HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN ALL ALONG

“Now, I think that I should have known that he was magic all along. I did know it — but I should have guessed that it would be too much to ask to grow old with and see our children grow up together. So now, he is a legend when he would have preferred to be a man.” - Jackie Kennedy

Mikael as an important character in Sana’s story

OK so, after my post remarking how prominent Mikael was in “FY FAEN”, I started to wonder “why?”.

“Why would Mikael go from being barely visible, teasingly so almost, to so ‘in your face’ in the space of one episode?”

It’s not just because Julie is trying to remind us we’ve seen him before: she knows we spend our time on the internet analysing every frame of her show, she’s knows we’re tech-savvy, she knew the minute NRK would update their profiler page we would start looking up the characters and making the connection with Mikael (if we hadn’t already, I’m guessing she knew most of the core fandom would know about Mikael coming back already, the sudden influx of followers on Yousef Hjelde El Mofty’s instagram was indication enough, we also know Mari and Julie regularly look up the SKAM tags to take the pulse of the skamily).

But even if for the non-internet fans, the casual viewers, keeping Mikael gently in the background would have been more than enough to later pull the rug
and go

“Tadaaaa! Even’s best buddy, Mikael! You should have known! He was there all along but you didn’t notice!”

So, to me, it’s not just Julie teasing us about Mikael and his connection to Even.

And that’s when I realised that every season is from the main’s POV, this season is no exception.
And who is becoming more and more prominent in Sana’s POV, while Yousef is progressively seemingly falling from grace? Mikael.

@darker-sooner​ pointed out the frame above to me and how there are two main characters in it: Sana and Mikael (also, in terms of the position of the characters, Sana and Mikael are turned towards each other in this picture…they’re still not really looking at each other though, that will come later)

My reasoning is that, from a directing standpoint, having Mikael progressively take more and more space in the frame equates having him take more and more space in Sana’s life.
For now, she’s not really looking at him. She’s interested in Yousef. Mikael is still background. But even in the background, she’s starting to notice him more.

My theory is that we will start seeing them interact and be in each other’s “backgrounds” more and more.
Maybe next time it will be a “hi” exchanged on camera.
Maybe after that a sentence or two.
I’m not yet certain Mikael will definitely be a love interest for her. But I really feel like he’s going to be an important person in her life in this season.

This Is War [11]

Summary: After being rejected by your best friend Bucky, Sam sets you up with one of his friends, on the condition that if the date doesn’t go well, you have to sign up for a dating app. The date doesn’t go well. As you begin to look for love in other places, Bucky starts to feel something he never felt before. Jealous.

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1520

Warnings: Angst. Maybe some language. Mentions of alcohol

A/N: Haha.. Insert sweating emoji face here..

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Language, Cupcake! (Dean Ambrose) One Shot

Originally posted by temomi

Characters: Dean Ambrose X Reader

Prompt Request: Request by @thenameskaelyn

168: “You’re in trouble now”
170: “Bend over”
179: “First one to make a noise loses”
181: “If you’re bored; Wanna have sex?”

Warnings: Smut. 200000000% ALL smut. #noshame

Word Count: 3.3k

Tag List!! ; @ambrosegirlforever | @valeonmars | @thebadchic | @nickysmum1909 | @vsturgeon5489 | @jade4062022 | @rebelfleur22 @seths-skinny-jeans | @lakama15 | @southernbelle24 | @wwefangirlllll | @spiderman2289 | @nickie-amore | @blondekel77 | @princess3733 | @toosweetme | @unabashedwwesmut | @iwannadiehere | @mandazord | @reigns420 | @sfreeborn | @shieldlovereve | @isawthesights | @cam0flug3 | @cfloyd776 | @ashleyvc88 | @xfirespritex | @taryndibiase | @alexahood21 | @itsnethbellins | @castielscamander | @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues | @sleepsiehollowreads | @etherealmoonlight | @florenceivy | @georgiadean37 | @siren-songx

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged! I’d be more than happy to add you! :)

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From Enemies to Lovers. Pt:9

Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Angst & gradual fluff

Pt:1 Pt:2  Pt:3  Pt:4  Pt:5  Pt:6  Pt:7 Pt:8 Pt:9 Pt:10 Pt:11 Pt:12 Pt:13 Pt:14 Pt:15FINALE


Originally posted by bwiseoks

Jin’s p.o.v

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I say whilst retracting my hand instantaneously, clearly showing my embarrassment caused by my own actions. Y/N’s cheek felt so soft and smooth when I ran my thumb across it. She was in her natural state and I can’t even try and lie to myself about the way she looks, because she’s beautiful.

“Thanks Jin.” She said as her cheeks turned a slight pink. I furrowed my eyebrows and wondered why she was thanking me.

“Hmm? Why are you thanking me?” I questioned her, confused and she let out a small laugh. 

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I Wanted It to be Real

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

THIS IS IT the final chapter! This is for all of you who have been reading this, your comments have been wild and I want to say thank you, ‘cause I love writing these things but you guys just make it so much more wonderful and fun. I love you all and I hope you like the last chapter.

Chapter 6

I’m hiding out in one of the hallways, pacing up and down past the empty classrooms and hoping he won’t look for me. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it. I feel too sick to eat anyway, sick from worrying, sick from thinking about what I said to him and what he must be thinking.

I should have known better than to start this whole thing. I should have known that I couldn’t let Baz show me that other side of him and then just go on hating him like none of it mattered.

I should have known that I would fall for him. That, right now, seems more inevitable than anything else that’s happened. More, even, than this war leading to one of us ending the other. More inevitable than my breakup with Agatha, even after our relationship had been going downhill for years, more inevitable than the fact that eventually, whether it takes just days or weeks or months, I always lose control and go off. How could I not have seen it before?

I saw his face when I told him. He was shocked, and it’s the smallest of victories, that at least he didn’t sneer at me and tell me he’d known all along, that he’d planned to make me fall for him. I don’t think he planned this. (I started it, after all. And I’m realising now that there were other ways I could have gotten Malcolm Grimm to back off that didn’t involve wrapping my arms around Baz.)

Maybe I should have stayed, to get it over with, so at least Baz would have had to respond to me while he was still shocked. Now I’ll have to face him again and he’ll have had time to think about it, to put on his mask where he acts like he doesn’t care about anything or anyone and nothing can hurt him. Now he can say exactly the right words to cut me down. I should have stayed. But as soon as I blurted it out, I got scared, and I ran off.

I’ll have to face him eventually, but not today. I don’t have the strength for it. I’ve wasted more magic than I normally would in an Elocution lesson, spilling it across the length of the hallway so it crackles in the air around me. When night has fallen and dinner must be long over, I’ve calmed down enough that my magic is under control.

I’m not going back. I’ll stay with Rhys and Gareth, or I’ll stay in the library. I can’t face him yet.

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sex on fire ❦ roman godfrey

prompt: can you do a roman x reader where they go out to a fancy lunch and it ends up getting really steamy at the restaurant because roman doesn’t care if people see, and you convince him to take you back to the car?

requested by: @get-royally-fucked

warning(s): this imagine contains sexual themes

word count: 1077

It was going to be a nice, simple lunch date with him—at least that was what you were hoping it’d be. But of course, when it came to Roman, things never did end up going as planned. And now here you were, sat in a booth with flushed cheeks and an ache between your legs that only he could relieve. Damn you, Roman Godfrey.

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almondmylkbitch-deactivated2017  asked:

Simon dragging Baz into a Lush store, and even though Baz is grumpy about it, he's the one who ends up spending over £100

I’VE BEEN SAVING THIS PROMPT FOR A SPECIAL DAY. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, Y’ALL.


“Just fuck me up,” Simon whispered under his breath, eyeballing the Sunnyside bath bomb.

Baz just stared at the metal bucket, overflowing with bath bombs covered in gold edible glitter. He tried to gently guide Simon away from the display, but Simon’s feet might as well have been made out of lead. “No, Snow. I draw the line at glitter.”

Simon just glared up at him, jaw set and right hand already defiantly grabbing a Sunnyside and dropping it into their basket.

“I don’t want to fight you today, love,” Simon said, wiping his hand on Baz’s jumper, “but you did promise to let me go to Lush today.”

Baz flicked the side of Simon’s head and shoved the basket at him. They’d been in here less than five minutes and he was already drowning in all these smells.

The sales lady had been far too chipper when they’d entered, there were too many bright colors, and the gigantic blocks of soap with knives stuck in them were making Baz really uncomfortable.

Simon, on the other hand, was living. He loved all the cute little bath melts, and the Valentine’s Day display they had, with cherub-shaped soap bars hanging from the rafters, was ridiculously cute.

He took a picture to send to Agatha since Penny definitely wouldn’t appreciate the aesthetic properly. 

