why must you be so damn beautiful

why indeed, John?

Why, when TFP leaked, did they make sure to call attention to it and ensure everyone and their dog knew it had leaked (which therefore had people watching it early)?

Why did they show TFP three days early when they showed TLD an hour before it aired to stop spoilers?

Why did Steven Moffat allude to a secret, lost episode when literally no one else was asking about it?

Why did radio times publish that article ten times?

Why did the mainstream media write about the Sherlock fandom vs Apple Tree Yard? Literally no one gives a shit seriously

Why is MSM talking about us at all? we’ve always been the crazy side of the fandom, no one gave us the time of day and suddenly our opinion is valued and even revered throughout certain articles?

Why has everyone gone into radio silence?

Why are there so many coincidences both within the writing of this season and the events happening around us?

Why do tv channels keep hinting at more Sherlock and then the listings magically disappear when people become aware of their existence?

Why did a Sherlock episode called ‘The New Friend’ appear in the listings? Where did that come from?

Why do they keep disappearing whenever we get close enough to the dates (almost like they’re saying watch this space)? Why was PBS showing three unknown episodes airing in February back to back?

Why were they going to call The Final Problem 'Backlash’ if they didn’t expect to get backlash?

Why would they have instances of Chekhov’s gun dotted all over the series with no intention to finish what they started?

Why, in TLD, is there a poster saying 'March 8th’ and 'the secret will be revealed’?

Why did they not have anyone sign NDAs for TFP unlike tld and previous episodes before it?
Why did the BBC scour the internet for the chess piece promo and have their lawyers crack down on tumblr blogs and place copyright infringements on everyone that reblogged them?

Why, then TFP was released early, didn’t the BBC lawyers follow up the way we know they can when the finale of their biggest show had gifs, spoilers and meta running rampant on Tumblr? Why ignore all of it and go after the chess piece promo?

Why release the s1 scripts if not to tide us over and keep us playing the game?

Why teach us how to play the game without following through on their own damned story? They placed this subtext into their narrative. They knew what they were doing. no one stumbles onto subtext this beautiful: No one will ever convince me that you told me a lie.

Why is TLD a masterpiece in cinematography and story (but not necessarily characterisation: still not happy about John vs Sherlock) when, one episode later, TFP is a giant shitshow of awful transitions, characterisation and fucky scenarios?

WHY DOES THE FUCKIN SKULL CHANGE COLOURS KILL ME

Why does Derren Brown keep cropping up and why does all of this stuff about subliminal messaging make so much damned sense, when certain phrases, words and catchphrases always stick out amongst the entirety of fandom? Things like, ‘there must be something comforting about the number three, people always give up after three’. ‘it’s never twins’. ‘no one could be that clever. you could.’ ‘this is a lie. yes.’ and there are so many more, that’s just off the top of my head

Why would they say ‘insane wish fulfillment’ if this isn’t an ARG? why did BBC say ‘be part of making history’ if there’s nothing to interact with?

Why advertise this whole series around love, and more importantly, why advertise ‘Sherlock’s in love, but who with?’

Why plant the seed and disappear right when it’s about to get good? 

Why say ‘to hell with deferred gratification’ if that’s all we’re getting?

Something fucky, that’s why. Add more if you got ‘em

I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
Georgia Gal

Pairing: Bones x (Southern!)Reader

Word Count: 1914

Warnings: Some swearing, general bar creeps

A/N: Not my first fic ever but my first Bones fic! Very loosely inspired by Ed Sheeran’s “Galway Girl” (maybe if you squint?). Let me know what you guys think!! 

You weren’t quite sure how you kept ending up in this situation - settled in alone a noisy bar with your friends long gone and tongue deep in strangers by now.

“I need to find better friends,” you muttered to yourself as you knocked back what was left of your drink.

“Well, then it’s lucky I’m here” came a cocky voice from your right.

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I had a dream last night that I was Megamind

and it was E X C E L L E N T.

It was pre-movie; I was in the middle of an evil plot that was outside the Evil Lair and Roxanne was there (!!!) and tied up, only it was really windy out and she said she hadn’t gotten her hair cut in a while, so it was a little long. 

And it kept blowing in her face, so she finally got annoyed enough with it that she told me to get a pair of bobby pins out of her purse and pin it back for her.

(!!!!!)

aaaaaaahhhhhhh and I brushed her hair back from her face and I ALMOST DIED OF HAPPINESS, LET ME TELL YOU.

Also, it is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to pin someone’s hair for them when you have never had hair of your own, so I was S T R U G G L I N G, but Roxanne thought it was funny and she laughed (!!!)

And I finally got her hair pinned out of her face, and she jokingly asked if she looked funny and I was already pretty flustered so I was like “no no; you look really pretty!”

and she raised her eyebrows at me and said I must rate my skills as a hairdresser pretty high and I started babbling about how she always looked pretty and it was EXCRUCIATINGLY EMBARRASSING OH MY EVIL GODS.

But Roxanne seemed to think that was funny, too, which (!!!! ??? !!!!)

And then Metro Man showed up, only I’d been so busy with Roxanne that I hadn’t actually even set up the evil plot, so I decided to pretend that there…wasn’t an evil plot. And we were still technically on the Evil Lair grounds, and Metro Man isn’t supposed to attack there unless there’s an evil plot happening.

But Metro Man was all suspicious, so I was like “no, really, nothing happening here” only he insisted that Roxanne was there, and barged past me to look for her and I was like ‘shit’, but when we got to where she had been tied up, she wasn’t there.

(she must have escaped while I was gone)

So Metro Man left and I was like “well, this day is a bust, might as well take a nap,” so I went to my bedroom and took off my shirt and lay down on the bed and okay, maybe I wasn’t exactly intending on napping, per se, but luckily I didn’t do much more than think about…that…because 

THE CLOSET DOOR OPENED AND

ROXANNE POPPED OUT

And I screamed and launched myself off the bed.

When Roxanne finally stopped laughing at that, she told me she’d gotten lost looking for the exit after she escaped, and had hidden in the closet. 

She also added “now you know how it feels when people break into your house and jump out at you, Megamind.”

I was like “I HAVE NEVER JUMPED OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM CLOSET AT YOU, MISS RITCHI; THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR.”

And she was leaning up against the doorframe of the closet and I was on the floor in front of her, trying to find my shirt so I could put it on, only it was all inside out and I was flustered because Roxanne (!!!) was in my bedroom (!!!) and she was looking at me with this–expression of amused fondness and it was really difficult to try to function with that happening–

She was teasing me about screaming, which she never does, when I woke up.

