and for once there is no swear word in my cloud

I thought okay would find me when I turned away from your eyes, when the size of our hands matched the veins stretching to find commonality. my thoughts used to come easy because I was rehearsing what I wanted to tell you, the clouds would wrap the trees in a floor plan to uncover a bookmark that could save a breath to hold us together once more. I love you is a life sentence written in streams of a visionary addition, but I was still recovering from yesterday’s sadness. my feet can’t run faster than these thoughts, but I swear I’m still trying. we should have danced before we learned that finger painting works best in a broken heart. I need to find out if you’re real, so I press my lips to our past reflections– these are the words that I said to kiss us into life. Sometimes I think I love you, most days I know that I do. It’s not easy to admit these things, I know. It’s easier to break, I know. Is silence more fitting than screaming into your thoughts? I’d break the sky just to see us make it. There’s so much more to this place, but all I’ll ever need is you. If you’re not here by tomorrow, I don’t think I plan to be here either. These days needing you is an understatement. I want things to be alright, even if we’re alone. I need to know, don’t you? This is my love letter to you– forgive me if this ends horribly, I always fuck things up.
—  The Ate & The Bunso

To love me means also loving to hear all the raging thoughts in my head at one in the morning when all of my frustrations suddenly burst; it also means embracing all the quirkiness wrapped around my entirety like adoring how beautiful the stars up above midnight or how the clouds move in a slow motion to form warriors and knights; it may as well mean coming with me at Mcdonald’s when I crave for some fries and sundae at two in the morning; it’s also defined as listening to my senseless and repetitious stories about my dreams, fantasies and everyday life. To love me means swearing that you would listen to the songs I would tell to you in the middle of the day because I assure you, you’d be hearing from me talking about them from time to time.

Loving someone like me isn’t easy for I am someone scarred badly in the past. My whole system is composed of heartaches, pains, sorrows and miseries—I am imperfectly flawed but that made me who I am. To love me is to embrace those imperfections stitched through my veins. To love me means allowing me to have solitude once in a while since I have these moments that I want to shut my world down from everybody else; I have those dark times that I never wanted to talk to anybody at all and just want to lock myself in my own world. Just give me some time to think, at the end of the day I will come back to you. To love me is to tell me how much you care for me even in the slightest way—I will surely appreciate that even my form of appreciation and gratitude is to tell how corny or annoying you are, but deep down, your words mean a lot and warmed my heart. To love me means staying with me no matter how messy and difficult I could be. All I ever want is someone who will stand right behind me during my darkest and worst moments of my life.

To love me is to tell me your thoughts and opinions about the things I keep on telling you about even they mean nothing to you. To love me is to allow me to grow with you as a being physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

I am a complicated and difficult person. I am crazy, wild, freak, easily hurt and gullible. So tell me you love me when you only mean it. I don’t have time for some franks or what. I have had enough of heartbreaks in my past. I am aging and all I ever want for now is a stable and long-lasting relationship that would make me choose to stay no matter how many rocks were thrown at us or no matter how turbulent and bumpy the roads may get.

To love me means a little bit of sacrifice. But I can guarantee you that I could make you feel you’re the best person in the world and you didn’t make the wrong choice by choosing me over them. With me, I can make you feel disconnected from the rest of the galaxy. I will surely make tons of efforts for our relationship to keep going and last. It will be a tough ride for the both of us but I can assure you that it will be worth it and filled with so much fun. To love me means needing and wanting me like the way I do to you.

—  redserpent42, To Love Someone Like me
Popsicles And Kiwis

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 4800+
REQUESTED: yes !

so this came from a small request about eating a popsicle and accidentally starting something that couldn’t be finished…….i went a bit overboard with it, but i hope u enjoy some smut! please let me know what u think :-) it rLY motivates me ! [feedback] [masterlist]

~*~

Keep reading

Boredom Be Damned (Peter Parker x reader)

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary:  Prompt #2: “You’re hot when you’re angry.”

All Peter wanted to do was get his homework done before adventuring into the night, but Y/N walks in and turns his study session into a flush session.

Requested: yes @myfriendmagislit

Warning: slight language

Here’s another request for #2! So excited to write this bc this user is the og:) hope you enjoY!!! This is also kinda long so oops lol and I HOPE YOU LIKE IT !!:-) @myfriendmagislit

MASTERLIST <———————-

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Were you supposed to be on your way to Peter’s right now? No. Did you tell Peter you were on your way to him right now? No.

You were bored as hell, it was as simple as that. You tried to entertain yourself in numerous ways, even attempting to do your pre-scheduled homework for tomorrow night. But that put your state of mind into greater boredom. So, you decided you would carry your bored, sorry ass all the way three blocks to Peter’s apartment. It’s not that you only did this when you were extremely bored, you did almost every day. It just turns out that today, Peter didn’t mention to you anything about working on homework or hanging out for the night. This surprised you to an extreme length, due to the fact you and Peter were stuck like glue all day, every day.