Simon,” Baz snapped, suddenly leaning over Simon’s shoulder and almost making Simon send the display flying. “Quit doing a photoshoot and get what you need. I agreed on 30 minutes.”

—————

I should have known, Simon thought.

Somewhere along the way, Baz had remembered he loved to pamper himself. Like, really loved to pamper himself.

They’d been in there over two hours before Baz was ready to leave. Now, as they ambled their way back to the flat, there was a clear distinction between Simon’s stuff and his boyfriend’s.

Simon looked down at the reasonably-sized bag of goodies in his mittened hand. He got a couple bath bombs, a shower jelly in a nice cherry scent, and the Ocean Salt scrub because it reminded him of the beach he and Baz went to all the time in the summer.

Then, he glanced a look at Baz’s pile, stacked up toward the gloomy sky. Even with his vampiric strength, he looked wobbly under the weight of bath bubblers, lotions, fizzies, scrubs, eyeliners, shampoos, and boxes of every soap the store carried.

“You know, Simon,” Baz said conversationally, his voice muffled underneath a loofa, “I do think you bought too much.”

Simon snorted, winding an arm around Baz’s waist to guide him from falling off the curb. There’d be nothing for it if all his precious goodies ended up tumbling out all over the busy London streets.

Giggling into the pink scarf he had wrapped tight around the lower half of his face, Simon replied, “I think we’re getting a bit confused on who bought what. But I still love you.”

Baz, beginning to teeter up the steps to the front door of their flat building, paused. Simon heard him hum. “I love you, too. But,” he quipped, “I’d love you even more if you opened the fucking door for me.”

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5

a brief appearance from my agent’s run through the expansion stuff, which was kind of a mixed bag for multiple reasons, the first of which being that i tend to play my agent more thoughtfully and that doesn’t make for funny comics- but also:

  • man when it took my campaign into account it was GREAT, i loved most of the scenes with Kaliyo and Scorpio
  • but it was NOT VERY LONG before they just gave up on the class distinctions and i started getting dialogue that didn’t make any sense. OH WELL.
  • also everyone was juuuust terrible to my Actual Former Crew-Members and i felt a lot more defensive this time around! come on guys, i’ve known them for longer than you have a little courtesy
  • (and lbr Vector should have been extremely easy to track down Lana come on)
  • oh yeah when Class Stuff did come up the game seemed to want me to hate Watcher X a lot more than necessary? we got along fine! i didn’t kill him and he saved my ass later so why does he get all the blame for the brainwashing shit? i guess the Nebulous Concept of a Corrupt System of Governance doesn’t make for good haunting visions.
  • this isn’t related to anything but i’m still annoyed that Koth got cut out of the story so much.
  • anyway the force-centric stuff didn’t bother me too much because i’m just delighted every time i get to defeat a Great and Mighty Space-Wizard with the power of G U N.

i feel the need to state for the record that i am apparently so bad at videogame romances that i completely missed the cue for Theron’s and had to restart the chapter. so there’s that.

[more SWtORsupport my stuff!]

Manners

Jasper Hale imagine requested by casismyguardianangel. “Could I get Jasper/reader where it’s their first kiss please? They’re at the Cullen’s alone watching a movie & partway through reader does/says something & Jas just pulls her in without thinking, he tries apologizing but she kisses him to shut him up” Hope you like it!

“So you’re telling me you’d take the Civil War all over again over the court of Marie Antoinette? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you guffawed, watching Jasper’s smile creep by inches past his steely facade, his eyes abandoning the documentary you were watching in favour of meeting your inquisitive gaze. He shrugged his shoulders, his teeth gleaming in the dim glow of the television, his hands smoothing over the denim that clung to your shins. You had your legs propped-up in his lap, a comfortable position neither of you minded, but an innocent enough picture that, should your privacy be interrupted by the return of, say, Emmett Cullen, the mockery would remain relatively minimal. Jasper’s eyes flitted to the screen, his butterscotch irises burning in their own right as they reflected the lavish colours shown on the furnishings of Versailles. “What’s your reasoning? “What’s a plate of pastries to a field of dying men?” you joked, mimicking his unnaturally smooth voice to the best of your human abilities, emphasizing a thick Southern accent, thrilling at the rolling of his eyes. “I know you’re technically a killing machine, but I was so sure you had some level of restraint.” He refused to acknowledge your jab, fighting his smile as it grew. “Come on, Jaz, be reasonable. You’d really take war over a ballroom?” He turned to you, then, his eyes open and honest as he prepared to counter your argument.

“Absolutely, I would. I mean, can you imagine living like that? All the rumours, the powder, the… I mean, for women, especially, the corsets? I’d much rather stand behind a cannon and watch femurs get sawed in half than be so… stiff.” You rolled your eyes at his logic, his preference to gore rather than tolerate a little perfume and a few layers of lead foundation. You rolled a piece of buttered popcorn between your index finger and your thumb, your thoughts arranging to compensate for the new bit of information you’d snagged from the man. Jasper’s hand continued to smooth a pathway over your legs, his touch incredibly gentle, nearly ghost-like as he passed over and over the cloth covering your skin, his eyes on yours as he waited for your next barrage of questions. You popped the piece of popcorn past your lips, munching happily before voicing your confusion.

“When you say you’d rather endure the Civil War again, does that include… you know, how it “ended” for you, or just the golden-boy-and-youngest-member-of-the-Texas-Calvary bit?” He paused, his eyes lifting slightly in thought, his hand pausing just below your knee as he digested your comment. “I mean, would you get bit again? Just to avoid Versailles?” He grinned then, chuckling softly, his fingers toying with a piece of thread coming loose of your seams.

“Well, considering the alternative…” he eyeballed the television, redirecting your attention to the scenes of unrest among the French peasants, their fists raised against each others’ jaws as they tussled over scraps of discarded bread. “If you’re asking me whether or not I prefer vampirism to the Guillotine, I think you know my answer. I’d be a fool to pick getting cropped at the neck rather than being bitten there, no matter how…” he trailed off, as if hesitant to disclose the details of his transformation, his eyes clouding over as he relived the distant memory, scenes over a hundred years old painting the landscape of his features as his mind recollected the images. He sighed lightly, organizing his thoughts before continuing. “Only one of those options ends with me living.” You scoffed, bending at the knee to nudge his side with your foot, his bewildered eyes locking on yours with mock surprise at your breach of manners.

“So to speak,” you corrected, his laughter flooding through the emptiness of the Cullen residence, his smile wide, eyes sparkling joyfully. You knew there was a part of him that was flooded with relief that you could make light of his immortality, no matter how dark the terms of his contract may be. You were expected to run screaming for the hills, but you couldn’t fathom leaving Jasper for anything, supernatural or otherwise. He caught your foot in his hand, returning it to its previous position, his body sliding ever so slightly closer to yours at the end of the couch, a movement that wasn’t lost on you. He extended is arm over the back of the sofa, his forearm by your head, the scent of his skin wafting up to flood your senses.

“So to speak,” he mirrored, his grin lingering as you both returned your attention to the documentary, watching as friends of the monarchy met their fates by the falling blade of the Guillotine, wincing each time the lever was pulled. Jasper chuckled at your so obvious flinching, bringing his lips to your ear, his voice a mere whisper. “You know this is a dramatization, right? They’re not actually being put to death. They’re just fine.” Normally, you would have swatted him away, banishing his sarcasm with a harmless roll of your eyes… but he was so close to you in that instant, and the scent of him… you found yourself positively intoxicated by his presence, and ever more aware of his body as he moved closer by fractions of an inch. When he moved away from you, he was never quite as far; this most recent transaction left him all but beside you, your legs bent from the proximity. If you so much as shifted, you’d practically be nestled in his lap… not that you would have minded, only Jasper was usually so brisk about the distance between you and the razors he hid behind his lips, lips that, just a moment ago, had been brushing against your ear. Jasper turned to you, a quizzical expression knitting his brow, his eyes curious on your own. “Are you feeling alright? You seem…” his voice trailed off, watching as you displaced the popcorn bowl from your lap, relocating the ceramic to the coffee table before you, your eyes on the screen to avoid meeting his honeyed stare, though you were very much aware of the fact that his eyes remained glued to your face, tasting your emotional atmosphere.

“I should have known you wouldn’t be put-off by executions. Blood and all that,” you tried, your attempt at humour seeming flat even to your own ears. Thankfully, Jasper had the groomed manners of a Southern gentleman, which is to say he played along despite the knowledge that you were actively trying to keep the tone of the room a specific flavour. You couldn’t hide your heartbeat from a vampire, and you certainly couldn’t hide your emotions from someone who knew you as well as Jasper did, even without his gift.

