yeah he looks bad

Why Do You Keep Apologizing! (Theo Raeken Imagine)

Here’s a Teen Wolf Imagine!

It’s actual rather longer than my usual, hope you don’t mind… I got carried away.

Requests are Open (Just bear with me)

I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Originally posted by stazlindesdaily

You were born to a family of angels. If someone thought goody-two-shoes people were terrible, imagine how it felt to sport wings that burned every time you lied and having to move nearly every month once you’ve served your purpose. 

Being an angel, you all had a specific purpose. And being part of a family, your family would spread across a town to spread positive energy throughout the people. No one could ever be in a bad mood if an angel was around… unless they’re so consumed by the darkness.

And once you stepped into Beacon Hills High School, you knew you found where you needed to go. You had a feeling you belonged to be there and it made your wings tingle underneath your jacket. You rolled your shoulders back and took a deep breath before setting off to find your locker. As you walked, there were multiple pairs of eyes on you. Not because you were an angel that just glowed (that’s actual a myth), but because there were other supernatural beings in that school that got a whiff of your scent. You just didn’t know that… yet. 

“She’s not human.” Malia whispered, looking over to Scott and Liam who understood her statement. “Her scent… it’s… different.” 

Scott nodded in agreement. “We don’t know if she’s a bad guy-” 

“Or girl.” Lydia interrupted. 

He looked over to her and nodded slightly. “Yeah… bad girl or not… We lay off her unless she proves to be a threat.” 

“Just keep your wolf and coyote eyes on her.” Stiles added. “Stay. Away.” 

“Well someone needs to tell Theo the plan.” Liam muttered. The pack looked over to what he meant. 

And there you were, standing next to Theo Raeken, struggling to open your locker which, coincidentally, was next to his. He stood stiffly as the doors were pushed open a breeze sweeping in, carrying your scent over to him which made it stronger. Fear struck him in his bones after registering what your scent was. “Are you here to punish me?” He thought aloud. 

You looked over to him as he hid his face inside his locker. “Excuse me?” You asked, politely. When there was no response, you decided to pat the young man on his muscly bicep. But then you saw darkness and a young woman tearing this boy’s heart out repeatedly. It was like a nightmare. You yelped as you pulled your hand away, immediately recognizing the feeling of darkness. It consumed him. 

You were standing in a daze as Theo slammed his locker shut and hurriedly walked away from you. Your eyes trailed him. 

In your first period, you introduced yourself to the teacher and was shown to a seat. There was an empty desk beside you and you couldn’t wait to attempt to befriend this new person. But fate decided to play against you as the boy from earlier sat next to you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, abruptly. “First you’re next to me in the morning, opening a locker that clearly wasn’t yours since you can’t even open the damn thing. And now you’re sitting next to me in my first period? I’ve never seen you a day in my life. So if-”

“I’m sorry if you got that impression.” You apologized. “I was told to sit here by the teacher. And as for the locker situation this morning, I honestly could not open the.. um… thing.” 

“Damn.” Theo repeated. You raised an eyebrow. “Say it.” You shook your head. Wings tend to painfully shed a feather or two if a curse word left your mouth. Growing feathers back was the true punishment. After a long period of silence and an intense staring competition, Theo finally said, “I know what you are. And I’m not going back.” 

“What?” You asked as the bell rang and class began. 

After the class, you chased after him but he immediately disappeared into the crowd of students. “What did this kid mean.” You asked aloud. 

It wasn’t until lunch time that you saw this mystery boy again. The two of you locked eyes across the room and he stood up to leave the cafeteria. You ran after him and just before he opened the doors to leave, you grabbed him. “Let go!” He said, shaking you off. 

“What did you mean you aren’t going back?” 

“Why do you care?” He shot back. “I don’t know you!” 

“My apologies… I’m-I’m..” You began, but he interrupted. 

Why Do You Keep Apologizing!” He screamed. “Demons don’t do that!” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You-you think I’m a demon?” You couldn’t even contain your laughter. His face sported a confused expression. “I apologize for my laughter. But I’m not a demon. My name is (Y/N).” You said, offering your hand. 

“Theo.” He muttered. “If you aren’t a demon, then what are you? ‘Cause you’re definitely not human.” 