…and I just realized, typing this out, that she could have easily waited for me to fall asleep before sneaking out to find the exit, but she deliberately came out of the closet while I was still awake, so she must have wanted to–see me–talk to me–interact with me more–

DAMN IT, WHY DID THE DREAM HAVE TO END THERE?!?

ask-francis-kinloch  asked:

I found your story about "THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN IN THE WORLD" and I though "Gosh damn. I must follow this person. It is a necessity of my very being." So I'm scrolling though your "molly writes things" tag and I find your story about Snow White the Vampire Thing, which is a story I had found and loved in the past. And??? I'm not sure why I didn't follow you then but your writing??? Gives me life????????

hahahaha thank you!!! you MAY be glad to know that i am making that second story into a book! alternatively you may be unglad to know it bc it’s possible i’ll ruin the whole thing. WHO KNOWS! LIFE’S AN ADVENTURE.

anonymous asked:

What is your favourite era for each individual member?? I know it's difficult but I'm curious lol - jisoostananon

God why must you ask me such a difficult question 😫 (this based on physical appearances only, not musically. Music wise most of these answers are very different)

Coups: Check In (it’s an era fight me). That’s the era I truly fell in love with him.
Jeonghan: Aju Nice bc his hair was soooo long and beautiful and just ugh yes 😍
Shua: Pretty U because thAT UNDERCUT DESTROYED ME LIKE WOW SHUA PLZ BRING THAT BACK THANKS
Junnie: Highlight because damn. Just damn. Like DAMN!!!
Hoshi: Mansae cause my son was a handsome squish and loved his hair so much.
Wonwoo: Pretty U cause those glasses were so cute (but also Boom Boom cause I fucking loved his green hair)
Woozi: Boom Boom bc boi he looked damn good and nothing like a smol child at all
DK: Aju Nice cause reasons I don’t need to go into 👀
Mingyu: It’s a tie between Mansae and Check In. They were both fine ass looks for him 😩
Minghao: Highlight cause wow yeah he just wow hnnng it hurt.
Seungkwan: Adore U was suuuuuuch a good look for him like he literally looked like art throughout that era
Vernon: Check In he was slaying everyone including myself.
Dino: Boom Boom he’s starting to become a very handsome young man and this era his glow up has begun to settle in like he is an actual art piece with them high cheekbones

Blooming Flower (Oswald Cobblepot x Reader Fluff One-Shot)

@just-dreaming-for-now gave me following fluff prompt: I always like imagining that when Oswald was staying in Nygma’s bed after being shot, his best female friend came to visit/comfort him. Then, he breaks down to her about his mother’s death and how he feels like he’s defeated. Eventually, maybe she cuddles with and consoles him and assures him he’s not alone, leading him to admit his feelings for her.


Warnings: None, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Doubts (Oswald), Love Confessions, First Kiss


Originally posted by crowned-in-october

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The Phantom of the Opera

Request: A really cool imagine would be one based on “The Phantom of the Opera” and the reader is Christine and Pan and Newt are the Phantom and Raoul…

Warnings: AU, long!!!

Note: I love you because Phantom is one of my favorite musicals, and I might have squealed reading this request! Also, this is going to be based off the 2004 Movie because I just watched it haha

The year was 1870, France. You had gotten a place in a Broadway production at the famous Opéra Populaire. You were a chorus girl, no one special. Just a background character. But still, you were glad to be on the stage, dancing and singing. 

As the lead soprano in the opera, Carlotta, rehearsed before the night’s performance, the backdrop collapsed out of nowhere. Being the prima donna Carlotta was, she blew things out of proportion. You heard multiple whispers from backstage about the incident being caused by the ‘Phantom’ that haunted the Opera House. You’d heard many rumors about him, yet you still knew so little.

“I refuse to continue!” Carlotta shouted, walking off. The newest owners, Firmin and André, panicked. No one could hit Carlotta’s notes. No one was as gifted or talented as her. Except for you.

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Bridget Regan rant!

Why must Bridget play beautiful, psychotic lesbians (I’m just gonna go with Dottie being thirsty AF for Peggy)?! The set up for these relationships is SO GOOD but you know her character can never be with the other woman!!!

Damn it! I need her kissing ladies on my screen more!!

Disclaimer:
In case this seemed like a mad rant, it’s not. Maybe I’ll rename it “Petition for Bridget Regan to be ½ the lesbian couple on every TV show ever!” I love her.

Coffee Candy - Eisuke Ichinomiya

Summary: He owed her a lifelong debt. Little did she know that it all started with a piece of candy. Childhood friend AU.

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: MC/Eisuke

a/n: Man, it’s been a while since I wrote. School has been keeping me so busy, but I’m glad I managed to come up with this! I hope you guys enjoy it. This is for the otome contest 2015!


I.

Eight years old.

               She had no idea how they became friends.

               She supposed it all started one day at school, when the teacher had been giving out candy as a reward for finishing the class play.  Luckily for her, she got a piece of coffee candy, her most favorite one.

              Unwrapping the little treat, she was about to gobble up the sweet until she noticed someone sulking at the back of the classroom. She could feel the waves of Eisuke’s sullen mood from where she stood. The arrogant little heir was too pigheaded to participate in ‘stupid group activities’ like the class play, so he was the only one who didn’t get any candy.

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Ice and Cold

Ao3 Mirror: Link

Summary: Sans always hides his feelings. He pushes them down as deep as he can until he can deal with them on his own later. Then he puts on a lazy grin so that no one can question what’s wrong.

Well. He tries to, anyway. Life doesn’t always give him a chance to hide. The feelings can end up bubbling and escaping without his permission. And he ends up making decisions that will affect him for a very, very long time.

—————————————————

Sans hadn’t initially meant to wander the ruins. He’d only needed a place to get away from the palace. From the well-intentioned monsters offering their sympathies when they were also hurting. From the memories that threatened to suffocate him. The ruins were far enough away that it made it difficult to run into anyone that had known his siblings directly. Which was exactly what the royal skeleton wanted.

Pink slippers kicked at bright red leaves as he walked. There was a part of him that wanted to stop and rest, but most of him knew that if he did so for too long his thoughts would inevitably turn to how much he missed Gaster and Chara. It was like a hole in the universe existed where they both should have been. He kept trying to listen for their voices echoing down the halls, and half expected to see their shapes as he turned a corner. Sans could feel another, far more painful hole deep within him. It was a constant companion since his siblings had died. He mused that it was ironic that he felt empty when he was already a skeleton. A harsh noise came from his permanent (though at the moment small and sad) grin. It was the closest thing to a laugh that he’d come to in months.