So, you being the nosy ass you were, you decided to investigate. Which worked out perfectly because you were bored as well! Of course your sneakiness did play a part in your feet carrying you to Peter’s that night, but it wasn’t only that. And it wasn’t just the boredom.

Maybe it was the pulsing excitement that ran through your veins every time Peter would run up to you with good news about his exciting double life. Or maybe it was the way your heart grew heavy in your chest when Peter’s lean, muscled body would sit closely next to you as you worked on homework, the heat radiating off his frame to hit yours. Or it might be just spending time with your best friend—correction, beautiful best friend, that caused your feelings to intensify as you got older. Maybe it was all of those things and more, that caused your mind to shift your boredom to Peter.

You admitted these intense feelings a while ago, your instinct immediately knowing your affection for the brown eyes, sweet smiling boy as soon as you laid your eyes on him ten years ago. Your friendship blossomed, consisting of ever lasting laughs and good times, it was what everyone dreamed of in a relationship.

The only problem was, the feeling was only one sided. To your dismay, they were extremely one sided. Your friends would constantly say otherwise, swearing that he looked at you the exact way you gazed at him, but you never saw it. You knew they were just trying to make you feel better. Especially due to the fact Liz Allen was someone who constantly popped up in conversations between you and Peter. This obviously made you feel instant loss and regret. But if Peter was happy, you were happy.

You slowly let your yearning thoughts of Peter vanish before arriving at Peter’s door. You sigh, grabbing the key underneath the mat Aunt May had told you about and open the door, the silence hitting you. You shut the door slowly, walking through the living room area, searching for Peter in the so far vacant house. As no sign of Peter approaches, you walk to his bedroom door, knowing that he’d be in there. Your knuckles hit lightly against the white door, shoving one hand  in your side jacket pocket and the other holding your thermos with water as you wait for the door to open.

You hear the jiggle of the door knob and and look up, seeing a wondrous sight that made your eyes look everywhere place in the world besides Peter’s eyes.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?” he questioned kindly, quirking his head to the side at your sudden appearance at his door. You tried to remember to breath as your eyes came in contact with a very shirtless, very ripped, and very hot Peter standing before you. Clutching your cup tightly,  your eyes lingered on his sculpted abs as your mouth stood agape at the sight before you.

Thank god for boredom. What would you without it?

“Y/N?” his voice quickly snapped your dirty thoughts of him out of your mind, disrupting everything good in this world. Y/E/C meets a playful brown as your mouth snaps shut, shaking your head vigorously as you leap out of a hazed state.

Almost breathlessly you rush out, “Oh! I-I was just really bored. Needed something to do,” you finish, shrugging your shoulders at your lousy interpretation of boredom.

He raised his eyebrows, opening the door farther for you to enter. You took note of his right muscle flexing at the stretch of his arm before he spoke, “Okay. Yeah, I’m just trying to get my homework done. Tony asked me to do something when I got done, and May’ll kill me if I leave without finishing it.”

You shook your head as a sign of understanding, noticing his seemingly stressed state as you sat down on his bed. He shut the door, turning towards you with his hands on his naked hips, “But yeah you can hang here, I’m just gonna finish the assignment for Algebra. You know how picky Ms. Roberts’ can be,” he chuckled lightly, smiling in your direction.

“Oh and those papers next to you are the chemistry homework, if you need to see it.“

You nodded, a close mouthed smile adorned your lips at his sweet gaze. He sighed before sitting down at his desk, continuing his work, leaving you there.

Is this a fucking joke? Is he seriously not going to put on a shirt? He’s never done this before! But, would you want him to? The view from here is fucking incredible. Boredom be damned.

Your eyes once again scaled his half naked body, but this time it was the back view you got to see. The lamp accompanied his brain in helping him finish his work, the remnants of the light shone on his back muscles. You felt your mouth open once again as you carved the muscles with your eyes, craving to run your fingers over every curve of his body. His bangin’ body was another added bonus to Peter Parker. His sweet smile, incredible personality, and extraordinary intelligence were the major factors that made you fall for him. But this, fuck. This was part of the premium package you didn’t know you had signed up for.

You dazedly watched his shoulder move with arm as he sketched the answer quickly on his paper, and sometimes bring his arm up and run his fingers through his ruffled brown locks. You suddenly remembered the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, that had probably been there for minutes. You reached your arm up rapidly, attempting to wipe the drool silently and sneakily.

Well, that plan failed.

Because as soon as your hand hit the corner of your mouth, your elbow also hit your thermos, knocking it over and open, all over Peter’s chemistry homework that was lying next to you on his bed.

Fuck.

Eyes widened, your heart rate picked up as you made eye contact with the now soaking wet papers lying sloppily on his bed. A gasp emitted from your throat at the sight of the black ink spreading all over the drenched papers. ruining it even more. Well, your gasp awoke Peter from his intense gaze on his work to quickly looking behind him. His eyes grew at the sight of you directed to the now wet papers and thermos lying on top of them. Your mouth agape, you dared to look at Peter’s gaze hitting you like a brick wall.

He ran over to his ruined work, fingers picking up the wet paper, his gaze flashing from the homework to your guilty Y/E/C eyes staring deeply into his own, "Y/N WHAT THE HELL!”

