and a lump in my throat

what ever you do, don’t imagine amy going home after jake goes to jail. don’t imagine how quiet and empty their apartment feels without him. and how she can’t really remember it ever being just her apartment. it’s like he’s lived there forever. and now suddenly. he isn’t there. don’t imagine her waking up with a lump in her throat because he isn’t in the bed too. don’t imagine her not being able to bring herself to put away his leather jacket which he left hanging on the handle of their cupboard. or her staring at it for minutes on end sometimes. don’t imagine her looking up from her desk at work and almost expecting him to be looking back. don’t imagine her going to visit him at jail for the first time. how she smiles when she sees him, tears sparking in her eyes, but she swallows them down and doesn’t let them fall. not yet. don’t imagine her breaking down in the car after that visit. sobbing, her head on the steering wheel. instead imagine the smile that breaks out across her face when jake is finally released. imagine the sob of joy as jake runs into her arms and she hugs him like there’s no tomorrow. imagine her and jake going home. talking. laughing. hugging. kissing. imagine them together. imagine them happy.

dark as night

Robert calls Aaron. episode coda to 26.07.2017

It’s dark in the Mill. Once again, it’s dark as night and you haven’t bothered to turn the lights on. There’s no point, you tell yourself, like there hasn’t been much point to anything ever since Aaron left.

The days drag their heels without him here, passing like a blur, very few things distinctive enough to make a dent in the stream of your memories of the last hours. You spend most of the time living in the past, wishing you could turn back time, even though life has already taught you that it’s a futile endeavor, then mentally listing all the things you should have done differently, mapping out where you went wrong, and going back to wishing and hoping and begging a god you don’t believe in to let you make up for your mistakes.

It always ends the same, however. You, in the dark, in the house you thought would be a home and that now just feels empty. (You try not to think about the fact that I was never the house that made you feel welcome here.)

The light of your phone cuts through the darkness like a knife in a fistfight and your head snaps towards it, your blood streaming through your body faster, heart speeding up. You reach for it but the screen goes dark before you have a chance to see what it says and you curse under your breath until you push the home button and it lights up again.

It’s a text, but it’s not from Aaron. That’s all you can register before your vision blurs and you press your eyes closed as if you can pretend it’s him as long as the truth doesn’t stare you in the face. It only takes a second before you realise it’s not working.

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‘Molly.’

‘What about her?’ Mycroft inquired.

‘I love her.’

‘And?’

Sherlock shrugged his shoulder. 'And what? She loved me, I destroyed that love, and now I shall continue to live my life as I did before I made the mistake of giving in to sentiment.’

'You don’t really believe that Molly Hooper no longer loves you.’

Molly nearly stumbled pack at the heartbroken look that flashed across Sherlock’s face.

'Tell me what happened that night, Sherlock.’

Sherlock closed his eyes. Molly swallowed against the lump in her throat. She remembered every second of that encounter, every word, every arrow to her already broken heart.

— 

The Conspiracy by @the-sapphiresky (Published on FF Jan 11, 2015) 

A couple of Thursdays ago I recommended «Unlawful Imprisonment», a fic from @lilsherlockian1975 that it was indeed based on this one. So here it is!

Some well known faces are reunited to conspire and get these two dorks in love finally together! This is a beautiful fic, multi-chapter, that you can’t miss. (I just read it again and I got goosebumps with those dialogues!)

For Sherlolly TBT :)

It’s hard to describe the feeling you get when you discover that someone you thought was your friend, who you have known for your entire life, is extremely transphobic and is saying horrible things about *people like you*.

It’s like choking on a lump in your throat that slowly settles into your stomach where it grows into a cold knot of quiet discontent that just won’t go away no matter how hard you want to stop thinking about it.

Fuck gender dysphoria.

Fuck my life.

I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Two decades is more than enough.

Number Five, Category D2

Steve/Bucky

Summary: Bucky has a bad dream and needs the tickle monster to help him make it more bearable.

A/N: Based on this prompt. My title makes sense once you’ve read the fic, I swear.