“Yes, I’m familiar,” he responded, his voice light despite the breathy quality of his whisper. There was no need for him to speak at a higher volume; you were close enough now that his arm behind your head now hovered just above the ridge of your shoulders, threatening a gentle embrace, his breath kissing along your hairline, tousling stray strands as he exhaled. You lifted a hand to tidy what little he had disrupted, the backside of your hand brushing against his hair, unintentionally shifting his golden curls. You reacted as if you’d dropped something, immediately retracting your hand and assessing the region you’d nudged for damages, finding, instead, Jasper’s butterscotch eyes intent on your own. He was quiet where he would usually fill the silence with some sort of retort, his eyes devouring your features as if he were starving, yet there was a calmness, a patience about his stare… as if he were fully aware that he had all the time in the world to memorize the details of your face. His hand reached for your face, his fingertips shocking your skin as they brushed along your cheekbone, tucking the strand of hair that had been misplaced behind your ear, his touch lingering far longer than usual before his hand retracted. His lips pursed as he exhaled once more, a cautious, tentative breath slipping from his lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, your lips parting readily, Jasper’s eyes ducking to your mouth with a quiet hunger you wouldn’t have recognized if you weren’t feeling exactly the same way.

“You would do it again?” you asked, your voice weaker than you intended, Jasper eyes finding yours in the relative darkness, the credits rolling blackly and thieving the illumination from the room. He smiled simply, his movements so much smaller now that you were so close, his eyes gleaming despite the inky quality of the room. You had no doubt he could see you clearly. “All of it?”

“Of course I’d do it again. If I had never gone to war, I would have never been bitten. I would have never had the opportunity to meet you. War is no picnic, and ours was a particularly gruesome one, but I’d do it over and over until my dying day, if that day should come, if it meant I could see you when the sun went down.” You exhaled softly, your breath trembling as it left your body, Jasper’s face illuminated then by the title screen of the documentary, his features so much softer than you remembered, so tender…

“Well, aren’t you just a hopeless romantic?” you breathed, your words hushed in the limited space between your bodies, the coolness of his chest chilling you through his shirt where you touched. “Huh. Who would’ve thought? Jasper Whitlock, golden boy of the Confederacy, who would rather go to war again than dare to set foot in French court, has a soft spot for a human who flinches at fake executions. What are we going to do with you?” His eyes, which had been locked on your own, changed suddenly when you spoke his name; most people, including his family, referred to him by the alias Hale, which he had adopted when he joined the Cullen family due to his resemblance to similarly blonde Rosalie. You had no time to discern the meaning behind the so sudden shift in emotions before his hands were cradling your cheeks and his lips had crushed to yours.

You melted easily into his embrace, his hand dropping to the small of your back to bend you into his kiss, your body slipping into his lap as he held you to the marble coolness of his chest. Your lips answered his where they could, the both of you so fervent and overwhelmed by passion, but not mindless enough to forget the sharpness of his teeth now one wrong move away from slicing your lips. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, your body arching into his when suddenly, he had separated himself from you, moving in the course of a single ragged breath to the opposite end of the couch. His eyes were wide with shock, his chest rising and falling with his breathing, which you had never seen so unsteady. His hands he held in his lap, his eyes on your face.

“I’m… please forgive me for,” he paused, formulating his words carefully while you caught your breath, your lips electric from his kiss, your heart galloping in your chest. “Where are my manners?” he chuckled, a bit breathless, his voice feebler than you had heard it before. “I shouldn’t have done that, not without… I should have asked your permission, I’m…” he exhaled, his eyes burning when they met yours. “Please accept my apologies. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have done that without first asking if you were-” you sat upright, your voice emerging far stronger than before despite your lack of steady breath.

“Shut up, Jasper.” His voice trailed off to hear you speak, his eyes staring into yours with genuine shock, his lips parting wordlessly. “Ask me.” He stared at you, blankly, not quite comprehending the turn of events that had unfolded so suddenly. He shook his head slightly, as if attempting to dash the confusion from his brain, his chest expanding as he inhaled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t-” he began, asking for clarification. You simply repeated yourself, your voice quiet and steady as you analyzed his features.

“Ask me, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips parting over a gentle smile, his happiness all but tangible in the darkness. When he spoke, his voice was dripping with sarcasm, mimicking your rendition of his voice, laying heavy on the Southern twang he had lost so long ago.

“Would you mind terribly, Miss, if I were to steal a kis-” he began, his arms enveloping you as you threw yourself into his arms, your lips finding his easily, his unnaturally quick reflexes melting you into his embrace once more. You wound your arms around his neck, your fingertips threading through the hair at the back of his head, his lips moving sweetly against your own. His thumb traced over your jawline, his fingers tangling in your hair, his kisses becoming more passionate with every minor separation. Your senses were so absorbed in the taste, the feel, the smell of him, that you didn’t notice when your company expanded.

“I’ll tell you what we can do with him, Y/n. Get him to a bedroom, huh?” Emmett sang, his voice gravelly as he chuckled. You and Jasper all but flew apart, his hands straightening your clothing where it had been disheveled, shooting daggers at the brother whose entry he, too, had missed. “Hey, I won’t judge. It’s just that this is a family room, Jasper. Best not to defile it.” Jasper hissed lowly at his brother, the aggravated grumble melting to a sigh as Emmett left the room, winking in your direction. You buried your face in Jasper’s chest, deflating with embarrassment as you giggled into the fabric of his shirt, his hands smoothing over your back, his body shaking beneath your hands as his laughter mingled with your own.

So I wrote a thing

I totally don’t know what to title this but uh maybe give this a read?? I’ve never written newsies stuff before and nobody proofread it so don’t judge too harshly please!
—————————————-

The first time Davey has an attack in front of Jack he runs to hide it. Makes up a stuttered excuse about going to the bathroom and avoids Jacks usual friendly pats on the back just so he won’t notice he’s shaking. They were with Crutchie and Spot and Racetrack in a place that was too crowded, too loud, too much. David had only met Jack a few days earlier, considering he’d just transferred, and he desperately didn’t want the reputation of the ‘panicky scared freak’ that he’d had at his old school.

So when in the middle of a conversation he felt the familiar drumming of his heart and lump rising in his throat David gently pushed Jacks arm off of him. This earned a confused look from the table and a concerned “You okay Dave?” from Jack.

Dave. The lump in Davids throat grew at least two sizes larger and he stumbled out of the seat, glad that it was probably too dark to see the blush taking over his face. “B-bathroom” Silently cursing his stutter he rushed off before anyone could stop him. When the loud chatter of conversation seemed to bleed through the walls of the abandoned restroom it was all David could do to keep from sliding down the wall and crying.

“I 2 3 4 5” Slowly counting and going through his routine breathing exercises David felt his pulse slow and the lump in his throat unknot itself. Taking one last deep breath he walked back out to the group and made up some lame excuse about getting caught up when his mom called him. This led to the boys all teasing him about how ‘sweet’ he was, brushing off his weird behavior as just being David.

————————————–

The second time he has an attack around Jack it’s during lunch. It was Davids second week at their school, and most of the boys had learned that David was not touchy. Although he was affectionate he showed it through exasperated sighs and sheepish smiles, because touch just wasn’t his thing (giving or receiving).

Jack was the one exception. The way he’d casually place an arm around Daveys shoulders and how he’d always greet him with a hug all made Dave feel safe. Jack was always patient, at first he’d constantly asked permission but within just a few days he and Davey had learned to communicate almost telepathically. And the boys all recognized this and respected it. Davey didn’t like being touched and if you did something he wasn’t comfortable with then you had to deal with a pissed off Jack Kelly.

So when Skittery’s (slightly annoying) cousin Franky sat a little too close to David during lunch it set red flags off in his mind. Choking out laughs and keeping his gaze fixed on Jack and Racetrack who were on his other side David tried to pretend he was fine. Tried to pretend that just the body heat of Franky wasn’t making his hands shake and his heart hammer.

“Ugh Collins is such a dick Davey!” Groaned Jack overdramatically as he chomped down on his pizza. “I mean who assigns a packet over the weekend?!” Scrunching his nose as his friend talked with his mouth full David gave Jack a stern look, smiling when Jack swallowed his food before speaking again. “Over freaking Romeo and Juliet! The most overrated book of all time!”

Across the table Romeo let out an offended scoff, which made them all burst into giggles. David had almost forgotten about The over enthusiastic kid sitting much too close to him until Franky casually draped an arm around Davids shoulders as he was laughing. Nobody else seemed to have noticed until Davids laugh suddenly cut off and he sat rigid.

Racetrack was the first to notice what had made David suddenly so uncomfortable and a fierce glare was sent to Franky. A few others (Romeo, Skittery, and Blink) also sent dirty looks to Franky but he didn’t seem to get the message.

Then Jack noticed, and right underneath the surface he was livid. “Hey Franky” he calmly greeted in a saccharine sweet voice. The mentioned boy leaned over David to hear what Jack had to say, which only made it worse.
Squeezing his eyes shut and hunching his shoulders closer to him David tried to slow his breathing. “How about you let go of Davey here okay Franky?” There was a sickly sweet venom to Jacks voice as he smiled at Franky.

