barry was in uncharted waters. The first thing Barry did was look for you, in hopes that he could finally have you, but he couldn’t find you, leading him to conclude that you weren’t a part of his life. Barry attempted to move on by flinging himself onto that Iris. His parents disapproved and quickly questioned his motives. When Barry asked why they weren’t happy for him, his mother responded with, “(Y/N) has been out of town for not even two months and you’re already trying to cheat on her. If you didn’t love her, Bartholomew Henry Allen, then you shouldn’t have asked her to marry you. That poor girl is going to marry a man who will be unfaithful to her. I did not raise you to be that kind of a man.” 

When he had the Reverse-Flash fix the timeline, he prayed that he would have you in his life still and that maybe the two of you would end up together. And luckily you were still there.

“You’re acting weird.” You muttered over to Barry as the two of you did your usual routine walk to your car. Barry raised an eyebrow, questioning you. “Barry I’ve know you. I know when you’re bothered by something. So please, my ears are open and my shoulder is here for you to rest your head on. Unburden yourself.”

“I know I’m not supposed to tell you anything about timelines and-” Barry began

“You went back in time, I knew it.” You interrupted. “What’s changed?” 

Barry sighed, his breath taking form in the night. “I went back in time to save my mother. That sent everyone on this new timeline, Eobard Thawne called in Flashpoint. But then everything started going wrong. Wally was the Flash but he was dying. And then I started losing my memories. The only good thing out of that was that I was engaged to you, but you were out of town. And then I had-”

“We were engaged?” You questioned. “Sorry. Go on.” Barry quickly filled you in on everything.The Rival injuring Wally to the point that Wally couldn’t heal himself. Then him losing his memories. And then Alchemy. “But we were engaged… I wasn’t dead right?”

“Thankfully no.” Barry said. “Some timeline right? Even powerless Barry Allen could get you to fall in love with him. Powerless Barry Allen had the courage to even propose to you while I’m over here struggling just to tell you that I’m in love you.” 

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, your eyebrows raising, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. The felt the blood rising to your face and you smiled at the thought of Barry Allen being in love with you. 

“Yes, (Y/N). I’m in love with you. On Earth 2, that Barry was in love with you. In the future, that Barry is in love with you. In freaking Flashpoint, that Barry was in love with you.” Barry declared. “And so does this Barry. The Barry that’s standing right in front of you.” 

“You’re in love with me?” You repeated, still in disbelief. 

“Yes, (Y/N)! In Any Timeline and In Any World, I’m In Love With You.” Barry confessed. “I’m in love with you.” He repeated once more before taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a quick kiss. When Barry noticed your surprise, he quickly regretted it. “I’ve screwed up. Oh no. Let’s just pretend that never happen-” 

You interrupted him once again with a quick peck on his lips. “You can’t screw up considering that I’m in love with you, too, Barry.” 

1997 [3]

Part 1, 2

Characters: Dean Winchester, twin sister!reader, Sam Winchester, characters from 4x13, OC characters.

Words: 1500

Tags: @daughters-and-winsisters @evyiione  @darkestgrungeuniverse @fabulouslycassie @delessapeace-blog @mariairwin666 @1amluke @saveprettydays @cookee50 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @samanddeanshotsis

A/N: Just gonna clarify that this could be any town, I’m not thinking of anywhere specific while writing this. The episode ”After School Special”, where I’m taking names and characters and so on from — I’m using the setting — might take place in a certain town, I don’t remember, but yeah. My series doesn’t, it’s just a small town, that’s all.

Music suggestion: Tennis Court - Lorde (Again, I just listened to it while I wrote, and didn’t think of the lyrics, so yeah.)

Your name: submit What is this?

The beautiful thing with moving around and switching schools like you and your brothers did — was that you could become anyone. No one knew you from before, no one knew what you’ve been through — and they definitely didn’t know what your father did for a living either for that matter.

So, you were free to be whoever you liked, because the only ones who really knew you — the real you — were your family. Because, no one ever got to know you. Because, before you could make friends, true friends, you had to leave again. Just like Sammy had said.

Dean usually hung around the ”cool” kids. With his sarcasm and charisma, he had no problem with getting people to laugh. And for some reason, he was popular with the girls too. You didn’t understand that one.

Sometimes, you joined Dean and hung out with those crowds. But, other times, you went a different way. You tried out hanging with almost every type of group that existed in high school.

It was just that you didn’t bother this time. This time, as you said to yourself, you were going to keep to yourself. It would spare you energy, and then it wouldn’t be hard at all to leave. There would be nothing to miss.

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All I Know is How to Love You - Chapter Six (Yoongi x You Gang AU)

(Just a shorty tonight and a special treat tomorrow! ;)

Originally posted by yoonkooks

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All I Know is How to Love You - Chapter Six

“Just do as you’re told, Y/N, and nothing will happen to you.” Another man in a mask. Another scary dark room. Another night spent wondering if you meant enough to your parents to be fought for. After the fifth time, you had stopped shaking in fear, and by the tenth you had learned to keep your eyes blank and your expression uncaring.

Someone always came. You were never gone for more than twenty four hours at a time, but that didn’t change the fact that someone was always trying to get to your father. Whether it be for money, drugs, or just pure revenge, there was always someone harboring a grudge against the Cypher mafia and they always thought the answer was you. You were his daughter after all.

But no one seemed to understand that you meant nothing to them.

The first time you were kidnapped, your parents weren’t even the ones to show up and rescue you. They had sent one of their most trusted employees with a brief case full of money and a grim smile. When you arrived home that night, no one was there to greet you with cries of relief or tears of joy, and the next morning at the breakfast table you were scolded for not remembering the self defense skills you had been learning from the moment you could walk on your own two feet.

“We told you this would happen sooner or later, Y/N, you should have been more careful.” He reprimanded, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper. Your six year old lip trembled as hot tears fell down your cheeks and a strangled sob left your throat as you recalled the nights events.

Your father threw down his newspaper and glared at you. “Knock it off and toughen up, Y/N. I raised you better than that.”

Those were the words that echoed in your ear every time you were kidnapped from that day on, every time you were used as a human punching bag and especially every time you saw your father’s face. Staring at him while tied to the chair that he had ordered you into, the words resounded on full blast through your head, repeating over and over again. The looks of disbelief on the boys faces barely even registering.

“You barely even flinched at the knife, though, Y/N you really are my tough kiddo.” Your father chuckled, moving to cut you out of your rope restraints. The second you were free, you pushed past him and up the cellar steps, only to be yanked back violently. “We aren’t done here yet.”

Your father’s eyes flashed dangerously at Rap Monster and your stomach lurched at the sight. “Rap Monster, long time no see! You’ve really grown, son, I remember when you were just a little toddler chasing my precious daughter around our garden. Now you’re practically a man!”

Jin’s face mirrored the same shock you had internalized at your father’s statement. “You knew Y/N before this?”

Rap Monster hadn’t dropped his gaze from your father as he answered. “I suspected she was his daughter after the way she fought and I got the notice from my father that Cypher was back in town. I wasn’t sure because Y/N and I were playmates when we were first born before everything that went on between Cypher and Whalien. We were too young to really remember each other.”

As he said the words you thought maybe you could glimpse just the slightest memory of parents laughing as a little boy chased you around, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. You shook your head a little, trying to clear it of everything that was currently happening.

“And now you’re all grown and rebelling against your father and starting a gang that thinks it can take on the most powerful mafia in this city.” Your father chuckled darkly and your heart jumped. You had been in more than your fair share of near death experiences and close calls, but your father was still the scariest person you had ever encountered. “Not that I can really blame you since your father isn’t even worthy of being compared to the scum of my shoe. It’s just a shame he didn’t raise you to be loyal like my little Y/N.”

Rap Monster’s hand curled into a fist dangerously, and you were suddenly afraid for him. He didn’t honestly think he could take on your father did he?

“At least my father didn’t use me as bait to stomp out a gang of teens.” Rap Monster bit back.

You smirked a little. “It’s true.”

Your father’s eyes flashed at you and you shrunk away a little bit, knowing what would happen if you continued to act this way. “Your father would do the same thing if he was in this situation.”

“You’re sick. Using your own daughter to get to us.” It was Suga who flung the insult this time, his eyes hooded with nonchalance but his words holding something else beneath. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying for the hundredth time to figure him out. “It didn’t even work so I hope it was worth it.”