“And I suppose neither are you.” You said with a playful smirk on your face. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Theo. I’m not here to harm you nor take you back to that girl.” He raised his eyebrows at you, wordlessly questioning you. “That girl in your nightmares. The one that tears out your heart.” 

“How did you-” 

“Angels are more than just wings and good deeds, Theo.” You said. “We have purposes as to why we arrive in cities… and I have a feeling my purpose is to rid you of your darkness.”

“Can you do that?” He asked, hopeful. You smiled warmly. 

“Of course.” 

I’m thinking about doing a 

part two

 Because this feels like it needs a part two. Wouldn’t you agree? 

Jaws - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky accidentally punches you in the face during a training session, which somehow leads to your first kiss and the promise of a date.

Warnings: Kissing.

Words: 1 328

A/N: Very boring drabble that is kinda similar to Lift in terms of the layout. Tell me what you think and please request!


Originally posted by you-didnt-see-that-cuming

She ducked under his punch, getting back up just as quickly and trying to elbow his chest. He grabbed hold of her joint and pushed her back. As she came rushing back in for a straight punch to his face, his metal hand flew right to her jaw.

She staggered back before falling to her knees. Her hair fell in front of her face and a few strands stuck to her glistening forehead, a long groan escaping her.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. I’m so sorry!” Bucky panicked, surprised as he thought she would have been able to see through his techniques as always and dodged his incoming attack.

He rushed to her side and knelt beside her, wrapping his arm around her back and using his free hand to remove the hair from her face. She whined in pain, trying to force a smile to not make him feel so bad but not being able to. “Okay, that one hurts… I’m not gonna lie.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He carefully tilted her head to get better lightning on her jaw which was red, bruising and already swollen. “Fuck. That’s bad.”

“I don’t know if it’s anything serious, but I can taste blood?” She looked up at him. “Maybe that’s just normal. Also, my left ear is ringing, or it might be my entire head actually, I can’t tell the difference right now.”

Bucky kept repeatedly mumbling curses as he softly placed his bionic hand over the bruise. She winced in pain at first but the cooling of the metal was better than not having it there at all.

“Remind me to wear a hockey helmet for our next training session or something…” She began to push herself up from the floor. Bucky tried to help her by continuing to hold his arm around her back, which turned out to be very helpful.

“Woah!” He exclaimed as she almost fell forward, his grip of her tightening and keeping her on her feet. “You okay?”

“I just got punched in the face with a hand that’s literally made out of metal. Pardon me if I’m a little dizzy.” She chuckled, her voice strained from the pain radiating up her jaw and numbing the area around it. She turned to face Bucky, her hand carefully touching the swollen bump. “Does it look bad?”


“No.” He lied. “It looks alright.”

“Liar.” She could see straight through him, of course. She always could. “Oh man, and Tony’s birthday party is this weekend.”

“That’s five days away.” Bucky tried to remain hopeful.

She looked over at him, her eyes hooded and her eyebrows raised high, circulating the area where he had punched her. “By the sheer agony I’m in right now, I can tell this isn’t going to go away in five days.”

“I’m sorry…” He pleaded and she dropped her sarcastic attitude, feeling bad for the poor guy.

“I know you are. It’s okay. I’ve had worse. Remember when I got shot in the damn hand in Serbia? When I had to drive the car to the hospital with that hand, the gear lever nearly went through the bullet hole.”

He chuckled after seeing her smile at the brutal recall of a mission two years prior.

“Or when you went two weeks in pain because you thought your body was “healing slowly”, when in reality you had a completely broken arm?” He remembered and she nodded, quietly chuckling before suddenly closing her eyes, grabbing his hand. She pulled it towards her jaw and held it still over, leaning into it whilst still not looking.

Bucky watched in admiration as she dozed off for a few seconds in the comfort of his touch.

“Alright. I’m gonna call this a day. It’s getting late, I think. You must have punched my sense of time out of me.” She smiled and broke loose from him, heading for the gym door slowly.

“Maybe sleeping isn’t that good of an idea? You could have a concussion!” He warned, worried about her health truthfully.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself.” She joked, making it seem as if giving her a concussion had been something Bucky had strived for. He wanted to oblige and take her to Bruce, or anyone else that might be awake at two in the morning and have the skill to properly help her. “So goodnight, or good morning, or whatever.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Bucky alone in the gym, feeling more guilty than ever.