Leaning back into his seat Franky laughed, “Aw, he yours Jack?” The comment itself made Jack nearly boil over but what happened next made the entire table mad.

He squeezed David and pulled him into his side, ruffling his hair. Shooting out of his seat David dashed towards an abandoned hallway, his legs shaking so bad he nearly couldn’t stand.

“He don’t belong to nobody you dick” A Seething Jack shoved Franky’s chair back before running after Dave.

'Not today not here’ David thought frantically. Everything around him faded into a blur as he gasped like a fish out of water, too panicked to even think of his breathing exercises. Slipping down to the floor he tried desperately to think of anything, resorting to tears when it didn’t work.

“Shit Dave”

The discord inside Davids head calmed the tiniest bit as he recognized Jacks voice. But he was acutely aware of the fact that Jack was panicking a little bit too.

“Hey hey just breath okay? Count with me bud”

A barely managed nod enough for Jack and he was surprised when David grabbed one of his hands, squeezing tight. Wasn’t affection the reason for Davids current panic anyways?

“1 2 3”

Squeezing Davids hand Jack sat down across from him, letting out a relieved sigh when his counts were finally repeated.

“1-1 2 3”

They continued counting until Jack felt Davids hands stop shaking and his stutter all but vanished. “I’m sorry Davey, I knew Franky was sitting too close but I figured it wouldn’t get too bad.” The two sat with their back against the lockers, Jacks arm draped across Davids shoulders and David leaning into his side for support.

“Its fine, I get these all the time” Jacks breathing hitched and David winced. 'He thinks you’re a freak, a wimp. He’s gonna leave you like everyone else’

But Jack didn’t leave, he squeezed David just a little bit closer to his side. “Why didn’t you tell me Dave? Is that why you left at dinner the other night?”

And so they spent lunch and their free period discussing Davids anxiety and how Jack could help.

—————————————-

The third time David has an attack around Jack, Jack does everything he can to prevent it.

Several of their friends were in the band and so he’d joined Jack and Crutchie for a football game to see their friends play. David had yet to attend any games because a football game was just about the worst place for somebody with sensory overload issues and a pretty severe anxiety. But Jack promised he’d be with him all night, and so David allowed his best friends to drag him to the game.

“Popcorn Dave?” Crutchie asked, holding it out towards his friend who shook his head. Currently the three sat towards the top of the bleachers because it was less crowded and Jack assured David 'you can see better up here anyways’. Jack and Crutchie sat on either side of him, David leaning into Jack who had an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. After a particularly bad call yelling and shouts rippled throughout the audience and David nuzzled into Jacks scarf.

“It’s too loud Jacky” Wincing at the quiet tone of the curly haired boy who was hiding in his scarf Jack nodded.

Pushing Davids hair off of his forehead Jack placed a light affectionate kiss on the exposed patch of skin, which only made David burrow into his scarf more in an attempt to hide his intense blush. “How about I go get you a hat or some earmuffs?” After a second of hesitation David nodded because Jack wouldn’t take longer than five minutes and Crutchie himself had an anxiety problem and knew what to do if an attack happened. “I’ll be right back okay?” Gently Jack shifted David over towards Crutchie, who smiled brightly and held Davids hand to assure him that somebody was still with him.

“Thanks Jack”

Watching Jack walk down the stairs and away from him made Davids heart panic. He knew it wasn’t healthy, this unsafe feeling he got whenever Jack wasn’t around. Pushing it down he instead leaned into Crutchie who jumped a little in surprise because David normally wasn’t comfortable with much more than occasional hand holding.
A moment later he smiled and melted into the affectionate gesture, holding Davids hand just a bit tighter.

“Dave do you even like football?” Sheepishly David shook his head and Crutchie laughed. “Me neither, but Jack sure does have a way of convincing people to do things. Wanna watch Netflix on my phone instead?” With a nod David snuggled even further into Crutchies side.

That’s how Jack found them 10 minutes later when he returned with nachos and a cute red and yellow beanie for David. When he saw his best friend since kindergarten and his new best friend cuddled up on the bleachers and giggling hysterically at something on a phone screen he couldn’t stop the affectionate smile on his face. God he had already known he loved Crutchie, but now Dave comes along with his crystal clear blue eyes and his curly hair and sarcastic comments and random facts. Jack should feel guilty shouldn’t he? After all somebody had once told him it was impossible to actually love 2 people at the same time.

Then again, when did Jack Kelly ever listen to what anybody else said?

—————————————-
The fourth time, Jack’s the one who causes it.

He really hadn’t meant to, honest. What kind of dick would intentionally cause their friend/crush to have an anxiety attack?

A few weeks ago Jack had confessed to Crutchie, babbling about how he was in love with his best friend for what seemed like hours until Crutchie just laughed and pressed his lips against his. Jack thought that once he had Crutchie his love for Davey would go away. Not that he wanted it to but it made him feel guilty.

Little did he know Crutchie felt the same way.

When he’d first heard they were together Davids heart sank. The two people he had slowly fallen in love with were in love with each other. There would probably be no more safe touches, no more protective arms placed around shoulders. No mumbled Daves, and no bright Daveys. Jack and Crutchie had each other…so why would they need him?

And so he drifted. It started with little things like denying requests to hang out, or 'forgetting’ to respond to calls and messages. (Both of them knew Davey didn’t just forget things) And then it turned into avoiding them at halls, sitting next to Skittery who sat on the other side of the table from his usual spot. The last straw was when David completely walked past their table and took a seat on the ground, leaned against the wall.

“Okay that’s it. I gotta see what’s up with him.” Standing up from his seat Jack made his way over to David.

“Jack Kelly do not confront Dave- I can’t believe you!” Skillfully avoiding students Crutchie bounded over to Jack (or at least as close to bounding as one could get when they had to use a crutch) in an attempt to stop him. “Jack you’re going to overwhelm him! Just wait and we can ask him to come over after school or something and ask then!”

Turning to face Crutchie Jack sighed. “But he won’t Crutch. He’s avoiding us and I have to know why” Continuing his speedy approach towards Dave he stopped only when he was almost directly in front of Dave.

Red flag.

Despite the fact that he knew Jack would never actually hurt him David recognized the fact that he was now trapped against the wall. And that was no good. No good no good no no no no no. Swallowing his strawberry David kept his gaze fixed on Jacks shoes. “Y-yes?”

In a tone that came off much harsher than intended Jack asked him, “Why are you avoiding Crutch and I?”

Shaking hands.

Gripping his hands together Davids shoulders tensed up and he scrambled for an answer. How do you tell your best friend that you like both him and his boyfriend? “I-Its nothing”

“Oh so you just decided to be a dick and avoid us because of 'nothing’?” The moment the words came out Jack regretted them. Everybody had problems, and Jacks was not thinking before he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean that Davey i-i just” kneeling down to Davids level he reached an arm out to pay him and flinched when David shied away, shaking violently.

“Oh now you’ve gone and done it Jack Kelly” Crutchie whispered harshly. Shooting a glare at his boyfriend he plopped onto the floor, fixing his gaze on David. “Hey hey can you count for me Davey? Just repeat after me, 12345”

Breathing shallowly David tried to copy, stutter and getting stuck and growing more and more frustrated until tears shone in his eyes.

“Dave”

He hated to admit it but god Davey had missed the sound of his nickname rolling off Jacks tongue. Missed it so much that just hearing it calmed him down. Missed it so much that he grabbed onto both Jack and Crutchie hands tightly.

Neither said anything but a glance was shared between them that seemed to convey everything they’d wanted to tell each other.

They both loved Davey, and each other. It was messy and different but it was what had happened.

A hesitant but protective arm was wrapped around Daveys shoulders and he nearly cried again, gripping Crutchies hand even tighter when he started to try and move. “I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”

Jack threw Davey an incredulous look and softly kissed his forehead. “We’ll always need you you goof.” Burrowing into his sweater David thought he would combust when Crutchie scooted next to him and placed another kiss on his forehead.

“B-but you guys have each other and I don’t wanna get in the way of your relationship because you guys deserve to be happy and I don’t wanna be an awkward third wheel so-” His rambles were cut off by Jacks lips on his. David 'walking mouth’ Jacobs was speechless as he looked between Crutchie and Jack in panic.

'Jack just kissed me??! In front of his boyfriend??’ When Crutchie leaned over to repeat Jacks actions David was even more confused. “I-I think I missed something here?”
His voice rose at least 2 octaves as he continued to panic.

“Well you see, I think I like you Davey.” The casual way Jack said it made David snort despite his panic.

“But, but Jack you have a boyfriend?”

