what comes up must come down

Truth or Truth

Requested anonymously: A one shot where the reader has never been able to orgasm through masturbation. When Dean finds out, he offers to help.

Warning: smut, masturbation

Word Count: 2300

A/N: Hope you enjoy, anon! XOXO

“Truth or truth?” Dean asks, grinning a little sideways in that way that lets you know he’s just the right amount of drunk.

Truth or truth is the game you play when you’re both feeling a little wound up, needing to blow off some steam. You’re too old for stupid dares and too nervous for dares that might actually make you touch each other, so you settle for sticking to truths. It never amounts to anything, but you both enjoy the sexy words said in the dark as you lie together on one bed, a bottle being passed between you, like you have a life and a personality outside of monsters.

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Got7's Favorite Part Of You

Issa me! This happens to be my first piece of writing on this dear app, so I hope it isn’t too terrible. I hope you enjoy whatever this is weird block of words is. Feedback is appreciated! *inserts smiley face* —————————————————–


Your thighs. They literally fascinate him. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing he always finds a way to touch your thighs. When your kissing his favorite thing is when you wrap your legs around him and he can feel your thighs as much as he likes. He’s in love with them and isn’t afraid to tell you just that.


Your lips. He loves how your lips seem to mold together perfectly with his. He loves the feel of them, how soft they are, and he especially loves how your kisses can turn from delicate and sweet to rough and lust-filled in no time at all. To him, the best thing ever is to be able to come home and know that those lips are all his.


Your neck. You wouldn’t even have to guess you’ll know this is his favorite place on you without a doubt. Any chance he gets he is kissing, biting, and licking your neck. He loves how you seem to unravel underneath him when he places lingering kisses from your earlobe to your collarbone. It is the perfect stress reliever for him and you definitely don’t mind letting him kiss you all up and down.


Your eyes. He is constantly mesmerized when it comes to your eyes. He can stare at them all day and never get tired. He can always tell what you’re thinking or how you’re you’re feeling just by looking at your eyes. They’re his favorite thing about you and whenever he looks into your eyes he feels at home.


Your nose. He finds everything about your nose utterly adorable and he’s always talking about it. From the shape to the size of it it’s his favorite. Eskimo kisses are a must when it comes of him.


Yo booty. It doesn’t matter how big or small your butt is he will be in love with it. Whenever you guys are chilling in bed he’ll either grab your butt (just because), or, if the position allows he’ll lay his head on your butt. He’s a fool so best and believe when things get heated he will be all up, in, and around it.


Your hands. He’s a smol bean and holding your hand is his favorite thing in the world and your hands fit together perfectly, which makes it even better. He loves playing with your fingers and it’s extremely endearing to you when he talks about something that interests him and he starts playing with your fingers, eyes lit up. To him, just holding your hand and knowing that you’re there, supporting him, is the best thing ever.

Originally posted by alvarez432

John wakes and feels tears on his face. His heart is pounding but he doesn’t quite know why- he can’t remember the specifics of the nightmare, he can only remember the vague feeling of running, of danger coming and him being unable to stop it.

He briefly wonders if this is the only reason he has woken but then he hears Rosie’s cries through the baby monitor. Sherlock stirs next to him and makes a deep “Hmmm?” noise, hovering between deep sleep and the beginnings of waking up.

John quickly reaches across and turns the baby monitor off. It’s not fair, it’s not fair on Sherlock.

He slips out of bed and goes to her. She is red faced with crying, little hands making little stubborn fists. John picks her up and she squirms. “Come on, Rosie, it’s okay,” he whispers, but he knows he doesn’t sound at all convincing. Pathetic.

She’s still hiccuping with the force of her tiny cries. John doesn’t know what to do. He carries her through to the living room, stands in front of his arm chair and tries to rock her.

But he knows nothing he’s doing is working- he can’t even soothe her with words now, his breathing is still all shallow and wrong, and she’s picking up on that, she can feel his chest heaving and John knows, God he knows, he’s just making everything worse, like al-

He feels Rosie being taken out of his arms. John inhales and gasps before noticing- it’s Sherlock, of course, standing in front of him. Beautiful, warm and safe and sleepy Sherlock.

“John,” Sherlock says. He tucks Rosie into his exposed shoulder, cupping her head gently with his hand. “John, it’s alright. Sit down.”

John feels like he can’t breathe. “John,” Sherlock repeats. His voice is soft and low and so incredibly thoughtful. “You can sit down, it’s okay.”

John doesn’t so much as sit down as collapse into his chair. Sherlock walks away with Rosie and John can hear him soothing her in the distance: “Hush, now. I know, I know, enough of that now, my darling girl. Hush. Hush. Ssh…”

John keeps breathing. He doesn’t know how much time passes, he’s only aware of Sherlock suddenly crouching down in front of him.

“That’s her drifted off again,” Sherlock says. His smile is so wide and genuine that the guilt pierces John all the more.

“Christ, I’m-Sher-I’m sorry. I just seem to m-make things worse.”

Sherlock shakes his head. Patient. God, how John loves him. “You know that’s not true, John. Besides-” He starts to grin a little- “- you got her the last two nights before I even woke up. It was my turn.”

John tries to laugh, but his breathing still feels all strange and wrong. Sherlock stands up. “Do you want- I could make some tea? Or water?”

“N-no. It’s okay, Sherlock, you go back to bed. I’ll just sit here, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

John closes his eyes, breathes in and out. He hears Sherlock’s footsteps fade away. Good. The man needs his rest.

But then, then come the oh so quiet notes of Sherlock’s violin. John opens his eyes and smiles. Sherlock is standing by the window, looking out into the night. He plays slowly and carefully, and John focusses on his breathing, relishing it becoming deep and even.

By the time John realises exactly what Sherlock is doing, he’s almost nodded off. The notes are soft and so slow, and John allows himself to follow them and…and he doesn’t know when his eyes were getting too heavy, but…and have they closed?…yes, he supposes they must…and his head, he can feel it moving forward down to his chest, and that’s fine…that’s…

A hand on his knee. John’s head slowly comes back up, his eyes open just enough to see Sherlock looking at him with the fondest smile.

“Come on, my good man, to bed with you,” he says.

John nods. It sounds like the best idea Sherlock’s ever had. He follows Sherlock as if wallowing through a heavy cloud- not inconvenient, it’s just everything seems so…slow…

He feels sleep pulling, he’s ready to be pulled under. He turns to Sherlock, half surprised that they’re back in bed. “Mmm, thanks Sher-” He yawns and Sherlock pulls him close, and John can’t keep his eyes open any longer. “Love you,” he manages.