Another noise caught his attention. Small feet crunching on old leaves. Someone was here? He glanced around before realizing that the sound was coming from around the next corner. Sans eased himself along the wall and carefully peered ahead. His eye sockets widened at the sight. A small human child, smaller even than Chara had been, slowly limped their way through the room. They wore a bright red ribbon in their messy black hair and held a plastic knife to their chest. Perhaps they meant to defend themself with it. A shade of red similar to the ribbon dripped from the child’s knee to their soiled socks. This and tears in their clothing indicated that they had fallen. The child opened their mouth and a small, pleading voice came from it. “H-hello? I need help.” They inhaled shakily. “P-please? I-is there anyone here?”

A pang came from Sans’ ribcage. If he hadn’t shown up…now wasn’t the time to think about that. The skeleton took a breath to calm himself down, easing his face into a lazy grin. It wouldn’t have the same warmth that he had shown to Chara, but it was the best he could quickly come up with. He folded his hands into his dark sleeves to hide how they shook and coolly took the corner as if he hadn’t noticed the human calling out. They let out a screech, falling backwards onto a small pile of leaves. He briefly wondered what he’d done wrong when he remembered that Chara had given a similar reaction when they first met him. Sans gave the child an apologetic smile as he slowly walked toward them. They backed away into a nearby wall, panting.

“There’s nothing to worry about, kiddo. I’m friendly. My name’s Sans.” He stopped moving, content to wait for them to approach him. Or give him permission to approach them. The child eyed him up and down, stopping at his bright pink slippers with a puzzled expression before looking back at his hooded face. Sans made himself smile a little wider. “You must’ve fallen down here. It’s a good thing I was just about to check on that area.” He hated to lie, however small, but the child was already terrified. What good would it do to make them feel worse about their situation?

Now the child piped up. “So you can take the human soul you find there?” Their whole body was tense. They didn’t seem to be able to stand now that they were in something like a sitting position against the wall. The plastic knife lay forgotten near the path. Sans gripped at his wrist bones, thankful that the child couldn’t see him react to their words.

“Why would I need a human soul?” He gave himself a mental pat on the back for keeping his tone even and calm. The child stared at him blankly.

“You’re a monster,” They said this as if he hadn’t noticed something so obvious. It was kind of cute to hear it from such a small human. “And monsters all want human souls…right? That’s what my grandpa always says.”

It took everything Sans had to not roll the lights in his eye sockets at the old human propaganda. “I don’t want a human soul. I’m fine wandering the Ruins here.” The human continued to stare at him in confusion. “I only want to help you, kiddo. You’re hurt and not all monsters around here are as nice as I am.” There had to be a way to convince them that he was harmless.

It wasn’t that Sans didn’t trust other monsters. The skeleton was actually convinced that most monsters wouldn’t follow his brother’s edict to kill all humans that had fallen underground. He was mostly concerned about those who had taken the anguished declaration too seriously. Papyrus had been hurting. Everyone had been hurting. It was his duty to say something to help his people, even if he didn’t mean it. If Sans took the human back to the palace, they could become their guardians. Family. No, it wouldn’t be the same but it’d be something. Maybe that would help close the hole inside him.

He suddenly had a better idea of how to explain what he was doing in the Ruins. “You could say I’m a-guardian the humans around here.” Sans winked. The child slowly blinked at him. He needed to work on his puns. It’s no fun when your audience can’t understand where you’re going with your wordplay. “Uh, that is, I’m the Guardian around here.” That was a close enough explanation for what he was. There would be plenty of time to explain his real role in the underground later. The kid was probably getting overwhelmed. Their grey eyes became the size of saucers.

“A guardian angel?” They spoke with reverence. Sans’ smile twitched a little wider. He’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be seen as the coolest, “bestest” person in the room.

“Close enough. I can heal.” He removed a hand from the sleeves of his robe and surrounded it with blue energy. His eyes glowed with the same color as the magic he was manipulating. The child stared at the display. For the first time since he’d met them, they smiled. He forced himself to not think about where the gaps in their teeth might have come from. “All I wanna do right now is fix you up. Is that okay?” After a moment of considering, they nodded. Sans carefully made his way to the child’s side and kneeled down to get a good look at their injuries. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d thought. He waved a hand close to where he’d seen the scrape. “This is gonna tickle a bit.” He warned the kid as he let the healing magic get to work. They let out a startled gasp as the flesh pulled itself together and became smooth. Sans let the magic spread throughout the child’s body, checking for anything he’d missed earlier. What was left were a few minor cuts and bruises. They had been really lucky.

When the skeleton was finished, the kid looked themself over and touched where they had previously been hurt. As soon as they were satisfied, they looked up at him once again. “Thank you.” The fear they had shown him earlier was completely gone. It reminded him of a very similar, just as grateful thanks he had received what felt like a long time ago. Sans’ metaphorical heart skipped a beat. He forced himself to focus on the present.

“Right. So. I’m, uh, gonna take you to my old house. I’m sure you’re really tired from everything that’s happened today, yeah?” The child had stood up, testing the newly healed knee. He remained on his own kneecaps, keeping a grip on his dark robe. It wouldn’t help anything if he lost it right then. “If you’re hungry I can make you a hot pocket.” They stopped what they were doing to smile at him again. Sans kept a lazy grin on his face. “You like those, huh? And then after that I’m gonna hafta leave you alone for a little bit.” Before the child could protest, he kept talking. It was against his nature, but necessary. “Just for a little while! I need to bring someone that’ll really wanna meet you.”

The kid pondered this with their arms folded and their cheeks puffed out. Finally, they seemed to reach a decision. “Promise you’ll be back, though?”

Sans was very familiar with what to do here. He took a hand from his robe and extended his pinkie to them. “I promise.” Satisfied, the child wrapped their own, much smaller finger around his.

Now you can’t break your promise, ever! A voice he hadn’t heard in a long time echoed inside his skull. His other pinkie twitched, trying to feel for the weight of a child that should be there. The skeleton pushed the memory aside. He could deal with it later. After the kid had been taken care of. While they waited, he would head back to the palace and tell his brother about the situation. The two of them would return to Home. Papyrus would take one look at the child and instantly want to take care of them. That’s how it would go, Sans felt. Everyone would start to heal after this, he was sure of it.

—-

The plate broke upon impact with the ground. Papyrus stood over the crumpled body of the human child. In his hands were a glass container, holding a light blue colored soul. His eyes were closed, his expression sorrowful. Sans would only remember seeing that image much later. His focus in the moment was entirely on the child’s body. And the all too familiar wound. He felt cold. Like his soul had started to freeze over. Sans didn’t wait for his voice to stop shaking before he spoke. “Why…did you…”

Papyrus kept his eyes closed. “All humans who fall underground must die. Their souls will be gathered so that we may one day destroy the barrier and return to the surface.” He held the container tighter. The older skeleton clenched his fists.

