why are older movies so hard to color why is his face so red

Insomniac - a Ten Years On fic

So, the lovely @bosstoaster (You’ve read all of her fics, right? No? Go on, I’ll wait.) responded to this prompt:


The result is the fic Come Back (as pure as gold) which, if you haven’t read, wtf are you even doing with your life? Go do that immediately.

I loved the shit out of this fic, and I asked BT if I could play in her sandbox. She is a gracious and kind overlord, and she said yes! So, I wrote a thing. I may write more things. We’ll see what happens! 


Rating: Teen

Characters: Shiro, Pidge, Green Lion

Warnings: Insomnia, mild dissociation, discussions of age appropriateness and lack thereof, Pidge being Pidge.

Wandering the hallways while the others slept, Shiro honestly didn’t know whether the familiarity was a blessing or a curse. It was a little eerie, especially when he was so tired– He almost expected to wake up and find that it’d all been a dream. His reality had begun to blur at the edges yet again, and every time he closed his eyes he feared he’d open them to find some fresh hell awaiting him, dreaded being told he’d lost even more time.

A year and change to the Galra.

A crash landing and an isolation ward on Earth.

Four kids and the fate of the universe in their hands, a legend come to life. Voltron. A few months that felt like a lifetime.

A battle, a victory, a void.

Ten years.

Ten years.

Some part of Shiro told him he was being irrational, or at least impractical; he couldn’t avoid sleep forever. He’d already succumbed a few times since his return, and nothing more had changed between sleeping and waking. Knowing that didn’t lessen his fear at all. He’d had no reason to expect to lose so much any of the other times things had gone sideways, either.

Even when he could force his waking mind to believe he’d be okay, Shiro’s dreams kept him from getting anything like truly restful sleep. He’d thought the nightmares of the arena were bad, and they were. But now they stacked with visions of waking to find his friends, his family aged far beyond him. He dreamt of their bones turned to dust while he lived on with no anchor but the Black Lion. 

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Boat Trip (Rami Malek x Reader)

Requested by anonymous : Hey could you do a rami x reader where they meet on a boat and have mutual friends and get close etc etc you can continue however you want

A/N: I hope you can forgive me for taking me so long to write this

Word count: 1,884

“Oh come on, (Y/N)!” Your best friend was begging for the third time now. “Do you really want to stay at home on a Friday night and study?” You just shrugged your shoulders and tried to concentrate yourself on your homework, your head was put between your hands. It was very hard to focus when your friend was whining next to you, trying to convince you to go out with her. “Come on, please. John wants to give us a ride on his new boat, so why not take the opportunity?”

“(Y/F/N), shut up! I need to focus. And besides, you know how important this exam is to me. I need to get an A.” Your friend sighed and rolled her eyes at you, totally upset. “God (Y/N), you’re good at school. You already get A’s in every subject, and you’ll do great in this exam. Please, John is also waiting for you.” You shook your head in frustration, knowing to well that she wouldn’t give up until you were willing to do what she wanted. But you didn’t want to go and didn’t even care about this boat trip that one of your best mates offered.

You were graduating in a few months and your final exams were already approaching.  You worked so hard to have a good average and wanted to leave your school with an excellent certificate. There was no time for going out or even hanging out with friends.

“(Y/N), don’t be selfish, move your ass from that chair and come with me!” Desperately, your friend went on her knees in front of you now, a pout appeared on her lips. She looked really funny like that, so you chuckled. “What?” She asked. You shook your head. You thought a little while and made the following decision. “Under one condition.” You responded. Her eyes lightened up but also stared at you nervously. “I can use your car whenever I want, even without your permission, for a whole month.” Her eyes widened, looking horrified. But you meant what you said. “Okay.” She held her hands up in defeat. “I’m fine with that, if that makes you to come with me.”

You smiled at her mischievously, earning an annoyed look from her. Then, you stood up from your chair, and collected your books, notebooks and pencils together, putting them into your bag. Your friend saw what you did, staring at you confused. “What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like? I’m going to study if I feel bored.” Your friend shook her head in disbelief, but let it be. It was not worth arguing further with you and hey, she managed to get you out of your house.

Before you left, you took your coat out of your wardrobe and put on some comfortable sneakers. Then, you went upstairs and told your parents that you were leaving, and probably coming back after midnight. They told you to take good care of yourself and you grabbed your keys as you went out of your house.

It didn’t take too much time to arrive to the pier where John’s new boat was sailing. As you stepped out of the car, your other friends were already calling out for you. “I’m sorry it took so long.” Your friend shouted back. “(Y/N) played the stubborn bitch again.” You rammed your elbow into her side whereupon she let out a tiny sound of pain.

“I’m glad you came, (Y/N).” John greeted you as he helped you entering the boat, hugging you afterwards. “We missed you, girl!” You looked around you, noticing that there were around 20 people on the boat. You knew many of them because they were your friends as well but some of them were unknown to you.

You must say, John’s boat was pretty huge and seemed to be very expensive.  No wonder, he was one of the richest boys in the town. It was a present from his father for his 20th birthday. You wished that your father would buy you something like this out of nowhere. But you weren’t as rich as John.  The boat was also equipped with a sitting area and kitchen on the inside and a small closet.

“C’mon.” John said and pulled your arm, dragging you with him. “I want to introduce you to some people.” He pulled you to a group of boys, some of them were familiar to you, but one guy was somebody you had never seen before. He looked quite attractive, very handsome to be honest. He wore a red sweater with some black jeans underneath. His soft curls were standing out of his also red colored beanie. His body was well build, he was pretty muscular. Probably, he caught you staring at him because he was smiling friendly at you. Your cheeks turned red immediately.

“Guys, this is (Y/N).” John introduced you to the guys. “You know, I told you about her a few times.” The guys nodded and smiled at you, asking you how you were doing. You wondered what John told them about you because you weren’t the type of girl to talk anything about.

John turned to you, a smile was plastered on his face. “I’m glad you came, sweetheart. Make yourself comfortable.” He gave you a brotherly kiss on your forehead, before he went inside to start the boat.

Meanwhile, you looked for your best friend who was chatting with some girls in your grade. You joined the group and talked to them a little bit. The whole time you got the feeling that you were being watched and that made you feel very uncomfortable. So you looked around and your eyes got stuck on the boy with the red beanie. Again, he smiled at you and even waved at you.

You turned around without responding. During the ride, some bottles of beer went around after a while, but you refused to take one. You preferred to stay sober and you didn’t like drinking anyway. You got bored sometime so decided to study inside. You knew it was crazy, you were here to hang out after all, but you could care less. School comes first.

After a little time of studying, you suddenly heard somebody’s voice. “You’re the first girl I saw who’s studying while a party takes place outside.”  You flinched and turned around only to look into the green eyes of this beanie-boy. How was his name? Did he even mention it? Probably not.

He joined you on the leather couch, offering you a gentle smile. “(Y/N), right? I don’t think I introduced myself. My name is Rami.” He stretched out his hand, you grabbed it silently and shook it. “Nice to meet you.” You said. There was a short silence between the two of you, but Rami broke it.

“Soo… why are you studying instead of having fun with us?” You explained him that you were about to write your final exams and needed learn a lot do graduate well. He shook his head in sympathy. You turned around to continue, but you couldn’t focus somehow, because his eyes were piercing through your body, making you feel uncomfortable. You tried to ignore him, honestly you weren’t really into boys like the other girls in your grade, that’s why you wanted him to go away.

“Rami, why are you here?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound rude. He looked surprisingly into your eyes, struggling to give you a correct answer. “Well, uhm.. I saw you sitting here on your own and wanted to keep company to you.” Something told you that there was more than that, but you let it be.

Suddenly, your temples began to hurt, and you begin to massage them while hissing in pain. “Are you alright?” Rami asked with concern in his voice. “Yeah.. I’m just a bit tired.” He grabbed your books and notebook, closing them and putting them aside. “What about you take some break? You have probably studied a lot today.” You wanted to resist but he was right. You needed a break.

“Tell me something about you.” He asked. You began to tell him everything he needed to know, for example your plans for the future, your favorite movies and music, your hobbies etc. In your conversation with Rami, you found out that his parents came from Egypt, that he had a twin brother and an older sister. He loved string cheese and the fact that he was head over heals in love with it made you laugh.

The more you talked to him the more you became attracted to the Egyptian boy. You couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful face, especially his eyes. Your gaze slid down to his soft lips and you had the urge to press yours against his.

“Like what you see?” He teased you, making you blush. You looked out of the window behind you, catching your best friend smirking at you, showing her thumps up. You paid attention back to Rami, who suddenly bit on his lower lip while staring at your lips as well. Your heart pounded against your chest very fast and your whole body began to warm up. He wanted to kiss you, that was for sure.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, looking away. “Don’t worry about.” You responded quietly. God, he made you so nervous. “I can’t help myself, because you’re so beautiful and I’ll die if I don’t kiss you right the second.” Your eyes widened at his confession, making the butterflies in your belly flutter.

You noticed his face coming closer to yours and you stopped breathing. His warm hand caressed your cheek softly, you could feel his breath on your lips. Rami decided to tease you a little bit with brushing his lips against yours because he knew how much you wanted him to kiss you. A little whine escaped your mouth, finally wanted to feel his lips on yours.