“Who said it didn’t work?” Your father countered. “That’s all for tonight, boys. As I’m sure you’ve suspected, this isn’t the last you’ll be hearing from us.” He tried to yank you up the stairs but you stood concrete in your spot.

“I’ll be home later.” You told him blankly. He chuckled at you slightly.

“Hanging out with these hooligans?”

“No.” Was all you offered.

“Don’t be home too late princess.” And that easily, he was gone. Further proof that you meant absolutely nothing to him.


You turned around to see equal looks of incredulity across three faces accompanied by a single look of exhaustion. Rolling your eyes, you started up the steps. You weren’t surprised to hear them following you.

“Were you ever planning on telling us?” Jin questioned, a hint of anger in his tone. You blatantly ignored him. Then you were being whipped around. “What the hell is your problem? Answer me!”

“I’m trying to get the hell out of here for god sakes! And whatever made this possessive attitude come over you tonight make sure it’s gone the next time I see you.” The words pretty much came out as a shout that reverberated off the ceiling of the building. You were shaking pretty badly now, the entire situation playing over and over again in your head. The words not right, not right, not right just on repeat as you remembered your father’s crooked smirk at the sight of you, bleeding out for his cause. Your wrist throbbed and your throat was beginning to close in panic, something that had never happened before.

Reaching for the nearest object, not bothering to see what it was, you chucked it at the wall with all of you force, some of the panic lessening at the sickening crack it made as it came in contact with it. Breathing heavily, you found reached for something else and doing the exact same, pretending that it was being thrown right into your father’s head.

You barely even noticed the warmth that emanated from your arm which Jin had cautiously wrapped his fingers around, trying his best to calm you. In a matter of seconds, you had demonstrated more emotion than from the moment he had met you and it scared him a little bit.

“Y/N, let me fix up your wrist.” The pressure of his fingertips reminded you that you needed to stay calm and not appear weak. They grounded you back to reality and you didn’t fight him as he led you down an unmarked hall. Neither of you spoke as he pulled out the necessary things to fix your wound and you just watched him, enjoying the way his bangs would get in his eyes every few seconds and he would flick his head just slightly to try and move them out of the way.

“You must have had a hard childhood with a dad like that.” Jin assumed, speaking quietly and not looking at you.

“I’m alive and healthy, isn’t that all that counts?”

“Not necessarily,” But rather than pressing it he changed the subject. “I’m sorry. If I upset you at the party.”

You didn’t say anything at first, worried that you might hurt his feelings. It was clear that he felt something for you and that was far too dangerous. “It’s fine.”

“Can I ask you something?”

No. “I guess.”

Jin took a steadying breath. “Is he the reason why you refuse to open up at all? Why you seem more like a robot than a human being?”

The words stung a little bit for some reason. You knew this about yourself. You had developed an exterior shell that was practically impenetrable, the only force ever close to breaking it was this circle of seven idiots. But was that really how they saw you? As a machine instead of a person?

“I imagine he has a great deal to do with it, yes.” You answered quietly, not daring to let any type of emotion enter your tone. “You can only take being hurt so many times before you finally just shut yourself off from it.”

Jin was silent but he stared at you with those large, drowning orbs that made you forget everything when you looked into them. He was the complete opposite from you—an open book that displayed every emotion that toiled within him. There was something undeniably innocent about his gaze and his worry and it made you wish that you could return it unconditionally in the same way that he offered it. Instead you just sighed and looked away.

“How much longer are you gonna stare at me like some sob story?” You questioned, maybe a little too harshly. He straightened up then and came closer.

“I don’t think you’re a sob story, I’m just trying to imagine what it must have been like for you.” He replied, his voice just a whisper against your skin. He held your injured hand gingerly, inspecting it for a minute before raising your wrist to meet his warm lips. They were soft and careful, but you cringed just a little bit at the gesture, resisting the urge to yank your hand away. After a second he dropped your hand and turned away. “Should I walk you home?”

“I’ll be fine.” You answered instantly, hopping to your feet and heading to the door.

He sighed. “I figured.”

It felt like a round of deja vu when you approached your house for the second time that night. By now the first streaks of daylight were peeking through the breaks in the trees and exhaustion weighed heavily on every step you took.

He was sitting at the dining room table when you entered, a newspaper in his hands. You sat down across from him on shaky legs, trying to avoid his gaze as best you could.

“You know what I’m going to ask of you.”

You nodded numbly, trying your best to bite back the insults and strings of profanities that were lined up inside of your head. Trapped, you were always trapped. Pinned underneath this microscope that your father controlled with strings attached to your limbs in order for your every move to be controlled.

“Good girl.”

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Through the Dark

Author’s Note: Heyyy guys!!! So here is my entry for @one-shots-supernatural‘s SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge for Week 17!! I honestly have no idea if this makes any sense. The words literally just went BLECH! onto the screen. I apologize profusely for this. I hope you guys enjoy!!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mention of Deaths, Angst, Language, A smudge of Fluff.

Prompt: “How long have you been standing there.”

Originally posted by crossroadscastiel

It always happened at night.

Right about the time when the motel room was quiet and the soft sounds of Sam and Dean’s low breathing were the only thing I heard, that’s when it happened. It was almost kind of annoying, to be completely honest.

I hated being weak. I hated the moment when my stomach would tighten, when my lungs would contract, when the world blurred in my eyes as disgusting tears welled in my eyes. I hated it all.

But I couldn’t help it.

So I climbed out of the bed that I shared with Sam for the night and tiptoed my way outside, letting the cool air fill my lungs. I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and began a slow walk across the pavement.

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And You Are?


Three months.

Three months I sat and waited for him to regain consciousness. After the crash things went hazy for a while.

We were out on a walk after an evening out, aimlessly wondering the streets of the small town under moonlight. Laughing at old memories we had shared and danced about on pavements. Then the screeching began, the screeches that haunt me to this day. His scream following as I had my back turned and faced only him, seeing the pure look of fear loom across his face, the whites of his eyes being more prominent than ever before. He violently threw me aside as I heard a crash and was instantly covered in scratches and felt something in my leg, buried into my skin. I yelled in pain but couldn’t see, as my vision became less blurred I saw pieces of a car surrounding me. Larger chunks were further away and then I saw it, the front of a car completely smashed up with a broken window and a person hanging out of the front. My eyes darted around as I screamed his name, not hearing a response. People began to gather around and scream at the lifeless body in the front of the bonnet. But my screams overpowered theirs as I cried for him, then I saw him, or what I could make out of him. Wanting to move closer I tried but couldn’t, whatever had impaled my leg repressed movement and I was forced to sit there and see him. His head was covered in blood, soaking his golden hair to Crimson that clung to his scalp. His lower half was hidden beneath wreckage and my breathing became heavier. Then I blacked out.

The doctors said I had gotten lucky, luck had nothing to do with it. If it wasn’t for Ashton, I would’ve been dead. The driver of the car had been drinking apparently and swerved too quick, he died that night from the impact, I survived but remained on crutches whilst my leg healed.

Three months down the line and Ashton remains almost lifeless hooked up onto various machines with wires and tubes sticking out of him at every exposed area of his skin. I sat and watched them change wires or do monitors on him everyday, I learnt the routine and knew what time his mum phoned to speak to me about his progress. The truth was, there was no progress, Ashton was fortunate in a sense that he didn’t die. I thought he was dead but he wasn’t, he hadn’t lost too much blood and was able to survive but now remains in a coma. His head remains fully bruised and his whole body in cuts and stitches which are often changed once every few days.

As I sat here I longed to see his hazel eyes again, how he would giggle at the stupidest of jokes I told him, or showed him this rubbish dog video and I would be in hysterics and he would call me adorable. I missed hearing his voice and how the accent differed to my own, how he would hold me when I needed him most, like how I needed him now.

Another doctor walked in and did the usual checks, monitoring heart rate, brain activity, blood levels and his progress overall. They barely spoke to me as I didn’t speak back, I sat in silence most of the time. Once the doctor left I returned to my familiar silence but knew I had to go home for a shower, Calum was able to fly over and stay a bit longer than the others were, no matter how much they wanted to stay they couldn’t.

Calum often instructed me to go home and shower, sleep and get refreshed before coming back. I allowed myself two hours at home then came back to sit with Ashton, never wanting to leave his side for too long.