He feels Sherlock press a kiss to his hair. He’s sinking down, down into the bed, his body so wonderfully heavy…

“Hush, now,” Sherlock says. “I love you, too.”

And John finally lets himself sleep.

anonymous asked:

Hey here's an idea for a drabble how about the whole gang goes out to Rita's or something and Elain gets super drunk and Az has to take care of her?

[This is probably not what you had in mind. LOL. I apologize for nothing.]

Elain Archeron is a light weight. If you looked up the definition in the dictionary, you’d find her picture. One beer and she is toasty and warm and giggling.

She’s sitting between Feyre and Azriel in a booth at Rita’s, telling them about the birds and the bees. The literal birds and bees in her garden. Then she starts talking about Graysen. She’s long been over him, but since they’re talking about the garden…

“He touched me in the garden once,” she says. Feyre’s eyes go wide (she’s got a healthy buzz) and her jaw drops. Azriel sits straight as a board and stares very hard at his drink.

“Shut. Up.” Feyre says.

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When you love someone, you don’t just stop. // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Y/n is sent a picture online of Shawn kissing another girl and she gets upset about it, resulting in a fight when Shawn gets home

Requested: no

Tears continuously rolled down my cheeks as I huddled my legs closer to my chest, trying to find comfort in my own embrace. It was dark in my bedroom, the blinds drawn and lights off. Peaceful. Then the sobs, my own sobs, would break the silence and I couldn’t seem to stop.

My phone- chucked across the room, still had the picture up almost as if it was staring back at me, laughing. It had been sent to me so many times that here was no way that I could not see it. Her arms around his waist, his lips on hers. More tears, more pain, more… emptiness.

I felt like I was drowning, the water being my very own tears. I couldn’t breathe; the air I tried to get into my lungs seemed to be fighting back out. Gasping I get up, stumbling over to the bathroom and over to the sink. 

Retching, fluid from my stomach filled the sink, the bitter taste left in my mouth making me cry harder. Wiping my mouth I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess. The pony tail I had it in all day was falling out and my eyes were red, mascara marked on my cheeks.

Turning the tap on, I wash the sink out before filling my hands with the icy water and splashing my face. I dry my face before returning to the bedroom. I stare at the room.

Photographs line my dresser of Shawn and I. When we went to the carnival and he won me a stuffed giraffe. My graduation, me in my gown and Shawn standing proudly beside me. I walk over picking up the last photograph. 

It was our 1st anniversary and he had taken me to a fancy restaurant in town. I was wearing my favorite dress and Shawn wore an all black suit. We looked happy. Why wasn’t he happy anymore? 

Anger like a tidal wave, smashes into my body. I let out an angry scream, chucking the frame across the room. I push everything off the dresser, the glass smashing against the floor, shards going everywhere.

Heavy tears leak out my eyes again. Leaning against the wall I slid down till I’m sitting. I rest my head on my arms that are held up on my knees, the pain churning in my stomach.

“Y/N, I’m home!” His voice made that pain jolt inside of me. It was like the pain recognized the cause. My breathing quickened. What was I meant to say to the person that just broke my heart?

“Y/n? Are you here?” His footsteps echo around the house, nearing the bedroom. He walked in, noticing the broken frames first before his eyes landed on mine. He rushes to me, leaning down his hand outstretched to touch me but disgust fills my body.

“Don’t.” I say simply, scrambling away from him, venom filled with the one word.

“What? Sweetie, what’s wrong?” He asks, concern in his eyes. The fact that he’s worried makes the anger intensify. 

“Why would you care?” I spit, glaring at him.

“I don’t follow,” Shawn asks, confused.

Seeing my phone on the floor near me, I pick it up, unlocking it. The pictures are still there, still make my stomach flip when I see them, still make me hurt. 

Do you follow this?” I ask, showing him the picture. His face falls quickly. 

“I need you to understand-” He begins. I don’t let him finish.

“No- you don’t get to tell me what I need to understand and what I shouldn’t. You listen to me Shawn!” I blurt, tears forming in my eyes.

“When you love someone, you don’t just stop!” The last words come out of me in a scream, my hands coming up to shove him back. He barely moves an inch

“When you’ve been with someone as long as we have,” I sniffle. “You do not go about breaking up with them like this. You must have known when you started falling out of love with me. Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask hysterically.

“I.. I never stopped loving you,” He begs, tears rolling down his blotchy cheeks. This may be the first time I have ever seen him cry.

“Bullshit,” I scream, shoving him again. “If you loved me you never would have kissed her then came home and pretended like it ever happen!” sobs rack my body, air not seeming to fill my lungs properly. 

“What was it Shawn? What made you decide that I wasn’t enough?” I ask, the anger subsiding to be replaced with fear. Fear that I was never going to be good enough for him. 

“Nothing- You were perfect Y/n,” He says, finally reaching out to touch me again. I let him. For one moment, I just needed to be comforted. 

“I was going to tell you,” He whispers in my ear. I start crying again, shuddering in his arms.

“Please just let me explain,” he begs. When I don’t speak, he takes it as his cue to continue.

“I was out today and a bunch of fans found me, one of them a bit too excited. When I went to give her hug she kissed me, I swear upon my life that I pushed her back,” He says pulling back to look in my eyes.

“I think her friends knew what she was going to do because as soon as she did it they had their phones out,” His hands hold the side of my face, his thumb wiping away my tears. “Please, baby, believe me when I tell you, I never fell out of love with you,” His eyes are bloodshot from when he was crying and they search mine trying to read my expression. 

“I love you just as much as the day when I realized I was in love with you. My heart has been yours since that day and I have no hope of ever getting it back. The last thing I want in this world is to hurt you,”

I nod, my hands reaching up to cover his. “I’m sorry,” I croak.

“It’s okay sweetie, you didn’t know,” he kisses my forehead gently, wrapping me in his arms again. “You didn’t know,”

Originally posted by pride-direction

Flirt // Chandler Riggs Imagine

Chandler is more slightly more over-confident and cheeky in this one, instead of the aDORABLE CINNAMON ROLL he usually is.

Requested by: @fannyimagines

PROMPT: The reader has a part on twd as Carl’s love interest. Chandler flirts with her during a panel, only making the fans ship them more<3

Hope you enjoy my loves!