He didn’t wait any longer and placed his lips on yours, kissing you softly and gentle. You put his head between your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. He led you on his lap as he deepened the kiss, kissing you more passionate and wild now. You took off his beanie, your hands ran over his soft curls, tugging at them carefully. A low moan escaped Rami’s mouth, he laid his arms around your waist and pressed you against his hard chest. You sighed in satisfaction, his lips felt amazing on yours.

As the air threatened to be lacking in your lungs, you pulled away, leaning your forehead against his, breathing happily. “Wow.” Rami whispered. Outside, you could hear someone cheering and clapping, following by the others. The two of you looked at them, they had probably noticed you kissing each other. Even your best friend was smiling and cheering. You hid your face in the crook of Rami’s neck, so nobody could see that you were blushing in embarrassment. You crawled down his lap, but Rami took your hand and lifted you up. “Let’s go somewhere more private, shall we?” He mentioned the toilet and led you to it, while the others kept clapping and cheering, this time even louder.

“Maybe it wasn’t so wrong to come here.” You thought to yourself. “Definitely the best trip I’ve ever had.”

Oath | Ch.17 | Jungkook

Genre: Angst | Mafia!AU

Members: Jungkook | You/Reader | Yoongi | Taehyung | Namjoon | Hoseok | Jin | Jimin |

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

Originally posted by berry852

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Word count: 2464

Your heart was beating fast. Where did he come from? Why was he so angry? You did not do anything to bother him, why all the fuss? You were afraid he found out about your plan and was about to ruin everything. Taehyung was not around, there was nobody to save you now. You saw his clenched jaw and almost cried in pain as your wrist was basically being smashed in his hand. Your eyes met his, and for a second time stopped. His dark pupils gave you chills. But they did not seem like a stranger’s. What was that? He examined your face, his eyes widening in shock as your features reminded him of his lost love. Y/N? He could not believe it. This could not be real. He was hallucinating. He wanted to bring you closer, to take your mask off but it was too late. The whole room became pitch dark. That was your cue. As soon as you felt his grip loosen, you broke free, running towards the door.

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Title: We’ve always got the fight in us
Author: old-leather-jacket
Fandom: Wynonna Earp
A03: wrongendofthebed
Rating: M
Summary: Slight AU where the characters start to see in color at some point in their lives.  The cause of seeing color is questionable and disputed.
Tags: Wayhaught, Waverly/Nicole

Note: Whenever I read a true soulmates fic, it feels a little gross to me.  I don’t like the idea that two people are meant to be together and have no choice in the matter.  I tried to approach that in this fic, because yes love has to do with people seeing colors or not, but is it really because they met a specific person?  Should it be?

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So I promised an aroace John fic and I (eventually) delivered. Basically I jotted down stuff until I had enough to stitch together. While it may not pass for a cohesive story or even something with a cohesive theme, it’s there. I hope the paragraph breaks carry over. tumblr is weird that way.

Warning - this is not a story where John finds Rose’s human sexuality book and all is well. It is more a quest of frustration. 

You are thirteen years old when an angry alien tells you that you have to marry one of your best friends.


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moldytony  asked:

uhhh 4 the writing prompt thing - trans!kurama i guess! ;v;


What began as a typical Saturday-afternoon tea at the Minamino house dissolved into silliness as Shiori, incited by Kazuma’s prideful boasting of his poker skills, found an old deck of cards and challenged him to a game.

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crawling underneath her skin

So, this is what happens when I should be studying and when I am listening to movies soundtracks, and also when @howeverlongs​ challenges me.

It’s the first time I write something like this, and I would love to hear some feedback. It’s quite short, and un-beta’ed!

and it’s painful.

hope you’ll like it! 

Their love story is quite simple, really. However, it takes place under terrible circumstances.

He’s holding her hand, so tightly he could crush her.

But her fingers are already cold, he has nothing to crush anymore, and the most broken of them is surely him.

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Teacher Series: #10 Kisses, Misses and Distractions

Louis: Drama class suddenly seemed to become the highlight of your day now that Louis reluctantly agreed to switch you to the stage crew and allowed another student, Rosie, to replace you as Desdemona. She was a sweet, bubbly and extremely grateful to become the leading role. She was one of the few people in the play that could execute the role perfectly and not let that leading role get to her head like it would for other girls. In class, Louis would switch between practice acting exercising with a partner and teaching more about the history of Othello and going more in depth of the characters. Most of the time you would tune those lectures out since, in English the previous year, you read and analyzed the play for about three months. It felt so similar to English, which coincided to be your least favorite class so nobody could really blame you for tuning it out here and there since you had basically heard all of this before. You were picking at your nail polish when your actions were interrupted by none other than Mr. Louis Tomlinson. He tapped on your desk with a smug grin on his face when he saw the confusion on yours. Apparently, he had told everyone to partner up and you hadn’t even glanced up to acknowledge his direction. “I guess we’ve got an odd number of students here today. And you’re the last to find a partner.” Glancing nervously around the room, it was clear that everyone was following his instructions and discussing whatever he told them to discuss when you just sat there focused on your nails. “And I guess that means that you’re stuck having to be the teacher’s partner then.” His grin switched from being an I-know-you-weren’t-paying-attention smirk to an I’m-sorta-glad-you-weren’t-paying-attention-so-let’s-start-this-discussion-together. He sat in the empty desk to your right, seeing as Casey was off working with Amelia in the opposite corner. “Okay,” He beamed at you. “You start.” You attempted to tune into other conversations going on around you to try and figure about what you were supposed to be discussing but no one else seemed to be on topic. A pair or boys off to your left were talking about some new syfy, action movie that was coming out in a few weeks while the girls near them were talking about their recent date nights with their boyfriends. Their off topic conversations made you sigh and force you to admit defeat. “I don’t–” You began. “I know.” He interrupted, his knowing smile returning as he tugged off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his button up white shirt before putting them back on. “I told them to discuss how many different ways Iago could be portrayed. But there’s only about five minutes left so I didn’t truly expect much.” You sighed in relief. “How about we just discuss why you tend to zone out during my class instead then.” And, just like that, that relief suddenly disintegrated and was replaced guilt. “Y/n, I understand that I switched you to stage crew but just because you’re not going to be acting doesn’t mean that you can slack off in class.” You nodded in agreement, feeling in the wrong for not paying attention when everyone else seemed to be. It was rude to just tune him out when he only wanted this play to succeed in the end. The bell rang and everyone packed up and wandered out with their friends. But you hesitated since Louis didn’t seem to be finished chastising you and you didn’t want to offend him twice in one day. You quickly began rambling off on some apology; blaming yourself for thinking you knew everything about the Shakespeare tragedy. But only halfway through your rant, Louis cut you off. “It’s fine, y/n.” He leaned a forward a bit as if he was about to tell you a secret that he didn’t want anyone else to know, despite you two being the only people in the room. “I know you weren’t the only one who wasn’t paying attention but I’d love to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours.” You hesitated. He was leaning so close to you and  you suddenly became aware of why everyone knew that he was the most attractive and young teacher in the entire school. And he wasn’t even that much older than you so it didn’t seem very awkward to be talking to him like he was one of your peers. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” Though it was extremely vague, you didn’t really know if he would truly care about how stressed you had been lately but he would soon prove you wrong. “Care to elaborate on that? If it’s too personal then I completely understand.” You debated for a moment but Louis seemed to be a pretty trustworthy guy. You let out a deep breath before you started. “I guess I’ve been having a pretty tough time since I feel like there’s a huge weight on my shoulders and everything seems to be piling up on me. With school and clubs and my new job at that movie theater and the idea of college taunting me, I feel like I’m losing my mind. All of that is just making it hard for me to focus on anything.” Louis gave you those sympathetic eyes that you received from your parents every night and that bothersome feeling came back as you felt him pity you. You didn’t tell him all this to receive pity–no, you simply wanted someone you could trust who would allow you to vent and get these worries off your chest. “Which one of those is worrying you the most?” He interrupted, causing you to debate for a moment, comparing each of them before you came to your conclusion. “I think it would be college because I haven’t got much of an idea of how things work there and I haven’t got a major picked yet and everything in life is really affected by how well you do in college.” Louis nodded, wholeheartedly understanding where you were coming from since he felt this way no longer than two or three years ago. “I know that all those seem to be such a heavy weight now but maybe you just need some sort of distraction so that you won’t be constantly thinking about them any longer.” “I don’t particularly have many distractions that I can really choose from, Louis.” You had grown accustomed to calling him Louis instead of Mr. Tomlinson so it didn’t seem quite as strange anymore. “What if you found your distraction within someone else?” His voice dropped to a whisper and the lightness of it seemed to calm you instantly. You had completely forgotten that you were supposed to be in Calculus at that moment as all you could think about was how Louis was leaning over the metal bar between you two, tentatively leaning closer to you as his eyes fluttered shut and all you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You sat, frozen, watching as he tilted his head slightly to the left and, without noticing, you began to lean forward as well and felt his lips press softly to yours. The shock vanished in seconds as your eyes closed as well, focusing on the feeling of his soft, smooth lips against your slightly chapped ones. The kiss was effortless and you felt your lips practically mold to his while his hand moved to rest on your forearm, still testing the waters as to not scare you away. He was about his hand up a bit when there was a sudden knock at the classroom door and you both jerked back and tried not to look suspicious to whoever was at the door. Ms. Gracie waltzed in. She was the definition of any schoolboy’s naughty dream with her bright red lipstick that she wears four out of five days (while the other day is strictly for a bright pink color). And you’d never catch her in anything but a dress or skirt. She was a sweet teacher despite what her appearance would lead one to believe and was the top English teacher in the school. But you felt your face redden as Louis brushed his finger over his bottom lip since he could still feel the sensation of your lips against his. “Louis,” Her voice seemed much sultrier than the one she would use in class and you refocused on the notebook that you still hadn’t managed to put away due to the slight distraction. “Are you coming to the teacher’s lounge for lunch? Keith bought donuts for all the teachers and I wouldn’t want you to miss out.” You shut your notebook and shoved it into your bag. Louis noticed and sent you a sad, pleading smile before he redirected he attention back toward the other teacher in the room. “Yeah, um, I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, Rachel. Just let me finish up with Y/n and–” “No, I think I get it now, Mr. Tomlinson. Could you just write me a pass since I’m pretty late for Calc now.” Louis sighed but he knew that there was nothing he could do with Ms. Gracie here. “Yeah, of course…”