He was sat at the kitchen table, eating the scrambled eggs which surprisingly enough, Vision had cooked. Steve sat across Bucky, Peter beside Steve, and Tony and Natasha on both short ends when Y/N came sulking down.

“Good morning- Jesus Christ.” Steve gasped as he got a look of her. “What happened to your face?”

The entire left side of her jaw was covered in a rich, purple bruise. As she smiled, she clearly did so more on the right side than the other. “Why don’t you ask Mr. I-Have-A-Metal-Arm?” She said, pointing to a Bucky.

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky repeated and she tried to smile wider but winced, letting it fall back.

“I know, Buck. Heard you the first, hundred, times.” She attempted to reassure him although it had little effect. “You better buy me something amazing to cover this up tho.”

“I don’t think anything can cover that up. That’s brutal.” Natasha said, her nose scrunching up in slight disgust at the vicious color of Y/N’s jaw.

“Thanks.” Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, and taking a seat by the table. Vision left the stove and came to her aid with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “And an honest thank you to you, Vis.”

“You want some ice for that?” Tony tried to help as Y/N grabbed the chilled glass of orange juice in front of her and held it against her jaw. She shook her head subtly and shut her tired eyes, propping her elbows on the table and leaning her head against her free hand.

“I’m good.” She said and pulled herself together, opening her eyes widely to wake up and taking a sip of the orange juice already by her mouth. “I’ll avoid training sessions with Bucky for awhile though.”

“I’m s-”

“Cut it. I’m alive, aren’t I? Still breathing. Heart’s still pumping.” She said and shoved a fork full of bacon in her mouth. The breakfast carried on, following up with an overly large glass of chocolate milk on Y/N’s part. They all chatted, bickering as usual, before everyone retreated to their own corner of the Tower  to continue their days separately.

As Y/N made it to her room, there were two knocks on the door. She didn’t have to guess who it was. She knew it was Bucky and she knew he would try to apologize once more.

She pulled the door open and barely had time to confirm it was him before a pair of soft lips crashed upon hers. She staggered backwards and Bucky broke loose, eyes blown wide. “Let me take you out to dinner, as an apology for punching you.”

“And you had to kiss me to ask me out!?” She questioned, out of breath. Bucky shrugged.“

“No, I just wanted to.” He said like it was the most normal thing in the world to walk around kissing.

“Well damn…” She closed the space again and savored another kiss, sighing in relief. She tried to not cause herself too much pain, letting him do most of the moving.


“Don’t you dare say that word one more time or I swear to god I’ll punch your jaw.” She threatened and he chuckled, lips hovering in front of hers.

“It wouldn’t leave as much as a scratch.” His lips curled around hers, tasting the sweetness lingering to them.

“You’re so cocky, you know that? It’s tiring.”


when your girlfriend calls you cute and validates your gender in one sentence

The Donation

Originally posted by daefsoul

wealthy!au; Himchan

When you’re struggling, sometimes a helping hand is appreciated. 

Caution: smut ahead.

You took a heavy breath as the usually busy lunch hour dwindled down. The once packed restaurant had gone down to less than eight patrons. And only one was in your section. “So much for paying those loans,” you sighed feeling slightly defeated.

You perked up at the sound of the bell on the door ringing. You glanced at the door sending a large smile at the familiar face of your favorite costumer, Himchan. He was always good to you, both as a person and in tips. A friendship formed quickly between the two of you. It didn’t help that you found him insanely handsome.

You made your way to his table, taking a seat across from him to give your sore feet a rest. “Howdy stranger,” you greeted.

He gave you his usual charming smile,“Hello beautiful. Anything good on the menu?”

“You always ask that, yet you always get the same thing.”

He chuckled, “Do I?”

Keep reading

Useless suggestion: The Drama Club except nobody is copying anyone and they all have a good colour scheme that doesn’t necessary portray who they are, and not all of them are snobbish bc one tiny part of the club doesn’t mean all the parts of the club


@literallywhothe omg that cute gif was so cute and then i wanted to draw everybody :,,,^)) 

//the one with akira and vlad is my fav omg look at them husbands

psst if you’re an artist remember to back up your brush settings/references/textures/etc somewhere from time to time!! you never know what could happen to your computer and it would be a shame to lose it all!


anonymous asked:

I love everything Natsume you've written, especially the ones tagged with Natsume protection squad, cause it's great to see them being protective of this adorable cinnamon roll. And a prompt: takashi isnt feeling well, but remembering how being sick has burdened his past fosters, he's reluctant to let anyone know. Bonus point for including nishimura and kitamoto.