You gaping lips barely stuttered out a response as you reached over and picked up the thermos, “P-Peter I’m so sorry! It was an accident I swear!” you rushed out, throwing the empty thermos to the ground before yanking the remaining papers off his bed and throwing them in the trash can next to you.

“Y/N THIS HOMEWORK TOOK ME FOREVER ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I WAS SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE! I CAN’T BELIEVE…”

Your eyes shut off instantly as Peter’s voice grew weak and strong at the same time, defeat yet anger taking over his demeanor. But, instead of listening to his rant about your previous actions, you watched his arms point from you to the papers, his bicep flexing every moment he stretched them. His eyebrows furrowed and raised at your gaze just staring at him like he’s speaking gibberish. But, you were noticing his arm and neck veins popping out at the stress in his voice and your insides turned gooey, his state turning you on a lot.

“… Mr. Stark needs me! He finally asked me to do something for once and I  was so ready! Now May won’t let me go! Jesus Y/N, could you of been a little more careful? You-”

Your mind shut off his anger towards you, clouding with scandalous thoughts you’ve never thought of before. This caused your thoughts and apparently brain to shut down as you interrupted his rant.

“You’re hot when you’re angry.”

Oh my god. Those words did not just come out of your mouth. What the fuck are you thinking?! Holy shit he thinks you’re some creep-

“W-What did you just say?” Peter questioned, chest slowly deflating from his previous state. You felt your cheeks sprout bright red as his figure inched closer to yours. Your brain finally wanted to work again, your eyes peeking up from staring intently at the floor after your previous comment. His nerves rose immediately, realizing your thoughts on him.

“W-What? I didn’t say-”

“Yes you did. What did you say?” now Peter’s soft brown eyes were gazing intently in yours, his own cheeks matched yours, both flushed and embarrassed. His heart raced at your sudden exposed feelings towards him, and he couldn’t of been happier.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, biting your lip in guilt as your eyebrows furrowed, “I really didn’t mean to say that. I meant to s-say t-that you were scary when you’re angry, not h-hot. Not that you aren’t hot when y-you’re angry, because you are, obviously I mean look at you! O-Oh my god, I’ll just shut up!” you hollered, an extremely nervous chuckle sprang from your throat, attempting to cover up your immense awkwardness.

Peter’s cheeks flushed even more as he heard it roll off your pretty lips once again, a smile played across his own. His eyes sparkled at your red cheeks staring at the floor. He stepped forward slightly, his head daringly leaned towards your ear, his own nervousness growing per second.

Your heart beat sped at his closeness as his lips brushed your tinted-pink ear, his hot breath whispering against your heated skin, “Maybe I should make you angry sometime.”

And you’re pretty sure you died right then and there.

Make Out (Tom Holland x Reader)

Originally posted by parkery

Summary: When Tom and Harrison buy their new apartment… they end up moving into the Reader’s building. The Reader is ecstatic, being a huge fan of the duo, particularly Tom. They’re desperate to catch a glimpse of Tom, desperate to get his attention. And they sure do… although a series of unfortunate and embarrassing accidents isn’t the way they wanted to do so. 

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader (romantic), Tom Holland x Harrison Osterfield (platonic), Harrison Osterfield x Reader (platonic) 

Warning(s): Vaguely described sexy dancing, swearing, embarrassment

Inspiration: Make Out by Rixton 

Word count: 865

A/N: I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I AM DOING THIS, TERROR IS COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS. Okay, now that that’s outta the way… I adore this song and Tom… so thought why not put the two together? Anyways, this is my first imagine in… awhile. The second one I’ve ever written, and the first one I’ve written on this blog. Please leave me some feedback! 

P.S I know I use the f-word a lot. Sorry. It’s just… ingrained into my thoughts now.


Tom Holland and Harrison Osterfield had moved into the building your flat was in nearly a month ago. Initially, you were flabbergasted, and desperate for a sight of them. You adored both boys, even more so after the release of Spiderman: Homecoming… and just seeing them in person would surely put you on cloud nine. Mostly because you had the world’s biggest crush on Tom. You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Three days after they had moved in, you had been cleaning around the window near your fire escape and accidentally knocked one of your many potted plants off of the windowsill. It fell several stories to the pavement below… and almost hit Harrison fucking Osterfield. Both boys had looked up, clearly startled. You squeaked and promptly ducked back inside, face tomato red with mortification. You sunk to the floor and buried your face in your hands, heart pounding wildly. You’d almost killed one of your favourite celebrities! God. How could you be that stupid? Had they seen you? It had felt as though Tom was looking right at you…You shivered at the thought.  

Then and there you vowed to never do something like that again and to never say a word about it, were you ever to bump into them. Unfortunately, the Universe had other plans for you, and that was only the first of many embarrassing incidents involving you and Tom Holland. 