C H A N D L E R // 1 2 4 8

I nervously tugged at my top as I stood behind the stage with the rest of the cast. We were about to go on for a twd panel at ComicCon. I had done panels a million times before but this was the first time I was properly nervous.

The only reason I was so scared was because I noticed I had been getting more attention lately on social media, which worried me because I might be asked more questions than normal. My recent ‘fame’ It was due to the fact that I was beginning to get a bigger part in the show. I had been on The Walking Dead for years, playing Melissa Dixon, Daryl Dixon’s daughter. I had a decently important role, and I loved it.

Now, in season 6, I had lots more screentime due to the fact that I was becoming Carl’s love interest. Chandler was my best friend on set, so naturally, we were both super excited to have more time to work together. Well, I was probably more excited than him because let’s face it, Chandler’s pretty damn cute.

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Flowers And Chocolates - Kol Mikaelson

Request: Hello, do you received any Kol request? If you didn’t could you write a smut valentine’s one, please? luv u ((Anon))

Warnings: Smut, so much smut, fluffy smut.

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Reader

A/n: Valentine’s Day!!!!

Originally posted by alltheimaginesbro


You were laying on the couch, very unladylike in your pajamas, watching Netflix and eating popcorn out of a bowl when Kol came in. His hands were behind his back and you knew that he had a Valentine’s Day present hidden. You stood up with a big smile.

“What’cha got behind your back?” Kol pushes his hands even further behind him and smiles.

“Nothing, darling, not a thing.” Your smiles grows.

“Nothing?” He smiles right back as your all before pulling his hands out from behind his back and revealing the roses and chocolates in his hands.

“You’re amazing.” You say, still smiling as you take the chocolates and flowers from his hands.

He kisses you, a quick kiss that leaves you smiling as you try to find a vase for the roses. Just as you slip the roses into a vase of water Kol appears behind you, his hands on your hips, his lips at your ear.

“What do you say we go upstairs and have some fun?” Kol’s hands run from your hips to your arms to your hands. You take a slow breath.

“Oh, I don’t know..” You smile, trying to sound sarcastic.

“You don’t know? Well, I think your heartbeat speaks for you here, darling.” His fingers tangle with yours against the counter.

“Fun, you said?” Kol hums against your neck as you talk.

“Lots of it.” He presses a kiss to your neck.

“Alright then, take me upstairs.” He brings your tangled hands to your stomach and, using his vampire-speed, takes you both to the bedroom.

He turns you round on your feet, his hands now out of yours and on your face, pulling you towards him to kiss you. You put your hands on his sides, getting a feel of the muscles underneath as you kiss. Kol leaves a small bite to your lips and you break apart, not hurt or even in shock, you needed to breath. His hand is on the back of your neck, the other one still on your face as you catch your breath. You work at his pants as he reconnects your lips, they fall to the floor along with your baggy shorts. Both of you had decided on no underwear, convenient.

The next time the kiss breaks your shirts come off, and then Kol’s laying you down underneath him on the bed. His cock rests on your thigh, his lips moving down your neck and his hands on the bed, one beside your head and the other near your rib. He shuffles down and you put your hands on his shoulders as he gets ever closer to your breasts. Your breath hitches, you’re eyes close, and your hands squeeze his shoulders as he attaches his lips to your nipple, rolling his tongue and blowing cool air on it. You buck your hips, desperate for contact, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Kol lifts one of his hands from the bed and brings it to your clit, two fingers pressing slow deep circles into it. Both of you moan and your grind into his fingers, your head thrown back and to the side, your eyes still completely closed. He switches to his thumb instead of his fingers and teases your entrance with his index finger. You tense and he removes his lips from your right nipple with a smile.

“Relax.” He mumbles, leaving a kiss to the valley between your breasts. You take a slow deep breath, willing your body to relax. And one it does, Kol takes your other nipple into his mouth and pushes s finger slowly into you.

“Kol, fuck.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and his name comes out in a gasp, making him moan.

You buck your hips, wiggling them to try to pull more of his finger into you. He pushes another in and you spread your legs wider, so eager for pleasure, and you blush at the thought of what you must look like right now, legs wide open, moaning and bucking your hips on his fingers. You’re getting so close, and you barely have time to warn Kol before you’re crashing down, hips still grinding, whimpering and calling his name.

When you come down, Kol is sitting up between your legs, his cock hard, his hands on your thighs, but he’s waiting, just watching you. You bring a hand up, and he leans forward, letting you touch his face. Your lips held a sated smile, and as he looked down at you, he thought of how lucky he was to have you, all of you.

“You good? Ready, I mean?” Kol asks. Your hand falls to his shoulder as he takes his cock in his hand.

“Yeah.” He scooches forward and you both let out smalls scoffs of laughter at the ungraceful action.

He slowly thrusts in, his head falling to your neck and yours tilting backwards. You had cum already, you didn’t need to again, which meant that you could make this all about him. You put your hands under his shoulders and twisted your body so that he was now on his back and you were on top of him. With a little adjusting you had him back inside of you and you were bouncing slowly, his hands grasping at the sheets, head thrown back and mouth open as he moaned loudly. He thrusts his hips up and you moan, bouncing a little higher from the motion. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed, hair slicked to his forehead as his eyes locked with yours. Kol’s eyes glance down to where your bodies meet and you make a show of wiggling your hips on his, making his eyes close and his head throw back into the mattress.

“Come on, Kol, let go.” He moans again, chest rising as his back arches and his hands fist tighter into the sheets. His hips buck up of their own accord and you let out a few involuntary whimpers, not hurting at all, he just looked so good when he came.

You fall beside him, panting and smiling. He releases the sheets and opens his eyes, letting out a long sigh and a laugh at the same time.

“I love you baby.”

“I love you too, darling.”


Author: Mikala
Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 3,800+
Warnings: Probably swearing. I think that’s it, though.
Author’s Note: This is a re-post from my old SPN blog, freshly edited and presented to you on a silver platter! We’re hoping to get back into the swing of running a fic blog, so here’s hoping! Feedback is always appreciated :)

Summary: You find a dog. Shenanigans ensue.

(gif not mine)

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Hold Me Tight | Pt. 2

( can you trust me? )

Part 1 | Part 2

Anonymous requested: Hwarang AU + Royalty/Servant AU
Pairing: Taehyung | Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff; Royalty AU + Soulmate AU (in which you know they’re your soulmate when you touch them for the first time + share extreme physical sensation after you meet)
Word Count: 5,906
Author’s Note: A little warning, light smut in this part! And crazy, reckless kids in love. Like the calm before the storm.