“Na–tsu–me,” Nishimura says too brightly. “I have a question for you!”

Sensing danger, Natsume lifts his aching head slowly and eyes his classmate with all the wariness he deserves. “What is it?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you told Touko-san you didn’t have a fever,” he says, still oozing with that false sense of cheer, “when it’s pretty obvious that you do?”

“Nishimura,” he starts, realizing too late where this is going. Nishimura doesn’t give ground.

“I get the feeling that whatever you’re about to say isn’t some variation of ‘you’re so right, Nishimura, and I was so wrong!’ so I don’t really wanna hear it.”

“Since when are you Class Two’s mother hen?” another student asks with a grin. Her glance at Natsume is worried, though, because yeah, he looks that bad. Honestly, who was he trying to kid?

“Since sensei had Tsuji go run an errand,” he replies airily, waving a hand. “Natsume, seriously. Let me take you to the nurse’s station.”

“I’m fine,” he says – unconvincingly, since it comes out more of a wheeze. “The school day is half over, anyway, so – “

“So it doesn’t matter as much if you just take it easy.” Nishimura softens despite himself, leaning over to feel Natsume’s forehead with the back of his hand. “I mean – you’re kinda scaring me, you know? What if your fever fries your brain, or you dehydrate and pass out, or – “

“Nishimura,” Natsume says again, wearily, “none of that’s going to happen.”

“You’re so sick you can’t sit up straight,” he shoots back. “And you’ll faint on a good day! Sorry if I’m a little worried about you!”

His tone has Natsume lifting hooded eyes to meet his, and they’re hazy so it takes him a minute to parse the words – but then his brow wrinkles, and his mouth tugs into a frown, and he pushes himself up on his elbows from where he’d been draped bonelessly on top of his desk. 

“No, it’s not – “ he starts, and then loses the words. Frustrated with himself, he tries again. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I just – I didn’t want you to worry in the first place. I take up so much of Touko-san and Shigeru-san’s time already, and you guys – “

Nishimura wants to shake him. As it is, he leans over and grabs Natsume by the shoulders, as hard as he dares.

“Don’t you think we worry more when you push yourself too far without telling anyone and make yourself even sicker?”

“I know,” he mutters, “I know, Nishimura, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he replies smartly. “Are you ready to go to the nurse’s station?”

Because Natsume is probably the most stubborn person alive, his answer is a glance to the side, toward the window, and no verbal response. Nishimura shakes his head. 

“I thought so. That’s why I called in reinforcements.” 

“Nishimura, you didn’t – “

“If you won’t listen to me, I have no choice,” Nishimura says, spreading his hands apologetically. But he isn’t very apologetic at all, and it probably shows on his face if Natsume’s scowl is anything to go by. “Hey, you played yourself. You should’ve just come along nice and easy.”

The classroom door rattles open, and Tanuma’s framed in the doorway for all of a second. His eyes find Natsume across the room almost instantly, and his expression morphs into one it’s almost hard to look at. 

Resigned, Natsume stands and starts packing his bookbag. Tanuma lifts it out of his hands before he can string it over his shoulder, dark eyes equal parts gentle and steely, and looks ready to frogmarch Natsume down the hall if it comes to that, which is precisely what Nishimura was counting on. 

“This is bullying,” Natsume remarks dryly. His voice is hoarse and his eyes are overbright, but he still manages to sound cheeky. He’d manage to sound cheeky on his deathbed. Nishimura leans back in the chair he’d parked up by Natsume’s desk and beams at him, unrepentant.

“I’m comfortable with that. Maybe eventually you’ll learn to stay home and let your mom take care of you when you’re sick, and it won’t come to this anymore.”

Something self-conscious flits across Natsume’s expression, and if he wasn’t already flushed with fever, Nishimura would blame some of that high color in his cheeks on shame. 

It’s that, more than anything, that makes Nishimura lean over and catch him by the sleeve, tugging lightly. 

“We’re gonna take care of you whether you like it or not,” he says, not unkindly. “Just try to make it a little easier on everybody and let us. At least once in awhile. Okay?”

And Natsume softens. Smiles faintly when Tanuma puts a hand on his shoulder. Says, “Okay.”