The next… escapade occurred roughly two weeks after the “Deadly Potted Plant Incident”, as your best friend had dubbed it through a fit of giggles the very night of the tragedy. You were returning from the library, a mountain of books stacked in your arms. Most were for research purposes, but a few were pleasure reads, and you were quite excited to look at every single book. The lift hadn’t been working the past few days, so you had to take the stairs. Misfortune, it seemed, was following you everywhere these days. 

With a soft sigh, you started to climb, arms awkwardly positioned to keep a grip on the stack of books. You made it up two flights of stairs before disaster struck. You couldn’t see very well with all the books in the way and thought that there was another step when there actually wasn’t… you lurched and tumbled to the ground, books skidding across the landing every which way. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, pushing up into a standing position, your bum going out, wincing as you straightened your knees. You gently rubbed at your knees, hissing at the pain, still bent over. There’d be some lovely purple bruises tomorrow. Fantastic. Someone had cleared their throat, startling you into making a rather undignified noise and somehow flailing your way into falling again. This time on to the landing. Smack on your ass. And of course- because the Universe hated you- It was Tom fucking Holland

“Hey… are you alright, love?” He asked gently, squatting down in order to be eye-level with you. Your eyes went wide, cheeks warming significantly. God, he was so pretty up close… You opened and closed your mouth a few times, probably looking like a fish… of fucking course now was the time your voice chose to take a lunch break. After a few painful minutes, you were finally able to speak… and that made things even worse. 

“No!” You squealed, scrambling backwards on all fours, “I almost killed Harrison with a potted plant last week and now-” You cut yourself off, gasping. You’d specifically told yourself never to mention that if you met Tom! God, you were such a mess! You quickly gathered your books and somehow sprinted up the stairs. Once you got into your apartment, you threw yourself on the couch, moaning over your embarrassment. Only you could mess up this bad. 


The third incident happened the next week. You just couldn’t catch a break. You had, by this point, lulled yourself into a false sense of security. You hadn’t seen Tom or Harrison since the “Book Bumble Of Utter Humiliation” (okay, so you’d practically run away whenever either of them spotted you) and everything else in your life had been going pretty well. Your favourite professor had asked to keep one of your essays to use it as a future example. 

You had just returned from grocery shopping, headphones in and two bags in your hand. The lift was finally working again, so you walked in. Your favourite song of the moment came on before the doors closed. Things had been getting better… you hadn’t had any more… eventful encounters with your famous sort-of neighbours. You could just… let go and dance to your favourite song, right? You put your bags on the ground, hips already starting to drop and move with the bass. Seconds later, you were full on dancing as though you were in a club. A bright smile bloomed on your face as you spun around slowly, circling your hips, hands in the air. 

You hadn’t noticed that the lift had stopped… but you did see the doors opening over your shoulder mid hip-roll. And there, in all his lazy Sunday afternoon glory, was Tom Holland, mouth hanging open. Oh shit.

To be continued…

New Rules

Title: New Rules

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Can you do something with tom or Peter based on the song new rules by dua lipa? It would be great if you could 😘💖

Word count: 2,582

A/N: I literally listened to this song nonstop while making this and i didnt edit any of it so its all raw writing but i really liked how it turned out. enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, angst, very hostile actions, alcohol 

Tagged (permanent): @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle , @superheros-and-books , @jor-da-na , @ferls212 



You and Peter have been friends since diapers, you were there for him when his parents died and he moved across the hall from you, he was there for you when your mom died from cancer.

You both made a pack that you would always have each other no matter what, but right now in this moment it felt like peter had abandoned you.

You were at Liz’s party, the music loud and Peter trying his best to get Liz’s attention while you were being harassed by drunk teenage boys.

“Come on it won’t hurt I just wanna touch em.” That’s it you thought that’s he line, “Peter please let’s go.” You yelled your plea over the loud music Flash was DJing.

“Y/N come on I’ve only gotten to talk to Liz once.” Peter spoke without making even a glance your way. You finally got the strength and pushed your way out of the small amount of guys trying to not just harass you but sexually harass you and if Peter isn’t going to help then I just have to help myself, as soon as you were out of the small circle you felt a hand slap your butt and with instinct you turned around as slapped the guy who touched you.

The sound of the slap echoing around with the music which finally grabbed the attention of your so called best friend, Peter. His eyes widened at the scene before him. A hand print on some guys face and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

You connected your eyes with his for a split second before turning on your heels to go and find Ned to walk home with.

You had hoped that maybe Peter would run after you, stop you and talk to you about what happened but when you turned around to see if he would follow you saw him get stopped by Liz and not make any other effort to try and get to you.

You huffed and turn back around to continue your search for Ned, you were leaving with or without Peter.

You finally found Ned in the kitchen awkwardly staring at the bowl of chips set out next to the wine coolers, “Hey Ned you okay?” Ned jumps slightly making you let out a small laugh.

“Hey yeah sorry, what’s up? Where’s Peter?” Ned asked his scanning for Peter around you “he’s off with uhh well you should know..” you shrugged “but I really wanna leave and Peter won’t listen to me so do you you could walk me home?” Your pleading eyes catching Ned’s.

“Alright, let’s go.” Ned sighed taking the lead toward the front door of Liz’s house.