“Papyrus, this isn’t right,” Sans could feel his bones start to rattle with how angry he was. His spoke slowly, making sure his every word counted. “I know you’re hurting, but that doesn’t mean you need to kill humans.”

“I need to do what is best for our kingdom, Sans. Have you not seen how much happier our subjects are now that they have hope?” Now the younger skeleton’s eyes were opened. He turned to face his brother and stepped away from the body. “For the first time in a year I have seen smiles on the most despondent of monsters. Is that not worth any cost?”

Sans didn’t know he could still feel new kinds of pain while he was suffering from losing Gaster and Chara. Now he knew. His eye sockets were dark, reflecting his emotions. “Even if the cost is a kid. A young kid. Who had a family. Who could have been–” He choked on his words. That possibility was long gone now. “I don’t care that this was for the kingdom. Just because you lost your own siblings, it doesn’t give you the right to take away someone else’s family.” Papyrus could only hold his brother’s gaze for so long before he had to look away.

“The humans killed him, Sans. G–” The king took a breath. “Our brother is dead because of them.” So he was using that excuse. He sounded less like a king and more like a child.

“Our OTHER sibling was human. Did you forget that in your rush to kill?” Sans mocked with a humorless grin. His eye lights were still out.

Now it was Papyrus’ turn to sound angry. “They had no love for humans. They had clearly seen how cruel humans can be. Even on their deathbed Ch–” Again, he paused while attempting to say the name of a dead sibling. Again, he continued without saying it. “Our sibling only wished to see the flowers of their village. They said nothing of whatever family they might have had before falling. For all intents and purposes, our sibling was one of us.” Papyrus indicated the container in his hands. “This sacrifice will be small in comparison to what we have already lost. As soon as I have the rest of the souls then we can take back the surface. Our siblings’ lives will not have been lost in vain.” Sans couldn’t help but give a derisive snort.

“Both of them are GONE, Papyrus. Nothing can fix that. Especially not murdering MORE kids.”

“I still have to try. For our kingdom.” It was so obvious that the king was trying to convince himself as well as Sans. That only made the older skeleton angrier.

“You mean for yourself. It’d be one thing if you were planning on getting back those that killed G–” He couldn’t bring himself to say the name either. Papyrus reached out a hand towards his older brother, only for Sans to step back. “Those that killed him. But how do you know that this kid was even connected to those people? Or that any other humans that fall down here will be?” The younger skeleton hesitated, staring at the light blue soul in his hands. For once, he had nothing to say. Sans turned on his heel and headed toward the nearest opening. Papyrus called after him. He didn’t bother answering.

He had to get away. If Sans couldn’t convince his brother to change his mind about his decision, no one could. The Boss Skeleton opened the door to his room harder than he’d intended, but he continued to move. He packed away as many essential things as he could think of. Everything he didn’t need could be left behind. Papyrus could deal with it. The very thought of his still living brother pained him, but his anger motivated the normally lazy Sans into action. When he was finished packing, there were two things he realized he needed to do. First, he tore half of the calendar of the year that Chara had fallen underground and stored it with his things. Second, he paid a visit to the basement.

The former storage area was far too quiet. Silence had taken over since the Royal Skeletons had interred Chara there, but this was somehow far more oppressive. A stone casket carved with the name and soul color of the adopted royal sibling was to be the only feature in the new crypt. This wasn’t the case anymore.

Sans could feel his soul grow even colder at the sight of the second identical container adjacent to his sibling’s. A quick glance further into the room confirmed his suspicions. Five other slabs had defiled this place, along with the tools to shape the stones to hold more dead children. There was nothing more he could do for the child with the light blue soul (he tried desperately to remember their name but the horror of what his brother had done still filled him). He could, however, save his sibling from spending an eternity with his brother’s sins.

While usually slow in his movements, Sans quickly used some magic to push the lid of Chara’s coffin. Once the gap was wide enough to reach inside, he did so. The skeleton tried not to think about how light the body was. Or how cold his sibling was now. After making certain the wrappings around the human were secured, Sans used his magic to float his luggage next to him as he walked away from New Home. He didn’t encounter a single soul as he made his way out of Capital.

Humans buried the bodies of their dead, Sans remembered. He resolved to find a place to properly lay his sibling to rest. Away from the brother he thought he knew.

——–

It was Toriel’s favorite part of the day. As soon as she parted ways with her over enthusiastic brother, the goat monster walked in the entirely opposite direction of where she was supposed to go. Sure TECHNICALLY she had a job to do, but what Undyne didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. Using a couple of carefully placed shortcuts, she found herself in front of the stone door just in time. She smiled and knocked on it a couple of times.

The male voice on the other side was there, same as always. “Who’s there?”

“wanda.”

“Wanda who?”

“wanda hang out right now?”

He chuckled. “With you? Always.” This time he knocked.

“who is there?”

“Broken pencil.”

“broken pencil who?”

“Forget it, this joke’s pointless.” Toriel laughed along with the old man and plopped down in her usual spot by the door. They exchanged jokes and news about each other’s lives as they sat together as usual.

This little routine was the best thing that had happened to her in recent years. (Okay, it was tied for first with how awesome her brother was.) The goat monster could talk and talk for ages and the old man on the other side of the door would listen. Really listen. That and his excellent sense of humor made him that much more…she hesitated to use the word, but ‘important’ felt right. His voice was always calm and collected, but somehow it made the cold that much less noticeable. She liked to think that she helped him out too by being here. Even if she didn’t contribute much more than some stupid jokes.

Today, though, something about her joking buddy seemed off. He wasn’t laughing as hard as he usually did. When Toriel talked about Asgore, he didn’t pay nearly as much attention as he normally would. His quiet voice was even softer than she’d come to expect. And now the old man hadn’t responded to her for a while. Maybe he fell asleep? She wouldn’t put it past him from how lazy he sounded, but this was pretty sudden. Toriel knocked on the door between them. “old man? you still there?” She could hear a shifting of cloth on the other side. “did i startle you?”

“A little.” His voice was as calm as ever. The goat monster wished, not for the first time, that she could see his face to see if he was telling the truth. “I was thinking about the past.”