Leaving his room I looked in between the slots in the blinds, how discomfort spread across his face and I quickly walked out. Knowing the sooner I could leave the sooner I could return. Once I was home I rushed about, not wanting to stop and glance at the many photos of me and Ashton, or the memories we had as I knew I would shatter all over again.

After a shower I heard my phone ring and ran for it, gripping onto my towel as I answered it, not checking who it was. “Yes this is y/n speaking.” I let out a shaky breath.

“Yes Ashton has seemed to have made progress, he is waking up. We would like you to get back here as soon as you can please, as many coma patients like to be surrounded my those they love.” The doctor spoke and I frantically got my things and hung up on him. Changing with no time to spare and got back to the hospital in record time.

Running down the all known corridors I reached his room, taking a moment to straighten myself up as I opened the door and sat by his side. The doctor smiled to me this time, rather than ignoring me. “He is stirring right now, just have patience with him.” I felt like letting out a dry laugh, I’ve been patient for three months.

My left hand held his as I saw the light hit my ring, how it sparkled purely after a long time. I took it off my finger and wore it as a necklace for a while, having seen it on my finger serving as a constant reminder to what I may have lost forever didn’t help me in anyway, but now it is where it belongs.

I felt pressure on my hand as I took a deep breath and felt my eyes fill with tears. He stirred and slowly opened his eyes, squirming for a few minutes before looking around, entirely confused.

“Ashton.” I spoke up, trying not to cry in case it alarmed him. He looked at me and pulled his hand away defensively, my heart began to feel heavy and my mind fogged up. “Ashton?” I questioned him as he turned to the doctor.

“I’m sorry, why am I in a hospital?” He asked with a rather confused tone. “And who is that?” He glanced to me as if I didn’t mean anything to him, and my heart shattered.

I excused myself as the trembling in my body couldn’t take it, I collapsed against a wall and cried, I cried hard. It took me a good thirty minutes to get myself together and face him in there.

Walking back to the room the doctor approached me before I could get inside. “It seems Ashton cannot remember anything previous to the accident, nor of you or your relationship. I am terribly sorry.” He informed me and I simply nodded.

I knew this was a risk, Ashton having no memory of me but I could not let three years go without a fight. “Hi Ashton.” I stood in the doorway and he glanced to me, sorrow written across his face.

“Oh, hi.” He seemed distant and it scared me inside, I was a stranger to him, but he was my everything.

“I’m Y/n. Do you remember anything about me?” I ask him, trying to hold it together as he remained blank.

“I wish I did, but y/n is a beautiful name. Bet you have a boyfriend.” He joked and hearing his giggle made my heart race.

“Actually I have a fiancé. Funny, I was supposed to me married a month ago.” I let out a dry chuckle, looking to my ring.

“What happened to him?” He asked, and I moved closer to him, and sat next to him holding his hand. He looked between my hand and my face and it struck him.

“You, you are my fiancé?” He asked, almost shocked and more confused than ever before. All I could do was nod as he sat there, he pulled his hand away and tried to process it but couldn’t pull any memories together.

“I wish I could remember you y/n, I truly do.” He let out a cry, and I saw a tear escape him, I wiped it away as a reaction. But he held my hand against his face, now it was my turn to cry again.

“I wish you could remember. But this isn’t some film where your memory comes back in an instant. It will take time and I will be here for you, only if you want me.” I spoke up and he gave me a strange look.

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asked.

“As we met three years ago, what if you now when you get yourself together doesn’t want to know me, or love me anymore. You could easily find yourself someone new.” I knew of the harsh reality that was ahead of me, Ashton was attractive to everyone, there was no denying he could find someone with ease.

“But I only want you. Take me home.” He said, wiping my cheek. I nodded as I got the doctors attention and he sorted Ashton out.

As we went back home it was silent. Neither of us wanting to discuss anything in particular as we knew nothing could be done, Ashton must’ve been preparing himself for what awaited him at this home we shared.

As we got to our door I wheeled him inside, and allowed him to wonder, hold each picture and allow me to explain each one. How every single one had an important memory. From our first date, to our holiday with his family, to our proposal and nights with the guys. At his concerts or silly pictures, everything we loved displayed and it hurt me to know this was new to him.

“It looks like we had a lot of fun.” He mumbled to himself as he wheeled through the rooms.

I let out a yawn as I prepared the sofa with blankets for myself. Ashton came over to see what I was doing and questioned me. “I’m getting this ready for me to sleep on. I’ve made the bed fresh for you. I can’t expect you to sleep with a stranger.” I explained and we both got ready to go to sleep.

After we said goodnight I stayed away on the sofa, thoughts whirring about if Ashton would ever remember, how we would relive these years and make new memories, tell the same stories as it was the first time.

“Y/n?” I shot upright and ran to the bedroom. As I arrived Ashton sat upright, with a calm expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, scared he was hurt. He shook his head and opened the duvet.

“Would you stay with me please? I know it’s strange to ask but I think it could help with my memory.” He suggested and after a few disagreements I accepted.

I climbed into bed and lay my head against his chest and allowed him to stroke my hair as I drifted off. The last thing I could make out was, “I wish I could remember you." 

Part Two

Writing Killer Stanford Supplements #3: What Matters to You, and Why?

In Part 1, I cracked open the black box of Stanford’s Intellectual Vitality Essay (IVE); in Part 2, I coaxed the Letter to Your Roommate Essay (LTYRE) to give up its stubborn secrets. Today, I will use flattery and chocolate to get Stanford’s What Matters to You and Why Essay (WMWE) to hand over the goods.

The Prompt:

What matters to you, and why?

Yep. That’s it. Simple prompt, simple answer, right?

Well, sort of. Or not really. Hm, actually, no, no, not at all.

Like the LTYRE, the WMWE has no template, no mold in which to pour the batter of your imagination (kind of a gross metaphor, sorry). This essay requires real thought and reflection. 

If your first instinct is to answer like this…

… then you are not thinking or reflecting. You are practicing the intellectual equivalent of watching a thirty-minute infomercial because the remote is just out of reach.

Try a little harder.

In fact, try a lot harder, because there is no easy way out of thinking. Thinking is hard.

Here’s what you can do to get started.

First, notice that there are two parts to the prompt:

1. The What

2. The Why

Let’s start with The What.

Go here, and scroll down to Exercise 3, The Values Diptych. Take 10 minutes to do the exercise, and come back. 

Ready? OK.

In the righthand column you should have listed several values and qualities. What I want you to do now is list 10 more, but focus on the values in particular. What is important to you? What objects, people, ideas, memories, concepts, experiences, historical moments matter to you? 

Here are some value categories to choose from:

commitment, leadership, family, trust, creativity, intelligence, community, independence, curiosity, first impression, open-mindedness, success, considerateness….

I could list 100 more, but you know what would be better? If you did! 

Next, I want you to start eliminating the ones that matter less than the others. I know, painful, nigh impossible even! But do it anyway. Keep chipping away at your list until you have only one or two values left. These are your core values - The What that matters to you most - and this is what you should be focusing on in your WMWE.

Now for The Why.

Why do these things matter to you so much? This is where the real reflection begins. You have to probe into your belief system, your world view, your Weltanschauung (such a cool word). You have to ask yourself, in other words, why do I care about this? 

Here’s what you can do to get your thoughts flowing. Turn the Values Diptych over, and on the back start to free-write about what your core values mean to you: When did they develop and why? Was there an experience that volcanically disgorged these values, or a series of experiences that slowly nurtured them to life and strength?

Values are not born in a vacuum. Like everything else, they came from somewhere, and this essay demands that you discover the origin story of your value system, and share it.

Now you can see why I described this essay as the heaviest of the three Stanford supplements. It’s existential. That doesn’t mean it can’t be funny or plainspoken. But it does mean that it has to be real, authentic, true, personal, and thoughtful. 

Now for an example:

My family doesn’t have the sort of structure you might expect, with a white picket fence and a nightly family dinner, but we do have a deep commitment to one another’s passions. I grew up in Ann Arbor, Michigan, a university-town where my parents weren’t often home. My earliest memories were of my grandparents taking care of me and of my brother, 9 years my elder, lobbing snowballs at me in the backyard.

However, when I was ten, my family split apart. My mother, a scientist with Pfizer, was relocated to San Diego, California, while my brother stayed behind at the University of Michigan. At the same time, my father moved to China to pursue his career in management, and my grandparents went with him. My mom suddenly became a single parent and I an only child.