You brush past Liz and Peter trying to make yourself unnoticeable, which shouldn’t be hard to do since Peter only ever has eyes for Liz, But a hand catches your arm before your out of the living room.

“Hey Y/N, where are you going?” You rake your eyes up the hand and arm that caught you only to be greeted by the brown orbs you were trying to avoid.

“I’m leaving and Ned is taking me home.” You huff pulling your arm from Peters hand and catch a glimpse of hurt in his eyes before turning and continuing your trek out of the large house.

“There you are.” Ned released a breath as you stepped onto the front porch.

“Yeah sorry, Peter stopped me…” You let out a shaky breath before continuing “Shall we go?” You smile over at Ned. “Sure.” He smiles back stepping off the porch with you right behind him. You slip you hands into the small pockets on your jeans. “Hey Ned, could we just go to yours?” Ned laughs lightly, nodding his head fro your answer.

“Thanks.” you sigh, seeing your breath come out into the air in a small puff cloud.

Ned and you have been walking for about 10 minuets which meant that you were almost to Ned’s place. You only asked to go to his because you knew you would have to call your dad to come pick you up from a party which you weren’t even suppose to be at in the beginning but peter had talked you into it. Now that you were thinking about it Peter did that a lot, convinced you to go out and ‘hangout’ as he put it but you saw through the lie, whenever you two would hang out it would be somewhere with Liz.

You felt your chest start to throb and hurt thinking about how much Peter liked Liz and not you, she hardly ever gives him a sideways glance when I’m always going out of my way just for him, why can’t he see that. You puff seeing your breath come out again. It’s getting colder and you didn’t have a coat.

“Hey Ned do you have a jacket at your house i could wear?” you speak up, “Uh yeah, we’ll be there in like ten minuets.” Ned replied looking over his shoulder slightly at you.

You saw figure appear out of an ally next to the pathway to Ned’s place. A nervous feeling surged through your body telling you not to move further but you didn’t listen, instead you followed Ned across the street, he must’ve gotten the same feeling.

As soon as the two of you passed by the figure and the ally the feeling subsided and the feeling relief replaced it. But that didn’t last long when you felt a hand grab your midsection and another hand slap over your mouth. You tried to scream but it was only muffed by the large hand covering your face. Ned snapped his body back to see what had happened and his eyes widened at the scene.

“Give me all your money kid and she doesn’t get hurt.” The figure spat at Ned which sparked him to search through all his pockets, scavenging what looked to be just a dollar, “Come on kid, you gotta have more than that, what about your wallet.” The man spat again at Ned, his grip tightening around your waist. You felt tears roll down your face and your life flashing before your eyes. What-what if Ned doesn’t have what he wants and he kidnaps me, or .. kills me. Your mind flips to the worst situation that could happened causing more tears to fall and screams to come out of your muffled mouth. “Shut it.” the man hissed in your ear making you crawl in your skin.

“Come on kid hurry u-” the grip around your waist vanishes along with the hand around your face, “Didn’t anyone tell you, stealing lunch money is sooo last season.” You whip your head around to see who saved you and your friend.

You freeze seeing the familiar red and blue suit of the local hero, spider-man. He shoots a web at the guy trapping both his hands on the pavement and one more at the guys mouth silencing his words. “Thank you Mr. Spider-man!” Ned practically shouted with a smile bigger than the sun on his face. How could Ned smile after a situation like that? “It-” the hero coughed, “it’s nothing, are you two alright?” his voice lowered slightly as his head switched looking from Ned to you.

You couldn’t do anything, you’re still frozen, no words able to come out so all you did was nod as the last of your tears fell from you face. “Hey, hey your okay now.” Spider-man began walking toward you with his arms open ready to hug you, and you accepted the hug needing some kind of comfort at the moment and the guy you really wanted here to be with you wasn’t so a superhero was a pretty good substitute.

You were the first to pull away from he hug and wipe your tears off your face with the back of your hand, “would you like me to walk you guys home?” the hero spoke taking a small step back from you.

“I’m good spider-man but Y/N here lives a bit away, do you think you could walk her?” Ned asked from the side of you. Your head snapped over to Ned direction than back to looking at the masked hero in front of you, “You really don’t have to, I can just call my-” you were interrupted by spider-man “Oh not its no big deal, plus you need to stay safe and no where is safer than with a hero.” he said proudly putting his hands on his hips. you felt a small smile creep onto your face and agreed to let him walk you home.

“Good night Ned, please be safe.” You waved to your friend who contained walking to his house. “So where do you live?” your eyes glanced up at the heres mask, specifically where his eyes should be, “uhh right off of park avenue.” You practically whispered tearing your eyes away from his mask and began walking home with spider-man.


As soon as you reached your apartment building you thanked your masked hero and took the stairs to the floor your apartment was on.

You fished your keys out of your pocket and opened the door. “There you are!” your dada practically ran you over as you came in the door, “Where were you young lady.” you smiled, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes because you loved your dad so much and what happened just a little while ago made you realize just how much you needed to show him how much you loved him, “I was with Peter and Ned, we went to grab some food and then a movie.” you spoke walking to your room, yes you loved your dad and you had a life changing experience but you can’t let him know what happened, he would be furious and worry about you non-stop. You didnt want to add to his already full plate.

