yeah i'm still having a lots of feelings over this finale

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?”
me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic”
boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

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Mirror For The Sun - Part 8: Change of Plans

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 7 - Part 9 (coming soon)

Summary: (Bucky POV) Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 3171

Author’s Note: Gah sorry this took so long. I’m already starting on prt 9, so hopefully it won’t be as long for the next one.

Originally posted by gliceria

This morning is a battle. It’s a battle to focus on really anything but Y/N. I’m just not sure what to make of any of this. I have no idea what she’s thinking while she flits around the campsite packing up the sleeping bags and tent while Sam works on breakfast. She doesn’t seem any warmer to me than she is to Sam, playfully dodging his reach when she steals a piece of bacon, or than when she grabs Steve’s arm to get an extra lift to push the tent bag on top of the car. I can’t figure out if this morning was just a weird thing in an emotional moment or if it was something more.

It’s also a battle over the next stop. She’s sitting stubbornly on the picnic table holding her atlas while Sam begs her to get in the car. Steve is rolling his eyes and I’m barely holding back my laughter.

“Come on! You’re being such a princess!” Sam scoffs, “Get in the car.”

“No! Vegas is not part of the plan!” She shouts back defiantly.

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Playful

masterlist || coming soon//recently posted || come say hey?

Requested: Hey love!! How are you? Can i ask you one thing? Alright… I hope you can make an imagine where reader and shawn are all goofy, sassy, bitchy and all those playful relationship. i hope you can make imagine just based on how playful their relationship is. thank you very much.

Note: I thought a lot about how I wanted to write this concept and I finally settled with writing four completely unrelated scenarios or moments to illustrate the type of relationship requested. 

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

“Babe, I love you and that song, but shut up.” You tell Shawn partially joking, but also partially serious because Shawn has been singing the same two lines of Barcelona by Ed Sheeran practically non stop for the past twenty minutes and you’re getting to the point where you really can’t take it any longer.

“In Baaaaaarcelona!!!” Shawn sings very high pitched for a reason you don’t understand obviously ignoring your demand for him to stop. You barely even look up from your phone. Instead, you just reach out your hand and place it over his mouth. But you feel his teeth graze your palm and then he moves and bites down lightly on your fingers.

“Ow!” You say, retracting your hand and pretending it hurt a lot more than it actually did.

“Don’t even lie, y/n, you like when I bite you,” Shawn says, and your eyes widen and you immediately look around to see if anyone heard Shawn’s comment because he didn’t even bother to say it quietly and his band is all in the dressing room with you. Luckily, they’re all busy doing their own thing so no one seems to have heard Shawn’s comment.

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anonymous asked:

#74 + Sterek, please!

74. “It’s been 10 years how do you still look so good?”

High school reunions are suppose to be an event where kids who were awkward in high school get to show off how successful they are. Stiles had spent most of high school looking forward to the fact that he would eventually be successful and he could rub it in everyone’s face. 

He had gone off to school in D.C., gotten recruited by the the FBI and the CIA, and eventually joined up with the CIA. He spent the ages of 22 to 26 working undercover ops overseas. 

It wasn’t a job he could brag about though. Most of his work was top secret, need to know only. 

His dad thought he was working for a bank that had him stationed in England. It was a great job, he loved it even if he did miss his dad. 

When he was 27 he was involved in a hostage situation in Tunisia. When he got out the CIA decided that he could stay stateside for awhile. He was excited until he realized that meant he would be able to go to his high school reunion. 

“Come on Stiles, you haven’t been home in years,” Scott said, “Not since my wedding.”

“I know buddy,” Stiles said, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of an excuse, “But we have a huge uh, thing at work. I can’t get out of the office.”

“Stiles come on!” Scott whined, “I heard that Derek Hale will be at the reunion.”

“Hard pass,” Stiles said, looking over his shoulder. It was habit at this point, making sure he had every exit covered. 

“Don’t you want to meet your goddaughter,” Scott said, pulling out the big guns to get Stiles back to Beacon Hills.

“Fine,” Stiles said after a moment, “I mean I have to clear it with my boss, but yeah fine.”

He could hear the smile in Scott’s voice, “Awesome! I’ll tell your dad.”

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MESSAGE DELIVERED | pt.1

→ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / Namjoon x Reader
→ Genre: fluff, smut, angst, humor
→ Words: 2,517
→ Rated: NC-17
→ Warnings: alcohol, language
→ Summary: A text message sent to the wrong number turns into a long lasting affair between two people completely opposite one another.
→ Note: This is an old thing and actually the first thing I wrote after the accident, and I decided to post it again because I kind of hold it close to my heart ? It’s not all going to be texts between the characters, but quite a lot of backstory and stuff the more we get into it. It’ll be told from both Y/N’s POV and Jungkook’s. Please enjoy! :)

Parts: 01 : interim : 02 : coming soon

cr.