Through this transition, we supported each other’s goals, but an even bigger obstacle loomed: my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, and my grandmother with Alzheimer’s. Everyone came together to help them, and my own desire to protect and support them led me to pursue such activities as studying cancer metastasis and hospital work.

The wounds that we endure eventually heal, and the heart of my family is as strong as ever. Today, my mother is in remission and I can’t wait for the coming weeks when I’ll get to see my family in China. Despite the hardships, I know what matters to me: the constant support that we give each other

This student’s values are clear: they are not only explicitly stated in the final sentence, but also implicitly shown throughout. The family bond, togetherness, support, determination and focus in the face of hardship. This student also writes a successful “cancer essay,” a genre that can all too easily slide into cliche and sentimentalism. This essay does neither.

“But my life is so boring and normal!” you cry, frustrated at the injustice of having had such a peaceful, pleasant, untroubled life. Oh, the humanity!

(Couldn’t resist the sarcasm, sorry.)

Here’s the thing. You could be Buddha post-nirvana and still have things that matter to you worth talking about. Having a good life is not the same thing as having no values. One student I worked with wrote about long walks she liked to take; another wrote about comic books. The point is to reflect on why these activities or hobbies or beliefs are meaningful to you. 

Reflect. Think. These are your key words. They’re also some of the most rewarding activities you’ll ever do, and I highly recommend making a habit of them.

anonymous asked:

Can you do the Craig Cahn ask? Thank you!

Craig Cahn: Tell us a fond memory you have with a friend

I have a lot of good memories with friends! i’ll pick a few for a few friends

Marissa: kicked me in the jaw while swimming. but it was super funny
Heaven (@mothtosh): I pushed them off a swing on accident…also we used to walk around town a lot after school
Ryan and Taylor: We went Pokemon hunting after Pokemon Go came out. and after we all caught this Jinx, we were hella hyped up
Kenna: We watched Finding dory and her and her twin sister were s o b b i ng
Toby (@obcasis): One summer I just hung out at his house almost every other day. 10/10 best summer
Dani (@thedumbdoodler): 100/10 best bro!! we met because I wore a Teamcrafted shirt in 7th grade lmao. there is so many good memories with this friend
Sam (@faysgalaxy): 110/10 BEST B R O. one time i went down a really steep hill on a scooter meant for children. and i fell, and Sam was their to witness me being a dumbass, also we spent like 4 or 5 New years together! usually at a hotel because swimming. the 2nd year we did that I hurt my leg and honestly it was funny
Ruby: a g o d s e n d. she helps me take of a group chat. during one Skype call her brother kept shouting memes and i was crying because i was laughing so hard
Jules (@lpscandy2002): My chi ld!! we watched ‘On The Spot’ once over Rabb.it and it was an amazing adventure
Mac (@macaroniandcheesesus): the light of my  li f e. the first time we met was over a skype call (thanks jules) and she had a bag of sour patch kids. we talked about random crap then im pretty sure i fell asleep

BASICALLY: i love all my friends and have zero clue how they put up with me. I miss of them and wish i could hug them. 

You Be The Anchor That Keeps My Feet On The Ground

Pair : Dean x Reader

Music : The One by Kodaline

Summary : Dean never thought he could be saved, until you walked in, and changed things. Old feelings came flooding back, as you both reminisce on old memories from the past. But whats a story without a little twist?

Warnings : light angst, cursing, Smut.

READ Part 2 Here - Part 3 Here - Part 4 Here - Part 5 Here

It was a long dreadful night for the Winchesters. A case that was suppose to be quick and easy, became a month long process.

Finally, it coming to an end, the boys decided on taking a small break.Dean and Sam decided on going to a bar, to drink their sorrows away.

Unfamiliar faces filled the room. Loud music echoed around as drunk slurs slipped through peoples mouths. It was something the boys were used too.

“Damn I’m exhausted.” Dean exhaled, motioning for the bartender.

Sam nodded, running his hands through his hair. Thats the thing with long cases, some times it takes a toll on them. More than just physical exhaustion, it emotionally draining. Having to watch innocent people die, not being able to save everyone, It broke them. But they learned to grow immune to it all, to be numb.

As the night carried on, As the alcohol streamed through their veins, and their minds were hazed, Their walls came tearing down.

“I dont know man, arent you tired of it all?” Sam muttered, taking another shot of whiskey. 

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “What I’m tired of is seeing everyone I love die, or walk away. I am tired of being reminded just how much I have lost. This life, there is no happy ending. There is no ‘Apple pie’ crap. We’ve seen too much, theres no walking away from this, which means theres no moving on. Its a constant roller coaster of bullshit that we were thrown into.” He grunted, reminiscing every case he has ever been on.

“But why do we have to suffer? What did we do to deserve this life?” Sam asked, his eyes blood shot. “Do you really think theres no happy ending for us?” 

“Nah, not for people like me. You, maybe. But me?” He shook his head, and looked down at his cup. staring at the bourbon swishing around. Dean may never admit to his brother just how much he wishes he were free from this life, but he knew it were only a dream.


You pulled the door open, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your head was filled with different emotions.

Walking toward the back of the bar, you heard familiar voices. Voices you haven’t heard in years. Snapping your head back, your eyes grew wide as they laid on the familiar faces. Dean and Sam.

“Dean?” You muttered. 

His lips escaped the cup as he locked his eyes with yours. You felt your breath hitch to the back of your throat, and your stomach churn.

You left the boys after Bobby died, the man who was like a father to you. And though you didn’t blame them for his death, you just couldnt be near them anymore, it tore you apart.

“Y/N.” He finally let out. His mouth dropped, staring at you as if he had just seen a ghost. 

Sam stumbled out of his chair, almost pulling you down along with him. Dean swiftly pulled his brother up, helping him stand on his two feet.

“Y/N! Wow, i can’t believe its you! I missed you so much.” Sam stammered, pulling you in close to his side. With Dean on the other side, you were inches away from his face. His green emerald eyes, gazing into yours, It was something you never thought you missed. 

Sam began to fall once more. “Ok, lets get you home.” Dean muttered, walking his brother out to the car.
You followed behind, helping the older Winchester.

“Thanks.” Dean exhaled, closing the door to the impala. 

You shrugged your shoulders and let out a soft chuckle. “Guess things don’t change after all.”

Deans lips curved up into a small smile, his plump lips taunting you.

“H-How’ve you been?” Dean muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You missed the boys without even realizing it. Years have come and gone and not once did you ever stop to wonder if they missed you.

“I been ok.” You smiled, though you knew you were lying through your teeth.

“You look good.” He exhaled, making the blood rush up to your cheeks.

Sam groaned, catching both yours and Deans attention.
The poor guy, blood pumped with poison running through his veins. He looked helpless.
“I better get him home.” Dean stammered. “But we should meet up tomorrow. I missed you.”

Those words created your stomach to flutter.

“That sounds great.” You exhaled.

Dean pulled you in for a quick, but tight embrace. Before escaping the parking lot, and vanishing into the night.

Leaving you alone to your thoughts.

Alone to ponder as old feelings crept up, and flooded you like a wave crashing into the rocks. Dean was the closest person in your life. He was your other half, your best friend. someone you could always count on. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him. But you always felt he never saw you that way.

Little did you know, Dean loved you since you were both 14 Years old.


“Her name is Y/N.” Bobby muttered. Motioning to the boys standing in front of you.

“Hi I’m Dean.” He reached his hand out toward you, and all you could think about was how beautiful his eyes were, almost breathtaking.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” He smiled. His voice was soothing, especially after seeing your parents die by a demon, something you thought never existed.

“H-hi.” You hesitated.

A shorter boy took a step forward, his hair was longer and lighter. 
“I’m Sam.” He smiled.

“Yea, my annoying little brother.” Dean huffed.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked back to the couch, where he sat and lost himself in a book.

“Do you like video games?” Dean muttered, catching your attention. 

You nodded and followed him into the living room.

Something about this made everything seem at ease. Maybe it was the way bobby watched over the boys, or the way they all acted as a family. 
No matter what it was, it made you feel safe. They made you feel safe…


The sun crept through the window as you waited at the table patiently for the boys to arrive. Your heart hammered as you grew anxious to see them, both sober and rested.

You heard the familiar roar from the impala, making you snap your head toward the sound. There he was, climbing out of the car. Looking handsome then ever. But he was alone. Sam was nowhere insight.

Your eyes followed Dean as he made his way into the Diner.
“Hey stranger.” He muttered, walking over to you.