She kept her own tone light, though she had a million questions about what he could possibly be thinking about. “well at least you are quiet because of that and not my jokes. they are my bread and butter, i would hate if they had gotten stale.” He chuckled, a much milder reaction than what she was used to from him. Something was definitely wrong. Toriel took a breath and forced herself to ask the main question she had for her friend. “i hope…you do not mind my asking what about the past you are thinking about?” He went quiet again. She berated herself for even THINKING about asking such a personal question. They’d been having fun joking for this long and she’d gone and ruined it–

The old man’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “It was…about my brother.” Toriel let loose the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. He so rarely talked about either of his brothers. She didn’t know if it was to spare her any pain on his part, or just to mess around with her. He was fully capable of doing both. Either way, her curiosity was on fire.

“the one that likes your jokes or the one that hates them?”

“The one that hates them. I remembered this one time when we were young and he was convinced that there was a human living in our closet. No matter how many times mom and dad and I showed him that it was just a closet, he wouldn’t believe them. So one night I decided enough was enough and set up a trap in the closet before we had to go to bed. At around the time that he’d get up because he was scared of the closet human, I pretended like I heard something coming from there. He thought I was really scared, so he went and opened the door to face the human. And, ah, got a face full of flour that I’d stolen from the kitchen instead. He was so mad…but he forgave me, eventually.” He spoke in a way that made Toriel turned her head to look at the door. During their time together she had grown accustomed to his calm state of being. Which occasionally broke in favor of full on laughter when she told an especially terrible joke. Here…he sounded wistful. Nostalgic. She couldn’t help but wonder if a funny story was all he had been thinking about.

There was a small part of her that wanted to change the subject. It would be a lot less stressful for them to continue to tell stupid jokes through the door between them forever. Toriel didn’t even know his name, or even what he looked like. It wasn’t any of her business to pry into his life. Except…she wanted to learn everything she could about him. The old man actively listened to Toriel’s rambling stories about what she and Asgore got up to. He’d helped her work through her problems when she felt at her lowest and most frazzled. She couldn’t just leave him out in the cold when he himself was feeling down. If he could manage to cool down the flames of her anxiety, then the goat monster could do her best to warm up the ice inside him. Still, she hesitated as she spoke. “old man…do you still…miss him?”

Silence came from the door. Toriel started to feel the cold seep into her body despite her fur and hoodie. Just as she was about to apologize, he spoke. He was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear him despite her long ears. “…y-yeah. Sometimes…I really do.” A small amount of cloth shifted behind the door, though she might have been hearing things considering that she was now grasping the front of her hoodie tightly. His volume only increased slightly, but it was as if a dam had sprung a leak. The old man’s words trickled out, bringing forth the vast loneliness she’d only briefly sensed in previous meetings. “I’ll…think of a joke that I know he’d hate and I still almost call out his name. I have…whole conversations in my head about what I’m doing where he’s there. I’ll figure out that a b-birthday is coming and have the urge to…to…” Toriel only heard the end of his sentence because she’d pressed her ear against the door. “…go…home.”

Her heart hurt. They were so close, and yet they might as well be a thousand miles away. Lacking the ability to give the old man a warm hug and tea, she knocked on the door between them. He seemed to choke, and she felt even worse for starting up their routine when he’d been crying.

Thankfully, he managed to reply. “Who’s…there?”

“orange.”

“…Orange who?”

“orange you glad you have someone to talk to, then?” The old man chuckled very briefly. She could hear cloth shifting again. He was probably using his sleeve to wipe his face. Toriel continued to chat to pretend like she didn’t hear that. “i know you do not like to talk about why you are behind the door…but did something happen? with your joke hating brother?”

The goat monster was really starting to hate these silences, no matter how short they were. “Let’s…just say that he did something that…I just couldn’t stay and watch go on. I got away and just…stayed away. Put down roots, settled in…almost felt like it was fruitless for a while there.” Toriel winced.

“that was too much of a stretch.”

“Sorry I’m not all that flexible. I’m out of practice, you see.” She could swear she heard a wink in that sentence, somehow. At least he was feeling better, though her face was flushing a little. “Anyway. If you have anything else to ask, you might as well go for it. I’m in a talking mood for once.” Despite his words, Toriel could sense that the old man would continue to avoid names when it came to specific topics. She didn’t care. It was her turn to listen to what he had to say.

She’d wanted to start off with an easier question, but a mix of being unable to think of any other questions and having this rare opportunity to ask had her blurt out, “do you hate him?” The goat monster mentally kicked herself but it was too late to back down now. “your brother?”

“Starting with the big one, huh?” The old man’s tone was amused, despite how serious the question was. “Nah.”

She blinked. “no?”

Toriel could hear a quiet tapping through the stone door. Fingers (or claws) against stone, if she had to guess. “It’s not that I hate him. It’s that I love him so much that I couldn’t stay to watch him become something he’s not supposed to be. If anything I hurt worse BECAUSE I love him. Since I can’t stop him from doing what he’s doing.” He’d clearly been thinking about this for quite a long time.

“i don’t get it. he did whatever it was that made you come here but…you still forgive him?” The very idea was baffling.

“Loving someone and forgiving them are two very different things. You’ve goat to learn the difference between the two.”

She didn’t bother commenting on the pun. “what do you mean by that?”

“Heh, you’re young. It’s kinda hard to really explain, but…” He shrugged. She could hear the shrug in his voice. “Basically it’s still possible to care about someone, even when they’ve done something you’re absolutely opposed to. Even after all this time, I care about him as my brother even if I’m not ready to forgive him for what he’s done.”

This statement made Toriel pause and mull the thought over. After a moment or two, she responded. “i do not know if i could ever forgive anyone that did something that i hated that badly. not even asgore.” It hurt to say it, but she owed the old man the truth. For a brief moment she had a sense of déjà vu. As soon as the man on the other side of the door spoke again, the feeling vanished.

“Well that’s fine for you. I won’t judge. You’re allowed to stay mad at someone if they did something bad enough. Me…I guess I’m just too lazy to really be angry for long.” Something about the way he said that made her wish that she could just destroy the door. Since she couldn’t hug him, Toriel got up and hugged herself. “Hey. Change of topic but there’s something I wanna ask you.”

“what is it?”

“You’re a sentry, right?” She blinked in surprise for the second time this meeting.

“yeah…?”

“If…a human comes through…promise me you’ll look after them?” Well that was a weird question. There was something about the question that put Toriel on edge…but she couldn’t refuse him. When would a human come through anytime soon, anyway?

“i promise.”

——————————————————

Notes: So I’ve been struggling to write something angsty like this for…quite a while now. I’ve got another fic I’ve been trying to write up that’s got similar themes but this AU really gets me thinking. And, uh, writing. Be on the lookout for another sad fic with more sad headcanons from me in the near future (I hope).