He’s absent from school for the next two days. Kitamoto calls the house and Touko-san assures him Natsume’s doing much better after a visit to the doctor. Nishimura misses him, but he still considers it a win. 

A Different Mask

Hi this is bad but I’m posting it anyway

The world of the Phantom Thieves was a hilly one. There were challenges and calm, dangers and warm moments. But all the Phantom Thieves had one thing in common: they went through their pain together. They had been there for each other when nobody else possibly could be. When one Thief couldn’t be there, there was always another to help with whatever pain one had. They were, as they say, thick as thieves. All the Phantom Thieves had reached one unconscious conclusion, as well: none of them had been through as much as their leader. They all agreed on it, even if they didn’t know it.

Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

The group would always be there for each other. Akira knew that fully well. Yet he never leaned on them when things got rough in his head. They all relied on each other, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to put his problems on their shoulders. Whenever his confidence wavered in a Palace, the team was always hyping him up. But that’s all they saw.

They didn’t see his emotions outside the Metaverse. Those were his only secret. They didn’t know about his nightmares. They didn’t know the reason he listened to all of their problems was so they didn’t end up like him. He wanted them to have someone to turn to. So he locked his feelings away to be the cool and collected leader he was. Supposedly.

He kept his trauma inside. He kept the anger he felt when his friends were taunted and teased contained. He tried to make the comments from the kids at Shujin go in one ear and out the other. Whenever someone looked at him with that look of disapproval, he oh so tried to shake it off. But it all made him have days where everything just felt… numb. Like nothing he did mattered. These days were the days he thought about betrayal. Where he thought about his friends leaving him behind. Abandoning him.

Akira Kurusu was scared.

Today was a day where his feelings slipped themselves into every crack of his thoughts they could find. They partially distracted him at school, made his comments to his friends sound half-hearted when he truly meant them, kept his responses to Sojiro short, and made him reluctantly obey Morgana when he told him to sleep.

“Hey, Akira, what’d you get on the third question of the test? I put B, but I’m not very confident in my answers,” Ann sighed, resting her head on her hand. She had her mouth in a pout with her genuine look of unconfidence.

“I got B, too,” Akira responded. He sounded uninterested, but he really wanted to boost Ann’s spirits.

“Oh, great!” Ann said with a smile. “That makes me feel better.”

She spun back around when the next teacher walked in the room. He didn’t miss her look of slight concern while she turned.

“Welcome back. How was school?” Sojiro asked when the bell rang above the door to LeBlanc.

“Good, as always,” Akira responded, it didn’t come out as he intended it to.

Sojiro just laughed softly, “An answer I’d expect from you.”

He frowned as Akira moved towards the stairs, absentmindedly wiping away at a glass.

“So, you ready to go to bed?” Morgana asked later.

“Yep,” Akira replied, sliding under the covers. “I’m tired.”

“For once,” Morgana said sarcastically. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Akira turned on his side and shut his eyes.

He didn’t see Morgana jump on the bed and give him a worried look. He just felt him curl up next to him and release a sigh.

Akira had a nightmare. He was back in Okumura’s Palace. A crowd of worker robots surrounded him and his friends. They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They fought and they fought to no avail. Akira had to watch as his friends fell around him, one by one.

Ann was bleeding from a wound on her head. Makoto’s arm was broken at the elbow, told by it’s odd angle. Yusuke was so beaten he couldn’t stand. Futaba was trapped outside the circle, not hurt but in danger. Morgana was struggling to stay conscious. Ryuji’s leg had given out on him due to the stress. Haru was standing mostly uninjured, but her father’s shadow was pestering her with “Okumura Daughter” duties. Akira was helpless he couldn’t do anything. He was exhausted. He fell to his knees.

“This is what brats like you get for meddling in the wrong business,” Okumura walked to Akira. “You get beat.”

There was a gun shot, but Akira missed it. He woke with a start. He was shaking. He felt lightheaded. He couldn’t focus. He pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed them tight. He didn’t notice Morgana stir next to him.

Morgana didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to risk Akira’s panic getting worse. Instead he just pretended to shift in his sleep.

Akira’s shaky hand reached for the windowsill. He grabbed his phone and checked the group chat. Nobody had said anything since their final goodnights. He wanted to talk with someone, anyone. But who would be awake at this time of night? He gave in.