His lips curved up and reached his arms out. You propped up on to your feet, and fell into his embrace. Breathing him in. 

“Hey.” You exhaled. “Wheres Sam?”

“Oh the guy was so hungover, he couldn’t even blink.” He chuckled.

Hearing his laugh was like music to your ears. You enjoyed seeing him that way, knowing at that moment he had no worries what so ever.

Dean pulled your chair out, motioning for you to sit.
“Thanks” You exhaled.

It’s been three years since the last time you talked to Dean. Nerves and adrenaline vibrated through you as you tried to seem calm.

But every time he stared intently at you, gently grazing his lower lip with his teeth, it made your stomach flutter.

His eyes were soft, never leaving yours. 

“What?” You laughed, heat leaving your body.

“I just never thought I’d see you again.” He stammered.

As a few hours rolled by, you and the older Winchester, talked for what seemed like forever. Reminiscing old memories, laughing about little things. It was like you never left. Picking up exactly where you left off.

“Remember that one night, we snuck out of Bobby’s, and went to the carnival that was going on the next town over?” He chuckled.

Your lips curved up as the images flooded your mind. Dean helped you climb down the roof, running through the night, stealing a car. It was thrilling.

“How could I forget!” You cackled. “I remember you were too scared to go on the Ferris wheel and the swings!”

“These rides are built over night. Of course I was scared!” He grunted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“I hear there’s a carnival not too far from here.” You smiled. “Want to go?”

Dean took in a deep breath. He loved spending every moment he can with you.

“Let’s do this.”


You haven’t gone out in a while. Mostly spent your days hunting, something Dean could relate too.

The small chatters, and laughter filled the air as you both walked through the park.

“Wow, it’s been years since I’ve been to one of these.” Dean muttered.

You gently stared at Dean, whose lips curved up and eyes crinkled as he gazed around. Lights hitting his face, it was like being 14 all over again.

Without realizing, Dean slipped his hand into yours. Carefully pulling, capturing your attention.
“Come on!” He croaked.

Running through the crowed, you and Dean made your way to the fun house.

“Oh no, I’m not going in there!” You stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.

The fun house always scared you, and you never understood the name, because it wasn’t ‘fun’ for you.

“Come on! It’s not that bad.” He grunted. Batting his emerald green eyes.

You felt a smile creep up on your face. “Fine, let’s make a deal. If I go in, then you have to-” you paused looking around, searching for a ride you knew Dean never would step foot on.
“You have to go on the Ferris wheel with me!” You squealed.

Dean glanced over the ride, then back to you. Shaking his head, he lower out a soft groan. “Fine.” He stammered. “Just this once.”


Walking into the fun house, you slid your hand into Deans. Squeezing tightly as your heart began to race. It was dark and mirrors surrounded you.

“I hate this.” You whispered.

You were oblivious to the situation, but Dean knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you would be terrified, which meant you would hold on to him, pulling him in close.

“Its not that bad.” He chuckled.

The older Winchester, clasped his hand into your side and growled, making you jump in your stance.

“Fuck you Winchester!” You yelped, as Dean laughed into the air.

You chuckled along, feeling yourself lighten up from being so tense.

You missed this. Spending time with Dean, laughing for hours on end. It was natural. As if you two were always meant to be together. Soul mates.

Finally escaping the fun house, you and Dean still starched to each other, you were excited to finally go on the Ferris wheel with Dean.

“Ready?” You exhaled.

Dean took in a deep breath and swallowed hard.

Taking your seats, watching the workers clasp the bar over your laps, you heard soft groans escaping dean.

“Don’t worry Dean, nothing is going to happen to you.” You smiled, his face softened as the words echoed around his head.

He felt safe, secure. In this very moment, he knew he couldn’t let you walk away again.

“I’m glad we ran into each other again.” He stated. “I missed you.”

You felt your stomach flutter and your heart begin to pick up. “I missed you too.”

The ride began to move, feeling yourselves lift up off the ground. His hand grazed over yours, causing goosebumps to form all over you. 

“I mean it Y/N.” Dean exhaled. “It wasn’t the same after you left. I missed my best friend. I needed you. I felt like something was missing, but now-” He paused, looking into your eyes. “Now I feel whole again. Because even when everything goes to crap, all i have to do is look at your face and I’ll know that everything will be okay. I’m not letting you go again. I cant.”

Before you could speak, Dean pulled his lips to yours, tasting him, feeling his tongue graze against yours.

There was something about that moment, that paused time. As if everything around you, stood still.


Making your way to the bunker, Dean carried you effortlessly through the halls. His lips never parting from yours. It felt surreal. 

Gently laying you on to his bed, You both stripped from your clothes. His body against yours creating a sensation to vibrate through you. He kissed your neck, feeling him travel along your torso, down to your already drenched flower. 

Soft moans escaped your lips, as Dean pushed himself through. Breaking entrance, gliding himself inside. Your walls surrounded him, making him want you even more.

Dean laid over you, grunting as he pushes himself in and out of you. Making you arch your back and dig your nails into his back. 

“Fuck.” He grunted. 

Pumping faster, moans and whimpers fill the air. Different emotions flooded your mind. Old feelings and even new ones all coming out all at once. 

The older Winchester tangled his hand into your hair, gently pulling making you scream with pleasure. 

Hearing you moan, made Dean come close to his peak. Pounding himself into you, You gasped for air as your mind went blank and your juices flooded Dean. 

“That was so hot.” Dean whispered, falling into you pushing himself deeper inside. 

His breathing became heavy, and you swore your heart felt like it were about to jump out of your chest. 

Dean tilted his head back, groaning as he let himself go inside of you. 

He rolled over, laughing as he landed on his back. His eyes were closed, but his smile never left his face. 

You turned to face him, tracing your finger tips over his jaw line. Savoring every moment you have with him. You loved the way he looked at you, the way he lingered as if it were his last time. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, the words causing your stomach to flutter, as tears filled your eyes. 

Since the day you met him, you’ve dreamed about him telling you just that. Wishing he would be in love with you the way you loved him. 

You pulled his face to yours, crashing your lips. Inhaling him, your tongue dancing along his. 

Dean pulled you in, cradling his head in the nook of your neck. You stared at the ceiling, feeling as if you belong. As if you finally found yourself. 

Slowly, you both fell into complete slumber, breathing became in sync as the night fell into morning. 


Dean’s eyes fluttered open, yawning the sleep away. Images of yesterday, played in his head like a movie. 

He rolled over, feigning for your touch. But you were nowhere in sight. He shot up, looking around wondering where you were. 

“Y/N?” he croaked. 

Dean grew worried, confused at why you left. His stomach churned, and heat escaped his body. 

“What the hell?” 

He looked back at the side of the bed, where the pillow still had your scent stitched into it. A small paper laid over the edge, capturing Deans attention. 

Dean...” He began to read.

dead like me - part five

title: dead like me
summary: AU. he has more life in him than all the boys she’s ever dated.
pairing: sasusaku
listening to: cathy cavadini - dreams to dream
note: this chapter is my favorite. enjoy the feels.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six


Sakura can appreciate of the irony of watching a movie about a zombie apocalypse while sitting next to a real zombie. Or rather, someone who is merely undead, because Sasuke is adamant that he is not like normal zombies, who enjoy humans as delicious gory snacks.

Given that he has yet to lunge for her jugular, Sakura has decided that she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and hope that he doesn’t have some kind of inhuman (or inzombie) self-control.

Of course, sitting next to him is still incredibly distracting, but it’s not because of thoughts of his diet orientation. Ino is sitting close enough to push Sakura against him, something she’s sure the nosy blonde is doing in purpose. Not that her indignation is doing anything to dampen the electric tingles that are racing through the arm that is pressed up against his.

She has to keep reminding herself that he is dead, but the thought is like air between her fingers, slipping away before she can catch hold of it.

Every once in a while he’ll glance away from the movie (which he grimaces at often) to catch her gaze, and instead of flinching away, he holds her eyes with his in a regard that steals her breath away and robs her of thought.

After a moment, he leans in and murmurs in a low voice, “You still need to breathe, even if I don’t.”

Sakura flushes fiercely, determinedly turning back to the screen and ignoring him. The blush creeps up the back of her neck though, and it does nothing for the erratic thumping of her heart when he subtly brushes his fingers against hers.