Words: 884

Bucky woke up soaked, quivering, and with a lump in his throat big enough to almost suffocate him. He’d definitely had better wake up calls.

The room was still dark, but winters in New York were generally dark, so he couldn’t be sure if it was morning or still night. Steve looked wide awake beside him though, and he tried to ignore the fact that he had probably been the cause of that. Him, his thrashing, his screams. Whatever he’d done, it was all on him.

It was always on him.

“You okay?” Steve asked, despite the fact that he could most likely tell that Bucky wasn’t okay. Bucky had always appreciated him asking and giving him the chance to deny it, for now.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “Bad dream.”

Steve sat up more properly. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

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2

“I still get a lump in my throat when her dress is torn off and she runs out in the garden. Marc [Davis] always thought that was throwing her to the hounds, so to speak, to have the stepsisters rip her to shreds was more than was needed. The fact that she’s not going to get to the ball was enough. You didn’t need to tear her [dead mother’s] dress, but the sequence is beautifully structured. It gets to you.” -Frank Thomas

“Why couldn’t you ever just choose me? Are you really that scared of me?” I said defensively.
He took a long breath.
I hadn’t thought he was going to respond because he never has when I got like this.
Demanding answers.
He usually runs.
But the words spilled from his mouth.
“Yes, and I can’t have you because I fuck everything up.
I would love nothing more than to let myself be with you.” He said running his hands through his hair.
“You know I love you.” He said, eyes meeting mine as my breath stilled.
“But I will not hurt you like that.
Because I know I will,
It’s what I do.
You know it and I know it.
I will break your heart.” He told me as he cupped my face and kissed my forehead before turning away and leaving.
I was stunned in that moment.
I wanted to stop him.
But the words were stuck in my throat.
Of all the things I’ve always wanted to say in a moment like this.
I knew this was my one opportunity.
Because he was a runner.
But I couldn’t get past the lump forming.
We never spoke of it again.
But I wish I had told him that,
this already hurts.
Having him,
but not completely.
Loving him but knowing
that we would never be together.
That this was already breaking my heart.
That I would have risked the pain and heartache,
Just to have a chance together.
—  melindacarolinee
deal | pt 1 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 6,366 

part two | part three 


Eyes like ice, cold and calculating narrow over the rim of a wine glass. Soft lips press to the polished glass, the crimson complimenting tan skin. If it weren’t for the soft dent between his brows you would have assumed he had not heard you. He takes his time allowing the wine to caress his palate, eyes closed as he savors the taste.  As always, he makes you wait until the wine glass is drained of it’s dark contents. You ponder on the taste, if it is bitter upon his tongue much like his words.

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Imagine your boss, Dean Winchester, flirting with you every time he can.

“And last but far from least-” you let a small sigh, looking at the door in case someone was coming “Mr Fury asked to see you.”

“Fury? As in Nick Fury?” Dean raised and eyebrow, his interest peaking.

“Exactly. It either has to do with the damage you and Mr Stark caused on your small trip around town or-”

Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair “Come on (Y/n), we were drunk!”

“That does not justify it. On the contrary, it was reckless to go take his suits while being drunk.” you said with a pointed look and his smile turned into a softer one.

“You know-” he leaned forward so that he was closer to you “I love it when you care so much about me.”

“Mr Winchester.” you scolded softly, not meeting his eyes but still unable to hide a small smile from your face.

“I thought that by now we had agreed on that, sweetheart. It’s Dean.” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“You know that can’t happen, Mr Winchester.” you mumbled, starting to place all of his files in place. Anything to keep you occupied from looking him in the eyes “I’m your assistant.”

“Well then we can arrange that. I could always fire you.” he gave you a cheeky grin as with wide eyes your head snapped to him.

“What?” you stood there frozen for a second until he started laughing at your expression.

“Just kidding. There’s no way on Earth I would fire my most trusted worker.” he shook his head “Besides, this enterprises would crumble down without you here to be honest.”

“Glad you appreciate my job then, Mr Winchester.” you chuckled with a small sigh of relief, shaking your head at your boss.

He rolled his eyes for a moment “That’s just not going to go away easily, is it?” he huffed, almost disappointed and you bit the inside of your cheek; still not looking at him.