The first time you receive one it’s in the middle of the night.

At first you simply stir in your sleep, turning around as if that will somehow stop the annoying buzzing resounding from under your pillow. When it doesn’t, you grab the cursed device and flip it over in your hands, wondering whom of your stupid friends decided to be an excruciating pain in the ass this late.

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I should probably warn you that: 1. The idea is very old; 2. I mostly write stuff so I can push character limits, and here I clearly pushed too hard. Basically, expect lots of OOC.


Title: Think Before You Speak

Fandom: MommaCQ (belongs to @alainaprana)

Wordcount: 983

Warnings: OOC; mentions of injury and hospitalization; blatant angst.

Summary: Error hates the hospital.

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Breakdown

Requested: can you do one where shawn has a mental breakdown and you have to calm him down

Originally posted by everythingshawnmendes

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

“Y/n,” You hear Andrew’s voice shouting from the front of the bus. You don’t know why he’s yelling, but he sounds frantic.

You tell your sister, “I have to go. I’ll call you back later.” And you hang up the phone before even giving her a chance to say goodbye as you slide out of your bunk. You’re currently on tour with Shawn because he had asked you to come along, but you miss your family just like he misses his when he’s gone. Whenever Shawn’s busy working, you often take that time to call or FaceTime your family or friends back home. Shawn is currently doing his meet and greet, so you had decided to stay on the bus to talk to your sister over the phone.

As soon as your toes touch the ground, Andrew appears at the end of the hall. “Y/n, there you are!” He practically screams, which slightly startles you because you’re not very far from him, so you don’t really understand why he’s shouting so loudly. “Come with me,” He says, turning around and practically running out of the bus. You’re confused, but decide to not ask any questions as you rush after him.

“Shawn’s freaking out. I think everything’s just been too much lately.” Andrew tells you, while practically jogging into the venue.

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Stuck in the Middle (with You)/Awesome Crowley

[For a meta about Reservoir Dogs and Tarantino’s use of gay subtext, click here.]

I don’t want to be the person who ruins everyone’s fun, so I’m saving my one big criticism of this episode for last. This meta is completely positive, even saccharine, until the very last paragraph. Also, I’m borrowing one of my favourite AO3 tags as a title because, let’s face it, Crowley was the real hero of this episode and where the action was, and that’s perfectly okay and long overdue. Crowley’s been around for years now, and he’s gone through huge bouts of character development, and yet we still know next to nothing about him and he’s often treated like an afterthought, both by our heroes and by the writers. This episode finally (finally!) corrected that, because no matter how intriguing and plain beautiful everyone was, Crowley was magnificent - as I fully expected him to be.

After all, they’re good - but he’s Crowley.


Like anyone with eyes, I loved everything about this episode, and especially how it was filmed. I have to say - this is the first episode in a long time that actually had me in tenterhooks about a possible character death, because you never know, right? Theoretically, Crowley could die, and so could Cas. Theoretically. And also the music, did I mention the music? I think that scene of Cas crawling away from Ramiel and the shot of Ramiel stabbing him - that’s just become my favourite Supernatural scene ever, bar none. It was so powerful and dramatic and visually magnificent and that damn music - wow

I adored that symbolism, because Cas’ been a Christ figure for a while now, and seeing him like that, on his back, defeated and stabbed by a lance - you can’t get more Golgotha than that. Beautiful stuff.

I also loved that this episode was, in a way - off-centre. Sam and Dean were there, of course, but the story was not focused around them. The real protagonist was the supernatural world itself - Cas, Crowley, Ramiel; even Lucifer, to me, was more present than he’s been in a while, what with this vague threat of his child hanging over the world, and him taunting Crowley and flashing his red eyes at this most undemonic demon in the very last scene. The truth is, I love everything about Sam and Dean, and that includes the incredibly talented actors who play them, but I feel the show could benefit greatly from approaching their story from a different perspective every once in a while. I’d love to know more about their childhood, for instance, or about this world of monsters and hunters around them; and a completely Outsider POV episode is, at this point, something I’d probably sell half my soul for.

Anyway - lately, this show reads like very good fanfiction, and considering how engaged, loving and talented this fandom is, this is high praise. I particularly appreciate the fact they’re going back to important plot points and filling them in with completely new details - after all, we’ve been wondering for years what’s up with demonic eyes, or how Crowley became king in the first place (or, at least, I know I did). This new class of demons appearing out of nowhere - creatures powerful enough to wield an archangel’s weapon - that’s incredible stuff. I’m guessing we’ll see more about them, and I can’t freaking wait.

So, yes - Ramiel was spot-on. Jerry Trimble managed just the right mixture of underwhelmingly normal and terrifyingly amoral - so much so I’m sort of sad we didn’t get to see more of this character, even if everything about him, including his death, was handled just right - there was no room for anything more.