Summary: Kim Taehyung is expected to spend the rest of his life within the company of nobility after joining the ranks of the kingdom’s newest royal guard. He anticipates alot of new experiences, new people… but the spark of a touch more powerful than anything before in his life is definitely not one of them—from the shadows of maids and housekeepers nonetheless.


Kim Taehyung always thought he was relatively well experienced when it came to different happenings that could occur in his life, believing that even though he lacks the complete knowledge that can only happen with age, he had obtained certain skills such as critical thinking and deductive reasoning to help him figure out certain problems he couldn’t simply reach into his memories for reference.

However, this is almost an entirely different story in it of itself.

He has just found his soulmate, the person he is destined to spend eternity with, the person who was meant to fit him better than anyone else on the universe, only to discover that you were a servant of the Hwarang household. Of all the people in the universe Taehyung could have been matched with, it had to be someone he would be absolutely forbidden to marry. For a blinding moment, it almost feels insulting to be gifted with such a soulmate of such a position, and he wonders why whatever gods in control of this would set him up with an individual he could never reach out to. He feels many different emotions the longer he lets this realization dawn upon him: anger, remorse, complete and utter confusion to name a few.

But once those emotions hit him and pass him by, it leaves the lingering question of what Taehyung was seriously going to do about the growing elephant in the room. It wasn’t like he could simply ignore the issue, because it was going to come back and bite him right in the ass whether he wanted it to or not. Because eventually, Queen Jiso was going to try to find him a princess, she was going to try and find his soulmate—and Taehyung doesn’t know how long the Queen would search before she figured it out.

However, regardless of this impending fear that comes with discovering one’s soulmate is of completely forbidden nature in a way that could result in dire consequences (death definitely being one of them), Taehyung does the thing he feels like he is best equipped to do given his high level of maturity, thoughtfulness, and wisdom.

He avoids it.

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love knows no bounds (pt. 1) // edmund pevensie

summary: the reader and edmund have been friends for most of their time together in narnia. but, they realize their true feelings for each other at the worst moment; just when they both leave for earth. and it doesn’t help that they live practically half a world apart.
pairing: reader x edmund pevensie
word count: 1.5k
notes: so this is going to end up as a multi-part fic, and a collab with the most lovely @alwaysinnarnia​, who (i think) is currently working on the second part. i’m so excited for you all to see the whole of this :)
listen to: ho hey - the lumineers

Originally posted by aslansblessings

“1, 2, 3, 4…” Peter closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on the stone wall as the memories of Lucy’s very first encounter with the magical land of Narnia flooded his thoughts, a smile being graced on his face.

Susan pulled Lucy up along the giant rocks outside Aslan’s How step by step until they managed to reach the very top and hid in a tree, and Caspian ran off into the woods nearby where he hid in a hole, leaving you and Edmund with nowhere to go.

“… 73, 74, 75…”

“Quick, I know where we can hide!” You whispered to Edmund as you grabbed his hand and ran briskly into Aslan’s How, stopping at the very back to find the secret stairwell Aslan had only told you about. As you knocked quietly on different spots of the wall trying to find the entrance, Edmund sucked air in nervously behind you.

“What’re you doing?! Peter’s going to find us!”

“Shh, Ed! Trust me, no one’ll find us —“ you stopped your sentence half way as you knocked on the right brick. In robust, speedy movements, the stone wall opened up to form a set of stairs leading down to another room.

“What the bloody hell…”

“Come on!” you didn’t hesitate to reach your hand out to Edmund as he stood there looking at you with excitement. Pulling him down the spiral staircase, you two were greeted by a dark, confined, and dusty room, with a small bed in one corner.

“What— is— this place?” Edmund choked out between coughs.

You rubbed your hands over your legs, trying to get rid of the multiple spider webs surrounding your body. “It’s a room, obviously.”

“Yeah, but why’s it here?” Edmund placed his head back on the wall as he proceeded to sit down on the carpeted floor.

“Aslan created it for me. I would come down here whenever I was feeling upset or wanting to be alone, where no one could find me. It’s been awhile since I felt that way… The room used to be a lot more visually pleasing than this, though.” Letting out a quiet laugh, you sat down next to Edmund and closed your eyes, sighing contently.

Even through the dark you could feel Edmund smiling at you, and so, you found his hand and clasped your nimble fingers around it, giving it a light squeeze. This wasn’t uncommon in your and Edmund’s friendship. Holding hands, hugs, eye contact, and smiles were how you showed one another that your long-lasting friendship was still intact and that you were there for each other. You two first met during the reign of Jadis, 1 year ago in human time, 1300 years ago in Narnian time.

The Pevensies’ met you, the odd American in Narnia, at Aslan’s Camp. You were a newcomer, just like them, and was also part of the prophecy. You still clearly remember the day you were deemed a queen of Narnia by Aslan.

“… And to the august Western Mountains, Queen (Y/N) the Bold.”

Sharing many of the same qualities as Edmund, it was only natural that it you two were to become close friends. However, there was something hidden deep within the prophecy, which remained known to only Aslan.

When those who seek adventure cross the same path, they will encounter, later on, love’s true wrath.

You sought out adventure, just the same as Edmund, and it was when you first met him at the Camp that you realized that you two would instantly become friends. But as you became older, it hadn’t occurred to either of you, yet, that your friendship has grown into a certain something called love.

A few minutes of peaceful silence passed in the dark room, until Edmund spoke up. “What made you feel happy?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“You said that you used to come down here all the time because you felt upset… what changed that feeling?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your mind was blank. What did change that feeling? When you first arrived here in Narnia, all you wanted was to go back home. You missed your friends, your family, the neighbours on your block, the kind people that would always smile at you when they walked past; you missed Earth. You didn’t want to be seen looking upset and worried by the others here, and so it was Aslan who made you your the secret room. And then it filled your mind, you knew why you went from upset to happy.

It was Edmund.

The messy dark chocolate haired boy had been the one to pull you out of your constant state of sadness. No one had made you feel as happy and important as he did.

“You. It was you.” You could see him flash his pearly whites through the dark and you did the same back.

It was at that moment that you and Edmund had recognized that your feelings for each other weren’t that of friendship, but that of love. After all this time you had known each other for, you both realized that you loved the other. You wanted to be together. Til’ the end of time. Edmund now finally understood the deep fire in his stomach whenever he saw you and Caspian together as envy and anger. You now finally understood the warm fuzzy feeling you would get whenever he touched you as love and desire.