“Yes I like him too” As if to prove the point Jack kissed Crutchie. For a minute or so David just opened and closed his mouth without making any actual noise. Crutchie had to bite back a laugh, figuring David would be a little offended if he laughed.

After the minute of David gaping like a fish Crutchie spoke up, “I like you too y'know Dave, and Jack. And we have a sneaking suspicion you like us both too.” Both older boys took the blush that crept up Davids neck as a yes. “So we were wondering if you wanted to be a relationship with us?”

At the renewed look of panic on Davids face Jack scrambled to calm him down. “It’s gonna be messy and weird and if you don’t want to then that’s fine. But we really do both like you Dave.” Squeezing his anxious friends shoulders Jack chewed on his lip as he waited for an answer.

“I-I’d like that, I really would.” Smiling shyly at his friends, boyfriends now he supposed, David nodded. “Yeah I think I’ll like that.”

Say No To This (M) – Best Friend!Hoseok

Originally posted by ohparkjimin

Summary: It’s been a while since you and Hoseok have spent time with each other, but he hasn’t forgotten how hard it is to say no to you.

Warning: Smut, oh my lord is there smut

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: So I’ve had Say No to This from Hamilton stuck in my head for the past week and it somehow inspired BFF!Hobi sex.

Sequel: Ambiguous (M)

Keep reading

Blue (Ain’t Your Color)

Title: Blue (Ain’t Your Color)

Summary: When the reader’s feeling down after a case, Dean’s there to help. Sweetness ensues. 

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 770

Warnings: A smudge of angst. References to a hit and run. Mentions of death (like for a second). Other than that, this is pure fluff.

Author’s Note: This is my sumbission for @torn-and-frayed‘s Halloween with Dean drabble challenge.  Steph, thank you so much for organizing this and letting me participate, I always love writing more of Dean.

My prompt for this was “candy corn” and you’ll find it inserted into the fic.

Enjoy <3

Originally posted by frozen-delight


One of the things you love about Dean Winchester is his ability to make you smile.

Admittedly, the life the two of you lead isn’t easy and there are nights you’re your world seems to revolve around nothing but death and hatred, nights when you’re swallowed by darkness and all you have is each other.

Even then though, Dean fights to keep the smile on your face, no matter the cost. It’s there in the way he says silly things to make you laugh, or the way he makes you dinner and spends the night holding you. It’s in that tender nose kiss and the whispered I got you, kid when he tucks you against him. It’s in the way he loves you.

Tonight, however, even that can’t help.

Keep reading

On the subject of gender

I haven’t written anything in a while, and this isn’t very good, but oh well. Hope everyone enjoys it!

Summary: Logan had to be a boy, right? That went without saying; if Thomas was a boy, then Logan surely was too. But what if Logan wasn’t a boy?

Word count: 1482

Keep reading

That's my name

(A/N):I LOVE SOULMATE AU’S

Request:  Could I request a Bucky x reader? In a soulmate au where everyone has their soulmates name on them like a tattoo in matching places. And the reader is an engineer, who has been living under a fake name and hiding the mark on their left wrist, that Hydra wants to capture and while trying to protect the reader Bucky finds out its them, but he’s been thinking that his soulmate is long gone and is pretty shocked and happy about it. Please?

Warnings: swearing


Originally posted by captaincentenarian

   Bucky had made a slow recovery, it had taken years of therapy, years of medicines, years of pain and hell but he had finally done it, he was finally the old Bucky again. He still struggled with the PTSD, the nightmares, but that was expected, other than that his mind was free of Hydra, of brainwashing, of words and codes that made him bendable to hydras will, he was finally free. He was free to live his life, to do what he wanted , eat what he wanted, sleep when he wanted, love who he wanted- no, that part wasn’t true, he couldn’t love anyone he wanted.

    Once upon a time he’d be destined for someone, just as everyone was in his world, soulmates actually. Back before he had lost his arm he had the name (Y/N) (Y/L/N) printed on his wrist in small, black lettering, but after the fall he had lost his arm. Then hydra immediately began with the brainwashing, making it nearly impossible for him to remember the words that had once been printed onto his wrist. 

   He clung onto the name for dear life and yet he never could, he couldn’t even remember his own name much less someone he hadn’t even met. Needless to say after years and years of brainwashing he had completely forgotten that he had a soulmate, the idea was almost foreign to him but after coming out of Wakanda a new man he remembered that everyone in this world had someone and he didn’t. He remembered the name printed on his wrist all those years ago but that was exactly the problem, it was years ago, he doubted his soulmate had survived 70 years, it was pointless to even try but fortunately the universe had a funny way of working things out, soulmates included. 

   The avengers had been sent on a rescue mission, a rather valuable engineer, one that shield wanted to rescue (for reasons unknown), but Hydra had their best agents scoping the poor thing out. No one knew the ins and outs of hydra better than Bucky so of course he was assigned to the mission, of watching (Y/N) until shield could intervene and help Bucky bring them in. So that’s how he ended up where he was now, scoping (Y/N) out as they ordered some coffee from a small cafe. 

   "If you wanted to be less obvious maybe not constantly talking to a com in your ear would help,“ A sudden voice whispers to him, nearly making Bucky jump out of his skin. He whipped around, glaring at whoever had interrupted his mission but he froze when he realized it was his mission and they were staring right at him. "You new to this whole agent stuff?” The agent asks as they sit down, casually sipping their drink. Bucky looked at them dumbfoundedly, as though he couldn’t believe they were addressing him like this. “Since you’re not aiming a gun at my head or making any attempt on my life I’m assuming you’re one of the good guys?” Bucky coughs a bit, clearing his throat immediately afterwards. Well they sure as hell were…forward. 

   "You know people can hear you right? You still have agents on your ass even if I’m here,“ They smile gently, sipping at their drink gently. 

   "I’m not worried, I’m sure you’d scare them off. So I assume you’re here to protect me, right? Keep an eye on me, intervene if anything happens?" 

   "Well that was the plan until you sat down and completely foiled every plan I had,” They smile gently, this time a bit more genuine than the last time. It was…it was really cute.

    “I’m Alex,” They offer their hand to Bucky, extending their left hand out to the agent. 

   Bucky goes to shake their hand, gripping it gently but he stopped when his eyes caught their wrist. They had tried to cover something on their skin with makeup but due to their sleeves and the rather terrible weather it was beginning to melt away, revealing a few small, black letters. 

   He knew it was stupid to hope, after all, millions of people could have the same tattoo in the same place but then his eyes caught onto the last name Barnes. His last name. Bucky gulped as his eyes scanned the entire tattoo, the entire tattoo of his own name. James Buchanan Barnes, printed in the same black lettering that he once used to have. 

   "That’s my name…“ Bucky whispers, his eyes still transfixed on their wrist. 

   "What? Alex?" 

   "No,” Bucky shakes his head, gulping as he does. “James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky gestures to (Y/N)’s wrist, alerting them that they were exposing a rather personal detail about them self to Bucky. (Y/N) looks down at their hand, immediately ripping it out of Bucky’s grasp as they pull their sleeve down. 

   "You’re name isn’t really Alex…“ Bucky whispers, his brow furrowe an nose crinkled in thought. "You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Alex- or (Y/N)- looks around them in fear, shushing Bucky not so quietly. “You’re my soulmate,” Bucky was in sheer shock, he thought (Y/N) had died, he didn’t even think he had a soulmate anymore and now they were sitting right before him. After 84 years of waiting Bucky had finally found his soulmate. 

   "Yeah, well prove it,“ (Y/N)’s tone is slightly venomous, almost defensive as they glare at Bucky, their arms folded over their chest. Bucky looks to his metal arm, the left one, the one that once had a soulmate mark. His fingers reached for his sleeve as he pulled his gloves off, exposing the metal hand. Then he slowly rolled his shirt sleeve up, exposing the shining metal plates. 

   "You may want to check a ravine in Europe, that’s the last time I saw my arm,” Bucky whispers as he traces his wrist, right where the soulmate mark should have been. He felt almost naked without it now, all strange and exposed. 

   "No one knows my real name,“ (Y/N) bites their lip as they reach out, brushing their fingers along Bucky’s wrist. "I’ve been living under a fake name for years, there’s no possible way you could have known that-" 

   "Unless we were soulmates?” (Y/N) nods, gulping as they do. Bucky looks up at (Y/N) biting his lip as they traced all along his wrist, as though trying to see if they could feel a remnant of the tattoo that once used to be there. 

   "Well,“ Bucky smiles gently as he shifts his hand a bit, just enough to clasp (Y/N)’s hand in his gently. "You made quite the introduction, soulmate,” (Y/N) smiles a bit as they look at their intertwined hands, staring at the stark contrast between metal and flesh.