Most of the headcanons here can also apply (with some differences due to personality of course) to what I think about when it comes to main universe Toriel (who is great and wonderful and flawed) and Asgore (also great and wonderful and flawed and sad and I want to hug him the poor guy) but this AU struck me in particular because I’ve been in a similar situation to AT!Sans and AT!Papyrus. Namely because I lost my younger brother, and can identify with that kind of pain more readily.

I do exaggerate a little, but the thoughts and feelings I describe here are loosely based on my own that have occurred over the past two years. I’d wanted to write more about Sans missing Gaster, but I think this turned out pretty well. Hopefully my words can help those who also struggle with grief. For those who haven’t felt a significant loss in your life, I hope this helps you understand it a little better without having to suffer through it yourselves.

I’m not looking for condolences or sympathy, although either or is appreciated. I made this fic for me, and if other people like it too then I’m fine with it.

I’m not gonna elaborate on how my brother died in a public space, so if you want to ask me about it just head on over here.

Thank you friisans for this lovely AU that is fun to think about, even when the thoughts turn sad.

Daydream Nation Part 7

Pair : Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader

Music : Crazy in Love by Beyonce

A/N : Sorry for the late update, but here it is!! Hope you enjoy!! 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Warning : SMUT! Cursing, and angst

Its been a month since my last encounter with Dean. Sure we would see each other in class, but that was it. Never once did I talk to him. Or talk to him longer than I should. It was nothing more than any other student/teacher relationship, and it killed me. 

But nothing could happen. He had a girlfriend, and he was a lot older. Whatever I feel for him, its nothing more than just a fantasy. 

The class has come to an end, and everyone began to swarm out into the hall. 

“Caroline, may I have a second?” Mr. Winchester exhaled, rolling his sleeves up. 

Both you and Caroline shared a long glance. She looked nervous, baffled even, not knowing why he wanted to see her. 

his eyes met mine for a moment, causing my breath to hitch to the back of my throat. why must he be so damn gorgeous!

—————————————-

(Deans POV)

I watched Y/N walk out of the class. Her hair was let loose, falling over her shoulder. She looked tired, annoyed even, but she was still so beautiful. 

Its hard to focus on anything else but her. Especially when i have to stand in front of the class and lecture about World War II, and I could feel her staring right at me. If only things were simple. Just a girl who was of age, who I knew wouldn’t get hurt if I got too close. 

But that wasn’t the case. 

“Hello? Mr. Winchester? Did you hear me?” Caroline muttered, interrupting my thoughts. 

“Oh Caroline, yes uh I wanted to talk to you about-” I took in a deep breath, As much as I wish I could ask her about Y/N, Know how shes doing. It wasn’t my place to. 

“About your report on the Holocaust.” I improvised. 

“What about it? I hope I didn’t fail!” She croaked. “I worked so hard on that. I even stayed up for days just to make it perfect!” 

“No, it’s great! Dont worry. I just uh dont have a work cited paper from you, which I need to know where you got your information from.” I stated. 

She nodded slowly and furrowed her brows. “Huh, that’s funny, I am pretty sure I stapled it with the report. But I guess I will Retype it.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest and flashed a smile. “Thank you.” 

She turned on her heels and made her way to the door. But before walking out, she stopped in her steps and met my gaze. 

“You know, you should be ashamed of yourself.” She stammered. 

I was taken back for a moment, not understanding exactly what she meant. 

“W-what?”

“Come on Mr. Winchester, I knew all about you and Y/N.” She spewed out. 

My chest tightened, and I was at lost for words. I could feel my stomach begin to churn as her words stitched into my head. She knew all along. 

“And I had such high hopes for you two. She loved you. And I thought you loved her..” She whispered. 

I clenched my jaw shut, as a small lump formed in my throat. “I do love her, Caroline.” I stated. 

Her lips slowly curved up, but fell immediately after. “If you did, You wouldn’t have hurt her the way you did. You dont destroy someone and use them whenever the hell you want.” Her voice was stern, and she was right. 

I hurt Y/N in a way no man should ever hurt the person they love. 

“You’re right.” I hesitated. 

Caroline nodded and walked over to me. “Look, she’s my best friend and I know her more than she knows herself. She is still so in love with you. But she doesn’t want to admit it. If you love her like you say you do, then go after her.” 

Before I could say anything else, She left the classroom. leaving me alone to my thoughts. 

Y/N is still in love with me? Caroline is right. I have to find her, make everything right before its too late. Before I lose her forever. 

I ran out the classroom, my legs felt heavy like in a dream. I pushed myself, in hopes to find her. To find Y/N. 

Passing through the doors that lead out to the parking lot, I saw her in the corner of my eyes. Making me stop in my place, I was mesmerized by her. Like always, I was in awe. Her hair was blowing in the wind as she sat on the curb, looking up at the sky. Her eyes were squinted, as she leaned on her hands.

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar voice croaked. 

There he was, Jason Dilaurentis. The handsome young fellow who almost every girl in the school drooled over. 

I watched as he pulled her up to him, running his hand over her face and pressing his lips to hers. 

It made my body cringe. Like a thousand spiders crawling up and down my spine. I couldn’t breathe. The girl I was so madly in love with, kissed another guy. A guy she could go out on dates with, someone who can be with her whenever and where ever. 

I know I should be happy, But it hurt more than anything. 

————————————-

I arrived to school earlier than usual. To drop off my science project, that was due yesterday, but I accidentally dropped it and had to redo EVERYTHING. 

I had never hated myself more than last night. I was so tired. I just wanted the day to be over. 

“Look, you better be gone before I get back tonight or I swear I will kick your ass!” A familiar voice muttered in the direction of Mr. Winchesters office. 

He sounded upset, something I’ve never heard from him before. 

I walked over to the door, hoping to hear more from him. 

“She isn’t going to find out Sam! I got it under control. Now you and Lisa better get out of my house or so help me Sammy!” 

I made a loud gasp, then placed my hand over my mouth. 

I turned away, hoping to be as far way as possible but it was too late. 

“Y/N?” Dean hesitated, furrowing his eye brows. “What’re you doing here?” 

I locked my gaze with his, feeling my knees begin to weak. Its been so long since I have been alone with him, and yet he still managed to give me butterflies. 

“I-I uh had to turn in my science project.” I flashed a light smile. 

He slowly nodded and leaned his body against the door, never taking his eyes of me. 

My mind was swirling with different emotions, part of me wanted to slap him while the other wanted me to kiss him. But I also wanted to know exactly what he was talking about on the phone. Who did he mean when he said ‘She?’ 