By the time the movie is over, Sakura doesn’t remember a moment of it, and one look at her roommate’s face tells her that Ino knows this. She stands, yawning and stretching in the most obnoxiously obvious manner, grinning slyly at the two of them still on the couch.

“Alright, you two, go on and get a room already. But keep it down, will ya, I’m going to bed.”

And before Sakura can reply with a scathing retort, she has flounced away to her bedroom. Scowling, Sakura remains in her seat, trying to decide how to deal with her best friend. Her eyes are caught by Sasuke’s movement as he stands, holding a hand out to her.

She’s reluctant to take it, but only because she’ll have to eventually let go. But he continues to hold her hand after she’s risen, brushing his thumb over her kuckles. She shivers.

“Do you want to take me back now?” he asks softly.

Sakura stares at him, frozen. Does she want to? Not really. He’d be all alone with just the cold marble reminders of his dead family, but maybe he that’s what he wants. Or maybe something bad will happen if he stays away from his gravemarker and the cemetary for too long. Her insides clench at the thought. But still, she has to ask.

“Do you want to stay?” she whispers, her whole body rigid with terror that the answer will be no.

His expression doesn’t change, but he moves closer to her, releasing her hand so that he might cup her face just beneath her jawline with both hands and rest his forehead against hers. Slowly, he nods.

Her breath, held like a million trapped butterflies, releases in a rush of relief, and he manages to coax his facial muscles into a small smile as he feels her puff of breath against his lips.

“Okay then, she whispers shakily.


Once inside her room, Sakura is at a loss. Standing in front of her bed, she takes a deep breath and turns back to face Sasuke. She’d completely forgotten that he doesn’t sleep.

“Um…won’t you be bored?”

His shoulders raise slightly in a shrug. “I’ve been dead for a long time. There’s nothing to do but think and try to remember your life. And after a while, you lose that too.”

Seeing her stricken face, he adds, “But it doesn’t seem to matter as much since I met you.”

Sakura flushes scarlet, her face glowing in the dim light. Somehow she is always rendered speechless by him, and she flashes him a nervous smile as she climbs beneath the covers and turns off the light beside her bed.

Sasuke leans back against the edge of her window, his eerie and unwavering gaze lost somewhere outside in the growing darkness. The moon, waning overhead, highlights all the shadows in the hollows of his body. He is a haunting sight, a relic of a bygone era dressed in modern day clothes and faded light.

Sakura tries not to think about her next words too much, it’s become a habit around him. “You can…lay down with me if you want.”

Muted crimson eyes are drawn to her, slowly turning away from whatever thoughts haunt him, and Sakura feels as though she’s been pierced clean through.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

She nods, not trusting herself to speak. She puts more faith in him than she does herself when she can’t even control her shaking hands, clenched beneath the covers. Her eyes follow him as he hobbles to the other side of the bed, stiffly lowering himself next to her.

As he lays atop the covers, she swears his chest moves with the memory of a deep breath, rather than the actual act itself. He turns to her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t remember the last time I’ve been in a bed that wasn’t a grave.”

A wild giggle escapes her, and she quickly clamps her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was so inappropriate.”

He shakes his head, his smile flattening to a gentle smirk. “Don’t be. I like the way you laugh.”

There he goes again, saying things that make her heart stop. Turning onto her stomach, she buries her face into the pillow and tries to swallow deep breaths to calm herself down.

“What are you doing?”

Sakura lifts her messy pink head to peek up at him through one eye. “Trying to disappear?”

His smile fades. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

She raises herself up onto her elbows to look at his face. “Why not?”

He has the unnerving habit of being able to look directly into her eyes without flinching as he tells her, “Because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I died.”

Sakura scoffs, trying to deflect the malestrom of emotions swirling inside her. “They invented the internet since you died. I’m pretty sure that tops me.”

“The what?”

She shakes her head drops her face back to the pillow. “I’m nobody,” her muffled voice emerges from the fabric.

“You’re everything,” he whispers.

She freezes, her fingers clutching the blankets hard. She says nothing, but hot tears leak into her pillow where he can’t see them as her chest rises and falls rapidly.

There is a heavy silence between them as his words hang in the air.

Then, slowly, she rolls on her side facing away from him. The little spark of life that’s left inside of him almost dies, until she scoots back against him, her back pressed against his side. Hesitantly, he turns so that he lays flush against her, tentatively bringing his arm to rest over her in a half-embrace.

Her hand finds his in the dark and squeezes, and Sasuke can feel the warmth from her body leaking into his. And though he knows differently, he’d swear his heart is beating as hard as hers.


It’s hours later in the dead of night, after the moon has begun its long treck to the horizon, when she asks.

“Tell me about your family.”

It’s barely a whisper, but she hasn’t slept. His fingers laced between hers anchor her to consciousness, and the weight of his arm across her and his body at her back leave every nerve ending in her body awake and aware, even as her heavy eyelids beg to close.

He doesn’t answer for a long time, and she begins to wonder if he heard her. But he shifts slightly against her to press his forehead against the back of her neck, and she knows he is remembering.

“Your laugh…reminds me a lot of my mother,” he begins softly, and Sakura knows this is one conversation that her eyes won’t stay dry for.

“She was always happy, and she had the kindest eyes. She had a fondness for cats, I remember…there was this small black one that used to live under the porch, and she would always leave it food. It was our little secret, she said, because my father would have made us get rid of it.”

His voice is hollow, as if he were reciting things he’s told himself a thousand times to keep himself from forgetting. Sakura’s heart aches at the thought.

“My father…,” his grip on her hand tightens, “My father owned a factory in town. When my brother and I were old enough, we went to work for him. He had a business partner, I don’t remember his name, but I didn’t like him.”

Sasuke pauses, trying to bridge gaps in his memory. “He was very strict, and frugal. But he liked appearances. And even though he could be cold, he loved my mother.”

He falls silent again, remembering. Sakura tries to picture what his parents might have looked like. Tall with dark hair, of a certainty. She entertains the thought of Sasuke having his mother’s smile.

“What about your brother?” she prods gently.

He takes so long to answer that she wonders if it was wrong of her to ask.

“I miss him,” he rasps, and there is emotion and agony in his voice for the first time.

His arm around her tightens, as if he is desperate for human contact, and Sakura can’t help the tears that leave scorching trails down her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers helplessly, wishing that she hadn’t brought it up, wanting only to take away his pain.

He says nothing else and she doesn’t ask, holding onto his hand with the desperate wish that pain transferred through osmosis. She would gladly take it all on herself if it would give him peace.

Her energy gone, Sakura glances tiredly at the digital alarm clock next to her bed. 4.am. At least today is Saturday. Just as her eyelids flutter shut and sleep begins to take hold, she hears Sasuke’s quiet whisper behind her.

“I can’t remember how they died.”

Sakura cranes her neck to face him. “You did say there were memories that had deteriorated. Though that does seem like something you would remember no matter what.”

He shakes his head, his soft bangs brushing against her neck. “No, I mean I can’t. My memories of my life are fuzzy and faded around the edges, but they’re still there. When I try to remember how I died, there’s just nothing at all. Like it never happened.”

Sakura frowns, not liking the sound of that. “Well, I’m sure there are records of your family in the town’s historical archives somewhere. We can look tomorrow, it should definitely say something about how you died.”

He nods in relief, and she settles back down against him and yawns. “I do need to sleep now though. G'night, Sasuke…”

Her voice trails off into slumber, and as she falls asleep in his arms, Sasuke is grateful for the first time in his unlife that he died.

Amortentia: Chapter Four

Fic Request: 

  • Harry potter AU
  • can we have stiles and Lydia hating each other but then eventually becoming attracted towards each other

Description: Stiles and Lydia join forces at the Yule Ball.

Rating: K

Genre: AU, Fluff, Angst, Action, Comfort

Author: cinemariel

[Prev. Chapters]

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His Secrets

Summary: Phil had two secrets. 1)He was gifted with two powers, unlike everyone else in his school  2) He fancied the boy named Dan Howell in History class. With the power of moving elements, Phil decided to make the bottle point to his crush when playing 7 minutes in heaven, earning a huge surprise. 

Genre: AU, fluff 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3394

A/N: i came up with this fic idea like two weeks ago but i had to go to beijing. (they have no tumblr there. it was tough.) but now i can finally post this fic. btw english is my second language so there might be a few grammar mistakes. hope u all have an amazing day! 