As soon as you were in your room you changed into your pajamas and slid into your bed, under the covers and tried your best to get to sleep.


“Hey!” the familiar face of Peter’s comes into your view “Hey.” You sigh shutting your locker and make your way to your first class of the day.

“Whoa whoa wait Y/N!” Peter shouted grabbing your arm so you would stop, “What’s wrong?” you could hear the confused sadness in his voice, you didn’t dare turn around because you would fall back into his trap of doing what he wants and him forgetting you even exist because Liz is in the same room. “Nothing, Peter I’ll talk to you later.” You pull your arm away from his grip and continue to your class.


Lunch finally rolls around and you can’t be more happy to just go to the library to relax from the world and eat your food in private while shoving your nose in a book. But as soon as you reach the clear see through doors of the library you see Peter sitting at the table you normally find yourself at.

You catch his eyes and instantly regret ever coming to the library in the first place because he gets up out of his chair and starts toward your direction. You can feel the panic rise in your stomach and instead of being the mature person and talking to Peter, you turn on your heel ad head in the direction back to the lunch room.

“Y/N!” you hear Peter yell as the library doors slam close. your feet begin to pick up speed as you see the lunch room entrance and frantically look for Michelle, you spot her at the corner of the lunch room with a book in one hand and an apple in the other. You head to her table, set your stuff down and practically slam your head on the table.

“Tell me when he’s gone, ok?” you speak just loud enough for Michelle to hear.

“He’s headed over here.” Michelle spoke in her monotone voice while she put her book down on the table, “Whats going on?” you lifted your head from the table to be greeted by Peters worried looking face. “You said you’d talk to me later and its later so what is going on?” you slowly turned your head to look at Michelle for some help but only saw her pack up her things and grab her lunch tray before leaving, “Thanks MJ!” you sarcastically shouted as she walked away with a small wave.

a sigh escaped Peters mouth causing you to put your focus back on the distressed boy, you couldn’t help the guilt that rose in your throat because of how bad you were treating Peter.

“Listen Peter-” you didnt get to finish as peter interrupted you “Is this about last night? I’m sorry i wanted to talk to Liz, it was my chance and i decided to take it.” Peter grabbed your hand, squeezing git slightly “You understand right?” you were disgusted by the smile that graced his face. “No Peter it’s not only about last night but overtime we fucking 'hangout’ we always seem to go where ever Liz and then you forgot that I’m even there god dammit.” you couldn’t help your voice raising a little bit, you were mad, mad that the guy liked was sitting across from you treating you like he didnt even see it. “wha- no i wasn’t-” this time you cut him off, pulling your hand away from his.

“No Peter, I’m not done..” you sucked in a deep breath before continuing “did you know last night was getting harassed by a group of guys? I called you and asked for help but all you could think about was Liz and-and when i finally got the courage to stand up for them and leave asking you to leave with me you didnt, you-you-you got distracted by Liz, fucking Liz so i went to find Ned..” you let out a shaky breath, trying to control your emotions and actions.

“And when Ned and I were walking back to his house we got jumped Peter, we got jumped Peter Parker!” you practically were shouting by now with tears threatening to spill from your eyes “And all i could think in that moment was that I was going to be kidnaped or killed and you weren’t with me…you-you weren’t with me, you were with Liz.”

you tear your eyes away from Peters, everything getting too intense for you. “Ned and I got saved from Spider-man, Peter.” By this point tears were falling from your eyes as you furiously wipe them away. “So Last night i decided..” you pause taking in another breath before continuing “I decided that I can’t do this anymore. I’m in too deep and i don’t , no I can’t bare being hurt by you anymore Peter, so goodbye.”

you stand from the lunch table leaving your tray of food and the broken heart of Peter Parker behind. You look back one last time as you leave the lunch room, seeing Peter already staring at you with tears spilling down his face.

“This is better for both of us, I promise.” You whisper more to yourself than anyone else. You were done with being hurt.

You’re playing by your rules now and rule 1 is Peter Parker is out of your life because if you let him back in you’ll be stuck in an endless loop of pain.

Haunting Me: Chapter 1

A/N; Eeeeek! Here it is guys, chapter 1! This story has me so pumped and i’m so happy you guys liked the intro. I hope you guys like this chappie, cuz it’s a bit of a giant relief haha. ENJOY! - Delilah ❤️

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader

Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?

Warnings: Swearing. Slight angst. Mild violence. Hella feels. 





2012

You focused on the pencil in your hand, shading the paper as carefully as possible.

New York was beautiful in the summer time, especially once the sun hit the right spot in the sky. It wasn’t a cloudy day by any chance; in fact, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. You sat in the metal chair, your legs crossed beneath you as you focused on the sketch in front of you. You reached for the pastry on the plate next to it and took a small bite out of it, chewing slowly.

You enjoyed your time alone, as you always did, especially when you got to sketch the totally gorgeous Calvin Klein model sitting two seats down from you.