Liam: Liam was still sort of your teacher. Meaning that it was a combined class with two separate classes with two different teachers and while you were in Mr. Parken’s class but the students combined after attendance was taken to make it all one big class. It was badminton now, which you were glad since your friend Abby was in your class so you would definitely have a partner now instead of being the one to be forced to work with the teacher, though working with Liam wasn’t too bad. The class seemed to fly by since you and Abby would goof off more than actually play the sport. Before you knew it, it was time to change back and, somehow, you had managed to be the last one leaving the sweaty locker room. You smiled at Liam as you saw him circling the gym to gather all the birdies that people had been too lazy to return. “Y/n,” Liam called out, causing you to halt and spin around to face him. “Have you got a free period now?” You nodded. “Would you mind giving me a hand cleaning up?” There wasn’t another gum class after this one so the teachers were allowed to leave a bit early if they weren’t needed somewhere else. You jogged over to him, tossing your book bag on the ground before helping him pull down the net and toss it into the pile with the others. “Are you glad you’re still sort of my student?” He joked but you were glad. He was probably the most interesting gym teacher you’d ever had and you were honestly relieved to know that you’d still see him. “At least you’re technically not my teacher anymore so I’ll be concussion free for a little while I hope.” You grinned as you tossed a racket to him which gracefully caught before he grinned at you. “That was not my fault. You kept getting distracted so it was never my fault that something for hit you. You gotta be on high alert here in gym class.” He playfully pointed the racket at you to add emphasis that it was your fault rather than his. “You make gym class sound like a battle ground.” You didn’t wait for his reply as you stood on your tippy toes in order to reach the top hook that another net was hooked to. You couldn’t quite reach it but you were determined to, seeing as you agreed to help and you didn’t want to allow Liam anymore ammunition against your clumsiness. But that idea crumbled when you just reached too high and lost your footing. You slipped and tumbled to the ground, groaning as your head bounced off the floor. Liam ran over to you, crouching down to see you better. “I never thought I’d have you falling for me so often.” You glared at him but accepted his hand to pull you up. “You’re starting to sound like all those cocky boys at this school.” “I thought I was just stating the obvious.” You glared at him as you brushed off all the dirt from your clothes. “You could’ve attempted to catch me at least.” “Yes, I definitely could’ve run from the opposite side of the gym over to you all within the span of 10 seconds.” He reached up to unhook what you failed to and tossed it with the others, completing your task of putting all of the equipment away. “You alright, then?” His joking tone switched a more concerned one and he reached out to brace your shoulder to make sure you were steady enough. You leaned back against the pole behind you for support but Liam assumed you had lost your footing and gripped your waist to hold you up. “You really need to work on your coordination, y/n.” He was much closer to you now and you suddenly became aware of how close you were and the fact that you were still sweaty from badminton. You froze when his lips touched yours. It wasn’t your first kiss but you were still in a state of shock. This was your teacher. And you were actually enjoying it. With your eyes closed, you felt his other arm snake around your waist to pull you tighter to him while he focused solely on working his lips against yours. Your head felt like it was spinning and you were forced to break off the kiss to take a much needed breath. The room felt suddenly much hotter and you were so nervous about just having kissed your teacher in the middle of the gym, where anyone could’ve burst in and caught you. Liam coughed awkwardly, his cheeks a deep red as detached himself from you. “Well, um, next time you fall, I’ll be sure to catch you then.”

Niall: School had once again returned to its drama free environment as soon as you switched from Niall’s class. Well, as drama free as it could actually be. Your new teacher was Mr. Morgan and he was approaching his fifties but he still was one of the nicer teachers in school but you’d never actually survive his class if Noah Harper wasn’t in it. He was one of your best friends; easily your best guy friend. He would always make sure that you understood the lesson because history was absolutely his favorite subject so he was always willing to help you out if you didn’t get it. And if Mr. Morgan happened to call on you for a question that you obviously didn’t know, you’d always feel a slight kick to your leg to capture your attention before Noah would whisper the answer for only you to hear. He was a lifesaver in every way and, after only two weeks in the new class, you two had grown much closer. You used to sit with Chloe at lunch but, recently, opted to sit in a hallway with Noah while he today practically begged you to come to his house that night seeing as he had to watch his five year old sister and he was terrified to watch her alone. “Just please, y/n,” He pleaded, sending you puppy dog eyes before he snagged a potato chip from you. “Becca loves you and she actually listens to you unlike me.” “Noah…” You weren’t particularly excited to babysit with him but you knew that Noah wasn’t the best at watching Rebecca but his parents couldn’t find anyone else on such short notice. “C'mon, it’s Friday and she goes to bed around 8 so we can watch some superhero movie until my parents get home.” You knew that you’d end up agreeing since it wouldn’t be too bad to see Becca again and his parents were always glad to have you around. “You better not try to make a move on me then, Noah.” You joked and Noah instantly caught on, faking a yawn and stretch that ended with his arm resting on your shoulder to pull you closer. “Why would you ever think I’d be so petty and pull a move then? I thought I was a bit more romantic than that.” Your glare faded into a giggle. “I don’t think you even have any moves, Noah.” He clutched his heart in fake pain, leaning forward as if he was telling a secret. “I have plenty of moves.” “I’ll believe it when I see it.” You joked teased but Noah seemed to take that as a challenge. “I bet that if I tried, I could totally win you over, babe.” Your relationship with Noah had always been strictly platonic but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to put an end to this. You were at a loss for words. He pulled you closer, leaning forward to press his lips against your cheek. He smiled, his arm that was resting on your shoulder slipped down to caress your cheek as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Can I?” Neither of you expected this little game to go this far, this fast but a part of you didn’t want it to stop either. With the slightest nod, he tilted forward and connected your lips together. Your mind suddenly flashed back to your almost kiss with Niall but you shook that thought away as soon as it appeared, this was for the better. It was much more legal and much more right. But, of course, the moment didn’t seem to last very long. “Guys,” Niall interrupted, causing you to recoil and skootch further away from Noah while attempting to ignore the sudden tension. “That sort of behavior isn’t exactly smiled upon here in school.” Noah wasn’t too fazed by the interruption but he did begin packing his stuff back up. “Sorry, Mr. Horan,” He said, reaching down a hand to help you up too. “We didn’t really expect anyone to come down this hallway.” “Well, just because no one was down here doesn’t make in any more acceptable.” Niall’s voice was gruff and you refused to meet his stare. His phone interrupted his scolding and he grumbled as he pulled it from his pocket. You glanced at the caller id, out of habit more than nosiness of course, and you felt your stomach lurch when you saw it was Melissa calling. The gorgeous red head strikes again. But, in a way, you felt satisfied when you saw him ignore the call. “Y/n,” Noah butted in, making you realize that you were just standing there observing Niall. “Do you want me to walk you to photography?” You shook your head “I don’t want you to be late for Chemistry.” He nodded, sending you a quick smile and wink before he took off. “I’ll see you tonight then.” You were about to say goodbye to Niall, hoping to keep your life as drama free as it had been recently by keeping it short and professional with him. But, once again, his phone interrupted and you couldn’t help the scowl the appeared on your face. Melissa. She and Niall had probably hit it off and now she needed to hear his voice at least once a day. “You should get that.” Sourness seeped from your voice and you couldn’t take it back before it was all out there. And if he hadn’t been able to tell that you were still bitter, he sure as hell knew it now. He shook his head, dismissing your poignant tone. “I told her that I wasn’t exactly ready for a relationship yet but she doesn’t quite understand that idea just yet. She’s been calling me a lot lately.” He sighed, once again ignoring the call and shoving the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry ‘bout that. You probably don’t care, just felt like I had to explain myself a bit.” You nodded along, not bothering to add to the conversation anymore in fear that your bottled up frustration would only arise. But he, apparently, didn’t take that hint as he continued on. “I called it off after that date since everything felt so weird after that.” You continued to nod, hoping to make a quick exit without being anymore rude than you’ve already, unintentionally, been. “Well I hope everything works out for you eventually then, Mr. Horan.” You threw out your empty chip bag in the trash can behind you before you went to wander off to class. “Y/n?” You groaned as you were forced to turn around and acknowledge him once again. “Be careful around here with your PDA. Almost all the teachers here will send you straight to detention if they were the ones to catch you. I don’t want you to be wasting your Saturday mornings in detention because of young love.”