“Wish it could.” you mumbled and saw him from the corner of your eye get up and walk towards you.

“You know it can-” you almost jumped at how close he had gotten without you realizing it, his breath only fanning over your cheek and his hand on your back “It’s all up to you.”

“Mr Winchester please-” you glanced at the door nervously “Someone might walk in. I just- I don’t want them to think I am taking advantage of-”

“Of who? Me? Sweetheart by all means, do so.” he gave you a boyish grin and you couldn’t stop a chuckle at his words, shaking your head.

“No. Of the time I spend with you. I- I worked hard to get this position.”

“I know, I saw it for myself.” he frowned slightly “That’s why you got the promotion.”

“Yeah, well if they see us like this they’re not going to think exactly that Mr Winchester. I don’t want people to assume I am here because I am sleeping with my boss.” you placed a hand on his chest, regretting it but still pushing him away. You couldn’t even dare look him in the eyes, you couldn’t take the heartbroken look on his face.

“But they don’t have to see us, if that’s the problem.” he suggested after a long pause and you frowned.

“What?”

“I mean if that’s what you’re most scared of- we don’t really have to tell everyone. Let them find out on our wedding day.” he added with a wink and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Mr Winchester-” you started with a small whine but you knew you didn’t have an excuse good enough. Honestly you were mostly trying to convince yourself that you couldn’t be with him than him in the first place. Besides, it was your own feelings you had been battling with mostly these days than your boss’s advances and flirty remarks.

“Come on, just give me a chance. You’ll see I’m not that bad!” he threw his arms in the air and you bit your lip.

“Mr-” you stopped yourself “Dean, I know you’re not.” you confessed looking him in the eyes “And I know that if the circumstances were different- I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. Especially after such a surprise.” you added with a chuckle and he grinned.

“You like them?” he remembered the flowers he had sent to your apartment. One of his many attempts in getting you “Took my brother’s advice in it.”

“The flowers were amazing, really.” you admitted “But I was mostly referring to the sweets, especially the pie.”

“Well, that one was my idea actually.” he confessed, full of pride and you giggled.

“Oh I bet!” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Say-” he spoke up, a hand again being placed on your back “How about I take you out… for pie and burgers and we can make a fresh start?”

“Dean” you sighed “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Hell to no.” he confessed.

“May I ask you- why are you so interested in me? Up until a few months ago I was just one of the secretaries until I became your personal assistant. But still- nothing more.” you dared look him in the eyes, only to see confusion written all over his face.

“I think we’ve made it clear that you got this position because you are the only one that actually puts effort into their work. Plus, you’re the only one that knows me so well and doesn’t dress up on purpose to show off and turn me on.” he shrugged, before pressing you close to him “That happens either way.” he added and you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness.

“I’m only wearing a white blouse and pencil shirt.” you mumbled.

“As I said- too fucking hot.” he growled almost in your ear and for the first time you let him kiss your cheek without you pushing him away.

“Dean” the way his name left your lips was definitely something you weren’t planning on.

Dean grinned widely “See? Already getting there-” he licked his lips “Do you really want to know why I am so interested in you?” he said in a low rough voice “Because you’re special. Because every morning you have walked in my office, hair a mess, no make up on and clothes a little a little wrinkled with a few buttons undone-” he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming your body “I can only think of how gorgeous you look, and how I’d love to see this sight every fucking morning. Especially after an intense night of-” he paused grinning up at you, only to see a hint of red on your cheeks.

“Gosh I would so love that.” he breathed out huskily, his breath tingling your lips as his face stood only a few inches away from yours.

“I’m- I’m not that-”

“I swear to god, if you complete that sentence I am just going to grab you and prove you wrong right here and now in any way you can imagine.” he said with a slight growl and you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling yourself shiver when his hands started traveling. You couldn’t deny you liked it a little too much.

“Do you even know the things you do to me when you lean over my desk?” he whispered, resting his forehead on the side of your head; his lips brushing past your ear “With those tight, black skirts. I’ve had such a fucking hard time concentrating during meetings just because of you. You don’t even have to touch me, hell not even say something and I know I am a goner. I can’t think straight when you are in the same room. And gosh, you’re not even doing it on purpose. You’re so clueless.” he grinned “So adorably clueless.”

