It's A Masterpiece

Coma, Don't Cry, Welcome To The Jungle

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐍’ 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

His Favourite Person

jim moriarty x reader

Summary: You have a nightmare, but the consulting criminal is there to calm you down.

Warnings: it's angsty at the beginning, but turns into comfort/fluff at the end, death (not really though, just in a dream), gun usage

A/N Hello! It's just a small piece I wrote after not writing any fanfiction for 7 years. I hope I did our dear Jim justice. Let me know what you think! Please keep in mind that English is not my first language.

You watched as he pressed the gun against his scalp. A smirk evident on his lips, like he wasn't bothered in the slightest by what he was about to do. Your heart raced, panic was written all over your face. No. This is not happening.

"Jim!" You tried calling his name, but he didn't hear you. You tried louder and louder, but it was like you weren't even here. Like you were just a ghost.

You wanted to run to him, to do something, but some kind of invisible force was holding you back. You couldn't get closer. You couldn't stop him.

Before you could yell out his name again, it happened. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise from the gun firing hit your ears and his body fell motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head.

"No..." A whisper fell from your lips. Your hands were trembling, your heart squeezed.

"God, please no." Sobs started to rack your body, as knees your hit the hard ground beneath. The world around you began to fade. This is not happening...

You wake with a gasp, your eyes shot open. Despite the immobilizing panic your eyes quickly scan the room you're in and you recognize it as yours and Jim's shared bedroom. It was just a nightmare. Your eyes and cheeks were wet, and it felt as if your heart was about to jump out your chest. Despite the slight relief of realization that what you saw was indeed not real, you just couldn't calm down. You needed to see him.

Just when a thought of searching for Jim crossed your mind, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump a little. You looked up, your frantic gaze meeting his concerned one.

He was still dressed in his day clothes, indicating that he probably didn't even went to sleep that night, even though it must be awfully late by now. Still, it wasn't a surprise, as Jim's sleeping patterns were a complete mess. He was either going over business with his clients or conveying orders to his employees or planinng his next move. His mind almost never stopping, which resulted in the man rarely getting any sleep at all.

His brows were furrowed, dark eyes scanning your face. Assessing your state it seemed obvious that it was a nightmare that has shaken you up so much.

"Hey, it's ok. It's ok." He spoke softly, his distinguishable accent pouring from every word. He sat down on the bed beside you and took you in his arms. You pressed your face into his chest, hearing his heartbeat; a clear indicator of him being alive. Your arms came around him, and you inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. The slightly faded scent of his cologne has grounded you further.

"I'm here." He said as he left a small kiss on your head. Seeing you in such a state bothered him. The sight made him frown. Many thought that Jim Moriarty didn't feel anything, that he was heartless. And while it is true for the most part, you were the exception. The only thing that mattered in the long run. You were partners in crime, most of the time; literally.

He propped his chin on your head, his thumb rubbing your back in a calming motion. Finally all the emotions started to slowly evaporate. Your heart rate started going back to normal, as you soaked in Jim's touch, his warmth, his scent, his whole being.

You were the only person who's distress bothered Jim. You're his favourite person afterall. The only equal in this world full of ordinary people. And he will always be there for his one and only other extraordinary person.

It’s an unspoken rule that you can’t leave your car until Bohemian Rhapsody is over

the 1990s were something special for guns n' roses

fuck, he cute

.Christopher Walken as the Kid in “The Anderson Tapes” directed by Sidney Lumet

To the fashion industry worker who at some point decided that these hairstyles were out of style:

Who hurt you? What were you thinking? Why did you do this? I’m very disappointed in you. I hope you are aware of the terrible thing you did. It was a long time ago ,but you left a wound in our hearts. I forgive you though, because we all make mistakes.

(Same with shoulder pads)

I can't risk anything bad happening on my first concert bro

reblog to have good concert luck

One Vision

Hii I have a request !!!

Can you create some headcanons Bill Cipher and a female reader who is a medium psychic? She has the ability to sense energy, communicate with spirits, and perceive the supernatural. When she encounters Bill's energy, it’s incredibly overwhelming for her because his presence radiates an intense aura filled with chaos and nightmares

Hi!

Unfortunately I don't take requests :(

It sounds like such a cool idea for headcanons, and I would love to see someone else create something out of your request. But I just don't feel comfortable enough in my writing abilities.

I hope you'll find someone else who will write something based on that request though! ♡

"Him so sweet", I say, in a baby voice, about an 80s rockstar over twice my age who needs therapy and rehab