Zayn: You were bumped up to the AP class but, being as shy as you were combined with not being close friends with anyone in the class, you opted to distance yourself in the back rather than force a conversation with anyone. It wasn’t too bad; it just allowed you to focus a bit more and the music Zayn had on a background noise also helped to tune out the other conversations happening around you. Zayn tapped on the edge of your desk to capture your attention. “I wanna enlist some of your pieces in an upcoming art show.” He said it so causally, but his voice was loud enough to cause some other students halt their conversations to eavesdrop on yours. “It’ll count as extra credit if that’s what you’re worried about. Just a few pieces. We can pick them out together if you want but I’ve already got a few in mind.” You were a bit unsure about agreeing since you weren’t sure who else he proposed this to and you knew that it would only add to your nerves to have your fellow classmates judging your pieces. But this would be your very first experience at an art exhibit and you knew that this opportunity may not come up again anytime soon. He noticed your hesitation and decided that it was best to give you some time to debate it. “We can talk after class. Just think it over. I think it’d be a good opportunity for you.” He sent you a smile before he heard his name being called across the room and wandered to help them. When the bell rang, you packed up everything but decided to leave your sketchbook out. “Have you come to a decision then?” He wasn’t pressuring you in any way, simply awaiting your response. He pulled up a chair beside you, smiling softly as he pulled your sketchbook closer and flipped through it once again. “This one,” He pointed to a collage of superheroes from both DC comics and Marvel that you had drawn during your English and Physics class that day. It wasn’t quite finished yet but a few characters, such as The Flash, Captain America and Spiderman were completed perfectly. There were still a few details on Wonder Women and Batman that you hadn’t quite had a chance to finish. “This is amazing.” He was analyzing every detail, making you a bit nervous as it was clear how much of a comic book nerd he was since he had posters and drawings of multiple heroes around his room. “Now I don’t think it’s what people at an art exhibit are expecting to see but it would definitely fit more of a school sponsored art show. But something like that wolf that you painted the other day would work perfectly.” You felt more than nervous. You really wanted this to happen and you’ve been to so many of them yourself but you’ve never had the chance to participate in one yourself. “That is if you want to join me.” That struck your attention. “You’re going to be a part of it too?” He nodded. “I know the guy who’s putting all of it together so I convinced him to allow me to include one of my students with me. I thought it would be an amazing opportunity and you were the first person who came to my mind.” And now there was no way you could turn down this generous offer. “Well what pieces did you have in mind.” And then he had the widest grin known to man as he hopped off his seat to the cupboard near his desk. He fiddled through the art he had stored in there to grade before he finally emerged with three or four pieces in his arms. “These were the first few that came to my mind but we could definitely add some different ones.” He picked all of your realism drawings or paintings and you were visible ecstatic that your plan to show him your abilities really worked out in the end. “What about the drawing from the beginning of the year where the girl is dreaming and it’s like a jumbled mess of everything she’s dreaming above here?” You had always particularly liked that one but Zayn never really gave you any feedback on it so you weren’t sure if it was exhibit quality. And as Zayn paused for a moment, as if he was attempting to recall the piece, and you felt your nerves only grow from his hesitation. But if this was a cartoon, you would’ve seen a lightbulb light up over his head as he dashed to the back of the room and shuffled through the large folders back there. It took a bit of searching time but he finally found it and brought it back over to where you sat. “I can’t believe I forgot this one.” He slipped back next to you, trying to survey each small detail you had managed to fit in but he also felt like he could stare at it for a few hours and still manage to miss something. “I feel like this is beautiful,” You glanced up from your work to see him staring at you instead, making you suddenly shy and desperate to hide behind something. “But I think if you could redo this in color, it will be the biggest hit at that exhibition.” He had a point, black and gray did not seem to do this piece justice and you didn’t want to make Zayn regret choosing to bring you, out of all of his students. “Would you really want me to outshine you there?” Zayn stretched his arms out before he grinned at you. “Well, at least I could brag and say that I discovered you and helped you to find your way. Then maybe I’ll get some recognition for helping an amazing, young artist achieve what she’s destined for.” You hadn’t expected him to take your joke in a serious way but, somehow, he managed to switch it around in a way where he managed to compliment you and make you feel on top if the world. And you couldn’t help but blush. It wasn’t like you were showered with compliments every day of your life so you were quite shy when it came to them. “No sassy comeback then?” He smirked, he leaned closer to you to make sure he had captured you attention. But that move only seemed to add to your nervousness and your mind went blank from any possible response. You felt like you wanted to kick yourself for not being able to come up with a coherent response but he had really managed to leave you at a loss for words. “What would you do if I said that I felt the sudden urge to kiss you?” Your eyes widened, it felt as if he had read your mind seeing as you could only seem to focus on his lips all of the sudden. “I-I wouldn’t particularly stop y-you…” And he didn’t even waste a second after that before he connected his lips with yours. The kiss was much more assertive and needy than you had ever expected. His lips were chapped and rough against yours and his fast pace caused your noses to bump quite a few times but you were much more focused on his lips to yours. This moment could only last for so long and you definitely wanted to memorize every moment seeing as this has been building since the moment you met him and you wouldn’t take that for granted. But, alas, all good things came to an end when your phone went off from your bag that was still resting on the floor. You could’ve sworn that you had silenced it for class but as soon as it sounded you and Zayn launched back, fearing that you two had been caught. You pulled out your phone, glaring when you saw that your very own brother had been the one to ruin your moment. Greg always had had the greatest timing… You waited too long before answering and the call was sent to voicemail but it was very clear that the previously special moment was now completely ruined. “Listen Zayn,” You began but your phone went off once again, making you give up and just decline the call, knowing that he’d just end up sending you a text for whatever it was instead. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I forget that he was picking me up today.” Zayn sighed and fiddled with a paintbrush that was left on the desk beside him. “Here,” He handed you the black and gray drawing that you were to redo. “Just–Just bring this in by Tuesdays since the exhibit is Wednesday and I want to make sure it’ll blow everyone away.” You smiled and carefully rolled it up so that it wasn’t as hard to carry but you became aware of the fact that he wasn’t paying any attention to you. So you left school that day, not knowing what had went on between you and your art teacher or even what the future held between you two. You just hoped things wouldn’t be too awkward after today.