“Mr Winchester” you whispered, fisting his suit jacket in your hand.

“And the way you say that- I hated it so much at first, it felt like you put a wall between us. I still do but at the same time-it sounds so innocent, so unintentional that you can’t realize how cute and hot it sounds at the same time.” he chuckled and you bit your lip.

“And as if all of that is not enough you- you are such an amazing woman. You actually listen to me when I need it, you try to understand me and you- you love rock too. You listen to me ramble about my car when my own brother always tries to make me shut up when I do. You actually know so much about me, every side of me, that no other woman I’ve been with has ever known. And that’s only because you are the one interested.”

“I can’t help it you know.” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“I know. Trust me baby, I know.” he breathed out, cupping your face and before you had the time to react he crashed his lips to yours.

anonymous asked:

You should write some mute lance, whether its him having been mute in the past, being a selective mute, being injured and becoming mute, or straight up not talking anymore, i think you'd write it well

Okay!! 

I kinda went on my own here, Whoops

On contrary to belief Lance didn’t like to talk. Well scratch that, he loved talking but he didn’t like to be talked over. Everytime he was talked over he immediately clamped up and he felt a lump form in his throat. Being the youngest in his family only lead to Lance being talked over constantly. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to stop telling a story because everyone started a different conversation. It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to never finish a thought because someone would constantly interrupt him. 

Lance wasn’t a fighter so when this happened he would just clamp his mouth shut and listen to what the other person had to say, because it was obviously more important. 

Lance found himself talking less and less around his parents, siblings, and classmates. Nobody ever commented on Lance’s new quietness so Lance had no reason to start talking again. Lance would go days without saying anything to anyone. He communicated through shrugs and nods. 

Why should I talk, everyone is happier when I don’t. 

-

Fast forward to the Garrison when Lance met his roommate Hunk. Hunk wasn’t loud but he wasn’t quiet either. Sometimes Lance didn’t even hear him enter the room while other days Lance would hear him hallways away.  He liked Hunk, Hunk never pressured him to talk, Hunk just kept him company throughout their days. 

Hunk would ramble about projects he was working on and homework and Lance would listen quietly. It didn’t even dawn on Lance that he had never said anything to Hunk before in his life. 

They were both in their room, Lance on his bed reading a book while Hunk was laying on the floor building something. 

“Dang it, these wires all look the same, I can never tell them apart.” Hunk ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. 

Lance looked at his distressed roommate and looked down at his book. “Why don’t you put colored tape around the different wires.” Lance’s voice slightly cracked due to the lack of use and Hunk screamed. Not like a small scream but like ‘help someone is getting stabbed scream.’ 

Lance jumped causing is book to fly across his bed and he stared at Hunk who was staring at Lance his hands over his mouth. 

Lance swallowed around a small lump that was forming at the base of his throat. He inhaled “Sorry I didn’t mean to…scare you?” Lance wasn’t sure what he did wrong exactly. 

Hunk blinked a few times and slowly removed his hands from his mouth. His breathing started to slow down as he continued to stare at Lance. 

Lance started to shift where he sat. Why he is just staring at me? Lance was about to bolt out of the room but Hunk regained his bearings before he moved. 

“I’m sorry for screaming! You just have never talked before and I thought you were mute or something. Then you just spoke and I got scared. Like I wasn’t expecting that at all.” Hunk inhaled until his lungs ached “Sorry I’m rambling.” 

Lance smiled at his roommate “Hunk you ramble all the time, I’m used to it.”

Hunk started to laugh and before Lance knew it he was laughing with Hunk. They only stopped when they heard a knock on their door. 

“Officer Davis, opened the door. We have a complaint of a noise disturbance.”

Hunk and Lance shared a look and started laughing and Hunk went to open the door. 

-

Hunk and Lance became best friends within a week. They had shared everything with each other, and Hunk didn’t interrupt Lance once when he was talking. If he accidently did he would apologize immediately and beg Lance to continue what he was saying. 