My one slight criticism there would be the fizzling nature of Cas’ abilities. For instance, didn’t we establish that Cas can smell lies? So why couldn’t he guess Mary was hiding something? And what about demons’ true forms? I always assumed Cas could see that (was it ever stated in canon? it must have been), and I was therefore almost disappointed that Cas couldn’t recognize Ramiel for what he was. Maybe it can be explained away by him slowly becoming closer and closer to a human being - I don’t know. In any case, I’m truly appreciating how obsessed everyone seems to be with him lately. After years of taking angels for granted, we’ve got two characters in short succession fangirling over angels (in a creepy, murderous and definitely non-con way, but still) - and, yeah, I know that basically everyone spent the entirety of Supernatural pointing out how different and unique Cas is, and I’m grateful for that, but it’s also nice to get a reminder that angels are awesome (in the other sense of the word) in and of themselves.

(I’m still loving Mr Ketch, by the way. Aaaaaw.)

Let’s now come to our unsung hero: Mr Crowley.

Crowley was magnificent in all this. And we’ve now learned he never seriously planned to become King of Hell - my headcanon, which I’m considering confirmed, is that Crowley simply wants control. He’s been tortured for a century or more as some demon tore his human soul out of him, and he’s never putting himself in that position again, which is very sensible of him, and also very Scarlett O’Hara.

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About Natsu's (lack of) character arc

So, there are a lot of posts criticizing Fairy Tail thanks to this recent arc. I’m sure there’s someone out there talking about this exact same issue, but I admit I haven’t found that person yet… And in any case, I want to say my own piece about this subject. It’s been awhile since I wrote some sort of analysis here, but this is probably going to be long anyway.

I want to clarify something: I’m trying to be objective here. While my opinions and tastes will show up, what I’m going to focus here is on writing and structure. I want to talk about why Mashima’s writing is so ineffective lately, and why so many people call Natsu a Mary Sue or plainly dislike him. I’m not here to defend Natsu; I love him, sure, but he’s been a victim of terrible, awful writing. I 100% understand why people dislike him or even hate him. They have VERY good reasons to do so. What I want to do is explain why this happens.

Alright, now let’s start.

→ Inability to change.

At the start of the latest time skip I saw the first sign that I should drop any tiny bit of hope that I had for Natsu’s character. I was stupid and I kept that hope alive, sadly, but I really should’ve seen it coming.

Remember when he came back of the one-year-trip he took after Igneel’s death? How he had his long hair, and many people wanted him to keep it that way, but in the next chapter he came back to his usual look? 

It may seem silly, but to me this was a sign of a bigger problem. Usually, when there’s a time skip it’s expected that character designs change. Not only because it keeps things interesting, but also because people change with time. A change in design tends to reflect this. And I know it sounds stupid to worry about something so “insignificant”, but remember: manga is a visual medium just as much as it is a written one. Visual elements are as important here to tell the story as any other. For example: Lucy, the character who’s allowed to change the most throughout the story, gets a slight change in her design after this time skip. By contrast, Natsu doesn’t.

Following that small sign, we discover that Natsu’s personality hasn’t changed. Like, at all. A year has passed, and he hasn’t changed. Worse than that: He lost Igneel. And. He. Hasn’t. Changed. At. All.

Natsu’s motivation was established in the beginning of the manga: He wanted to find his adoptive father, Igneel, after he disappeared 7 years prior to the start of the story. That motivation was fulfilled in the Tartaros’ arc, followed by Igneel’s death. In one day, Natsu fulfilled a dream he spent seven years (or fourteen, I guess) pursuing… and then he had to see one of his worst fears come true. This is a pretty big thing for any person, but it’s also the culmination for a character arc. The character is at his lowest point, so he’s forced to grow in some way (whether it’s positive or negative).

But… we don’t see Natsu grow. Sure, we see him grieve for… a couple of panels, but that’s all. The chapter before the time skip, we see Natsu smiling and barely reacting to what happened, besides deciding that he has to become stronger. 

We don’t get much insight into him. And after that? A year passes and we don’t get to see Natsu’s struggles or his process of growth. What’s worse: when he comes back, he’s acting like he always acted. And there’s no insight that shows us that no, he changed, he’s just ACTING. We have nothing like that, he just… got better. And we don’t get to see it.

Look, this isn’t about his coping mechanisms or anything. It’s not about whether a person, in real life, can go through a situation like that and appear unchanged by all that happened. No, this is about the writing choices made for a character being utterly ineffective and incompetent. It’s not like we need much, honestly. We don’t need to have Natsu ranting in his thoughts about all the suffering he went through and how he changed. Small changes would’ve been enough. Maybe having Natsu smiling less, or showing sad smiles. Or maybe have him lose some of his will for fighting, at least when it comes to the reckless fights he does for fun. Those things are small, but they are effective.