Akira: Is anyone awake?

Ryuji: yeah

Ann: yep

Futaba: mhm

Yusuke: Yes.

Haru: I am.

Makoto: So we’re all awake at this ungodly hour?

Ryuji: i couldnt sleep

Ann: Me neither

Ann: I keep falling asleep and waking up again

Haru: I get how you feel, I was just thinking of texting you all myself.

Yusuke: I am only awake because Futaba is keeping me up with her constant messaging.

Futaba: this is important stuff im sending you!

Yusuke: You are sending me pictures of foxes in costumes.


Makoto: So in one way or another… We all are having a struggle with sleeping.

Ryuji: thats what it looks like

Ryuji: aww man i wish we could meet up

Ryuji: im not even sure if i feel tired anymore

Ann: I mean, it’s almost 5, we could meet up anyways?

Makoto: When did everyone go to bed?

Ryuji: 10

Ann: 9:45

Haru: Nine ‘o clock.

Yusuke: Eleven

Akira: 10:30

Futaba: ive taken naps throughout the day so im not really tired

Makoto: I see.

Makoto: Well, I guess we all got reasonable hours of sleep.

Makoto: I will permit this once, and only because we are all in the same boat here.

Ryuji: all right!

Ann: Yes! I’ve always dreamed of doing something like this!

Yusuke: Where should we meet?

Ryuji: how about Akira’s place? is that ok? the place doesn’t open until 8, right?

Akira: Yeah, it should be fine.

Haru: What about Mona? Is he awake?

Akira poked the cat with his finger. His hand still felt slightly shaky, but he was calming. Morgana meowed in reply, but rolled onto his side to look up at Akira.

Akira: He’s up.

Futaba: Great! See you all there!

Akira sat his phone screen down on his bed. Morgana now laid on his stomach, his tail swishing around.

“What’s up?” he asked drowsily.

“Everyone’s coming over. No one could sleep except you,” Akira replied, semi-sarcastic.

“Ok, might wanna fix that bedhead of yours a bit, though,” Morgana replied.

Futaba was quick to hop onto Akira’s bed, sitting criss-cross for once. Ryuji sat on one end of the couch and Ann on the other, stretching her legs out across Ryuji’s lap. Makoto and Haru sat on the floor by the sofa. Yusuke simply took a chair.

“Man, I’m glad to be outta my house. There was no chance of me sleepin’ anymore,” Ryuji groaned.

“Every time I shut my eyes, they just wanted to open again,” Ann complained through a partial yawn.

“I would fall asleep for an hour at a time. It’s rare I sleep like that,” Haru shook her head.

“Do we all have something on our mind that’s keeping us up?” Makoto questioned why this was happening.

“Umm… not that I can think of,” Ann answered.

“There’s nothing that would keep me up at night except Futaba,” Yusuke commented.

“Shut it, Inari,” Futaba responded.

Akira fumbled for words. He ran a hand through his hair in thought. While the others maintained a steady conversation on sleep habits, Akira was lost in his thoughts. He wanted to tell them. He didn’t want to keep his emotions a secret anymore, they deserved to know. They cared about him and should know when he’s feeling down. But how could he start? He didn’t have to.

“Akira? You ok?” Morgana asked, tail swishing. “You look kind of out of it.”

“Now that he mentions it, ya do, dude. What’s up?” Ryuji is quick to follow up.

Akira hesitates, “There… There’s something I need to tell you all.”

Akira talked the most he had ever talked at once then. He told them about his nightmares of losing them and everything he’s ever known. He told them about his emotions building up and how he felt like crap on those certain days. He poured his heart out in a matter of minutes because he wanted to stop hiding this. He wanted to stop being scared. He talked about the trial and being sent to Tokyo by his parents and how it made him feel so… abandoned. Betrayed.

“Akira… You know you can talk to us, man,” Ryuji was frowning though he was definitely concerned.

“Yes, you will always be one of us,” Yusuke spoke, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Mhm, text me whenever and I’ll be sure to respond!” Futaba nodded encouragingly.

“We will always be there for you, Akira,” Makoto had slid closer and placed a hand on his knee. “Wherever we may be, we will always be willing to talk.”

Akira felt his hands get shaky again. But there was no fear or panic this time, just relief. They still saw him as Joker, their leader. Their tactician. Their friend.