Lance started to love talking again. 

-

The only time Lance would have trouble talking would be when he came back from a break. When Lance was around his family long enough he would clamp up again, but slowly Hunk would bring him back out of his shell. 

-

Hunk could only do so much and sometimes it wasn’t enough. They had just saved a planet from the Galra and they were all meeting up with the leader. 

Now Lance didn’t usually talk during diplomatic missions but he felt obligated to speak up when it concerned him. The leader was discussing how helpful the blue lion was and how it help save the planet. 

“You must tell me Blue paladin, how does the ice work?” The leader placed his (hand?) tentacle on Lance’s shoulder. 

“Well you see, Blue and I ha-” 

“That’s interesting but like was it just the lion acting on their own?”

“Kinda, you see I have to put my bay-”

“So are you not needed to fly Blue? If she does all the work what do you do?”

“Well I have to fly he-”

“But they are magic lions, surely they can fly on their own.” 

Lance opened his mouth to respond but slammed it shut before any words were formed. Then Lance did what he did best, he shrugged. That was all he did. 

The leader looked at him a bit skeptical before nodding “So how does the ice get formed?” 

Lance shrugged again. He kept his eyes directly on the leader and his lips sealed. Lance was nudged by Shiro, he didn’t care he wasn’t going to talk. He looked at the leader one more time before walking towards Blue and flew back to the castle. 

-

Lance didn’t bounce back like Hunk prayed he would. It had been about 2 weeks since the last time he said anything. He just shrugged and nodded. Never even opening his mouth except to eat. The castle was quieter than any of them wanted it to be. Mealtimes were filled with force conversation and Lance scarfing down his food in order to leave. 

Even during missions Lance wouldn’t say anything, Blue would send the other lions messages so everyone knew that things were going well but Lance never talked. 

When they met new species Lance would stand in the background silently, just watching everyone. 

Hunk tried his hardest. He would talk about things he knew Lance liked, but Lance would just smile and pat him on the back and walk away. 

The team couldn’t get Lance to talk, and they tried. They did everything they could but Lance would just sit in silence. He didn’t even talk to Coran, and that broke the older man heart. 

-

The paladins were hosting a party in the castle with about 7 species from different planets. They all worked together and received a huge win. 

Everyone was talking and enjoying the party and Lance was standing by the wall sipping his drink. He watched a boy, around his age, walk towards him. 

His arms and neck were covered in tattoos and he has pointy ears with piercing all over his body. His skin was a soft blue and his hair was a bright red. He smiled at Lance and stood by him. 

The boy thanked Lance for saving his planet, and of course Lance caught onto his flirting techniques. 

Lance laughed, like a real laugh. The first laugh in weeks maybe months. It echoed through the room and every paladin heard it. They attempted not to make it obvious but they were all listening to see if Lance would do anything more. 

Lance, who was completely oblivious to what his teammates were doing, stuck his hand out to the boy. “The names Lance.” 

Self-Projecting? Do I Know Her? 

Hell yeah I was self-projecting. 

I’m basically how I write Lance XD 

I hope you like it!

Sorry it took so long!!

Thank you for this!

Btw give it up for my bisexual son ❤💜💙

Inner Vixen

Warnings: SMUT (Ages 18+)

 

Summary: You’re fed up with being the blushing, shy girl, usually too insecure to return any of Bucky’s flirtatious advances. But with a little help from liquid courage, your inner vixen makes an appearance.

 

Word Count: 3.6k

“Barnes. 6 o’clock.” Natasha whispered keeping her eyes focused on you standing right beside her at the bar. Tony’s latest rager had started approximately an hour ago and, though you would never admit to nervously awaiting his arrival, she noticed your eyes lingering on the entrance every now and again.

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{PART 21} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Just when you thought your night couldn’t possibly become any more heartbreaking; the man you thought you knew turns out to be something you had only ever considered to exist within the realms of nightmares and folklore.