Harry: He had a free period after your Creative Nonfiction Workshop so it was much easier for him to catch you up with what you missed without a rowdy class chattering on behind you and distracting you from Harry. He printed some notes that you had missed and one or two pages of homework before he began summing up what the class would consist of. His voice was so soothing and low, it was so easy to get lost in it. You began focusing more on the sound of his voice than what he was actually saying and you didn’t even realize that you weren’t comprehending anything he was talking about. “Is that alright then?” You tuned back in only to hear him repeating himself once again and having absolutely no knowledge of what he was asking you. You could go two ways here. Admit that you weren’t listening but then also risk him questioning what it was that had distracted you or even offending him because you weren’t listening. Or you could just answer and hope that it was correct response for a question you didn’t even know. But you must have hesitated between weighing those two options for too long because Harry jumped back in to make sure he hadn’t lost you somewhere. “If you don’t understand I’ll be glad to go over it again. But it’s all right here if you’d rather look it over yourself.” His voice was calm and he didn’t even seem to suspect that you were more focused on the sound of his voice than what he was even voicing. “I can reread it over later.” You agreed, more than relieved that you had managed to find a way out of that situation without him detecting your ever growing crush on him. “Well, I think that might be all then.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair as his stretch and let out a loud yawn. You noticed that the book he was reading before the class had started was still sitting on the edge of his desk. Its binding was worn and faded but the title was still decipherable and you immediately recognized it as one of the books that he had bought for you that day at Barnes and Noble. It was the one that he was so enthusiastic about and practically demanded that you share your thoughts of the book with him. It was even a miracle that his book was still holding up since it was clear how often that book had been used. And a part of you found it funny that he was willing to buy you a brand new one while he was the one who definitely needed a replacement. But maybe that particular copy had some sort of sentimental value to it so you really were in no position to be questioning him. “You must really love this book.” You thought out loud. He noticed your stare at the book and tugged it over to him, examining the scratches and tears it had gained under his possession. Harry smile grew as he flipped to his marked page, which was just under halfway through, and ran his fingers down the rough paper. “I know this one looked like it’s going to fall to pieces any moment now but I’ve got another copy back at my apartment. It’s a newer copy so I like this one much more since it has my particularly favorite scenes dog eared. I don’t know, it’s weird I guess.” But it didn’t seem weird to you. It only fascinated you; left you questioning if he had only other quirks like this. You reached down and tugged your bag up into your lap, fishing around inside it until you were met with a book of your own. Yours still looked brand new, seeing as you opted to use a bookmark while Harry preferred to fold in the corners of his. You were a little over a quarter the way through it, just behind Harry. “You started!” He exclaimed, he sounded like a five year old about to have his parents buy him a new toy. It was quite charming that he would become so excited just knowing that you reading what seems to be his favorite book. “I don’t want to spoil anything for you,” He butts into your thoughts again. “So we’ll wait to you’re completely finished to talk about it. Since I have a habit of letting things slip out.” That was very true. He managed to spoil the end of The Crucible by casually saying that John Proctor eventually dies. And Harry didn’t even realize he spoiled it until he heard the class groan and question each other if it was true. You happily agreed, setting your copy of the book on his desk and he soon placing his beside yours as well, redirecting his attention back towards you. “So,” He swiveled on his chair as he talked, his fingers absentmindedly picking at the hem of his white shirt. “Are you excited that this is your senior year?” You shook your head. College was soon approaching and, though you were excited to dabble in the world of literature even more, it basically meant leaving behind everything that you had grown accustomed to. “I think I’m more scared about this year ending and being thrown into the real world more than anything.” He nodded in accord, twisting his swivel chair toward you more and, for a moment there, he felt more like a therapist than your favorite teacher. “What about it scares you?” Harry couldn’t relate to the fear part–no, he had been ecstatic to go to college and finally be free. “I-I” You sighed deeply. You had always been so, so embarrassed when you explained this reason but then again who wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t say that I’ve been sheltered all my life but I think that I’m not as experienced as everyone else heading off to college next year.” Again, Harry was lost. But he was more than willing to try and understand your troubles and help you to fix them. He waited for you to elaborate but when you didn’t seem to, he took it upon himself to prod a bit. “That’s not bad, y/n. College is a time to experiment and discover new things. You’ll meet people and fall in love and peruse writing and reading. Don’t hold yourself back because you don’t think you’re experienced enough.” You sighed. He still didn’t understand. But you thought he wanted to so that he could maybe calm a few of your nerves. “Harry-” It seemed too weird to call him Mr. Styles in that moment but he didn’t seem to mind. “All my friends have boyfriends or have had flings or even gone on a few date here and there at least. Yet I’m the girl who wants to peruse writing some type of romance novel in the future when I’ve never done anything like that. It’s just so ironic that I’m chasing after a career in which I won’t be able to actually relate to since I’ve never experienced anything that I long to.” You let it all out there and you were slightly relieved when you saw that he wasn’t judging you like that one (the first and the very last) time you had told your friend and she had laughed–believing it was a joke and, of course, you played along and never spoke of it again. “Would you believe that when I entered College, I had any had one girlfriend–if she even considered herself that– and that was during my junior year of high school and it only lasted a week and a half because she only wanted a date for prom and she was dared to take the boy who always sat in the front of the room, completely focused on everything the teacher was saying, though he’d always been reading his book whenever he got the chance.” His eyes flicked back to the book on his desk for only a second but you still noticed his small, significant glance. “I couldn’t turn her down seeing as I thought her request was genuine and I felt like I ruled the world for that week and a half. But after prom, I wanted to prove to her that I was a gentleman and take her back home safely but I saw her climbing into Chad Davis’ car and I never talked to her after that day.” He leaned closer, hoping to really get his point across to you. “So, I think that it’s better if you wait and don’t force these experiences to happen. Otherwise you’ll end up wasting these very first moments and it’ll only taint what should be one of everyone’s favorite memories. The time for it will come eventually, y/n, and it’ll be perfect.” You breathe hitched and you suddenly felt trapped by his gaze. You weren’t even thinking as you leaned forward just a bit more and linked your lips with his. But he wasn’t responding. This wasn’t like every kiss you had ever read about. Your very first kiss was ruined because of your own stupidity. You jerked back only seconds later, feeling your cheeks warm and you focused on anything but him. You unzipped your bag once again and snagged your book of his desk before stuffing into your bag. “I’m–I’m sorry.” It was like you had completely disregarded everything he said about waiting and now he could get you into some serious trouble or that simple action could even be enough to cost your favorite teacher his job. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles.” You hopped up from your chair, walking backwards to the door, stumbled over a desk here or there but you soon fiddled with the doorknob, your palms sweaty due to nerves. You left without another glance back.


Music Note (pt 1)

Summary: Soulmate AU where a tattoo representing your soulmate appears on your body

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, romance, soulmate i guess

Words: 2,226

(pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4)

A/N: my first piece of writing ever. it isn’t really good but i liked writing it and i hopefully can continue it if people like it but here goes

The tattoo on your wrist was a reminder every day of your soulmate. Not that you needed a reminder to think about them all the time anyway. Ever since it had appeared when you were 14, the realization that someone out there was meant for you to spend forever with scared the shit out of you. You were painfully quiet and had never had a relationship, what were you to expect? Seven years later, you still have no idea. All you knew was that it was obvious your soulmate had to be a musician of some sort considering it was a small, black quarter note on the wrist of your left arm. You wondered if they were in a band or maybe a music teacher. All different kinds of scenarios played throughout your mind. Apart from the tattoo, there was no indicator of who your soulmate could be. All your friends who have met theirs just say you will know them when you find them. They say it was like fireworks went off or lightning had struck their hearts. As cliché as it sounds, you wondered if they were right and how it would feel. Also, you couldn’t help thinking about what tattoo your soulmate had.

Keep reading


Title: Numb

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Words: 3,475

Warnings: Angst, lots of swearing (lots of f-bombs, yay!), a little fluff

A/N: Sorry in advance, just saying. Oh, my poor babies :’(
Also, feel free to shower me with requests if you have any. I’d like some of those. Anyways, enjoy?


“You are insane. You are fucking insane.”

It was supposed to be easy — The hunt. You were supposed to go into the warehouse, kick some demon ass with the Winchesters, and be back at the bunker before midnight with a job well done. But of course, that would be way to easy.

“Do you think we could stop for a burger or something? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Being a hunter automatically comes with a shortened life span, and traveling around and hunting with the Winchesters means an even shorter life span than that. Add in the consequences of saving the world a few times, and you’ve got great dinner conversation.

“Dean, shut up,”

And one of those consequences is lying right in front of you. Dying.

“Woah there, Y/n. Not that I don’t mind or anything, but isn’t it a little soon in our relationship to be taking off your shirt?”

What an idiot. What a suicidal idiot.

“Dean Winchester, I swear, if you don’t shut up right now, so help me god, I will kill you myself.”

Now in your tank top, you crumble up your button-up into a ball and press it hard onto his stomach wound, and he shifts and moans in pain at the contact.

“Where are we, Sam?” You ask loudly, not taking your eye off the face in front of you. You hear a worried sigh come from the front of the car.

“Still about ten minutes, Y/n.” He replies, and you can detect the note fear in his voice. You don’t blame him, though. You’re scared, too. His brother — Your best friend — is literally dying in the back seat, and the only thing keeping him from dying is absolutely nowhere.

Cas, you think. If you’re hearing this, you need to get your angelic ass down here.

Your hands are beginning to feel damp and you curse under your breath when you see that the shirt underneath them is now soaking wet. You keep it there anyway, mostly as a way to disguise the fact that Dean’s dying and there’s nothing you can do. Still, despite the slim chances you can see, you know the Winchesters. They’ve each literally died multiple times, and yet here they are, still mostly alive.

“Hey, Y/n, has anyone tol … told you how pretty you look today?” Dean slurs, and you grimace as a streetlight you drive by illuminates his face, showing you just how pale he’s become. You gently grab his hand with yours to comfort the both of you, but your eyes widen as you realize just how cold it is.

“Oh god,” You whisper.

Dean smiles wearily, and squeezes your hand and you feel like you want to cry as you notice that his grip is weak, and growing weaker by the second. A shiver shakes him uncontrollably, and you watch him slowly blink his eyes as he struggles to keep them open.

“If I … If I don’t . . Make it, Y/n,” He starts, and your heart drops as you can see that even his speech is becoming difficult. You’re quick to slip your hand from his grasp and gently touch your pointer finger to his lips.

“Shh,” you say quietly. “Don’t talk like that.”

He coughs weakly, and you flinch as wet droplets hit your face. You slowly lift the finger from his lips to a drop on your cheek, just as you pass by another streetlight, and as you look down at Dean from the dot of blood on your finger, your get a haunted look in your eyes as you see that his lips and teeth are stained the same color.

You suddenly realize he’s moving his lips, but the sound isn’t coming out. Carefully, you push your hair behind your shoulder as you slowly angle your ear closer to him. His voice is breathy, but you still manage to hear something.

“I love …” His face twists in pain, but he fights hard to get the final word out. “Y-You.”

You freeze. He … What?

All efforts to try to regain your composer are lost because what he said has already taken root in your mind, as no matter how hard you know you’ll try, it’ll never leave.

You open your mouth to respond, but you stop in your tracks as you see Dean’s head roll to the side, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you say quietly as you grab his head in your hands and try to steady it. “C’mon, you fucker, stay with me.” He doesn’t respond.

“Sam!” You yell to the front of the car.

“Already on it!”

You both hear and feel the engine roar as it pushes it’s limits further, and you hope and pray that all the hours Dean put into making that car purr pay off.

You make it to the hospital in record time, and before you know it, Dean’s being rolled away for immediate surgery on a gurney, and you and Sam are stuck waiting with your tails between your legs as you count the seconds on the clock.


It’s been hours since you’ve last seen Dean, and you’ve probably worn a path in the floor from your constant pacing back and forth in the waiting room. Sam sits in a chair, his hands clasped together, brows furrowed together in thought.

Neither one of you has said a word to each other, only to the doctors, but none so far have had any new knowledge of Dean’s condition.