“Who were you talking about on the phone?” I asked, feeling the heat escape my body. 

“Uh just an old friend.” He forced a smirk. “I see you and Jason are pretty close.” He sighed. 

Me and Jason? How did he-Why-what?! 

“Excuse me?” I stammered. 

He let out a soft chuckle, and shook his head. “Nothing. I better get back to grading some papers.” 

I opened my mouth to speak, but he slipped into his office, closing the door behind him. 

I could feel anger begin to wash over me. I was too tired, and I am not in the mood to be treated like nothing. I kept my cool about the other girl. I kept my distance, but now that I ask a simple question, he wants to shut the door in my face? No.

I pushed the door open, and stormed right in. 

“You dont get to do this. You don’t get to push me out.” My voice grew loud, as my body began to shake. I was furious. 

Dean sat up straighter in his desk. 

“I told you that I loved you. Something I have never done! And you fucked me over. I deserve so much more than this shit!” I yelped, feeling the knot tight and my eyes welled with tears. “I should hate you. I should be so angry, but I’m not because I love you Dean!” I croaked. 

His eyes were hard, locking onto mine as he made his way toward me. 

He looked angry, tired, sad even. No words were expressed, just anger. And I can tell, he was more than pissed. 

He pressed his hands on to my face, pulling me in and crashed his lips to mine. Our mouths moved in sync as our tongues grazed along each other. 

My hands traveled along his neck, as he picked me up and sat me on his desk. I pulled him in closer, making him stand inbetween my legs as I craved more of him. 

His lips traveled to my neck, down to my chest, following my torso down to my panties. I could feel myself begin to soak as he kissed along my thighs, driving me insane as he pushed my dress up with his hands. 

“Fuck.” I moaned. He pushed my panties aside, and gently placed his tongue over my clit. Slowly licking up and down. 

My body was filled with pure bliss as chills grew along my arms. 

The way his tongue felt against me, tasting me, I couldn’t breathe. For months I have wanted to feel him all over me, to feel him take me and show me how to love. 

I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling as he sucked and licked harder and faster. Taking me on a high. My breathing became heavy as I moaned out in pleasure. 

Dean propped up on his toes, and released himself out of his pants, no time for anything. He forcefully ripped my panties off, and pushed my dress up more, leaning himself into me. Slowly, I could feel him break through, my walls tightening around him. It hurt, but it was a good pain. I never wanted him more. My nails dug into him as he began to pump himself in and out of me. Increasing his speed, and pounding harder. He grunted out in the air, as he stared intently into my eyes. 

I could feel myself about to reach my peak. Our moans grew louder and our bodies molded as one. My heart was pounding profusely. 

“I’m going to cum!” He stammered, ramming himself inside of me. 

Our heads fell back as we both reached our climaxes. Letting himself go inside of me, I screamed out in pleasure, releasing myself along with him, my juice surrounding his hard throbbing cock.

A small chuckle escaped our lips as he fell on top of me. 

Our eyes met, and in that moment, the world stood still. 

“I love you too Y/N.” He whispered. “But we cant..” He stood up, pulling his pants up and returning my panties to me. 

“What? Why?” I exhaled, pulling my dress down. 

His eyes softened, as if he had lost something so important to him. “I-It’s complicated.” He hesitated. 

“Try me.” 

The door opened and Sam walked in. 

“Dean, Caroline’s in trouble!” He croaked. 

So, real? - Jensen Ackles x Reader (French Mistake in reverse or something? - Part 2)

Title: So, real?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word count: 3,452

Warnings: None

Read Part 1 here!

A/N: Might put this on every chapter like with ‘Oh Westy’ so here we go. I know he is married, and I know he is a real person whatsoever. But for the love of, this is only a story. I didn’t even imagine Jensen as I wrote the way he acted. To be honest I had to correct myself many times as I wrote or was about to write ‘Dean’. And it is not the first time. This also means no hate towards Danneel, after all we all love her I am sure. This is only a story.

“Mommy? Daddy?” her little voice was heard and your head snapped to her direction. She only stood there, holding with her one hand her teddy bear that seemed even bigger than her own self while she rubbed her eyes tiredly with the other one.

“Morning princess” Jensen smiled brightly while what you could only do was stare with almost wide eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Did we wake you up?” he asked a little concerned as the sound of her small bare feet on the floor could be heard.

“No” she said with a small shake of her head, her small blonde locks moving as well “But I got hungry” she said with a small pout of her lips.

You only stared in awe. How could you even utter a single word at this?

Keep reading

In For Real (Jay Park Scenario)

In which he proves he’s in for real.

Glancing at the scale on the floor you sigh again. At first you were angry and wanted to throw it out the window, but then it all washed away in a silent sadness that made you hide in the darkness of your room. Why was it so hard on you? Why couldn’t you stay motivated enough to keep yourself on the same track and not fall into temptation? Maybe it was something with your DNA…

The TV on mute plays Jay Park’s last MV, “My Last”. Sure, he’s sweet and goofy towards a girl perfect from head to toes. He’s not ashamed to declare his love towards her in crazy ways and glances since she’s looking as if she stepped out of the Vogue cover. Annoyed, you turn off the TV and stare into the darkness. If it weren’t for people imposing models for everything and anything, then being oversize wouldn’t be a problem. However people stare, people laugh, people point fingers believing all you do is eat fast-food and noodles all day long. But you jog, you drink over 2L of water per day and eat only home-cooked food, almost nothing fried. Do they know that? Of course not!

The blinking screen of your cell phone interrupts your thoughts.

“Hey, babe! ≧^◡^≦ I’m coming home! 🚘Want me to buy something on my way there? ᵔ.ᵔ says the text and you just stare at it. It would be great if he’d be there to hold you, caress you, tell you that everything was ok, that it was alright not to look perfect, that he still loves you. It hasn’t been long since you started dating and yet you know that he’d look at you with different eyes, as if measuring your fat. And that would be the last drop that would make you lose it.

“It would be better not to…” You type and press sent, lying on your bed in the darkness. Darkness is good, darkness doesn’t point fingers at you but engulfs you in absolute silence.

“What do you mean? Did I do something wrong? ૅ.ે

“Just… go back to your apartment! I’m not sure if I can handle Jay Park right now… sorry…”

ಥ_ಥ You see the screen blinking right before the phone starts ringing. “Babe…” His voice is low and persuasive.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Park Jaebum,” you clench your teeth to hold in your anger. “Listen, it’s not you, it’s me. So leave it, alright?”