    “Didn’t you say we were being watched,” (Y/N) looks up at Bucky, their smile growing a bit by the minute. “If we don’t want to end up shot within seconds I think we should continue this conversation somewhere safer,” Bucky smiles as he rises to his feet, taking (Y/N) with him. Even now they don’t let go of each other, their hands remained locked together. 

   "We’ve got a safe house a few miles from here,“ Bucky can’t help but feel a bit giddy. A safe house for him and his soulmate- the one he was destined to be with. "Then shield will come pick us up Tommorrow," 

   "Shield, guess I was right about you being a good guy,” Bucny chuckles softly as he begins to walk through the cafe, taking (Y/N) with him.

    “You sure were,” one day he’d tell them about his past, about how at one point he hadn’t been the gold guy, how he’d been a part of the same organization that was hunting them but that was for another day, today was about getting to the safe house and holding each other as though their lives depended on it. 

   Bucky may not have been able to fall in love with whoever he wanted but now as he held (Y/N)’s hand, guiding them through the streets, keeping them safe, he realized he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to love.

Reflex (J.A)

Request - “Hi, I have a Jack imagine request (if ur still taking them). Anyways we get into a huge fight and it’s serious and the girl in one moment thinks he’s gonna hit her (i know he’d never do that) and he starts apologizing etc and a lot of fluff:3”

Warnings: angst, mentions of physical abuse, swearing, underage drinking


“Why are you standing here all alone?” Christina asks as she walks up to you, two cups of whatever the hell there was to drink at the party in her hands. She hands one to you, which you graciously accept before downing half of it.

“Beats me,” you sigh, gesturing to Jack who was busy hanging out with his friends to notice that you’ve been staring down at your phone and glancing around the party every now and then to partially tame your boredom.

“How long has he been over there?” Christina frowned.

“A little more than half an hour. I’ve lost count,” you sigh, looking down at the plastic cup that imitated glass in your hand, swirling the liquor being held in it.

“Are you serious?” She scoffs.

“Deadly. When did you get here?”

“Just now. I came with Corbyn, but he went to the bathroom and I saw you back here when I went to get something to drink,” Christina sipped at her own cup before slightly crossing her arms, minding the drink. “You look too cute to just be doing nothing in a club filled with party animals.”

“At least someone’s appreciating my outfit,” you slyly grin at her, to which she grins back. “And your dress is hot, too.”

“Thanks,” she laughs before glancing around the crowded room and pursing her lips. “Okay, come on.” You furrow your eyebrows when she takes the cup out of your hand and places both of your drinks on the nearest table. She takes your hand into hers and drags you into the crowd of dancing sweaty people.

“Okay, we’re doing this,” you say more so to yourself than Christina. Just as the two of you reached the middle of the dance floor, the DJ plays the dubstep remix of Lush Life and you feel the energy from the people surrounding you reaching out for your body.

A smile made its way onto your face when you saw Christina run her hands through her hair while she swiveled her hips and laughed at the energetic adrenaline ran through her.

Almost subconsciously, your arms lifted into the air above you as you rhythmically moved them around, shaking your head and crazily dancing along with everybody else. The music grew so loud you couldn’t even hear the loud feet of people jumping against the ground, only the feeling of the vibrations connecting with your mind.

You were ecstatic that Christina came when she did because if not you’d most likely still be standing in that corner watching meme compilations on Instagram. But she was here and you were having the time of your life with the girl.

Some time must’ve passed because currently you and Christina were about five party songs in and nothing could stop you at this point. Excluding the excruciating pain of the heels you were wearing.

You knew that the more alcohol consumed the less pain you’d feel, so that’s what you planned on getting. You almost went back to get the drink Christina had gotten you before but it’s been after twenty minutes since you’ve last touched it and the probability of it being roofied by that point was very high.

So you went to the bar and got more drinks with the help of your fake ID. You eventually made it back to Christina and the two of you continued dancing for what seemed like forever.

After some time passed, you and Christina made a few friends. A group of girls had accidentally danced into you both repeatedly and eventually came to terms that dancing with each other could be fun. Nobody knows how you all ended up twirling each other around and giggling at one another’s dance moves, but what you knew was that you made four new temporary friends.

You don’t remember when Christina left, but you can faintly recall her saying she was going to find Corbyn.

“That guy is staring at you!” Sarah, one of your new friends, gestures to someone over your shoulder. You turn, expecting and hoping that it’d be Jack, but was surprised to see an attractive blonde staring at you from the other end of the club.

You shook your head and turned back to the girls. “I have a boyfriend!” You told them, more like shouted, over the music.

“He doesn’t know that,” Lyla, another friend, winked. You shook your head with a small smile, knowing that even though you were pissed, you’d never even think of kissing anyone besides Jack. As annoying and careless as he could be at times, you loved him with all of your heart.

More time flies when you realize you’ve been shaking your ass off for two hours straight. You were trying to keep your pants in as you told the girls that you’d go take a seat for a bit and look for said boyfriend.

What you weren’t expecting was for the blonde from earlier to snake his arms around your waist from beside you.

A gasp left your lips as you looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. Just thought I’d ask you for a dance,” he grinned down at you.

“I-uh- sorry. I have a boyfriend,” was all you could muster up, not even thinking about how typical that must’ve sounded to him.

“Where is this so-called boyfriend?” The stranger with the blonde hair abruptly twirls you with your wrist, catching you by surprise.

“He’s actually here, so if you could-” you attempt to have him let go of you but his grip stays as tight as when he first latched on.

“This boyfriend doesn’t seem like a good one. Nobody with someone so beautiful should let her dance along for two hours.”

“How would you have known-”

Y/N, what the fuck?” You instantly turn to the voice to find that it was Jack’s that was behind it. Your eyes widened when you realized that the blonde stranger guy still had you in his arms.

“Jack,” is all you can muster up, squirming out of your admirer’s arms.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jack asks, and at first you think this is being questioned at you but when you shyly look up to connect eyes with him, you see he’s viciously glaring at Mr.Blonde Strange Guy.

“Just trying to show a girl a good time,” the blonde man with no current name shrugs, crossing his arms now that you weren’t in them.

“Yeah, my girl,” Jack barks.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know. Maybe you should actually be within actual distance with your girl if you don’t want anybody else hitting on her.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jack stepped up.

“Jack,” you tried to touch his arm but he ripped himself out of your grip.

“Jack quit it.” You hadn’t even seen Corbyn in the whole mess, but he stood behind Jack with Christina at his side.

“What I said was that you should pay attention to your girl when you’re out together,” the blonde guy defensively shrugged before stalking away.

Jack just scoffed and shook his head, his fists clenched in anger as he turns to you.

“What the hell, Y/N?!” Jack yells at you, causing you to flinch.

“Hey, don’t yell at her! You were the one who hasn’t paid her any attention for the past three hours! That guy was right!” Christina walking beside you.

“Stay out of this, Christina,” Jack pointed at her.

“Hey, watch it, man,” Corbyn defended his girlfriend. By now, Jack was irritated.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Jack grabbed your hand and began to walk the both of you to the exit.

“Why don’t we bring her home?” Christina tries to get to you, but Jack shakes his head.

“No, we’re good,” Jack states before marching towards the exit once again.

“Y/N,” Christina frowns as she tried to make sure that you’re okay with Jack taking you home.

“I’ll be fine,” you told her. “It’s just Jack.”

That’s the last you see of her and Corbyn before you and Jack are outside of the club, away from their eyes.

“So when I’m not around you decide to flirt up a fucking storm?” Jack calmly said while you both walked to his car.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you protested. “I told him I had a boyfriend!”

“Obviously, that wasn’t enough, Y/N,” Jack told you like it was the obvious thing in the world.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You argued. “It’s not like you were there the entire time. You were too busy with your friends. If you’re going to invite me out, at least let me know prior the outing that you’ll be avoiding me during it all.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you! You’re the one that wandered off!”

“Because I stood there with you and those guys for twenty minutes and the only time I was contributed into the conversation was when you told them I was your girlfriend,” you scoffed.

“Y/N, you’re missing the point here,” Jack points out.

“And so are you!” You fired back.

“You were in that guy’s arms!”

“I was trying to get out!”

By now, Jack kept quiet and didn’t say anything as both of you grew more agitated by the second, you more annoyed by Jack and Jack more pissed about that guy twirling you around in his arms like you guys were in some salsa class.

The ride from the club to your house was about twenty minutes long, but the awkward silence and tension crammed in between you and Jack made the ride seem more like hours.

You felt soberer than you did half an hour ago, your irritation out weighing the liquor that was in your system.
When Jack pulled into your apartment parking lot, you nearly let out a sigh of relief.

You lived with your older sister who was currently in New York with her boyfriend so you wouldn’t have to answer any questions as soon as you walked through the door.

“Y/N,” Jack said for the first time in twenty minutes. You heave a deep breath and turn to him. When he didn’t say anything else, you knew he was still stuck on the belief that you went out your way to flirt up a storm with some other guy.