But, what is Natsu’s character arc anyway? What did Mashima intend for him at the beginning of the story (or what he seemed to intend)? In my opinion, there are two major themes to what should’ve been Natsu’s character arc: Choosing between Igneel and Fairy Tail, and learning to deal with loss. Both of these themes should’ve culminated at the end of the Tartaros arc, but Mashima accidentally destroyed all the moments that lead to this.

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🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.

anonymous asked:

I started reading I Bloomed for You a while ago because you posted it a while ago (I saw you posted about the update today which was sO GOOD??!? im in tears halp) so thank you so much for introducing me to it!! Do you have any other kookie angst of hurt/comfort fics you've read that are good? I'm having trouble finding good fics. Thanks!!

OMG I’m so glad you liked it! Come cry with me T^T I haven’t cried over a fic in a while but the angst is really freaking real and I will cry you a river. I feel like I’ve read a lot of hurt/comfort fics but I’m totally blanking out on a lot of them. But here are some I remember!

When Control Is A Grey Area AO3, Complete, JungkookxEveryone, please beware of the trigger warnings though!

This Series AO3, Ongoing, I remember I read these series of Taekook fics awhile ago and they were like really smutty but near the newest installments, it got really freaking angsty and I’m still waiting on that comfort. 

Red AO3, Oneshot, Yoonjin, basically a twist on the red string of fate au and I loved the angst

Let’s See Where We Wake Up Tomorrow AO3, Oneshot, Jikook, this is another fic I cried too, temporary character death. 

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too) AO3, Oneshot, Jikook, I really love my jikook hurt/comfort okay.

Golden Boy AO3, Complete, Namkook, oh boy the angst in this (buffered by smut).

Marrow AO3, Complete, Sugakookie, a classic angst, I forget if there’s a happy ending.

Sometimes the moon looks brighter than the sun AO3, Oneshot, Jikook, Jungkook finally has someone to wipe his tears away. 

Hanahaki Disease AO3, Oneshot, Sugakookiemin, I love hanahaki especially when kookie has it (why do I hurt my bias this way). 

Why Can’t You See AO3, Complete, Junghope, I looooooved the angst in this, it’s my favorite kind of angst, broken yoon/seok.

How an Ariel Cartwheel Can Change Everything AO3, Oneshot, Jikook, Gymnast au, kind of like the we broke apart and got back together trope, Jimin has a thing with a girlfriend and cue hurt but things work out. 

Yeah, i’m totally blanking on the hurt/comfort fics I’ve read but I hope these suffice even a little bit!

Okay so @chirpingisflirting said she’s been having a real poopy bday, so I thought I’d take a crack at a nurseydex hc (which became this lame ficlet chimera) for her! Here goes nothing! Literally!

I’d imagine that, early in Nursey and Dex’s relationship (say, four months in?), school starts hittin’ Dex hard; boy’s got assignments up the wazoo, some emergency fees come up and he takes a small job a few days a week at the school bookstore/convenience store, his life’s just a mess. Nursey’s trying to keep his cool and be understanding, but it’s driving him nuts. He hasn’t seen Dex outside of practice in like, a month and a half, and he keeps trying to text him and make the best out of a crappy situation, but Dex tends to fall asleep or get bogged down by a new assignment and just forgets to text back and or it’s been almost a day and it’d feel really awkward to answer now and… yeah. It’s really fucking with Nursey.

He’s been taking it slow with Dex (whom I headcanon as only recently really coming into his sexuality?) since the start, but it feels like he’s the only one who gives a crap sometimes. Nursey reminds himself that’s obviously not true, though, and that Dex is just obscenely busy and just… lays on the supportive texts, or brings extra snacks for Dex after practice/before class. Still, this can only go on for so long.

And it’s driving Dex crazy too, because he’s reading all the texts, and he can see how upset Nursey is every time he splits up with the rest of the team after breakfast to head off to class, and it weighs on his mind when he’s knee-deep in some cs problem. It’s his first real relationship (with a dude?), and he’s crazy for Nursey, but he feels like he’s only giving 30% when Nursey’s constantly giving 100% (which ISN’T TRUE; boy’s running himself ragged, here!).

So he works double time for like a week to give him enough slack to slack off for an evening. It’s Tuesday, and he texts Nursey around lunch to get dressed in something comfy and wait outside the Haus for him after dinner. Nursey’s totally confused and is so… idk? Anxious? What could Dex want to talk about? Can Nursey even take this anymore? Is this fair to him? He almost doesn’t reply or want to show up, but he’s a sucker for Dex, so he puts on a cute li'l sweater over a collared shirt and waits out front.

Dex pulls up ten minutes late (definitely unlike him), and Nursey and him drive off silently.