You both began to lean in, merely inches apart, as you felt his breath of mint on your lips and nose, just until the tapping of shoes and whispers of voices could be heard.

Down the stairs came Peter, followed by Susan, Lucy, and Caspian.

See? I told you she would have brought him here!” Caspian’s thick accent sounded through as he smirked triumphantly.

“W-what are you doing here?” You quickly stood up, as did Edmund, with a look of shock on your face. How did Caspian know about this room?

“We caught you, (Y/N). But I must say, this is a clever place to hide.” Peter laughed.

“Okay, but, how did you know this room existed?” Edmund read your mind and stated your question out for you.

“Why, is this where you two love birds come down all the time without us knowing?” Susan scoffed playfully.

“What?! No!” You and Edmund responded at the same time.

“No one knew about this room except for me! I used to come down here all the time when I was sad…” you trailed off as you tried to think of a reason as to how Caspian found the stairwell leading down to the room.

“Yes, well, it would have probably served as a better hiding spot if you actually remembered to shut the door.” Caspian rolled his eyes.

You sputtered on your words trying to form a sentence, but Edmund interrupted you, a tone of annoyance and anger lacing through his voice. “Okay, so you found us, whatever. We need to get ready for our farewell.” He shoved past Peter and Susan and ran up the stairs, leaving you there with a confused frown on your face.

Lucy ran up to you and tugged at your sleeve. “What happened?”

“I - I don’t know…” you left the others unconvinced with your statement. What just happened? Were you and Edmund really about to kiss? Did you think of him as a friend? All this time? Or as more? Thoughts flooded your brain, but you couldn’t stop them from overflowing. You needed to let your feelings out. “Lucy, Susan, I think I need to talk to you two.”

Susan walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed. “(Y/N), are you alright? What do need to talk about?” You ignored her questions and looked behind her at Peter and Caspian who had expressions of worry written on their faces.

Alone. I need to talk to you two alone.” Caspian accepted your request at once and walked out of the room. But Peter, however, needed a little more convincing.

“What’s the matter?” Peter lightly shoved Susan aside and took your hands in his.

“I don’t- I don’t think that maybe you should know just yet.”

“(Y/N), you know you can tell me anything.”

“Peter, please, I just don’t feel like—“

“What’s going on? Why can’t you just —“

“Peter, stop it! She’ll tell you later. Please, just go.” Susan gently pried his hands away from yours and beckoned him to leave. He looked at you forgivingly as he curtly nodded, and then proceeded to head up the stairs.

A few seconds had passed and you fell to the ground, your head in your hands.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!” Lucy wailed as she sat down next to you, her hand on your knee.

“E-Edmund.” as you said his name, you felt your voice begin to shake and eyes begin to pool up with tears.

“Wait, what about him?” Susan raised an eyebrow, concerned for not only you, but her little brother. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), answer me!” As her worry grew, so did the sound of her voice.

That’s when you started sobbing. Lucy shushed Susan and patted your knee soothingly.

“I think- I think I —”

“You think what?” Susan and Lucy asked you at the same time.

“I think I love him”

How the duet sums it all up in Yuri on Ice

So, I’ve already made a post about how Viktor finally got mad in the final episode, but there’s something else that I haven’t read about and really wanted to discuss.

I’ve seen many posts about how the duet in the next-to-final scene was choregraphed to illustrate the lyrics, and how the lightening was put in place to show how it all changed for Yuuri when Viktor came into his life. I’ve also seen some good analysis on how the lyrics represented Viktor and Yuri’s relationship. But I think there’s more. And I’ve decided to try and tell you about it. It’s going to be a bit long but I hope you’ll get interested enough to read throug the whole thing.

How the duet in YOI final sums up Yuuri’s and Viktor’s relationship.

Maybe even the whole show (I’m still debating with myself about this one, inputs are welcome !)

Now that I’ve been watching it several times (haven’t we all ?) it seems so clear to me, so please bear with me as I’ll try and explain it to you as well as I can.

First of all, it starts with Yuuri, alone. So alone, that the blue lightening here makes it look like even the audience’s not there for him.

Originally posted by ribbirasta

So here he skates, alone, tries his best, alone, jumps, alone.

I also have a theory that,if you consider that this piece sums up the whole show, the jumps might be a representation of his athletics performances at some infamous banquet ( :p ). Why ? Well, because, who comes in right after them ?

Originally posted by what-the-shit-mate

Yup. Viktor. And he comes rushing, might I add.
At this point, lightening changes, and see how Yuuri immediately welcomes him, but then turns away ?

Originally posted by yuris-on-ice

That must be reminding you of how Viktor tried and tried again to get close to him in the firsts episodes with so little success.
And then Viktor proceeds to drag Yuri along. Until, finally, Yuri accepts him and then, what happens ?

Originally posted by enchantingnanami

Viktor lifts him up. I mean, he LITERALLY. LIFTS. HIM. UP. And not only does he lifts him up, you might notice that he also prevents Yuri from falling down. Yuri’s falling to the ice, and Viktor just goes “Nope, my beloved katsudon, not on my watch. Get up.”

And now that Yuri’s seen that Viktor not only lifts him up, but also will protect him from falling down (wich also happens in the show with that beautiful scene where Viktor makes Yuri cry), he gives in, and we get some lovely close skating with hugs and loving eyes, and sweet strokes on the cheek. Their relationship starts building up, strong and steady.

Originally posted by viktvr

And then, another lift, because, yeah, Viktor will ALWAYS lift him up. Notice the strong pose that Yuri takes in that lift. Legs wide open, arms open, confident, taking all of the space that Viktor think he deserves, and at that point I believe he also thinks he deserves it.

Originally posted by f-ire-fly

And now, well, now they’re on the same page, and how better to show it than with some synchronised dancing  ?

After that we get the most intimate passage of the song - and, I dare say, of thei relationship. Symbolized, of course, with that part showing their hands and matching engagement rings.

Then, they keep dancing together, and this time they are both leading the way, supporting each other. Viktor’s not dragging Yuri anymore. They walk at the same time on the same path.

I’ll just mention before finishing one of the last images where we see Yuri behind Viktor, now being the supportive one. If you think about it regarding their relationship, you can think of it as representation of Yuri’s decision to retire to let Viktor go back to the ice. And frome the whole show’s point of view … Well, we know what decisions were made.