He’s all you can think about. His smile, his laugh, his strange need to throw himself in front of danger like he’s invincible. Clearly, he’s not. You wouldn’t be here if he was. He’s just an idiot.

An idiot who apparently loves you.

No, he can’t love you. He — That was just the blood loss talking. He was delusional. He didn’t even know what he was saying. Love is not something either of you do, at least not romantically. You love dogs, cats, and the color purple. You don’t love spiders, you actually hate them with a burning passion. You don’t love the color red. And you most certainly don’t love Dean. And yet, why does your heart flutter whenever you think of him now? What did he ever do to you to make you feel this way? Why do three lousy words make you feel all tingly and warm and girly?

The guy’s like your older brother. Loving him the way he supposedly “loves” you has to be like incest or something. It’s totally pushing the boundaries of your strictly platonic relationship.

What an asshole.

Why the fuck did he have to say that? Why did he have to go fuck up everything by charging in after those demons like he was some kind of wannabe hero? And then when he was literally dying in your arms, instead of quoting a famous movie character’s most memorable line, he had to go and say that.

Well, it was certainly memorable all right.

And the idiot didn’t even give you the chance to respond after saying that before he decided to just faint. How the hell are you supposed to respond to that anyway? Are his feelings even real?

Your mind kept running it circles, always ending up with you being furious and confused with Dean. You don’t understand any of it, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to ask him questions about it later.

Footsteps echo from down the hall and you see a doctor walking towards you with obvious news. You’re quick to alert Sam, and he practically flies out of his seat. The doctor’s expression is unreadable as far as you can tell, and you fidget anxiously as you wait for him.

“You two relatives of Dean Winchester?” He asks as he stops in front of you. You nod quickly, too focused on the news he’s carrying to correct him. His expression turns solemn, and you can tell that what he’s about to say isn’t going to be good.

He clears his throat before speaking. “I’m afraid the damage to his internal organs was too severe. I’m terribly sorry.”

In that moment, it’s like everything goes out of focus.

You see Sam out of the corner of your eye and watch him falter as the news of his brother’s death resonates. You see his eyes begin to glisten with moisture, but yours remain dry. You vaguely hear words being passed from Sam to the doctor, and that’s when you can’t do it anymore. You suddenly feel claustrophobic, and run for the exit. Sam calls your name and reaches out to stop you but you slip right through his fingers. You keep running, keep going, until your three hundred miles away, driving a car you stole from a gas station at some point along the way. Still, despite finding the chance to breathe, you don’t shed a single tear. Not even one.


“Cas, please,” You beg. “I just want it to stop.”

Cas shakes his head. “What you’re asking me to do — I can’t. No, I won’t. I won’t do that for you, Y/n. You’re grieving, I get that. We all are, but it’s been nearly three months now —“

“I don’t give a fuck how long it’s been, Cas, just take the damn thing away. I don’t fucking what to feel like this anymore!”

He flinches at your sudden burst of anger, and after a long moment of silence, he opens his mouth. “You know what the consequences of removing it are? You remember what happened to Sam?” You nod. That’s the whole reason why you wanted it in the first place.

Cas flashes you an uneasy look, his mouth twisted into an unpleased frown. “I’m going to keep it safe for you until you decide you want it back.” He says, and his consideration makes you smile, despite what was about to happen.

“I won’t.”


You’re fearless now. You’re free. You’re practically unstoppable. You fly through cases with ease, even though you’re going solo. Sam calls every now and then, but you never answer. You’re too busy being the best hunter you’ve ever been. It’s amazing. Most monsters run when they catch wind of you, and the few that decide to stay merely have a death wish.

You’ve never felt better. You don’t have any remorse or any feelings for anything anymore. It’s like you’ve been surgically numbed, thanks to Cas.

Who really needs a soul anyway?

That’s right. Cas took your soul from you. He’s not like a demon, though, you can have it back whenever you want, not that you think you’ll be wanting it anytime soon.

Feelings are useless anyways.

They only slow you down.

You’re nearly finished packing your small duffle bag on your motel bed after catching wind of a new case a few towns over. All you have to grab in your phone charger from the wall behind you, and you’ll be ready to hit the road. You turn to retrieve it, but find yourself staring at a familiar trench-coated angel with piercing blue eyes. He seems more exhausted than usual, and you can guess why. Still, his sudden presence confuses you.

“Cas?” You ask incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There’s something I think you should see, Y/n.” He replies, taking a tentative step towards you.

You roll your eyes, and brush off his request. “I’m busy, Cas. Maybe some other time.” You start to walk around him to retrieve your charger, but he steps in front of you, blocking your path.

“That was not a suggestion.” He says, his voice carrying the beginnings of a threat.

You’ve just chosen to ignore him and take your first step around him, but instead of your foot being met by carpet, it’s met instead by rough gravel. You quickly realize you’re standing somewhere else, somewhere you’ve been before. It’s been months since you’ve been to the bunker, and the idea of suddenly standing at the door is strange.

“Cas,” you say warily. “Why are we here?”

He doesn’t say anything, just knocks. Almost immediately, the bunker door is opened by a head of familiar long brown hair. He looks more exhausted and thinner than he used to, but there’s a spark of life in his eyes that you can’t help but notice.

“Sam,” You say, your brows slightly raised. He laughs and pulls you in for a hug. You don’t hug back, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” He says as he lets you go. You ignore him as you step further inside the bunker, your eyes darting around the room, noting even the most subtle of changes.

“So, why am I here again?” You ask, picking up a new book, oblivious to the figure who’d just entered the room from his bedroom. You look up just as he enters your line of vision, and you stare at him blankly. He looks exactly as he did the last time you saw him, minus the blood and dying. His smiles curves up as he sees you, and he starts to approach you.

“Hey, Y/n.” He says warmly. His emerald green eyes are ignited with life. Strange. You don’t remember seeing him that way last time.

“Dean,” you reply, your voice coming out in a flat, emotionless line as you lay the book back down where you found it. His smile wavers and he looks at you oddly. He seems to come to the conclusion that something’s wrong with you because he grabs a knife, one you remember as being made of silver, and the small bottle of holy water he keeps on him at all times from his pocket.

“When did we first meet?” He asks warily, slowly starting to approach you again. He’s obviously testing you to see if you’re possessed or something, and you can’t help but find the whole idea of it amusing.

“July first, almost exactly two years ago.” You reply easily. “You’re the idiot who accidentally shot me with rock salt on that case with the spirit of that drunk slob who was haunting the lives of his grandchildren.”

“And what did I say to you afterwords?” You smirk. Trick question.

“You didn’t say anything. Sam had to apologize for you by asking to me to join you two for dinner because you were too busy whining about being hungry. We only started to become friends when we both ordered the same burger at the diner.”

You hold out your arm as he stops in front of you, and you don’t even flinch as he glides the blade across your forearm, drawing a thin line of blood along with it. You obviously don’t squeal or suddenly burst into flames, so that sort of narrows down what you could possibly be. Next, in the form of a small splash, comes the holy water. You roughly wipe off your dripping face with your hands, and open your eyes to find Dean staring at you like you’re some kind of alien.

“What the hell are you?” He asks dangerously, holding the knife out in front of him.

“I’m still Y/n,” You say, your smile fake. “I haven’t changed.”

“Actually, she has,” Another voice pipes in, and you both turn your gaze to Cas as he starts to walk towards you. “And I’m afraid I can explain why.” You step to the side as Cas begins to describe to Dean what his death actually did to you. When he gets to the part about you asking him to remove your soul, Dean head immediately snaps towards you and he bursts with fury.

“You did what?

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just a soul, Dean, it’s not like I jumped off a cliff or sold it to bring you back. It’s not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Not as bad as is could’ve been,” he repeats, grumbling. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

Sam, having just found out as well, also feels the need to voice his concern. “He’s right, Y/n. What were you thinking?” He asks before turning to Cas. “And what were you thinking that made removing her soul sound like a good idea?”

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting Cas to bring you back!” You retort.

Dean snorts. “And that makes any of this better, how?” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“It’s not like I can’t get it back, Dean.” You say. “Cas didn’t just throw it away,”

“Then go get it and be done with it.” He says, and you shake your head hard.


“Why the hell not?”

“Because for for the first time in my life, I don’t have to worry about a damn thing. I don’t have to worry about food or sleep, and I can do twice as many cases on my own than we ever did. Not only that, but I’m a fucking fantastic hunter,” you mouth curves into a smirk. “I’m even better than you, Dean.” You add. “Jealous?”

His eyes practically big out of his skull. “That’s why you don’t want your soul back? All because you’re finally a better hunter than me?” He chuckles bitterly. “Well, congratulations, Y/n, you’re the best of the best. Do you want a fuckin’ gold star or something?” You huff in annoyance.“I’m serious. You’re better than me, Sam, or any hunter’ll ever be, but guess what, you had to ditch your fuckin’ soul to get there!”

He sighs, frowning. “Did you not hear me in the car?”

“You were delusional, Dean. You didn’t even know what you were talking about.”

“Damn, Y/n,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “If I was delusional then, then explain to me why I’m still feeling the same way now,”

“I can’t love you, Dean.” You have to look down as you quietly say that, your voice the closest it can be to sadness. You don’t want to see the look on his face, even though you know he hurts.