They pull up to this hill hidden between these real posh houses that overlook Samwell and the surrounding town, minutes pass, and Dex pulls a scrap of paper and a single, haggard looking rose from behind his seat, but he still won’t talk. He just stares down at the things in his hands, and Nursey’s somewhere between concerned and pissed.

“I stopped by the flower shop before they closed and picked this up for you,” Dex starts, hands on the rose he’s now jerking in Nursey’s direction, “but I realized I don’t even know if you like roses, and this is completely fucking cliché, and it got all fucked up because I kept fiddling with it, and- Jesus, Nurse. I’m sorry.”

Nursey just looks up and locks eyes with Dex for the first time all night. Concern is winning out over anger now. He takes the rose, and his eyebrows wrinkle in an almost sad way.

“Shit, Nur- Derek! Derek. Are you okay? I’m so, so–”

“I love it.” Nursey places his hand over Dex’s. Dex just blushes and goes silent again, his eyes returning to the scrap that’s getting closer to becoming, well, scraps.

“I know I’ve been really shitty about, well, us, recently.” Dex is breathing deeper now. “But I know how hard this is for you, and I think about you all the time, and I thought I could balance everything, but I-” Dex shrugs. “I guess I can’t,” he chuckles.

“And I guess I know how much you like poetry and stuff, and- just- I brought you here to tell you…” He stretches out the paper in his now shaking hands, and sucks in a sharp breath. Th- this. Just read this.“ He passes the scrap over to Nursey:

‘You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.’

"Yo, you know plagiarism is probably the least effective way to my heart, right?” Nursey chirps.

“I know that, idiot,” Dex starts. “I- I’m not saying I wrote it. I just-”

“I know, man.” Nursey’s hand tightens around Dex’s.

And then Nursey’s kissing him, and Dex could almost cry for all that he feels he doesn’t deserve it after this past month. They break apart soon, though, and Dex takes the moment to hold Nursey out at arm’s length.

“I'msosorryDerekyoudeservebetterthanthisI'lltryharderforyou,” Dex breathes out.

“Hey, chill. I’m not blind, you know? You’re doin’ everything you can, Will. Just… just let me help you too, y'know? If you’re too busy to leave your damn room, let me come to you. It’ll kill me, but I can catch up on my readings and… not distract you.” He waits a beat for Dex to answer, and when he doesn’t, he continues, “Or I can meet you in between classes and walk you to your next one, or we can call each other… I just miss you.”

Dex’s eyes start darting here and there, like he’s looking for something in Nursey’s, and he finally answers: “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” He’s sniffling now. “Let me do better.”

And with that, Dex leans in to kiss the smile sprouting on Nursey’s lips.

(And then vehicular cuddles. A lot of them. To the point where Nursey has to drive them back because Dex is half-asleep.)

a love letter to brown eyes | shawn mendes

requested by anonymous

word count: 1,539

author’s note: bet y’all weren’t expecting this on a monday, huh? i hope this is okay, anon! I’m sorry it’s pretty much all dialogue.


Your name: submit What is this?

There were not many secrets between you and Shawn. He knew about the time you threw up in front of your entire second-grade class during a field trip, you found out about all the drama with his friends from school, and you had shared - in length - the most awkward highlights of your terrible first kiss behind the bleachers in middle school.

And somehow, even after all the confessions and conversations a two-year relationship entailed, you were still discovering new sides to the floppy-haired boy that first shyly approached you at a mutual friend’s party two years ago.

Keep reading

fly away with me

summary: astronauts au! lots of fluff. oops.

word count: ~1600


He can remember the exact moment he wanted to do this.

He was six years old, sitting in the passenger’s seat of his brother’s truck while Liam paced around in the light coming from the parked vehicle’s headlights, voice raised as he fought to keep Killian with him.

He was listening to the radio- crackling due to distance, but enough for him to hear the woman talking about the latest space launch.

With bright eyes, Killian had stared up at the night sky, counted the stars, and suddenly desperately wished he could be there. Not here, with Liam or in the system where he’d likely end up. If his parents didn’t wish to stay, then neither did he.

He’d rather chase the stars any day.

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Drag Me Down (To Hell) | 02

Originally posted by jjks

Summary: There’s a darkness to your city, a murderous underbelly filled with crime and deceit that you’ve sworn to avoid at all costs. But the universe has funny ways of forcing your involvement in the form of a notorious mob boss and his young daughter.
Pairing: Jeongguk x reader
Genre: mafia!au
Rating: Mature (for themes; will change in later chapters)
Word Count: 9.931

Part 01

When you had told Jeongguk to only call you for matters pertaining to Surin, you hadn’t expected that call to come so soon.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hi!! sorry it wouldnt let me send more asks haha. i'll tell you the rest of what happened, but i gotta be upfront and say that i cant provide you with real "PROOF" of what happened bc i'm really, really not comfortable with sharing the pic of us since the pic+the story 10000% outs me (even if it's just on the internet. i have irl friends here.) so enjoy the story, but i totally get if you don't publish it because there's not solid proof (not that it's insider-y or really has any info to it lmao)

so i spot them (not like it was difficult ha) and i was like holy shit my time has come. im finally getting my louis+starbucks moment in the sun. so after about 30 seconds of ??????? i bucked up and went over and i was like mega shy because IT’S SO AWKWARD APPROACHING A CELEB I HAD NO IDEA. like i mean i kinda assumed it would be, but i’ve literally never done it before so i had no idea just how bad it would be……. 