“I never would have known this affected you so much if you hadn’t told us,” Ann frowned guiltily.

“Yeah, I feel bad,” Ryuji looked sad. He faced Akira seriously. “Just worry about yourself, man, before you worry about what others say.”

“They don’t know you like we do, anyways,” Futaba added.

Akira nodded. His face was hot. He was struggling to keep his shaky hands under control. He felt tears welling behind his eyes. Why was he still trying to keep his emotions in?

“I’m glad you told us about this,” Haru smiled at him warmly.

“You can surely rely on us as much as we have relied on you, leader,” Yusuke says assuringly.

Futaba quickly hugged Akira’s arm when he began to cry. It ended up with all of the Phantom Thieves on or around his bed. Ann was on his other side, head on his shoulder. Ryuji sat on the other side of Futaba, his hand lingering close to Akira. Makoto was kneeling in front of him, clasping a hand in both of hers. Yusuke and Haru sat in chairs on either side of her, leaning in close to fill the circle.

Akira’s free hand was on his face, wiping away tears that kept being replaced. Morgana squeezed in and curled up in his lap, nudging him with his nose.

“We’re a team, Akira. Teammates never leave another behind,” he said, closing his eyes.

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had always had one thing in common: they shared their pain together. And they all awakened to one more thing; Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

☀️ Summer tol and smol ☀️

Kenma and his shoes are too cute for this world and Kuroo is That One Guy™ who wears flip flops all summer you can’t convince me otherwise ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also on ao3


It’s like a fire spreading from his chest, painful and unbearable. It consumes his lungs and he can feel his breath coming out in short, stutter-y gasps. He clutches his chest with one hand while the other grips his throat. A choked sound escapes him as the tears start flowing.

It’s all overwhelming — he can’t think clearly and he just — he needs to calm down.

But he can’t.

Because when the fiery hand of fear had placed its hold on him before, he wasn’t alone in those times. While his hands would shake, Jeremy would grip them with his own and lessen the trembles. He’d wipe away his tears and tell him that it would soon pass. He would say that he would be okay, and that he would be here for him, always.

Except in this moment, he isn’t. Michael is alone and sobbing into his sweatshirt as the chill from the porcelain bathtub seeps into him.

It’s quiet and somewhere in the back of his panic-stricken mind he finds this odd. He’s at a party with loud music and equally loud people, which he should be able to hear from the other side of the door. He can make out one sound, though, and as he focuses on it, he realizes that it’s his name he hears.

Michael? Michael!

It sounds like -

“Jeremy!” he gasps, sitting up from the bed he’s in.

Bed. He’s in a bed, not in a bathroom sobbing. After rubbing a hand over his face, he quickly realizes he actually is crying.

He jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep…” Jeremy says.

Michael glances at him and sees the concern written all over his face. He looks away and responds, “Yeah, it was just a bad dream, which you could probably tell. It’s no big deal.”

He doesn’t say anything else and goes to lay back down when Jeremy’s response stops him.

“What was it about?”

He sits up fully and debates for a second. Should he tell him? He doesn’t want to keep anything from Jeremy, but he doesn’t want to make him feel guilty.

He can’t meet Jeremy’s eyes as he says, “It was about that night…”

“That night?”

“Yeah, at the party. In the bathroom. After you — I was panicking; you were gone and — yeah. That night.”

There’s a beat of silence, no one moving, until he suddenly feels arms around him and Jeremy’s face pressed against his back.

“I’m here now,” he hears Jeremy say, muffled slightly.

Michael feels a spark of anger or worry or something, and he puts his head in his hands, causing his voice to come out muffled too.

“But for how long? What if something happens and you leave me again? I don’t — I don’t know what I would do.” he admits.

Jeremy holds him tighter and stays quiet. It isn’t until Michael hears a sniffle that he realizes that Jeremy is crying.

“Jeremy, are you…are you crying? Why are you crying? What did I do?”

“That’s just it, Michael. You didn’t do anything.” Jeremy’s voice becomes more frantic. “I did. I messed up. I called you a loser and left you there. Who does that to the person they care about? I love you and yet here I am, the reason you’re having nightmares and crying in your sleep. I don’t know if I can ever forgive my-”

“Jeremy, Jeremy. I love you, too.”

Jeremy only holds on tighter and sobs.