“Why not?” He asks, a bit of desperation in his voice. You swallow as you try and find the right way to answer.

“Because …” You start, your voice dropping off as you gather your thoughts. “Because why do you think I gave Cas my soul in the first place, Dean? I realized after you died, that I … That I loved you, you idiot.” You say softly, your face hardening as you add, “But you didn’t even give me time to figure that out before you were already dead!”

You sigh. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t do love, alright? Relationships, pouring all of myself into someone else and having to trust them with everything — It’s not that I don’t love you, Dean, it’s just that I can’t. Emotionally, if you were to die again — this time for real —“

“Y/n,” Cas says, somehow the only calm one in the room. “I brought Dean back because I couldn’t stand to see you do that to yourself anymore. I already felt badly for not being able to respond when it happened, and I knew there was only one person who could convince you to stop.”

Dean nods in agreement and lays a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Please, “ he says. “At the very least do it for me.” The contact feels strange. You know you’re supposed to feel something, but you don’t because you don’t exactly have a soul to feel with. Still you feel a hard tug in your chest where your soul should be, and it’s painful, but you finally decide that they’re right.

You turn to Cas before opening your mouth. “I’d like it back now. Please,”

He nods, and then you’re suddenly filled with a pain so intense that it makes you scream and writhe in agony, but Dean’s there to hold you steady, and whispers reassuring thought into your ear the entire time. When Cas is finished, you slowly turn your head to look at Dean, who’s waiting anxiously beside you.

All the feelings rush back at you at once, and for the first time in month, your smile is genuine. You plant a soft kiss on his lips and he hold you close, never wanting to let you go. And in that moment, you know that although the possibility of having to let him go in the future might be hard, you’ve got plenty of caring friends to help you along the way.

You pull away from Dean just as a single tear falls from your eyes, and you finally say what you’ve been dying to say for months. “I love you, Dean.”

anonymous asked:

lightning bug meme first time Dirk and Jake kiss??? :3

haha I see what you did there, anon.  Nice try. ;)

They’re not a couple in lightning bug au but I wrote you something canon anyway. <3


“What’s wrong with me?”

You blink sort of dazedly at Jake, reaching up to slide your shades back into place where they’ve come awry.  You’re no expert or anything but this is not the follow-up you tend to expect after being ambush-kissed by an attractive South Asian engineer in the mess hall.

But Jake’s staring at you with his face scrunched up in distress, his own glasses crooked, dark hair mussed, lips still pink and swollen, and—okay, enough, time to function on all cylinders, here, Strider.  Get your head back in the game. You trace your lower lip with your tongue as you sit back, groping blindly for something useful and coherent to say.  “I’m going to need you to clarify that statement a bit, bro.  What kind of problem are we talking about here?”

“Why the devil can’t I make this kissing tomfoolery come out right?”

You swipe a fallen strand of hair from your face, only to come to the realization that the usual precision order of your gelled hair is probably a complete loss for the day.  Okay then.  “I’d venture to say that you’re doing all right from this end.”

Jake’s unhappy face just gets more unhappy and oh.  Oh.

That’s… disappointing.  But.  Right.  You’re cool.  You try to put a little expression back into your blankface.  Something calm and reassuring.  “Sometimes it just doesn’t click, bro. Attraction’s not some magical paint-by-numbers.  Maybe now’s not the time or maybe I’m just not the right person for you to test drive the tongue-tangomobile.”

“But it didn’t work with Roxy or Jane either.”

Wow, you ranked last in Jake’s experimental run-through of the crew.  You are so flattered.

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anonymous asked:

Vigilante Jungkook scenario? You never found out until one night he shows up half dead. Fluffy patching him up after a big fight kinda thing? Love your blog~~

So this turned out to be more angst than fluff, but I still hope you enjoy it!^^ 

- Admin Sun 

Vigilante (noun):  a member of a self-appointed group of citizens who undertake law enforcement in their community without legal authority, typically because the legal agencies are thought to be inadequate.

Originally posted by orchid-bud

Jungkook was a young boy, around the age of seven when he moved to Downtown Seoul. He moved from the beautiful city of Busan to the poor slums of the capital. Jungkook never fully understood the reason he had to move, but he remembered the words of his father, saying how they had to escape the “bad guys”. Jungkook could vividly picture his father’s dark brown eyes staring at him. They once were warm and bright and now, they were dull and empty. Jungkook didn’t fully understand why or how they turned their dull color or even the reason they had to move from a small three-bedroom, two-bathroom home with a big backyard to some cramped complex apartment that often had power outages and lacked sunlight from the outside. 

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My Love, Goodbye [Ashton Irwin]


Summary: Kaylee and Ashton always seemed to miss their chance with one another, beginning at the age of seventeen and continuing to spiral throughout the years. When Ashton reveals that he’s getting married, the possibility of being with her best friend becomes as dead as his fiance’s personality. [Also, in which I die with feels. Overused Bestfriend!5sos. Oh well. Based loosely on Love, Rosie to some extent. I used American terms, so football = soccer.]

Contrary to popular belief, blinking does lead to many moments being missed. For instance, the first time that Kaylee and Ashton Irwin met each other, they were eight years old and struggling to make macaroni necklaces in a sketchy art class. The bright, yellow, and overly atrocious shirt that Kaylee’s mother stuck her in that day was almost blinding, and that was Ashton’s excuse when he accidentally glued a handful of macaroni on her arm in the shape of a lightning bolt, all while he was blinking away the tears in his eyes that her shirt created. Blink a second time, and time would fast-forward four years later where twelve year old’s Kaylee and Ashton were best friends, attached at the hip and never once pulling away from each other, almost like the macaroni and Kaylee’s arm. Blink a third time, and you might just miss the night three years later where Ashton realized at fifteen that he has a crush on his best friend. Blink again, and the night that Kaylee saw Ashton kissing another girl with tears in her eyes might just fade away. Blink, and you might just miss the story of how Ashton and Kaylee always failed to admit that the way they felt towards each other stretched a bit too far from friends for either of their comfort. 

They never acknowledged it. Maybe there was a few times that they tried, like the night that Ashton went to Kaylee’s house on his rusted bike to confess that being in the same room as her did something to his heart that utterly, shitting terrified him, only to be stopped when he noticed that she was leaving her house to go on a date. Maybe there were the small seconds where Kaylee’s hand reached over to grab at her phone, ready to confess everything that she had been hiding, only to realize that Ash had a girlfriend and she could not jeopardize his happiness. It was living off selflessness, a travesty to love someone so much that they would bite their tongues. There were times when the two of them were in the same space as each other and wanted to intertwine hands; there were some times that they did. That didn’t change the fact that it seemed to be an unspoken and unwritten code between the best friends that what they felt for each other could never reach any further than its constant state in park. 


“Do you think I should go with red or pink?” 

The question came mindlessly from the mouth of seventeen-year-old Kaylee as she frowned at herself in the mirror, her lips dropping down and pulling her features with it. She was sitting on the floor, criss-crossed so that she could be as close to the reflection that was hanging on the back of her door as possible, a million different makeup products surrounding her. Two different colors of lipstick were set out in front of her, both of them promising in the way that they would look against the dark color of her dress and eyeshadow. Even knowing that she would probably reach for the pink, she still had to get a second input. A rather terribly-informed, amateur input, but an input nonetheless. 

There was a heavy sigh from behind her, making her lips twitch up into a small smile because she could see the large frame on her bed throw his face into her pillow. The last hour and a half had been nothing but, “this color or that color?” for her best friend, and she was plenty positive that Ashton Irwin wished he had glued macaroni onto someone that didn’t decide the answer to makeup choices like it was an exam they were taking. Granted, he had complained about the fact that they said they were going to hang out today since they would be occupying other people’s time at prom tonight; they were trying desperately hard to forget that. 

The music that they had playing in the background did its job of lightening the heavy atmosphere that washed over the room when Kaylee opened her front door in a large shirt that she had taken from Ashton nearly three years ago, claiming it was the easiest to slip on and off when she was getting ready. Over time, it acquired a numerous amount of makeup stains, starting with the moment that she actually took it. They were fourteen, and Kaylee had developed her first crush on a boy that had only asked her out to make another person jealous. She walked home from school that day with her hand tightly in Ashton’s, and he didn’t let go of her until they were at her house and she broke down in his arms. The shirt had been the second victim that day, and over time, it became a comfort and control for Kaylee the older that she got. 

Ashton just happened to think she looked way too hot when she wore his clothes, especially when the shorts that she was wearing underneath it didn’t reach the same length as where the shirt ended. Seventeen-year-old, hormonal Ashton felt his face heat up slightly, even when he knew that he had seen Kaylee in much more provocative things, and ruffled his best friend’s hair before he made a quick break for her bedroom, not wanting to add to the already tense air that had been created between them the weeks earlier. They had made a pact when they first started high school that, when their final year came, they would be each other’s date to prom. It had stayed that way for the longest time, where Kaylee’s dress color choice was the only thing that ever changed. 

Then, they reached senior year and something happened between that promise. Ashton began to spend more time with a girl that worked with him in a music store, and eventually, all Kaylee heard about was how gorgeous her blonde hair looked when it was in waves and how long her legs were. Although she refused to admit it to anyone but her mother, she felt nausea when she heard him talk about the girl every time he came over. Something that she hated with a passion, and something that she swallowed down every time. After three months of that, only three weeks until prom, Calum Hood – captain of their soccer team – came up to Kaylee, braving up and asking if she would like to be his date. And she said yes. Soon enough, she was going with Calum and Ashton was going with his dream girl.