“Perhaps, he didn’t want to be understood, so much as he wanted to be loved. His truth would set her free, but the question remained; would she stay?”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 20} {Part 21} {Part 22}

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Vive el Momento (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Requested: No, but @illuminateshawn and I live for drunk, festival Mendes in that red shirt from Amsterdam.

Word count: 4,947

“Can I have three large beers, thanks” I smiled, handing the girl in front of me my money. The sun was burning into my back, heating up my entire body slowly.

“I just love this weather” my friend Julia said. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to fully enjoy the warm rays of sun burning in her face.

“Me too” I agreed, looking around the festival filled with drunk people having fun everywhere.

To me, this was what summer was all about; heat, friends, music and beers. Actually, going to festivals was my happy place, I loved the whole idea of just letting go and enjoy yourself as much as possible; meeting new people and staying up until the early hours when the sun rose again.

“Girl, don’t look now but that guy… he’s looking again” Julia laughed, taking of her black sunglasses.

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Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Manchester By the Sea is incredible in the most understated way possible. It seems like it should be this extremely dramatic over-acted film, and instead it just felt like invading someone’s actual life. I didn’t actually spend any of it laughing or crying, just feeling. I was brought back to my own memories of that kind of overwhelming grief that’s awkward and you have no idea how to even deal with it. Casey Affleck says a million words without speaking. There is such an understanding of real grief and it made the whole film so cathartic. It cut like a knife and was a relief at the same time. 

"seems accurate” || newt scamander

word count: 2809

summary: soulmate au!(reader x newt scamander) → you have a tattoo of what your soulmate is most passionate about

author’s note: this can go one of two ways → one: really horribly and no one likes it OR two: people like it and i fell happy on the inside. i don’t know which one to expect. but, anyways, enjoy! (sorry for any spelling or grammar errors)

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Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - part 3

Warnings: graphic descriptions and images of sex/sexual activities. You’ve been warned my lovelies:) Enjoy!


Your P.O.V
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, basking the room with its warmth. I was tightly cocooned in a strong pair of arms, my back pressed against a muscular chest. There were soft snores echoing in my ear. I turned my head slightly, to see who the culprit of this snoring was, finding the peaceful face of my sleeping boyfriend, Zach Dempsey. 

Originally posted by sensualkisses

‘That’s right… Me and Zach… We actually did it last night.’ A sense of giddiness overcomes me. I remember last night so vividly… 

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Issues (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Jeep sex and a good bit of fluff.

A/N: This is my first story in like 8392 years and I’m so put of practice so please bare with me because it’s not great. Also shoutout to Emily. You’re the real mvp. Feedback would be great. 

Word count: 4,185

We were sitting in the jeep on the highway from Toronto back to Pickering and though we weren’t even half way yet, the drive seemed longer than usual.
Painfully longer. 

Though it was a rather warm summer day, I felt the chills run down my bare arms the soon as we got into the car. The pesky silence between us was smothering, suffocating really and made my entire body linger in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

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Someone to Watch Over Me

Title:  Someone to Watch Over Me (A Bodyguard AU)

Series Masterlist (coming soon)

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Six months ago, everything changed. Widowed and alone, Dean Winchester is determined to pick himself up and move on, so he goes back to his job as a bodyguard for Singer Protective Services. His first assignment? An actress receiving death threats, an actress with an uncanny resemblance to his wife.

You don’t want protection, don’t need it. Especially from someone as cold and impersonal as Dean Winchester. You’re not afraid of a bunch of stupid death threats, you just want to be left alone to live your life.

Two people, two very different lives. Who will be the first to let the armor slip?

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female reader, Bobby Singer, Tiny, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Georgia (OFC), Melissa (OFC-mentioned)

Word Count:  2936

Warnings: language, mentions stalking, death threats, mentions of blood

Author’s Notes: This was written for two challenges: @impala-dreamer One Prompt for All (had to be Dean x Reader, no more than 3,000 words, and the prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.”) and @luci-in-trenchcoats AU & Things Challenge (I chose Bodyguard AU). I’m not gonna lie, a lot inspiration for this came from the Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner movie The Bodyguard.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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anonymous asked:

Do u know any fics where Sherlock is jealous?

NONNNNYYYYYY YES. 