Sunlight streams through the slit of Jeremy’s bedroom window curtains, warming Michael as he wakes up.

The first thing he sees is Jeremy, eyes closed and lying curled up close to him. His breathing is even and his face looks impossibly peaceful. Michael can’t help but trace a finger along the edge of his face lightly, taking in the sight.

It’s not long before Jeremy begins stirring, eyes slowly opening and looking at Michael.

“So…what’s, uh, up?”

Michael laughs softly at Jeremy’s usual awkward nature, but quickly turns serious when he looks Jeremy in the eyes and says, “I meant it, what I said. I love you, too.”

“Even after I ignored you?”

“I love you.”

“Even after I called you a loser?”

“I love you.”

“Even after I -”

Michael doesn’t let him finish as he cuts him off with a quick, soft kiss.

“It might still hurt when I think of it all, but I know you aren’t the same person then, and that it wasn’t even really you. I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you because I love you.”

Jeremy looks like he’s about to start crying, but he’s smiling and grabbing Michael’s hand, threading their fingers together.

“I love you, too.”

They’re both smiling at each other now, teary eyed and sleepy in the late morning sun. Michael feels a warmth spreading throughout his body, and everything feels okay. He knows Jeremy isn’t going to leave him again. He’s not alone.

evgeni malkin // jealousy

requested by @price-devant-la-cage

warnings: alcohol

who: evgeni malkin x reader

premise: you, sid and geno are all at a bar when your ex walks in and geno gets protective


The whole thing was incredibly awkward already. The three of you, your twin brother, Sidney Crosby, his best friend Evgeni Malkin aka Geno, and you were all squeezed together in a too small booth, sipping on overpriced, fruity cocktails. Normally, that would be fine, but today, things were different.

Last night, as you were over at your brother’s house, you had drunkenly confessed to him that you were sort of in love with Geno. The next morning, when Sidney called you, you half expected him to make fun of you as he normally did, but instead he told you that Geno liked you too, he just was too shy to say anything, so he was going to play matchmaker. You wanted to scream “no”, but before you could retaliate, Sid was already forcing you to get drinks that night with just him and Geno. You assumed that it wouldn’t be too bad. You assumed wrong.

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Zukaang: Language.

“I don’t know why you hate it so much,” Aang said with a shrug. “Everyone said it in the Fire Nation when I was a kid.”

“A hundred years ago,” Zuko snapped back, a little more sharply than Aang thought was probably needed. He took that as a sign that maybe Zuko wasn’t joking about being annoyed about the use of the word, which only made Aang find the reaction more ridiculous. And maybe a bit more funny.

Thankfully, Zuko hadn’t been annoyed enough to pull away yet, and he still lay close enough that Aang was able to nudge him and wink.

“It’s just a word, Hotman,” Aang said and the glance Zuko shot him by his side eye made the effort worth it. Aang laughed, patted Zuko on the chest, and said in his best (but always a bit tinny-sounding) attempt at the Fire Nation language, “Back then, everyone was a Hotman.”

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There’s Still Time (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: AU! Doctor Barnes wakes up every morning next to the woman of his dreams, and goes to work and saves lives. One day when his older mentor has to leave for a family emergency, he meets someone who will change his life forever.

Word Count (1,838)

AN: Uh yeah another story with my fave metal armed assassin but it’s an au?? i want fluff god damn it! alsoooo i watched a lot of house as a kid ok but damn daddy bucky coming to save the world

They call it the city that never sleeps for a very good reason. At just 4 am the sounds of car brakes and stores opening for business filled James Buchanan Barnes’ apartment, and he was up before his alarm even went off. But he stayed in bed, not wanting to disrupt the gorgeous red head sleeping next to him.

Natalia Romanoff laid naked beside him, Bucky’s arm clutched around her waist, and he just stroked her arm. God she was beautiful, and he was so lucky to have her. She was smart, independent, and didn’t really need him but wanted him anyway. There was only two minutes left before his alarm was to go off and he used every last second to savor this moment with her. It may have been like this everyday but it never got old to him.

His alarm rang once and Bucky was out of bed, making sure to shut it off before his fiance even moved an inch. She was a light sleeper, but he knew how to work his ways around her ever cautious self. It’s one of the things she loved about him. Bucky walked to his closet, which housed a few of Nat’s things as well, and picked out a nice white shirt and trousers for his day.

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