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Here is my contribution to Natsu Appreciation Day :)

Natsu is my absolutely favorite character in all of Fairy Tail. He’s strong, smart, funny, loyal, brave, and so much more. He deserves so much more than one day, and I hope my fic proves that :) enjoy!

Natsu kicked a lose stone on his way home. No one wanted to go on a mission today. He was all fired up this morning and ready to go beat up some bad guys, but everyone was busy.

The moment he walked into the guild Gray had run off saying he had errands to do and he wanted to leave before Juvia saw him. Juvia left right after him, following him.

Erza he didn’t bother, she ws eating her cake and “I’m not thinking about Jellal” face on.

Wendy and Carla had gone a mini-mission with Happy in town, the little traitor.

Levy was talking in some weird language to Lily, and Gajeel was pretending to understand. He growled at Natsu when he got close.

Laxus ignored his rants about fighting. The Thunder Legion followed his lead.

Master Makarov told him to go alone, but that was no fun.

Gildarts had left on some mission a while back.

Mira, Lisanna, and Elfman were busy behind the bar. Mira shooed him away when he asked what.

The rest of the guild ignored him. Cana tried to get him to drink with her, but the last time he did that he woke up with everyone angry at him.

So he left, face buried in his scarf to hide his frown. He decided to go to Lucy’s, she always cheered him up.

Grinning, he jumped up to her always open window and landed on her bed.

“YO LUCY!” he hopped to the floor and looked around, “LET’S GO ON A MISSION!”

But the apartment was quiet, no screams of ‘GET OUT’. No wails of 'QUIT BARGING IN’ or 'COME IN THROUGH THE DOOR’.

She wasn’t home.

“Man,” he raised one hand to hold his scarf, sitting on her soft bed, “guess I’ll just wait.”

He laid down on the pink bed and tried to sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares of him being left alone again and again.

Sitting up in a cold sweat, he covered his eyes with his scarf. Wiping his face, he turned around and fell into Lucy’s pillow, allowing her familiar scent to lure him into a calm state.

He heard a crinkling sound as he buried himself deeper in the fluffy pillow.

“What’s this?” he held up a letter with his name on it.

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Demon Luke Part 8

AN So here’s part 8 of Demon Luke as promised. I don’t know if I’ll get to all the ships tonight, but I can sure as hell try. I hope I made this easy to understand. I put my own little twist on things, so no it’s not going to be accurate to the Christian religion or any religion, just the ideas of angels and demons basically. If I offend anyone, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it  :) I hope you guys enjoy this shift in the story and let me know how soon you’re ready for a part 9 (don’t forget this is only going as high as ten)

Second Person

“Luke. Y/N. I’m God. Welcome to Heaven.” Of course, it wasn’t really God that was saying these words. More like the voice of God. God didn’t have a physical entity. God was everywhere. But there had to be something to voice His teachings. And that was The Voice. The Voice of God is a booming, low-note, voice with a hint of an accent. Not a definite one, but kind of like a mixture of all the accents in one. A complicated one to understand if you’re so used to hearing Australian accents all the time like you and Luke.

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anonymous asked:

prompt? Emma goes to see Regina right after she talks to her parents. post 3x12.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Emma asked, her eyes still stuck on the massive protrusion at her mother’s midsection. “Nothing at all from the last year?”

“Nothing,” Mary Margaret confirmed. “One moment, we were watching you drive over the town line with Henry, and then everything went black, and the next moment, we were waking up in Storybrooke again.”

David nodded beside his wife. “We don’t even know if we ever actually left,” he added.

Emma let out a heavy, staggered breath as she ran a hand through her hair. This all just felt like too much in the moment. Her head was a mess of conflict—stirrings of feelings about her parents’ baby-to-be that she didn’t want to contemplate, anxiety on how to help Henry remember or how to explain, battling to separate her real memories from her fabricated ones.

A soft gasp escaped her then as realization struck hard and deep, and her head snapped up, eyes going wide for only a moment before softening. 

“Emma?” Mary Margaret asked, her face scrunched with worry. She waddled forward and placed a hand on her daughter’s arm. “What is it?”

Emma’s eyes turned watery in that moment against her will, a whirlwind of emotion ripping through her body and urging her to go. “I’ve got to go,” she whispered.

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I Almost Do - Chapter 9 (Final chapter!)

Pairing: Captain Swan

Summary: Emma and Henry say goodbye to their friends and family and escape Storybrooke as Regina’s magic defeats Pan’s curse and sends everyone back to the Enchanted Forest. Or at least that was what was supposed to happen, but when Emma wakes up the next morning, she discovers that something went very wrong with the plan.

Author’s Note: This is it, guys - last chapter! Thank you so much for all of your support and wonderful feedback on this story. It was a blast to write and I already miss it. Thank you again for all the likes and reblogs and reviews. You’re the best. 

(PS: You can find the Outlaw Queen companion story here

Read here or from the beginning at AO3 or FFN


Emma figured it would be best to start with her parents – mostly because she wanted to see them and more importantly, because they wouldn’t yell at her for accidentally cursing them to forget their identities. But as they drove toward the loft, they passed several cars turning onto Main Street at rather high speeds. She glanced sideways at Killian and his arched eyebrow confirmed that they needed to make a detour.

She steered the bug into the line of cars and wasn’t surprised to see they all appeared to be heading for Town Hall. The parking lot already overflowed with cars and people and the latest arrivals seemed content to park haphazardly, some on the grass and some just left their cars in the street in their haste to join the crowd pushing inside the building. Emma swung her car into the fire lane and put it in park while Killian muttered under his breath about the code violations being broken.

“Bloody hell, Swan.” Killian stepped out of the car and closed the door, his eyes on her as she moved around the car to join him on the sidewalk. “Why do I retain this useless information about vehicle regulations?”

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"Amnesia" – 5SOS Preference

A S H T O N:  You stood there in the doorway, watching him where he sat. He had something in his hands, twisting it around absentmindedly in his long, slender fingers. Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, he looked up, meeting your gaze with his saddened eyes. It was like someone had drained every ounce of color from them, stealing the warm golden flecks from within, and instead had replaced it with anguish. He stood up slowly, shuffling his feet with every step he took across the living room carpet. He stopped only inches in front of you, eyes now trained to his feet while clearing his throat, almost as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. ”Found this,” he mumbled out, keeping his voice quiet as he held something out to you, “thought you might want it back.” Prying your gaze from his face you followed the faint sound of rustling beads as Ashton toyed with the bracelet held tight in his grasp. You reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing against his slightly cracked knuckles. The feeling of his skin on yours was like fire, and it elicited a meek gasp to escape from your lips. It was astounding, the amount of memories a single, minute touch could ignite in your brain. It brought with it a tidal wave of emotions, and you knew Ashton must have felt it too. Letting his fingers wrap loosely around yours as the piece of jewelry was shifted from his hand to your own, you felt his thumb stroke the back of your hand like he’d done a million times before. He finally allowed himself the strength to look into your eyes, a knot suddenly twisting itself into your belly as he did so. All it took was one look. Just one touch, and you could feel yourself becoming putty for him all over again. He’d always had a hold on you. The strongest being the hold he kept on your heart. You could still remember telling him this, the day you gave him that simple bracelet. Leaning into one another, you spoke softly, “please, lets just forget about the stupid little things. None of that matters now. This is all that matters– you, and me, and this moment right here. “I love you, Ash.” Flashing back from the memory, the two of you looked at each other one last time as Ash let his hands slip away from yours. Now, here he was, not only returning a silly accessory, but with it his piece of your heart. “I don’t want it back, Ash,” you spoke quietly, “I want you back.”