Speaking of last image … How come we didn’t get the final pose of that duet ? The end ? The finish ? As much as I would have loved to see them in their final pose together (and you all know how important those poses are at the end of a program, and that’s a thing we’ve always been shown so far, in every program from every character), we can see the fact that there isn’t one here as something telling us … Well, there’s no end to that story yet.

Request: Last Words

Request: (i love your blog so much omg!!) imagine dean dying (in 9x23) and the reader is crying beside him and tells him he loves him (she is a good hunter friend of the winchesters and bobby and has been in love with dean for years, but never had the guts to tell him and she was afraid he doesn’t return her feelings). could you write how he confronts her about her last words to dean as demon!dean and cured!dean? :) i’d love you forever!!

Word Count: 1,681


He’s dead. Dead and gone, eyes as vacant as a burnt out shack and still as stone. You leave them alone for five damn minutes and this happens – you wish you could be angry. You wish you could cry. You wish you could feel anything other than this deep, dark numbness that has settled and made its home in every crack and crevice of your mind and soul.

Even now, in the earliest hours of the morning, sat in a room with the bloody, hollowed-out husk of your best friend since childhood; the love of your life, you feel nothing but cold inside. Even when you reach forward and take his hand in yours – he isn’t stiff to the touch, but he’s cold in an unnatural way that prickles its way down your own spine and rests as a deadweight in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t realise that the words are there until they’re out of your mouth and in the open air, into the infinite distance between you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I was never there.”

Logically speaking, it hadn’t been your fault – they’d left in the earliest hours of the morning with their GPS off and no way of tracking them. They’re excellent trackers, which makes them better hiders – you’d tried to get your hands on them, but there had been no point in it – when the Winchesters didn’t want you to find them, there was no hope of you achieving it. So you’d given up and hidden in the bunker, researching and cleaning and tidying files and the next time the door opened it was Sam, tears running clear channels through the blood on his face, relaying a tale that began the infection of apathy in your heart.

It’s not like you expected a response anyway, but you go on nonetheless, “I hate myself. I hate that I let this happen, I hate that I wasn’t there. Why couldn’t you just let me be there?” They’d been excluding you from the big leagues for a long time – you know it came from a place of love, so you’d rarely objected – and look where it had gotten all of you.

“Why couldn’t you just see it, Dean?” You don’t realise that wet, hot tears are sliding down your face until they drop down onto your chest, making you gasp shakily, “I loved you. Love you. More than anything in this damn world and you still went and died on me, you asshole. Again.

“You’d never let me protect you. Not even from the things I could protect you from. I hated you for that – or at least, I wanted to. But I could never hate you.”

You pull your hand out of his, instead rubbing your hands over your face and raking them through your hair, “God. I hate saying it. I never wanted to – I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same. I didn’t see why you ever would. But I loved you, and I don’t think that’s ever going to stop, whether I want it to or not.”

After that, you let silence take control of the room again, but remain there with him for a few minutes longer, until you can’t bear it anymore. Only then do you stand slowly, releasing his hand for the final time and stepping back.

“Goodnight, Dean.”


The scream echoes through the bunker, reverberating through your bones even through the pillow you’ve buried your face in. It’s completely inhuman; perverse and wrong in every way – but it’s still Dean, and his pain still makes you want to run to him and take it on for yourself. You’re sure Sam feels the same, but you haven’t even been able to look him in the eye for weeks, never mind start a discussion about his brother.

Eventually, you have to give in – it’s late, and as exhausted as you are, Sam must be more so. It’s not like you’re going to be able to sleep anyway, so you shuffle out of bed – despite only being in your pyjamas – and pull an oversized hoodie over your head so the cold of the bunker doesn’t freeze you through during your excursion.

As soon as Sam catches sight of you coming down the corridor, his eyes widen, but he stands up a little straighter.

“What are you doing?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You take a deep breath, steel yourself, and offer the most blasé smile you can muster.

“I’m coming to take guard for a while. You’re the one bleeding yourself dry for this. Go get yourself some rest, I’ll come and wake you when it’s time for the next dose.”

Sam hesitates before nodding, but eventually has to agree – he looks ten years older, the bags beneath his eyes more pronounced than ever and his face gaunt and pale – but before he goes, he clasps your shoulder carefully.

“Y/N, be careful. That thing… it’s not Dean in there. Not the Dean you know. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He just wants to hurt you.”

“I’ve dealt with demons before. Don’t worry, Sam, I’ve got this, I promise.”

He nods, not bothering to elaborate any further before he squeezes your shoulder, then walks past you, heading for his room with a slump to his shoulders that would bring a lump to your throat if it wasn’t already full.

You hang around outside, battling curiosity versus courage for a few moments before eventually pushing your way into the room. Dean’s attention snaps to you instantly, and he grins, feral and wild. You swallow, pushing your hands into the pocket of your hoodie and standing before him, feeling oddly exposed.

“Y/N. I’d bring you a cup of tea, but…” He tugs at the restraints on his arms, then sighs melodramatically, “I take it Sam needed a break?”

“I told him to go for one. I figured you could use my wonderful company for a while.” You shrug, slowly walking over to the table Sam had laid out the syringes and holy water on, then sit yourself down on top of it, letting your legs hang down with your bare feet just barely brushing the floor.

“Bless your heart. Always were such a martyr, weren’t you?”

“I think you preferred to take that title, don’t you?” You hit back, perhaps too quickly, because he grins, rolling his eyes and blinking, to turn his gaze to obsidian. You struggle not to flinch at the sight.

“Only because you were too weak to do anything real.” He smirks, going in where he knows it’ll upset you, “Too weak and too slow. Never as good as us.”

“I know.” You shrug, obscuring your hurt with nonchalance, “But you still kept me around for some reason.”

“I cared for you.” He spits, “God only knows why, but I liked you. Loved you, even. I liked having you here.”

“But not now?”

He shrugs, “It’s fun to watch your little mind screaming in there, but other than that you’re a bit of a good-for-nothing. You’d understand if you were me, Y/N: you’re pretty much worthless.”

You narrow your eyes at him, carefully standing from the table and taking a tentative step backwards, towards the door – you can keep watch from outside just as easily.

“Goodnight, Dean.”


Sam wobbles out of the room, just barely able to support his brother – his human brother. Cas keeps watch too, just a pace behind them, whereas you’ve spent the last half-hour making sure that Dean’s room is just right. You’re not out of the woods yet, but… he’s human again. As long as he makes it through the night, you’ll be safe.

You volunteer yourself for first watch – you’d managed to evade his rampage by being out getting food at the time, so you feel like it’s only fair. You pull up a seat by his bed, and read while he sleeps, looking up every minute or so to make sure he’s still breathing.