You let out an exasperated huff before unbuckling your seat belt and hopping out the car, slamming the passenger car door shut and storming to the parking lot elevator.

“Y/N!” You hear him get out of the car as well and storm after you.

“Leave me the hell alone,” you snap.

“Why are you so pissed off? You’re the one-”

“I didn’t do shit, Jack!” You yelled, immediately shutting your mouth afterward. It was around midnight by now and you knew people were sleeping.

“You were in his fucking arms!”

“Maybe if you paid some attention to me, I’d be in yours instead,” you scoff, angrily pressing the elevator button.

“I was busy,” he defended himself.

“Yes, I know. Too busy to even check up on me at the most,” you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“You’re not a toddler, Y/N!”

“I know that! I’m your girlfriend! I could’ve been roofied or some shit and you wouldn’t have even known because you were too busy laughing it up with your pals!”

“You keep changing the subject!”

By now, you were on your apartment floor and walking to your home with Jack on your heels. When you had gotten into your apartment, you tried to immediately slam the door behind you, but Jack was already inside by then.

“I love how little trust you have in me,” you mumble, growing tired of all the arguing.

“It’s not that- Y/N, would you just look at me?”

“Every time I look at you, you yell at me,” you throw your shoulder bag onto the couch in the living room.

“I’m just trying to understand-”

“I’ve told you a million times already! He came on to me! I told him I had a boyfriend - you’re the boyfriend, Jack! I would never cheat on you and for you to repeatedly call me out on doing so fucking hurts!” By now, tears were streaming down your face as you grew more frustrated within every passing second.

You stood not so far away from him as he watched you with flattened lips. The past few minutes have been jumbled and rushed, though the next few moments seem to go by in the slowest of motions.

As Jack goes to throw his hands in the air, you seem to think that the next thing they’ll be flying at is you. So your nonexistent reflexes kicked in as you flinched.

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed when he saw your wince towards his mere action. It was as if all the arguing and yelling was put on pause when he saw you flinch from him.

He couldn’t find what to say at first, everything finally registering in his head. He cautiously put his hands down before running one over his face.

“Did you… did you think I was gonna hit you?” He asked, slight disbelief laced in his voice.

“I-It was a reflex, I-”

“I would never hit you, Y/N,” Jack had to clarify.

“I know that,” you mutter. “I don’t know why I flinched.” You attempted to avoid eye contact as you tried to hurry and wipe the tears away.

There was nothing to be said at this point. Both you and Jack were flustered and still not a hundred percent sober and you were seconds away from barfing out all of the alcohol you had drunk that night.

You didn’t have time to kick off the painful heels as you rushed to the bathroom, quickly pulling up the toilet seat as you fall to your knees and hover over the bowl. By the time you threw up that small amount of vomit, Jack was in the bathroom.

“No, please, just leave. I don’t want you to see me like-” you couldn’t finish that sentence because another harsh feeling of sickness entered your stomach.

Jack fell to your side as he pulled your hair out of your face and into a ponytail using one of his hands to hold it up. His other hand rubs up and down your back. Not much time went by before you were done and you felt drowsy and just about done with everything.

You had washed your hands and brushed your teeth three times before leaving the bathroom with Jack still following you at beck and call.

“You need to change,” he mumbled, bringing you towards your room.

Eventually, you were clad in a random hoodie and some pajama pants while Jack put on a pair of sweatpants and a random black tee. He had always forgotten clothes here and they were always relevant for his next stay and whenever you just felt like wearing his stuff.

You sat on your bed and watched as Jack took a seat beside you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you back and into his chest.

“I didn’t flirt with that guy,” was all you needed to say. You just had to let him know that you weren’t looking for anyone else besides him.

“I know,” he sighed, twirling the strings of your hoodie around his finger.

“And I don’t like it when you bring me places only to ditch me afterward,” you mutter.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs back, shifting you upwards so you’re facing him, both of you now lying on your sides while gazing into one another’s eyes. “All the yelling and screaming,” he sighs.

“I hated it,” you say.

“I did, too,” he brushes some of your hair behind your ear. “I just became really annoyed seeing that guy all over you and when I couldn’t take it out on him I took it out on you and you thought I’d… you thought I’d hit you.”

“I know you’d never hit me,” you told him sincerely.

He didn’t respond, a small sigh leaving his nose as he stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.

“Tonight did not end the way I wanted it to,” he quietly admits, bringing you more into his chest. “I said things I didn’t mean and I want you to know that it was just me being a jealous asshat. That guy was right about me not treating you right.”

“That’s not true,” you frown. “We all make mistakes… we just gotta learn from them in order to understand never to do it again.”

“I should’ve known-”

“Well, you do now. And you’re apology was genuine.” Silence took over the room after you said that, the both of you lying in each other’s arms comfortably.

“I love you,” Jack murmurs, breaking the silence, planting a kiss on your forehead. You could hear the drowsiness in his voice, meaning he was on his way to sleep.

“I love you, too,” a small yawn left your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you fall asleep to the steadiness of his breathing.


Masterlist | Request Here

Title: Better Off Beautiful
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Peter Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: Self-hatred
Word Count: 1,090
Notes: Request from anon for “Helloooooooooo! I love your blog! I was wondering if you could write a Peter Maximoff fic based off ‘Better Off Dead’ by Sleeping With Sirens where the reader seriously (COMPLETELY) hates herslef and one day Peter just finds a notebook in her room where she has a long-ass list of things to hate about herself? Its a bit weird but could you maybe write this? Tysm!!😙😙” // Always remember that you should work towards loving yourself entirely on your own, rather than wishing for someone to come along and make it so. Everyone is beautiful and perfect in their own way, regardless of the opinions of others. I really hope this fic made you feel a bit better, but please remember that you must love yourself first and foremost. ♥

Originally posted by quicksilver-gifs

Keep reading

2

because the lovely and talented @hanluvr requested Rose + Tentoo for 20. In a fantasy/medieval inspired outfit and now I have approximately 8000 headcanons in which Sera Rose Tyler, Knight of the Powells, along with a mysterious mage known only as the Doctor, travel the countryside offering aid to those in great need (sometimes on foot, but often in the Doctor’s fantastic flying contraption, the great Airship TARDIS); Rose never asks how he always seems to know who needs them most, or how the TARDIS works, or even his own name–in return, he says nothing about her scars, or the great wolf’s-pelt about her shoulders, or how her golden eye, for all that it should be blind, seems to see the world in a way no one else can. (Neither of them mentions how at night, their dreams are full of fantastic things–stars, strange creatures, other worlds, former lives, and each other…)

Anniversary Fic

This is my contribution to the first day of Carry On’s Bday Weekend! Thank you @eroticspookfest for being an amazing beta! plan on posting one or two more during the weekend. Check out the @carry-on-bday-2017 page to see other anniversary works!

Word Count: 2141


Simon

The flyer in Simon’s hand seemed incongruous with the ancient walls around him, common school supplies and archaic architecture colliding. It looked as if someone had gone a little overboard with Microsoft Word Art when they had made the thing. He watched Penny’s face as her mouth broke out into a huge grin. Oddly enough, most of the students in the dining hall looked just as excited as her. 

“I don’t get it,” Simon said, frowning.

Penny looked up from the flier, still grinning.

“What?”

Simon gestured to the entirety of the dining hall.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” He said.

Penny stopped smiling and studied him carefully. Agatha stopped talking to Rhys and turned to stare as well.

“Simon what are you even saying?” Agatha asked.

Simon shrugged.

“Who cares if it’s the 500th anniversary of the school? I mean sure it’s cool but, I don’t see why everyone cares so much.”

Penny huffed.

“Simon, even in the Normal world this sort of thing would be big.”

Simon shrugged.

“I guess.”

“The school has been around for half a millennium, that’s a huge deal Simon!” Penny said.

“I thought we didn’t know when Watford first began,” Simon said, embarrassed that everyone was looking at like he was an idiot.

Penny smirked.

“No, but we do know when they started keeping student records.”

“Which was in the year 1517. So we count from there,” Agatha added.

“Well I still don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” Simon said.

“Of course you don’t. If something doesn’t involve food or killing then the concept is utterly lost on you.”

Simon whipped around to see that Baz had been passing by their table and had stopped to deliver his comment, sneering all the while.

“Explain it to me then, since you’re so smart,” Simon snapped.

Baz smirked.

“All you had to do was ask.”

He sat down next to Simon. Recoiling slightly, Simon moved to put some space between the two of them as Baz ripped the flier out of his hands.

“An anniversary, like any other holiday or birthday, means that magic will be stronger than usual. We’ll be able to say stronger spells, create more powerful potions, and make the impossible happen.”

Simon hated the way Baz talked. It was as if he could make anything sound romantic.