“No,” he says calmly, “something’s wrong. Tell me, please! We promised we’d always be sincere with one another, didn’t we?” He makes use of that one day when you made the rules for your relationship.

You sigh deeply. “You always said it was my ass that attracted your attention. What if,” you unwillingly gulp, “I were fatter?”

“Would your ass be bigger too?” His laughter tickles your ear.

“Park Jaebum!”

“I don’t know why you’re asking that, but I would still be attracted to you, babe.” He’s serious, but you still doubt. “Your ass is just one of the bazillion of things I love about you. It wouldn’t matter if you’d be paper thin or obese to be honest.”

“Liar,” you whisper, tears rolling down your face. “Is that why you always rub yourself against model-like girls?! Because looks don’t matter, but what’s on the inside?! Damn, they must all have such beautiful souls then!” You yell at him before hanging up. And then you yell into your pillow, tears of frustration rolling down your face. All of a sudden, the darkness is no longer so welcoming, but you lay still, crying into the pillow with your fists closed tightly.  “It’s not fair! It’s not fucking fair!” You mumble, sobbing.

“Oh, babe,” the bed screeches a little as he sits down next to you.

“Leave me alone,” you retreat from him. “I told you not to come,” you quickly wipe away your tears, keeping your back turned on him. “Why did you come, Jay?”

Turning around you find him looking straight at you.

“What happened? Did I do something? Did I say something? I’m sorry,” he apologizes, reaching his arms to touch you. But you retreat, afraid that if he were to touch you, you’d break down again.

“You really want to know what happened?” You whisper, walking to the bedroom’s door. “That happened!” You point at the scale on the bathroom’s floor. “This happened!” You pinch your belly fat. “It happened that I gained weight and my jeans no longer fit me. It happened that I was so happy in my cocoon that I didn’t even realize when it happened. It happened that I gained weight right after you said you’d reveal our relationship. I can’t go anywhere with you looking like this!”

“Why?”

“Why you ask?! Because people will point their fingers at me and whisper and mock you because let’s be honest, I’m nothing like that girl in your last MV and you could always date someone like that. Which you should do,” your wipe away your rebel tears with the back of your hand. “I don’t want you to be ashamed with me, Jay. I’ve never been skinny or even slim, but right now I feel like a pig. And people –”

“Fuck people!” He frowns, approaching you. “I don’t care what people say. They’re not important. They’re not the ones making me laugh when I’m down, they’re not the ones that take care of me when I’m sick or that look at other than my looks and money. It’s all you. They can say whatever they want and long as you’re comfortable with being yourself, I am more than happy, babe,” his hands on your cheeks don’t allow you to move from under his graze.

“I wish I looked like that girl from your MV,” you avert your eyes, “I hate myself.”

“Don’t you ever say that, alright?!” Jay’s hands force you to look at him as he wipes away your tears. “There’s nothing wrong with you. This,” you feel his warm palm on your belly, “is you. And it’s beautiful. This,” his hand stops on your hip, “is you as well. And it’s just as beautiful as this or this or this… or this,” lastly, his hand returns from your chest to your face. “There’s no wrong and right in beauty. And people don’t matter,” he shushes you down when you open your mouth to protest, “all that matters is what you think about yourself. If you are okay with how you look, you dress, you speak, then they don’t matter. And I would love you no matter what. Because you’re you, the one I fell in love with. And your ass doesn’t count,” he smiles cheekily.

“I still wish I were slimmer,” you sigh, closing your eyes in his embrace.

“That’s something we can do together if you want,” he smiles genuinely. “We could go to the gym together. C’mon! It will be fun!” His eyes sparkle. “I never told you, but I won’t ever let you down and I am going to help you achieve all you dream of,” his fingers intertwine with yours. “Sorry, but I’m in for real and there’s no escape.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the most beautiful confession I ever heard or the most scary threat,” you laugh, realizing that he’s sincere despite his cheeky smile.

Chapter One

June 24, 2009

Zaya

Here I was posted by the bar chillin’, sipping on my second Long Island Iced tea when I noticed him. Visions was packed as usual but somehow he managed to catch my eye and keep my attention from even though he was on the other side of the club. I could tell just by looking at him, he was a boss. You could feel his confidence exude through the entire club, plus the way he had people damn near running just to get out of his way confirmed it.

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Why

Being part of a fandom with a non canon ship is exhausting. Because can find awesome fanart and fanfiction, but you can’t hide.
Also I never planned on shipping a ball of sunshine with an ex assassin. Thanks a lot Hunter x Hunter. Or a smol orange and a tall blueberry. (Why haikyuu? Why aren’t they married?) WHY MUST ALL NON CANON SHIPS BE SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL.
So together, we shall struggle for the time when phan or johnlock will be canon. So I guess it’s ok.

stackninigi  asked:

Hi. A humble request for the 5 sentences thing. Dramione. Curiosity killed the cat, Granger.

The Wrong Strain

“Curiosity killed the cat, Granger.”

Hermione almost leapt back from the book she’d been eyeing.  Narcissa Malfoy had let her into the library to wait, her customary sneer curling her lip.  She’d wanted to tell the woman that was likely to create wrinkles, but this meeting was too important and she didn’t want to get thrown out before she’d even had a chance to talk to Malfoy.

Not that she really had much hope.  Her best prediction was that he’d listen to her, laugh with delight, and tell her he’d send flowers.  Then he’d show her the door and she’d go home and see how long potions could stave off the inevitable.  Harry swore he could use Snape’s old textbook to brew a better remedy than the one she could buy at the apothecary, but she could already feel the itch of her heritage between her shoulders. A better potion might buy her an extra month, but that was all.

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4

We must swear a pirate’s oath […]

Crème de la Crème: 22

Tish

 My face scrunched up at him. I tried to mentally tell myself that he had a right to be mad but I just couldn’t just stand here and let him talk to me all crazy.

“First of you need to lower your voice and shut the fuck up! There’s a child in the house.” I wasn’t about to let Martez upset my child because he couldn’t control himself

Hazel couldn’t take a whole lot of yelling, it made her nervous and causes her to have meltdowns. Her doctor said it was due to her being a preemie.

She was a sensitive child and my house was a new environment for her and I didn’t need her to have bad memories here.

“I was about to give you the benefit of the doubt because I know I was wrong for keeping this from for so long, but fuck you!” I said pushing his chest with my hands making him stumble back “You’re the reason you don’t know about you daughter. I was trying to save you from the heartache that I had to face.” I said

“What heartache, you mean from you lying about you losing my kid just so you could keep her from me. That can really take a lot of of a person, huh?” he said sarcastically

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