He sleeps for a full twelve hours before even stirring, but when he does, he groans, turning onto his back and squinting against the dim lamplight the room is bathed in.


“Y/N?” He peers at you, and immediately his face clouds with guilt and his eyes fill with tears, “God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that.” You assure him, reaching out and taking his hand in both of yours, “We’ve all done it, Dean. Said things we don’t mean while under the influence of something nasty.”

“It wasn’t true.” His voice is scratched and broken, and you nod, trying to get him to relax and be quiet.

“I know. I knew you didn’t mean it.” You promise him, offering a small smile, “Sleep, Dean, it’s fine. Get rested, and we can talk later.”

“I don’t want to sleep until you promise you’re fine.”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

A long pause hangs between you for a few moments, and then he finds your hand, twining your fingers with his, “I meant some of it.”

“Which part?”

“About liking having you around. About loving you.” His voice snags on the word, but he continues nonetheless, “I’m sorry I never told you. I just-“

“Shut up. Stop apologising.” You insist, moving from the chair to perch on the bed beside him, “Listen to me. There is nothing I’d like to do more than have this discussion – Dean… I like you too. Love you. Whatever. But it’s a complicated thing, and one I’m not willing to have until we’ve slept, showered, and had a greasy-ass BLT. How’s that for a plan?”

He smiles, albeit weakly, “That’s my girl.”

“Absolutely. Now sleep, Dean, you’re exhausted.”

He nods, not bothering to protest it, but shuffling back a bit on the bed and pulling the cover open.

“Stay with me?” He requests, and you don’t have the willpower to say no. You slip into the bed beside him, allowing him to wrap an arm around you protectively and nestle his face into the hollow between your neck and shoulder.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

All My Days I’ll Know Your Face

Summary: When a new kid starts at Phil’s school, Phil certainly doesn’t expect him to be everything he ever could have hoped for in a friend and more. Can he convince him to let go of the past and audition for the school musical? And what about those feelings that somehow seem to pop up when he least expects them?

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: Fluff, High school AU

Extra tags: Getting together, strangers to friends to lovers

Warnings: Bullying, homophobia mention, some swearing

Read on ao3

A/N: Inspired by Dan and Phil’s recent comments, “I really think that 14-year-old Dan and 14-year-old Phil would have gotten along quite well.” “I think they’d have been friends”, as well as my recent Glee rewatch and obsession with theatrekid!Dan. Big thanks to Kirsten (cafephan) for encouraging me to write this, as it probably wouldn’t have happened otherwise. I hope you enjoy!!

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anonymous asked:

pls tell me more about mpreg victuuri... yuuri's "so much eros it could make me pregnant" line has awoken something in me


Yuuri hates his pregnant body.  He’s due in the death throes of August, and it’s only mid-June now.  The Kyushu heat makes him feel like he’s boiling alive, make his feet swell and ache more than they ever did when he was throwing himself all over the ice seven days a week.  The baby feels so big now too, taking up all the space meant for things like Yuuri’s vital organs.  According to Victor, the baby is the size of a cantaloupe this week, and Yuuri believes him.  When they were setting up the crib yesterday, Yuuri sneezed three times in a row and proceeded to piss himself.  (Victor had laughed, but not unkindly, and got him a change of sweats and told him to go lay down on the couch and let Victor do “the rest of the work, you’re already doing so much,” with a kiss to his temple, which was not enough to distract Yuuri from how fucking embarrassing it was.)  Victor spends a stupid amount of money buying him designer  maternity clothes with soft, organic fabrics that are supposed to be super breathable and moisture wicking, and Yuuri still manages to sweat through them while laying in front of the tower fan in their living room cursing Japan’s cruel indifference to home air conditioning.  

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anonymous asked:

I don't know if you're doing song prompts, but if you are, could you do Bellarke to She is the Sunlight? 😊

A/N: Because I hate myself and everything about the emotional turmoil these fools put me through ever week #IfIHaveToSufferWeAllHaveToSuffer

And if loving her

Is heartache for me

If holding her means

I have to bleed

It’s chaos. Complete and utter madness. The shrieking of alarms letting them know the Death Wave is looming, crashing down any second. The way their feet pound as they run, their frantic intake of sharp breath and quiet hisses. The rocket is packed, necessities and people alike. Through their suits, sweat dampens their brow and slides down their backs. 

And yet…. She stands there in the middle of it all, helmet off, a serene look on her face.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bellamy demands.  Why is she just standing there? A totally blank stare mares her face as she looks right at him. Like she sees right into him. It makes him shift uncomfortably.

“Trying to remember,” Clarke replies, absently. 

This is no time for nostalgia. 

“We’ll remember later. Right now we have to live, Princess.”

He grabs her hand to tug her along behind him as he climbs up into the rocket, but her fingers slip deftly out of his, pulling him back around and towards her. She stands on her tip-toes, barely even reaching his shoulder, and presses her nose against his collarbone. Breathes in deeply. Once… Twice. 

“Clarke…” His voice is hoarse. 

As much as he’d love to just freeze time and hold her, breathe her in like she’s doing to him, kiss her… He shakes his head. 

He can’t. They can’t. 

They don’t have the time. 

“I’m right behind you,” Clarke whispers, releasing him. 

He believes her, foolishly, until the second the rocket door slides up behind him. He shouldn’t be surprised, this is Clarke after all, but he’s in shock. So shocked that when he looks through the tiny window and out at her, his brain can’t process what he’s seeing. He looks around at his equally horrified friends faces as if to ask that they are seeing the same thing he is. 

I’m sorry, she mouths.


Her hand comes down around the button that will fire the rocket up and into space. 

She can’t be doing this. 

To herself.

To him.

To them.

“Clarke!” Bellamy screams. His fists come pounding down on the rocket door, willing it to slide back open. 

She has the Nightblood, but she’d been sick just hours before. Coughing up blood, her skin practically sizzling with radiation burns. She’s staying behind for whatever reason, some Clarke must-atone-for-her-sins logic, but there’s no guarantee at all that she’ll be able to make it. 

If anything, she’s practically good as dead.

May we meet again.

And then her hand is slamming down on the button and everything is moving even as he continues to scream and beg and plea. It’s violent and brutal and deafening. Everyone is screaming around him, desperately clawing for something to hold onto. A life-line.

He numbly looks at his hands. Even through the material of the suit he can feel they are slick with blood. 

He just left his life-line down on Earth.