C A L U M:  The sound of boiling water mixed with the smell of cooking pasta as it filled the spacious kitchen. Forgetting all about the meal he was cooking, Calum found himself sitting on the cool tiled floor. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but whenever he made spaghetti for dinner he ended up scrolling through all of the old photos he kept of the two of you, easily getting swept in the memories you’d shared. Everyone had told him to delete the photos after the breakup, saying how painful it would be to have that constant reminder of the past. But somehow, he always felt better knowing there was proof of a time when things were good; a time when you were his. As his thumb scrolls along the glossy screen of his iPhone he can’t help the pang in his heart when he stumbles across his favorite old picture of the two of you. Your hair is falling down your back as you smile into his kisses. The corners of your perfectly pink lips are turned up at the corners, and your hands are threaded around his back where you cling to his faded band tee like your life depends on holding onto him. The longer he looks at the beautiful memory he holds in his hands, the more he swears he can still feel your familiar lips against his. Your lips were always his favorite feature on your sweet face– so soft, and smooth, just begging to be touched by his own. His mind was aimlessly wandering to the night that picture was taken. Wandering to the last night before you broke his heart. “A part of me will always love you, Cal. But right now, the pain of missing you just hurts too much.” Shaking his head to clear the bitter thoughts, he tries his hardest to subside the need he feels to dial your number. His fingers move faster than his brain, and before he can register his own actions your soft voice breaks through the receiving end. “Cal?” you ask, “are you– is everything alright?” He finds himself smiling into the phone, that sweetness he misses everyday can be heard in your tone of voice, and he can’t help the words that come tumbling out of his mouth. “I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so much. And I know I have no right to say this to you now, after all this time, but… I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”

M I C H A E L: Met with the soft sounds of music, you soon found Michael sitting on the hood of his car with his guitar resting in his lap. Strumming away, he played his songs for the empty street in front of him, lost in his own little world. You stood a few paces back, just listening to the familiar sound, and debating on whether or not to interrupt him. The longer you stood there, the more you came to realize just how long it had been since the two of you had spent any time together, just the two of you. It felt like a lifetime had passed. A lifetime of old memories shared, and a lifetime of longing, and hurt before slowly you started to feel like yourself again. You’d spent so much time being Mike’s girlfriend that the wounds of your breakup had taken ages to heal. That night flashed through your subconscious, “I can’t keep living like this, Michael. Always coming in second to the band,” you whispered. “Then I guess we should just break up.” Those final words had cut deep, but finally a callous had formed over your broken heart, and you’d found a way to forgive all that had happened between you. Startling you from your thoughts, you heard Michael clear his throat. “Stalking me now, are we?” he chuckled, lazily plucking a few of the steel strings between his fingertips while smirking at you. “Ha Ha,” you joked, rolling your eyes before hoisting yourself onto the car beside him. A silence fell over the pair of you, but somehow it didn’t feel awkward in the least. It just felt, normal. Then Michael spoke quietly, and asked you, “do you remember that day, that we all went to the mini mart in town, and messed around in all the shopping carts in the car park?” He laughed as he thought back to the memory, but he kept his eyes trained on his hands where they held onto his guitar. “Why were you thinking about that?” you countered, staring at the side of his face, and noticing the substantial amount of scruff taking up residence along his jaw. He shrugged in answer, “dunno… I guess cuz that was our last good day together. Like, after that all we ever did was fight, and I guess I miss the good times with you.” As his eyes finally met yours, you could see the flood of memories as they passed through his mind. “But, we’re friends now, so we’ll just have to make new good times,” you said quietly, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess,” he eventually mumbled, pausing before saying, “but that doesn’t make me miss you any less.”

L U K E:  He watched the way your head fell back in laughter, happiness radiating from every part of you as you caught up with the rest of his band-mates. He took another swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving your face. It surprised him how much being around you was affecting him. Not even the buzz of alcohol seeming to ease his nostalgia tonight. It wasn’t like missing you was a new occurrence for him. It’s just that usually he could find some way of turning the feelings off for a while. Tonight was different though. Maybe it was the amount of time that had passed since the last time he’d seen you that was magnifying every feeling. Almost like he’d forgotten what you looked like in a pair of jeans, or what your voice sounded like. No matter how he tried to rationalize it in his head, there was just something about the mix of alcohol, and the sound of laughter falling from your glossy lips that was too much for him to handle. Getting up without a word to anyone, he silently left the room in search of a quiet place to clear his head. You followed his movements with a curious glance, and decided now was as good a time as any to talk to him. Although the thought of being in the same room as him, alone, made your stomach feel uneasy, you traipsed after him. “Hey, there you are,” you hummed softly, leaning against the doorframe that led upstairs, “whatcha doing all alone?” He forced a friendly smile, but you knew him well enough to know when something was weighing on his mind. Squeezing in beside him on the narrow steps, you stole a glance at his face. He continued to fiddle with the glass bottle in his hands, rolling it back and forth between his long fingers, instead of looking at you. He wanted to speak, but nothing was making sense inside his brain tonight. Then, as if of its own accord, he opened his mouth and words came spilling out. “I can still remember the day you told me you were leaving,” he whispered, clearing his throat of emotion. “Luke, don’t I–” but he stopped you as his hand came to cup your cheek, holding it as if your skin were made of porcelain. “I remember the makeup running down your face when you said goodbye,” he murmured, stroking your cheek, “and I swore my heart might actually break into pieces as I watched you walk out the door that day.” You thought back, picturing that moment in your mind perfectly. “I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, tears blurring your vision as you gripped the door handle. “Y/N, please… don’t go,” Luke begged. Pulling yourself back to reality, you saw the hurt reflected in his eyes just as you still felt in your heart everyday. Without another thought, you crashed your lips urgently to Luke’s.      

Sam Wilkinson: Boyfriend/Girlfriend Tag

Sam set up the camera and then sat back down on the couch next to me. “Hello, guys!” He said, smiling at the camera, “I’m here with a very special guest, my amazing girlfriend, Y/N!” I waved at the camera. “Hi, guys!” I said with a smile on my face. “Okay, so today we’re going to be doing the boyfriend/girlfriend tag thing. But we wanted to make it more personal, so we asked you guys to ask us the questions using the hashtag #samandy/n” Sam said. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the hashtag until he found a question he liked. “Okay, first question. Where did we meet?” He asked me. “That’s so easy. You were in town for digitour and you and the jacks went to the brew where my best friend works and I was there with her and you spilled your coffee all over me.” I said, glaring at him. Sam started laughing at the memory. “It’s not funny! That was my favorite shirt and you never replaced it like you said you would!” I said, trying to hold back my laughter. Sam calmed down his laughing and handed me his phone. “Okay, okay. Your turn.” He said once he had calmed down. I scrolled through the questions until I found one I liked. “What’s my favorite movie?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow. Sam let out a huge breath and began to think. “Oh! Gladiator!” He said, after a few seconds of thinking. “Correct, your turn.” I said while handing him the phone. He scrolled through and started laughing when he found a question. Oh lord, this should be good. “Worst advice I ever gave you?” He asked, while giggling. I began to laugh. “Self tanner looks totally natural!” I said, laughing. He fell back on his back and held his stomach while he laughed. “I stupidly listened to him and used self tanner to look more tan in my senior pictures cause I’m always so pale and it turned me orange!” I said. Sam laughed even harder after I told the story and he fell off the couch. I helped him back onto the couch. “Okay, my turn” I said and took the phone from him. My smile faded when I saw a fan ask “why are you even with y/n? She’s so ugly…” I felt tears form in my eyes. Sam read the comment over my shoulder and clenched his jaw. He grabbed the phone from me. “I’ll tell you what, whoever sent in this question can rot in hell for all I care. Y/N is the most beautiful and amazing person I have ever met. There’s never a dull moment with her. She’s so funny and sarcastic and silly and I just… I’m in love with her. I’m so in love with her that it doesn’t even bother me when the other boys call me whipped. Because I am. I will do anything for her because she means the world to me. Her happiness is the most important thing in the world to me. And if anyone tries to make her upset in anyway, then you disgust me. And I will block you in an instant.” Sam said. I stared at him in disbelief that he had just said all of that. “I love you.” I said to him. He turned to face me and smiled back. “I love you more.” He said. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. “We’re done now.” He said to the camera and then turned it off.

Want an imagine or ship? Just ask!
Ship: name, height, age, what you look like and a little about yourself
Imagine: boy and what you want to happen

Chocolat, Chapter 3 (3/3)

killihan-jones, here’s the final part of your gift!

You can thank zengoalie for going into this with a clinical eye and making me pour my heart and soul into it.

Part I
Part II


Emma sighed as she walked by the shop.  The lights were still out, the Closed sign on the door marking yet another day without chocolate in Storybrooke. Another day without seeing him.

It’s been almost a week since she left him on the boat, the rain pouring down on her as fast as her tears, The next day, the shop was closed. And the next day. And the next.

Henry had been the first in calling her out on it.

“What did you say to him?”

“This doesn’t concern you, Henry!”

“He really likes you, mom…”

“Henry, you are too young to understand…” She said but the sadness in her son’s eyes stopped her.

“Not every guy is like my dad. Not every guy is going to leave us.” He said slowly.

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