 4. but anyways i did the whole “omg louis, i love you, i love the band, kjdhfjsdh” thing and he was very sweet and had this big old grin on his face and was acting kind of silly idk how to explain it but he was just being very jokey i guess. and then idk what powers from above gave me the clarity of mind to do this, but right when it probably should’ve been time for me to just ask for a pic and walk away, i went for it. i feel like everyone always has their “one thing” 

 5. they wanna say to one of the guys and ever since mitam i have always, always, always said that if i ever met any of them i would say something about end of the day. so basically i just started rambling and i was more or less just like, “i just wanted to say thank you for end of the day. i dont know if you know this and i dont know what your intentions were with the song or whatever, but just thank you 

 6. because there’s a very large group of us that have kind of taken it to be a song about girls that love girls and it just really means a lot since it’s such a fun, positive song. so thank you.” and it obviously came out 98539485793485 times more awkward and jumbled than that but whatever. and he wasn’t like, “omg!!! you got it!! that’s what it’s about!!!” or anything at all like that, but he just got like…very?? soft and sweet. 

 he stopped grinning like he had been during our entire exchange. like that big cheesy fan grin he always does idk?? and instead he just had this very soft and sweet smile and he GAVE ME THE SOFTEST HUG IN THE ENTIRE WOLRD!!!! HE HUGGED ME!!!! HE INITIATED THE HUGGGGGG!!! and it was just a very soft hug im sorry iknow ive used that word like eighty times but it’s true!!!! and during the hug i kinda turned back into fan girl mush and i was like “thank you thank you thank youuuuu” 

and then he was like, “thank you, love,” and then oli took a pic of us haha. and after this two minute encounter i literally only have one thing to say: idk shit about larry or babygate or any of that bullshit. all i know is that louis tomlinson was incredibly sweet and kind and he is not the attention seeking asshole that people on my dash have been slowly making him out to be.

so yeah basically he was just sweet and kind. i really, really don’t want to be connected with this story (i got burned a while back by someone accidentally outing me on tumblr and it made for an awkward convo with the girl i kinda like…) but yes!!! it just is what it is :) i totally get it if you dont wanna publish, but it’s cool if you do. (and this is me praying to god im not in any pap pics. but oh well.) 

================================

Oh. My. God.  I know I’m going to have to call this a rumor, but this is the best story!!!  I hope it’s true. It sounds true and it sounds exactly like I would think something like this would happen :)

Thank you so much for sharing. Thank you!!  
 

Okay, so, I need to say some things...

I’d planned to do this as part of my review of the latest SU episode, The New Crystal Gems, when I post it this Tuesday, and I will probably mention a lot of this again then, but I’m peeved enough that I need to rant about it now.

If you plan on watching my review, and you don’t want any aspect of my opinion of the episode spoiled, then don’t read this, I guess. If you don’t mind hearing my ideas twice, though, or you don’t plan on watching the review, then let’s talk a little bit about Lapis.

Keep reading

the-bookish-soul  asked:

I meant to ask Feysand fluff fic I'm made you a cake

See my favorite thing as a writer is to write something totally off base of what might be expected from these prompts… I think I did that with this one… hope this is fluffy enough, friend. I’m kind of obsessed with it.

Feysand + “I made you a cake”

____________


“Mor, have I ever told you how much I completely and totally loathe you?”

“Oh quit being dramatic,” Rhys’s cousin snapped from where she stood between him and Azriel, her hand in his. “You’re the one who said you wanted a night out downtown with all of us!”

“I meant a night out drinking, Mor. Drinking. Alcohol. The cheap kind. And lots of it, preferably.”

“There will be alcohol!”

“Yeah Rhys, didn’t you read the pamphlet?” Cassian sauntered up to his friend, hooking an arm around his shoulder. “‘Wine and Canvas Painting.’ Sounds delightful, right? A real party. I mean I personally am gonna get so– ow! Quit it!”

Mor leaned over and pinched Cassian in the side to which he yelped.

“Don’t make fun,” Mor hissed. “My friend Feyre is still in the early stages of starting her own business, and I want to support her. And you guys support me, thus, we’re going to drink wine and paint some damn canvases or so help me you two will–”

“We’re here,” Azriel cut in smoothly.