I love Jealous Sherlock so much. I know I’m missing a tonne of them here, but these are the ones I could quickly find or remember being Jealous!Sherlock! I’m also adding Possessive Sherlock here as well, because I LOVE LOVE LOVE “his / My John” SO SO MUCH and literally I fave every fic that has it in there. GUH. 

JEALOUS SHERLOCK

  • Unimpressed by 221b_hound (M, 3106 w.) – Sherlock has no intention of attending the Met’s New Year’s Eve party. The start of a new year is all but meaningless to him. But he ends up there anyway, having odd conversations, and John does not find Sherlock’s jealousy the slightest bit cute. And then there is dancing. Part 10 of Unkissed
  • Unforgiven by 221b_hound (M, 4721 w.) – Sherlock’s latest case is for his ex boyfriend, the brilliant and handsome Professor Victor Trevor. John is not too happy about that. But things aren’t what they seem, an old friend of John’s is involved in the case, and John has a few surprises up his sleeve. Also - a proposal! Part 16 of Unkissed
  • Mine (He Says While Still Being Smol) by beejohnlocked (E, 1,319 w.) – A suspect flirts with John. Sherlock gets a bit jealous. Okay, a LOT jealous.
  • Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w.) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they’ve made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.
  • For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w.) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.
  • Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w.) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock’s, and Sherlock can’t figure out why he’s so incensed about it.
  • Velvet by headlessjess (G, 1,155 w.) – It’s the day, the wedding day - John and Mary, getting married. And then there’s Sherlock, in pain and in love, without knowing how to deal with it.
  • 5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w.) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He’s charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?
  • Five Times John Noticed But Didn’t Really by ScandalousMinds (T, 6,383 w.) – 5 times John (thought) he noticed something peculiar about his and Sherlock’s relationship but really missed the obvious.
  • The Kissing Disease by cottonballz_of_death (E, 30,856 w.) – John brings home a boyfriend, shocking Sherlock, who long ago gave up hope that his straight flatmate would ever take a romantic interest in him. In a bid to reconnect with John, he tries to infect himself with a “harmless” virus. Neither of them is prepared for the emotional fallout that results.
  • Surety by hudders (G, 2,477w.) – “Sherlock is pissed because it seems that four pints of larger, two shots of tequila and a glass of wine has resulted in Lestrade becoming a little bit too friendly with everyone. And by everyone, Sherlock really means John.”
  • Butterfly, Pinned Under Glass by billiethepoet (E, 4,648 w.) – It started as a desire to keep John safe and whole, and ended up as just desire.
  • Correspondence by Cleo2010 (T, 8031 w.) – Sherlock’s been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge. Read their letters month by month. Written after series one.
  • Presence by LostGirl (M, 8625 w.) – Sherlock has recently noticed a shift in his own perceptions, but he can’t quite figure out when it started.
  • Obsession, Appassionato by shinychimera, Yeomanrand (E, 4,249 w.) – John is late, and he hasn’t called, and Sherlock works himself into a state. Part 1 of Love and Ysaye (FAVE!!)
  • Interlude by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) (G, 2,837w.) – “Are you actually doing anything?” Sherlock scowls. “What?” “Are you busy? Because if not, I could use your help peeling potatoes.” “I’m not eating what you’re making. Why should I peel the potatoes?” John just shakes his head. “Because it might be a polite and thoughtful thing to do for the person who loves you. Just a tip.”Oh…Part 8 of The Homecoming
  • Understanding by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) (T, 4,556 w.) – John’s face stretches into a smile that fades again, just as quickly. “It just comes like that, sometimes—all of a sudden. You don’t expect it.” He murmurs against Sherlock’s skin. “What does?” “Grief.” Part 9 of The Homecoming
  • Sibling Rivalry Or Fighting Over John Watson by Jessa7 (T, 8K+ w., Romance and Humour, FFNet) – Mycroft is just as much of a genius as Sherlock is. He keeps randomly kidnapping John for chats, and the locations get better. Cue Sherlock’s younger sibling complex rearing up and jealousy ensues.
  • Come Home by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 3,763 w. | more pining than jealous but close enough) – When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.
  • The Semantics of Crop Circle Formation: a case study by Sherlock Holmes [unpublished] by canolacrush (M, 41,710 | Cockblocking Sherlock) – “Look at these photographs,” I said, gesturing to the wall of crop circles. “What do you observe?”“Crop circles,” John replied.“Obvious. What else?”“Are…are those intestines surrounding them?”“Yes. The majority are bovine and ovine in origin. The farmers who have acquired these crop circles in their fields have also had a tenth of their livestock murdered and arranged thus.”“Why?” John said, presumably in a rhetorical fashion.I detest rhetorical questions. “That is what I must find out, John.”
  • Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w.) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he’s NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won’t change anything between them. And then it does.
  • That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (Sher_locked_up) (E | 35,353 w.) - Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody’s happy. [[I really like this one. Jealous John AND Sherlock and lots of Angst]].
  • Paparazzi by SilentAuror (E, 10,543 w.) – John moves back into 221B Baker Street after his marriage falls apart and the paparazzi won’t leave him and Sherlock alone about the status of their supposed relationship. Sherlock, of course, never denies it, until one day he does…
  • Pattern Behaviour by SilentAuror (E, 14,835w) – Sherlock doesn’t even know why he resents John’s dates so much. Until the day he does know. Slight angst, unrequited feelings (but don’t let that scare you off!) (FAVE!) 

OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE SHERLOCK

  • Perdition’s Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, Treklock, 63,435 w., | mild Possessive Sherlock) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe
  • The Things You Hide *Adult Edition* by verityburns (E, 10,821 w.) – Sherlock and John have been working and living together for nearly a year, each finding the other’s friendship to be the one thing they would not risk or want to live without. Until something happens to disturb the status quo…
  • Let Go by thisisforyou (G, 2,743 w.) – In the end, separating John’s things from Sherlock’s in the chaos of their sitting room is like pulling a limpet from a wet rock. Especially when the rock is clinging on for dear life, because Sherlock doesn’t want to let go. 
  • In the cherry blossom’s shade by Eliane (M, 3,934 w.) – “This isn’t new. Sherlock has already done this – has gone through cities, and dingy hotels, and sleepless nights but it was different before. John wasn’t there before. They’re in this together.”
  • The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2161 w.) –  Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious. Marrying John was the only thing he could do to ensure John was his.
  • The Light of Day by allonsys_girl (M, 7297 w.) – Rewrite of the end of Sign of Three. John actually notices Sherlock leaving the reception early, and chases after him. Angsty Johnlock. Happy ending, for sure. Part 1 of The Light of Day
  • Let the Sun Fade Out by nothingislittle (E, 2711 w.) – “He could warm the sun itself, Sherlock thinks, could heat their flat with just his presence, could brighten the room with one dazzling smile or just the sparkling in his eyes. Everything hurts when John looks this beautiful, but it’s a dulcet, aching pain, one that consumes Sherlock from the inside, that sends soft pangs through his abdomen and lodges a lump solidly in his throat. John glows, he glitters, he’s light itself, Sherlock thinks, and doesn’t even bother to scold himself for exaggerating, because he’s not, he’s not, John is everything, he’s beautiful and he shines, he’s everything.”
  • On a Sunday Morning by SD_Ryan for jimmytiberius (G, 3136 w.) – Sherlock has a little problem. He can’t stop obsessing about John Watson.
  • His by I’m Nova (T, 1K+ w., Humour & H/C) – Sherlock doesn’t share what he’s fond of. (FAVE!!)
  • Foresight by niffler09 (K, 2K+w) – It’s raining and neither John nor Sherlock have an umbrella so they huddle under Sherlock’s coat. And then Mycroft walks past and makes smartass remarks. (FAVE!!)
  • Possessive by Fang323 (T, 850w. H/c & Friendship) – His John did not belong. Not here. Not in this blasted hospital. It simply was not logical.

As I’ve said in the past, all my rec lists are of fics I’ve read, so I’m sure I’m missing a tonne more that are probably on my MFL list, but please feel free to add your own recs!