“And there will be one hell of a party. Think of the Leavers Ball, except ten times more elaborate.”

Simon felt a flicker of unease.

“If magic becomes more powerful during an anniversary like this then won’t I be more…” Simon trailed off.

Baz grimaced.

“Yes, I imagine you’ll go off like a firework by the end of the night. Ought to make for amusing enough entertainment.”

With that, Baz rose and went back to his own table. As he sat, Simon saw Dev and Niall snicker, their eyes sliding over to Simon. He felt his cheeks warm.

“He’s such a prick,” Simon said, scowling.

“Ignore him Simon, you’re not going to go off just because the magic is stronger on that day,” Penny said.

But she didn’t sound totally convinced of her own statement and Agatha was eyeing him as if he were a ticking time bomb.

Baz

Snow had been anxious all week long. He could feel his magic practically twitching in the air in their room at night. Baz wasn’t getting sleep, which was making him snarkier during the day and in turn making Snow’s anxiety even worse. Baz hadn’t meant to set all of this off. All he’d wanted to do was ruffle Snow’s Normal skepticism a bit. He was paying for it now.

“Snow, can we talk?” He asked.

Snow paused, his tie still undone and shirt open.

“Why?” He asked, eyes narrow.

Baz rolled his eyes.

“Relax. I’m being serious,” He said.

“Fine,” He said, sitting rigidly on his bed.

“You’re not going to destroy Watford tomorrow. So can you just relax?”

Snow’s jaw hardened.

“I’m not sure why you’re trying to make me feel better but lying to me isn’t going to help. I saw it written all over Penny and Agatha’s faces.”

Baz frowned.

“Then just don’t go off.”

Snow raised his eyebrow, his expression angry.

“Why didn’t I think of that? You’re totally right. Just don’t go off, as if I can control it.”

“What usually makes you go off?” Baz asked.

“The Humdrum,” Snow said.

“And?” Baz pressed.

Snow glanced up at him.

“You,” He said.

Baz wished Snow meant that his uncontrollable desire for Baz was what made him go off. But he knew better, Snow went off because Baz pushed him to go off.

“I won’t bother you tomorrow then,” Baz said.

Snow smirked.

“As if you have control over that any more than I do over my magic.”

Baz wished they were flirting, not discussing their mutual hatred.

“I’ll do it, if it means you’ll calm down.” Baz said.

Snow looked confused.

“Why?” Snow asked.

“To protect Watford,” Baz mumbled.

To protect you.

Simon

It was the day of Watford’s Anniversary. As soon as Simon had woken up, he’d felt the difference in the magical atmosphere. There was a low hum in the air, not something he could actually hear but a tension he could feel. Part of him had wanted to throw up; another part of him had wanted to go off. Somehow, he managed to do neither. 

When he’d opened his eyes he had found that Baz was gone, bed already made and cold. Simon felt a small flicker of disappointment, Which was stupid, he should have felt grateful. Baz was doing exactly what he’d said he would do the night before, not bother him. Still, he had wanted to ask Baz what it was like for him, the extra power. Mostly it was just making Simon feel sick, overfull and depleted all at once.

When he had finally roused himself and made his way to the dining hall, he found that the sensation was worse. He felt like he might actually pass out from the amount of magic around him. 

“Isn’t it great?” Penny was asking.

“It’s weird, my magic doesn’t feel so, I don’t know, tense?” Agatha said.

“Anniversaries are amazing,” Penny breathed.

Simon felt his breathing rate go higher.

“Simon?” Agatha asked, concern in her voice.

Simon shuddered.

“I’m sorry, I just…it’s too much.”

Penny frowned and went to place a hand on his shoulder. The touch of her hand, even through the fabric of his uniform, burned.

“Merlin,” Simon moaned, backing away.

Penny ripped her hand away, eyes frightened.

“Did I hurt you?” Simon whispered.

She shook her head.

“Then what is it?” He asked.

Penny’s eyelashes fluttered, concern and confusion in her eyes.

“I think that I…well I think that I hurt you Simon.”

Simon frowned.

“How is that…even possible?” Simon asked.

“It was like…I could feel your magic,” Penny said.

Simon froze.

“I could feel and…I could use it,” Penny whispered.

Baz

Snow had left the dining hall hours ago and disappeared. He was missing all of the ceremonies and festivities. Baz wanted very badly to go see what was wrong with him but he worried that his presence would just make everything worse for him. Was it sick, Baz wondered, to be in love with someone and know that you were the very thing that made their life miserable?

He approached Bunce instead. 

“What’s wrong with Snow?” 

Penny finished her bite of cake and glared at him.

“Why on earth would I tell you of all people?” She asked.

“Because I’m trying to help him,” Baz said.

Her face crumpled into a look of disbelief.

“Why?” She asked.

He tried to come up with a reasonable excuse. To come up with any excuse. But he couldn’t. He was too worried about Snow to have a mask ready and in place. All of his feelings were written on his face and he knew it.

She gasped.

“Oh my god…” She whispered, studying him.

“Just tell me what’s wrong with him,” He said.

“All of this extra magic, for whatever reason part of it is coming from him. When I touched him, it was like my body absorbed a little more than everyone else. I-I hurt him Baz, I didn’t even mean to but I did.”

Baz felt his stomach drop. There were hundreds of people out for the anniversary. All of them were using magic, more than they would normally have been able to. Baz had always known that Snow was made of magic, but he’d never entertained the idea that all of that magic could be accessible to others, under the right circumstances. 

“I need to go check on him,” Baz said.

“Baz I don’t think-“

“I don’t care,” He said.

Then he was running.

Simon

He felt like he was dying. Maybe he was, it wasn’t as if he could tell. The room was a haze of buzzing, each vibration alighting painful nerves along Simon’s body. He felt like he was bleeding out. Except that he wasn’t, he was losing magic, not blood. He should have realized that an event as sacred to Watford as an anniversary would do something like this to him. He was never meant to be here at all.

Tears and sweat mingled over his cheeks, his neck. He had stripped to only his boxers. He would have taken it all off, except that he was worried Baz might come back.

Baz.

In the strange haze of pain and loss Simon realized that Baz’s name brought him comfort. Baz was infuriating and mean but he was also constant. He’d stayed away just to help Watford. That had to mean he wasn’t evil. 

He knew Baz wasn’t evil, deep down. The fever was breaking down all of the walls he’d built around himself over the years.

Baz was annoying, insufferable, and elitist.

Baz was the only one Simon wanted to see right now.

The door to their room opened. 

Simon waited to feel the roiling nausea that had accompanied all the other times Penny or Agatha had come to visit him during the day. He felt none of that. Instead he felt the buzzing in the room lower slightly.

“Baz?” Simon gasped.

He sat up and saw that Baz was staring at him, his expression caught between horror and caution. He must not want to make me go off Simon thought. 

“I can go,” Baz said.

“Don’t,” Simon whispered.

Baz came forward slowly, giving Simon a chance to adjust to his magic in the room.

This time the magic didn’t burn Simon. He felt his skin cool slightly, noticed as the buzzing decreased even more.

“Come closer,” Simon said.

Baz did as he asked, sitting on the bed beside him.

Relief was so close that Simon wanted to drown himself in it. He wanted to bury his face in Baz’s hair, to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him into himself.

But he wanted other things too. He wanted to press his mouth into the soft flesh of Baz’s cheeks, to lightly trail a finger over the length of Baz’s collarbone. 

He wanted relief, he wanted more tension.

He wanted more.

“Baz,” He breathed, tasting his name with magic. 

It wasn’t a spell; he was too weak to make anything out of it anyways. But he watched as Baz’s eyes went brighter, as his entire face seemed to come alive as it never had before.

“Simon,” Baz breathed.

Simon felt it. Baz had said the words with magic, both of his own and of Simon’s. It didn’t hurt though, as it had with Penny. When she had tried a spell in the room with Simon, he’d felt it as though she had ripped the magic inside of him away. This wasn’t like that. Baz wasn’t taking any magic, he was sharing it.

Simon moved forward, unsure of himself. This connection was different than the others, it was right. He pushed his hands through Baz’s hair and sighed happily as the buzzing in the room stopped completely.

Then he realized where he was; kneeling in front of Baz on his bed, hands caught up in his hair.

“Simon…” 

He kissed Baz. It was strange that he had never considered doing it before.
Baz inhaled sharply but didn’t move away. He sat there and let Simon kiss him, hands getting twisty in Simon’s curls.

Simon didn’t even care that he was slick with sweat, and it seemed that Baz didn’t care either. Simon murmured his agreement when Baz opened his mouth. Their tongues collided, wrapped up in each other like their magic.

“Stay,” Simon panted, when they broke apart.

“Always,” Baz whispered.

They kissed again and this time they didn’t stop. Even when they heard the fireworks going off on the Great Lawn.