Then I am a martyr

Love is to blame

She hurries through the trees, the fresh bark pulling at her fingertips. A warm colored yellow sun catches the gold of her hair. Her breath quickens as she pushes herself.

Faster, faster, faster.

The ever-present countdown in the back of her mind is slowly winding down. Closer and closer it calls, nearly here.

She grips the walkie tightly in her hand, bursting into the clearing where she left the rest of her gear earlier. She can’t hear them yet, but maybe soon. Hopefully soon. 

Clarke crouches down, begins fiddling with all the little dials and switches. God, she hopes today is the day. 

It has to be. 

There’s only the sharp whine of static coming from the radio in her hand, but there’s always static. Every single month, every single year. Eventually it has to go away. Eventually she has to hear something. 

“Hello,” she says, hesitant. 

She’s so sick of her voice being the only thing she hears. 

“Hello, this is Clarke Griffin. I repeat, Clarke Griffin. I’m alive. I’m still here.”

She waits.

And waits.

And hopes and prays. 

And waits and waits and hopes and prays and she does it every single week. Hope is exhausting and she doesn’t think she can take it anymore. Hot tears slide down her cheeks leaving a burning trail behind them. She let’s out a frustrated grunt and brings the walkie to her forehead. 

She should just end this torture. Throw the damn thing away and never come back for it. 

But the what ifs are too strong even on her most bleak days and she can’t help but wonder if they made it. If they survived and are ever going to be able to come back to her. 

“Please,” she cries. “Please, I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Her chest heaves as she struggles to inhale, to breathe. Panic is settling in. 

And then, remarkably, the static stops. 

“This is Bellamy Blake,” a voice breaks out, strong and clear. 

His voice. 

“I repeat, this is Bellamy Blake. I’m coming to get you, Princess.” 

Got7 Reaction to Your Bikini Top Loosening while at the Beach.

(Guys, I tried my best for this one, writing this was certainly a roller coaster from start to finish. Forgive me.)


While playing around in the water at the beach, there wasn’t a lot that was on your mind besides trying to run from Jaebum, who was trying to splash you with the cold water. Before you knew it, you felt your top slowly loosen from around you, and just in time you caught the front before it could fall and expose you completely. I feel like Jae wouldn’t completely overreact, but he would be surprised, for sure. He would help by tying the back for you, though, to make sure the accident wouldn’t happen again. What a kind man.


Like Jaebum, you both would be having a grand ol’ time being in the water playing miscellaneous games which require quite a bit of movement. At one point, Mark would come up from behind you and bear hug you trying to drag you down in the water with him (savage, I know). Somewhere in between that and hitting the water you must have completely lost your top. When you two would come up from underwater you immediately sunk back under to where your shoulders were barely showing. Right beside you, casually floating in the waves was the top you lost. Mark would probably just blush, apologize profusely, and turn away until you got your top securely on again.


Upon seeing your top slowly loosen while walking slightly behind you on the beach, he would probably treat it like some kind of emergency. “WOAH, JAGI WAIT…” He would yell while grabbing the strings to re-tie them, being super sure that they weren’t going to come untied again. He certainly wouldn’t be shy about the situation, but he would feel embarrassed for you.


You both would just be chilling and wading in the waves of the ocean when your top slowly loosened from around you. Luckily, your ladies were under the water and weren’t seen by anyone, but I feel like Jinyoung (upon noticing) grab your top for you and hand it to you before turning away. He would be polite about it and probably a little shy and try not to bring up the situation after that.


(Does he know what boobs are, should we tell him?) Nah, I’m just kidding, but when your top loosens in front of him as you guys are playing around in the water, he would probably let out some kind of scream and cover his eyes, waiting until you tell him that it’s okay to look again.


You were running from him in the water as he was chasing you with a water gun (as per usual), and while you were running as fast as you could in water, you lost your balance and fell. (You know where I’m going from here c’mon.) As you came up from underwater, your top loosened and fell off, causing Bam to produce a screech and run away in the opposite direction. Luckily, you had the water to protect you from indecency, and had enough time to grab your top and tie it back on without anyone else noticing, but poor BamBam would probably have that image burned in his head for the rest of his life.


I feel like Yugyeom is that one guy who always challenges his friends to handstand challenges underwater, like we all have a friend like that, don’t lie. So, you two would be on your second or third round of the contest and he lost, so he was above water first. As you came up, your top came off, apparently, and upon seeing Yugyeom’s shocked expression you knew exactly what happened and covered yourself up and ducked back into the water. He would hand you your top and probably help you tie it again, but he would be blushing the whole time because he’s probably not used to being in that kind of situation all the time (correct me if I’m wrong, though).



“Minako had said he was a blessing - that his pockets were deep and Yuuri was lucky to have caught his eye. But Viktor Nikiforov was a curse, and Yuuri finds himself trapped in a world of blood and death where it takes violence to mend what is broken.”

Mania is a state of abnormally elevated (feelings of) arousal, affect and energy level, where the overall activation is heightened as well as expressions (actions) of affect that are also enhanced. Freud considered that the maniac individual must have suffered a great and traumatic loss (something that could also be linked to the Oedipus Complex phase) and the ego unable to properly deal as it was supposed to turns all of its energy at a target that will act as a substitute for the object of affection that was lost in order to fulfill that gap. Obsessive and violent behaviour might be characteristics indentified in a maniac individual, though they may vary.

Cupio dissolvi is a latin locution that means (literally) «I wish to be dissolved». This concept has played an important role in the discussion on suicide. Some other reflexions and interpretations considered something like one’s desire to leave life in order to die, so that they could join God in the afterlife and end their sufferings, being able to become once again pure in the eyes of God. Freud believed that it wasn’t only a simple matter of having a death wish, it also had something to do with the struggle one goes through in a lifetime while trying to fight against the intense impulse or desire for death (most likely linked to his concept of death drive).

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Bellamy Blake Imagine: Don't Die On Me


Prompt: 42- “You are strong, baby. You have to be.”

Summary: Reader leaves the camp because she feels unimportant and useless. She gets hurt and is unable to return back. Bellamy and her brother Finn find her and bring her back to camp.

Word count: 1184

Originally posted by kcismyreligion

I felt so out of place right now.
I felt unimportant and alone. I felt more like a burden than like a helpful for the camp.

I still couldn’t get over the fact that just a few days ago I had witnessed my parents being floated. Then I had nearly seen my brother Finn lost his life as well. On the top of everything I had been recovering from being tortured by grounders.

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