Okay, he probably wasn’t a model, but he sure as hell looked like one.  He was built like a brick house and those eyes. Jesus –you could get lost in those ocean blue orbs of his. From what it looked like, he was drawing as well. He could draw and look super-hot while doing it? He was a rare gem. However, as you cocked your head to the side, curiously studying his features, you couldn’t help but notice how sad he looked. It made your chest ache just seeing him brood like that.

“Another brownie ma’am?” the waitress asked with a smile. And by the grace of god, the total hottie looked over at you. You blushed, looking up at the waitress with a timid smile.

“Um. No thank you.” She gave you a quick nod before walking away.

When you looked back over at the mysterious blond, you expected him to give you a small smile and continue throughout his day, but boy were you wrong. You looked back over and to your surprise, he was openly staring at you, his blue eyes widened with an odd mixture of fear and shock. He blinked rapidly, his eyes focusing on your face shamelessly.

Immediately you felt so self-conscious. Was there something on your face? Did you creep him out?  Oh god, did your eyeliner smudge. You had a habit of rubbing your face whilst drawing and you did forget you were wearing makeup sometimes.

After a few minutes of being stared down by the man, you had quite enough. You hastily packed your sketch book into your bag and placed a few dollar bills onto the table before standing. You swore you could feel the burning of eyes on your back as you stealthy maneuvered around the sea of people.

Before you could take another step, you felt a tight grip on your arm stop you.

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed, turning around with a scowl. You reached in your pocket for your pepper spray.

“I-I’m sorry!” The man sputtered, his eyes softened once he peered around at the many people watching the two of you. There was a small crowd surrounding you now and you felt so embarrassed, yet relieved. He wouldn’t dare try anything in public.  

You yanked your arm back, holding it in your wrist. “Why are you following me? Do I know you or something?” your last question caused him to frown. You could practically see the wheels turning in the man’s head as he chose his words carefully. He sighed heavily, before his eyes travelled down to the bag in your hand.  

“I uh…noticed you drawing earlier and I wanted to say how nice your shading technique was. That’s all.”

You blinked, your eyes widening. He did all that for a damn compliment? Who was this guy?

“Thank you,” you replied, which came out more as a question. Soon, the people around you began going about their day once they realized there was no harm being done to you. Leaving the two of you standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk.

“My name is Steve,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you. “Steve Rogers.” You raised your eyebrows. That was a bit of an older fashioned name, but you weren’t complaining. Your mom tried to name you Jane once before your birth.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, gently taking his hand and shaking it.  

“Y/N Y/L/N.”


As the next couple years went by, you and Steve became two peas in a pod.  

Wherever you went, he went. At first, you found it sort of creepy that your best friend was following you around town all the time, showing up at your apartment in the middle of the night when the Stark tower got too much for him and he needed a place to sleep properly. After a while, you just assumed the man was a bit lonely, which was fine by you considering you were, too.

There were times where you two would just stay up all night watching old movies from his time. His favorite was My Darling Clementine, which you had seen so many times that you now knew the entire film’s script by memory. 

Soon, Steve began accompanying you on your trips to art galleries for school. It was a win/win for you as he always attracted so much attention being the hot shot Captain America he was, also, he eased the storm of anxiety that you struggled with your entire life. Steve was your wing man.  

But there were some times when you felt that maybe Steve wanted to be more than friends. 

You always thought of him as a brother figure, but the way he would look at you whenever he thought you weren’t noticing, it had you a bit confused. It happened when you were watching the old movies. He would look at you from out the corner of his eye, watching your reactions closely. You figured it was because he had a thing for you, which you didn’t return. 

You had a couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing special. And Steve, bless his heart, had completely unapproved of them all. 

But whenever you would sing along to your favorite song, Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland, you would see the look even more. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about that song probably caused unpleasant memories for him. You wondered why. 

Another time you got The Look, was when you smoked. It was a habit, yeah, one that you’ve had for far too long. Every time you would be out and about with him -which was always- and you lit up a cigarette, he would immediately scold you until you put it out. You loved Stevie, but you were a big girl. You could make your own decisions. 


You were lounging on your couch, watching old reruns of Seinfeld, when a loud banging on your front door causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You looked over at your phone. 

Five O’clock. 

Steve was currently on a mission, or so you thought. Who on earth could it be? 

You sighed, standing up from the couch and made your way towards the front door. You flung the door open, expecting to see Steve standing there with a box of pizza like always, but instead you got something way, way more complicated. 

“W-What is going on?” you asked, eyeing the two other Avengers beside your best friend. 

Steve let out a sigh, giving you a guilty smile. “These are my uh…coworkers.” 

You blinked, staring at him with wide eyes. Coworkers? Really?

“May we come inside?” Natasha asked as she clutched her shoulder tightly. Her face was twisted into a grimace as she tried to cover the obvious gunshot wound in her shoulder. Your eyes widened. 

“Of course!” you jumped, reaching forward and gently placing your hand on her back, and guiding her into your apartment. She let out a groan when you touched her shoulder. 