Mor gave Rhys and Cassian one last glare that would have sent other men running before sauntering up the steps and opening the door to a little shop with an overhanging sign that read, “Velaris.”

“That’s a weird name,” Rhys grumbled to himself as he followed after his friends.

Once they were inside and had taken off their coats, Rhys glanced appreciatively at the space inside. It was… nice, he would give it that. Spacious and warm and full of light.

Mor’s friend - Feyre - apparently owned this little studio and taught art classes all throughout the week. And every other Friday she taught a 21 and up class where they served wine while doing canvas paintings.

And Mor, being Mor, thought it would be a great idea to do that this very weekend instead of going out to their favorite bar, the Illyrian, like they usually did.

“Well where is this friend of yours?” Cassian grumbled. “And where is the wine? If I’m doing this I need to be drinking.”

Rhys and Azriel laughed, but quieted instantly when Mor glared at them.

“She’s probably setting up or something. But her sister and Amren are over there, come on.”

“Amren’s here?” Azriel paled. Mor ignored the other two as they snickered and walked ahead.

“Amren! Nesta!” She called out. Two girls in the back row whipped their heads around.

Rhys recognized Amren, the terrifying woman that Mor had introduced him to a few times. The other one, Nesta, must be Feyre’s sister.

Amren just looked the boys up and down and huffed before turning back around in her seat.

Nesta rolled her eyes at Amren and gave Mor a forced smile. “Hey,” she said without much enthusiasm.

Mor went to reply and sit in the open seat next to Nesta, but the next thing they knew Cassian had practically shoved her aside and was careening to sit beside the young woman.

“Well hello there,” he said in his charming voice. “I’m Cassian. And you are?”

Nesta just stared at him, completely unaffected.

“You literally just heard her say my name,” she deadpanned. She looked back over at Mor. “Mor, who the hell is this guy?”

“I’m sorry.” Mor just rolled her eyes. “I told them to be on their best behavior, but I only have one of them trained.” Azriel narrowed his eyes at her but she only giggled and moved to sit down beside Amren and Azriel followed suit on her other side.

“Oh I can be on my best behavior,” Cassian continued, clearly not taking the hint. “I can be on whatever sort of behavior you want, sweetheart.”

He leaned in close to Nesta, giving her his best seductive look.

She was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Get your face the hell away from my face before I break it.”

Cassian’s brow shot up in surprise and Azriel and Rhys both snorted in laughter. His surprise soon turned into wicked delight.

“Oh just wait sweetheart, you’ll learn to love my face. In fact I’ll bet you’ll be painting it before the night is over. Or perhaps if my charm really sways you, you might even be s–”

“Do not finish that sentence and do… not… call me sweetheart,” Nesta seethed.

Rhys was just about to go sit on the other side of Azriel to avoid all of… that, when someone bumped into him from behind.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry! I just… well I can’t really see right now so…”

Rhys turned to the voice only to be met with a stack of canvases stacked way too high for one person to be carrying. The stranger’s face was hidden behind the stack and it was clear she couldn’t see anything in front of her. He chuckled.

“Do you need some help there?” He offered.

“Nope!” The female voice chirped brightly. “Nope I am perfectly fine. Just fine.”

“Really?” He drawled. “Well then by all means, continue your trek.”

The person froze.

“Right. Yes. Continuing now.”

The woman turned slightly to the left, then slightly to the right. She took a small step forward only to bump into Rhys’s other shoulder.

“Dammit,” she hissed under her breath.

Rhys laughed openly, reaching forward to take half the stack off of her hands.

“Here, allow me.”

When the stack was considerably lowered, Rhys finally saw the stranger’s face - and felt like he had been sucker punched.

With her eyeline free now, the girl blew a stray strand of messy hair away from her face. Her eyes were blue-gray and absolutely stunning. She had a single purple streak of paint on her cheek that he had a feeling she had no idea was even there.

And then she smiled up at him.

“Thanks,” she said, clearly not noticing that he wasn’t even breathing. “Are you here for the class?”

“I uh…” he stumbled, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

What the hell was wrong with him, he didn’t get nervous around girls? Especially not ones with paint on their face and a stubborn attitude to boot.

“I…”

“Feyre!” Mor shouted suddenly, and the next thing Rhys knew his cousin was shoving him out of the way to give the woman an awkward hug over the canvases she held.

“Hey, Mor,” she said in a strained voice, giving Rhys a look that said ‘save me’ over Mor’s shoulder.

“I told you we would come.” Mor pulled back with a grin. “I brought Az, who you know, and then Cassian is the one over there about to get his balls ripped off by your sister, and it looks like you’ve already met my cousin, Rhys.”

“Yeah we… ran into each other,” Feyre said, smiling over at Rhys.

He could’ve died a happy man right then.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get the class started,” she continued apologetically.