Though both of them tried to pretend that it didn’t matter, their friendship had been put on a temporary break. For two weeks, the only exchanges that they had with each other were when Ashton picked her up in the morning for school, when they saw each other in English and Art, and when they were at lunch, surrounded by a sea of their other friends. The Friday nights spent at their high school games, snorting at how many people sucked, ceased all together. The hours later when they were up until four in the morning watching movies didn’t happen anymore, and there was a void in their relationship that no one else to even attempt to replace. People noticed that there was distance between them, and there were the very few brave souls that had decided to ask if they were no longer friends. That was when it really sunk it to them. It was the longest they had ever gone without talking to each other, and by far, the most painful. 

Maybe it was because they weren’t having a stupid argument that ended with Kaylee in tears in front of Ashton, screaming while throwing wild hand gestures that would have him laughing a few hours later. Maybe it was because there was no one to blame for their radio silence towards one another. It wasn’t something that they could fix with a simple apology and a tub of ice cream. Ashton couldn’t hug the shit out of Kaylee until she was lacking oxygen and squealing for help. It was silent, unmentioned, and neither one of them knew how to fix it. Didn’t know how to apologize, or even what they would be apologizing for. For not going with each other? For breaking a promise? For feeling so heartbroken over their own decisions? For hating the fact that they felt the way that they did? No, they were far too stubborn for that. 

“Red. It looks good on you,” Ashton finally answered, lifting his head up after a few moments of internal pity for himself so that he could meet her eyes through the mirror. The gaze hadn’t been held long, not with the determination that Kaylee had to finish her makeup so that she could start curling her hair, but Ashton still had yet to take his eyes off her as she started to apply the darker shade of red on her lips. It wasn’t bright, and it accentuated the eyes that everyone always commented were beautiful. Ashton, more than anyone else. 

He didn’t know why it felt like someone had stuck a branding iron into his chest when he watched her, knowing very well that there was a part of her hesitant to start a conversation with him. He didn’t know why he seemed to rule himself with a selfishness of wanting to grab a hold of her and bruise her lips with his own every second of every day. He didn’t know why there were times when he was looking at the way her chest rose and fell while she slept next to him, and he wanted their heartbeats to move in sync or to even just be the slightest of something more. He hadn’t known for two years now why exactly he always felt like there was pressure on every organ that kept him alive, someone shoving down on it any time he thought about Kaylee too long. He didn’t know why he was convinced he lost his sense of self-control and ran out of two working lungs when he found out that she was going to prom with Calum Hood. He did know that he wasn’t surprised that she did. If his actions had been any indication of how he felt about his best friend, then he was a fucking idiot. 

“You can go get dressed, if you want.” Kaylee’s voice broke Ashton out of his thought process, the teenage boy clearing his throat as he diverted his eyes away from her returned stare. Her hands were busy with the curling iron, but she was expertly facing Ashton while she spoke. “I just have to do these last few pieces and put on my dress. I went ahead and told Calum that he didn’t have to pick me up, that way we can ride together.” 

The mention of Calum’s name had Ashton scowling unintentionally, nodding at the same time and pushing himself off of her bed. He was well aware that Calum was a good guy, probably one of the best that he knew. They had been in music class together for the past four years, and Ashton had had one too many conversations for his liking about Kaylee with the star player. If Ashton was forced to see Kaylee date anyone, Calum was the best he could hope for. Even then, it didn’t stop the fact that Ashton couldn’t help but want to fucking hate him. He couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, but, God, he wanted to. “What time am I taking you home tonight, Cinderella?” 

Kaylee’s hand fell stiff on the curler, and Ashton noticed immediately. There was a part of him that knew exactly what the tense posture was for. He expected it, but that didn’t change the fact that he felt his heart being gouged to pieces and throat closing up with a sudden wave of sickness. Blue eyes clashed with a mixture of hazel, and Ashton saw that her lips had set into a permanent frown. Guilt had filled inside of the teenage girl, almost like she had just silently revealed that she was going to be cheating on her boyfriend and that he shouldn’t come home for a few hours. It wasn’t that at all, though, because Ashton was not her boyfriend and she had nothing to feel guilty about. He had lost his virginity in a music shop to a girl he’d barely known for a few weeks. She didn’t see how her losing hers to a guy that genuinely cared about her was any worse or required the inaudible disappointment that she could feel wavering off Ashton as he stood only a few feet away from her. 

Letting her eyes soften slightly, she managed to send her best friend a weak smile. “I’ll call you in the morning, yeah? Let’s just finish getting ready before we end up being late.”

And, so they split up for an hour. Ashton walked to his house two doors down, across the street, and Kaylee quickly finished curling her hair and put on her dress for the night. Before she even had a chance to look at the finished result, her bedroom door was swinging open, Ashton mumbling a string of cuss words that sounded incoherent as he looked down at the tie that was refusing to cooperate with him. “Kay, I’m literally about to strangle myself with this damn thi– oh, wow.

His eyes had transitioned from their heavy glare on the black fabric laying helplessly on his shoulders to the girl standing in front of him, having only just slipped on her left heel when the door opened and he came stumbling in. The first thing he noticed was how different she looked. Sure, he had seen her on the days when she felt like wearing makeup just because she was bored. He had seen her when she was wearing a dress around the house because she thought it made her look cute (which, it did, but he didn’t tell her that). He had even seen her on the days when she was so exhausted that she just walked around with a naked face and an odd mixture between a bun and a ponytail. He had seen every side of her, but the side in front of him now was different. He knew, without a doubt, that it was because this was not for herself. He would not be the only one seeing this side of her, and he hated it. 

Kaylee had been more focused on his horrible excuse of a tie, snorting slightly as she walked forward to grab a hold of the fabric. In doing so, Ashton realized that the heels made her taller, to where her lips were nearly level with his own and her chest only a few centimeters from being pressed against him. While she focused on tying the tie for him, he focused on how her eyes scrunched slightly in concentration, allowing the smallest of smiles to cross over his face as he watched her. When she raised her eyes, going to tell him that she had finished, she was cut short when she finally noticed the same thing he had; they were close. Without meaning to, Kaylee let her eyes drop to his lips for a split second before they focused back on the hazel. His hand slowly latched onto one of her wrists, carefully holding it as he questioned whether or not to pull her in even closer. 

The last time that they had ever been this close to each other was a year ago on her sixteenth birthday, where Ashton had decided that he wanted to give Kaylee her present alone before their friends came over. It was a simple plan, and it had gone through without a hitch as Ashton gave Kaylee a necklace with an ‘X’ on it. It wouldn’t be mean much to most people, but considering Ashton had a very annoying habit of drawing the shape on Kaylee’s skin any time he had a pen in his hand, it held a lot of sentiment. In Ashton’s words, the ‘X’ represented two paths crossing. Two people that were the most unlikely of strangers coming together. It was almost perfect for the two of them, and it was worn around her neck every day since. However, upon placing the piece of jewelry on his best friend, he noticed that the close proximity between them left his heart beating faster. Her compelling lips left him feeling empty when he pulled himself away that day.

The feeling returned as he stood in front of her figure then. Restraining himself from pulling her closer, he cleared his throat like earlier and took a step back, his fingers moving to his tie to smooth it down as he sent the girl across from him a weak smile. He knew it didn’t meet his eyes, and he forced himself to ignore the look of disappointment that crossed over her features when he pulled away. That night, Ashton danced with another girl and Kaylee lost her virginity to another boy. It was that night, when they had come so close to kissing each other, that they realized what they felt for one another wasn’t safe. It was then, for the first time, that first domino was struck, laying out a path of mistakes and broken hearts for multiple others. 


When we were seventeen, I found myself infatuated with the idea of loving you. There were days on end when I would just think about every single moment of what we could have been. I thought about the possibility of being the only person in your life that you cried on because you simply couldn’t bear the idea of trusting anyone near as much; I thought about the possibility of you holding my hand when you were absolutely terrified of the world, when you weren’t entirely sure where your life was going and needed something to be your anchor; I thought about the possibility of being your boyfriend and your best friend both, of letting love consume us until the point of no return. I thought of endless possibilities when we were seventeen, and I think that in my heart, you’ll always be that person for me. Yes, you’re my best friend, and there is no one else that I would have rather shared every moment of my life with, but I need you to know before I marry this woman that I wanted it to be you

I know that these words won’t measure up to much now, and I know that along the way in these fucked up lives that we created for ourselves we lost each other somehow, but I just need you to know once that this wasn’t what I had planned for myself. That night before prom when I saw you dressed up, I realized just how much you meant to me, and that night after prom, when I saw you leave with Calum on your way to do something that I couldn’t even think of without getting sick… it made me realize that I had loved and lost you in a matter of moments. So, I suppose I should apologize for that. I’m sorry for not taking the opportunity to give you everything that you deserved in life, and I’m sorry that I was an idiot teenage boy that didn’t realize the difference between the right girl and the wrong one. I’m sorry to my fiance even more, though, because I think that even she realizes that every single day, she lives with this expectation of everything that she does being compared to everything I loved about you. 

When we were nineteen–