“Oh it’s fine,” Mor said quickly as Feyre started to make her way up to the front of the room. Rhys followed awkwardly with his half of the canvases. “Oh and happy birthday!” Mor shouted suddenly.

Feyre froze, whirling towards Mor but running into Rhys yet again.

“It’s your birthday?” Rhys asked, his head cocked to the side.

Feyre paled. “Yes, but don’t say anything else please. I hate celebrating my birthday, it’s just so awkward.”

Rhys grinned, his earlier awkwardness melting away and turning into his usual suave because now he had an in with this girl.

“My lips are sealed Feyre, darling,” he said softly as he sat down his stack of canvases and stepped closer to her. She looked up at him a bit nervously.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself since my cousin thought she needed to do it for me,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “I’m Rhysand.”

He noticed her shiver and grinned a bit wider.

“Feyre,” she replied, taking his hand. “Feyre Archeron. And please don’t call me darling.”

Rhys laughed, walking backwards towards his seat.

“Whatever you say, Feyre, darling.”

“You know if you keep calling me darling I’ll have to come up with a name for you too. How about prick?”

Ohhhh, he liked this girl already. His smile said as much.

He finally made it back to his seat, plopping down next to Azriel. Cassian and Nesta were still at each other’s throats.

Rhys was watching Feyre as she set up her own easel when Mor leaned across Azriel and pinched his arm.

“Ouch! What, Mor?”

Mor grinned like a fox.

“I knew you two would hit it off.”

“You… you planned this?”

Mor only laughed, leaning back in her seat and grabbing the glass of red wine in front of her as she spoke to Amren. Rhys looked at Azriel incredulously.

He just shrugged as if to say, ‘what can you do?’

The class started, and Rhys found himself captivated by Feyre yet again. She spoke about painting reverently, it was clear this was her passion. Her eyes lit up and her voice took on a tone he could listen to for the rest of his life.

Then when the actual canvas painting began, she walked around the room and answered questions, helping here and there. She stopped by Rhys’s row a couple of times, but only long enough to chat with her sister, Amren, or Mor before skittering off to another place in the room.

Rhys huffed as she avoiding his gaze for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Mor giggled. “The chase not working out how it usually does for you, cousin?” She teased.

“Neither is his painting,” Azriel murmured.

Rhys cursed his brother, elbowing him in the side.

“What do you mean?” Mor asked. “What’s wrong with your… Rhysand!” She shouted, leaning across Azriel and smacking him in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stop hitting me!” Rhys hissed. The rest of the class - and Feyre, he observed - was watching them. “And mind your own business. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh do you?” Mor drawled. “Well then by all means, show us your wooing skills.”

Before Rhys could say another word, Feyre had sauntered up right next to him.

“Everything okay back here guys?”

“Oh yes,” Mor said before Rhys could get a word in edgewise. “Az and I were just observing how wonderful Rhys’s painting is.”

Oh Rhys was going to kill his cousin.

“That’s great!” Feyre said enthusiastically, meeting Rhys’s eyes finally.

“Yeah, super great. Go ahead, Rhys.” Mor propped her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Show her.”

“Well, Mor,” he seethed, turning his easel so Feyre couldn’t see his painting. “I actually wanted to show Feyre darling here my painting when the class was over.”

“Oh but it’s just SO good Rhys, show her now.”

“Yeah, show me,” Feyre jumped back in. Rhys melted at her soft smile, feeling a bit like a prick now. “I bet it’s great.”

“Well…”

“Oh for goodness sake.”

Mor leaned across Azriel for a third time, turning Rhys’s easel towards Feyre herself.

“Mor!”

Feyre’s jaw dropped when she saw that Rhys had painted a… cake.

A terrible looking cake with blue frosting and candles that looked like sticks. And in black paint he had written across the top, “Happy Birthday, Feyre Darling.”

She was silent for a few seconds and Rhys thought she might have stopped breathing.

“You…”

“I made you a cake,” Rhys finally said. It sounded infinitely stupider when he said it out loud. “Since it’s your birthday and I just thought… you’re smiling. Is that a good thing? Did I do something right or are you showing me pity?”

Feyre snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I love it,” she said in between her laughter. “I mean it looks… utterly horrendous–”

“Hey now, this is exquisite.”

“But it’s very sweet of you,” she said, meeting his eyes with a genuine smile.

Rhys felt his own lips tilting upward at the corners of their own accord.

“Anything for you, Feyre darling.”

Feyre’s smile dropped and she rolled her eyes.

“You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you, you prick. Call me darling one more time tonight and I won’t go out with you when you ask me after class.”

“Oh I’m asking you on a date now, am I?” He asked, mouth turned up in wicked delight.

“Well you better. You already made me cake,” she gestured to the painting. “Now you have to buy me dinner.”

He met her teasing eyes and realized he was already in deep shit and he didn’t mind at all.

“Anything you want.”