“I think I’m gonna need a new shoulder.” she said. 


You placed the cotton swab on Natasha’s shoulder, gently dabbing the fresh stitches you had applied. She was lucky to be alive, the bullet barely missed a major artery. A couple more centimeters and she would’ve bled out in seconds. 

“So are you guys gonna tell me what the hell happened?” you asked, turning around in your chair to face Steve, who was seated on your couch, his body bruised and battered from the obvious fight. 

Whoever they ran into managed to put up on hell of a fight. 

“His name is The Winter Soldier,” Natasha chimed from behind you. She avoided your eyes as she spoke “He’s Hydra’s top assassin. He’s killed over a dozen elected officials and other people as well. We ran into him earlier.” 

Steve continued to stare down at the floor, his face in a distant frown. 

“What does that have to do with Steve? What happened?” you asked eagerly. 

“We just found out that this so called Winter Soldier is actually Steve’s best friend, Bucky Barnes.” 

Your eyes widened. You were so confused. Steve never mentioned anyone else in his life except for his mother and father. He always told you he was on the lonely side, but…he had a best friend apparently. An old best friend from over seventy years ago. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” you chided, furrowing your brows at Steve. How could he have not told you? You and he told each other everything. 

“Bucky Barnes was considered KIA in 1942 when he fell off a locomotive during a mission to capture the evil scientist Arnim Zola.” Sam informed as he reloaded his pistol. 

“And now, he’s alive. And brainwashed, completely wiped of his memories of Steve.” Natasha finished, taking a sip of the glass of orange juice you poured her a few minutes ago. 

You felt your chest ache. 

Why couldn’t Steve feel like he could tell you about Barnes? You guys were so much closer than the average friends. 

You turned back to Steve, only to find him on the couch with his face buried in his hands. His breaths coming out in short huffs. 

You made your way over to the blond, bending down until you were eye level with him. He looked so broken, yet you had no idea what he was going through. You’ve never lost anyone before. You had no idea who this Winter Soldier was, but if it meant reconnecting two old friends, you were more than wiling to help Steve. 

You gently pulled Steve’s hands from his hair and brought them down, revealing his tear stained face. You smiled up at him, hope shining in your eyes. 

“Whoever this Bucky guy is,” you began, looking down at your entwined hands. “He must be a special kind of man for you to go these lengths. We’ll get your friend back, Steve. If it’s the last thing we do.” 

Steve felt his heart shattering even more as you spoke. Nevertheless, he offered you a false smile, hoping to distract you from the internal pain he was facing. To his relief, you bought it. 

He watched as you went back to Natasha and began placing the bandages onto her wound, your face set in a concerned frown. 

‘Oh, Y/N’ he thought to himself. 

‘If you only knew the truth.’ 


- Fin!  ❤️

Tag list of super awesome people! 

@sebbylover24 @softwintersoldier @amrita31199 @jezzula @jenna-luke @harrisbn @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @ballerinafairyprincess @gingerbatchwife @callmeoncette @bellaballanda @sebbyismyking @abigailredgrave @chou-maitresse @twinklingstarlight @abovethesmokestacks @dracu-ma-bucky @persephone-is-here-omg @i-write-tragedies-and-sins @melconnor2007 @nenyakj @watergirl1996 @marveloussssworld @ihavetwobuckystomyname @megandrawsspace @wintersoldieressiam @fridabarnes @abovethesmokestacks @mizzzpink @diana-daydreamer @meganlane84 @adrianabribiescacortes @r3stl3ss-minds @queen–valeskaxx @winterboobaer @addictivewriter @tatortot2701 @supersoldier-buckybarnes @the-winter-avengerrrrr @the-witching-hours12-3 @netflixa @kaitskennedyy @witheringblooddemon  @lostinspace33 @nottheopera @beebossinner @ktrivia @4theluvofall @the-lazy-leprechaun @behindthesehazeleyes27 @38leticia @davinaciaire @cry-me-a-fkin-river @buckyshattergirl @raeintheusa @helloitsgrc @icedragoncred1763 @sebbeanstan @shieldagentofthemonth @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @sheriwallace123 @permanent-lines @hellstempermentalangel @answer-the-sirens @badassbaker @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @therealgoldenbookworm @buckyappreciationsociety @dream-equine @munsurieya @feelmyroarrrr @learisa @stephie-senpai @vindictivegrace @valynsia @saffreelove @say-my-name-assbut @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @alucialunn12 @bad-wolf87 @such-a-common-girl @yknott81 @frolicsomefawkes @svetlanaabril @hellahornyvirgin @mirkwood—princess @amour-quinn @tirednwired05 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @harleycativy @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @deathordesire

Ok so I kind of lost my tag list thingy so if I didn’t tag you on the list pls let me know or if i tagged you on the wrong fic, pls also let me know!

Tags are open for this series!

Intro

Skies of Water; Ocean of Air

Here’s a little (long) fanfic/wingfic I wrote. Today… I have way too much time on my hands honestly. I swear to god. Either way! Enjoy the minor Shklance! Enjoy the Langst! And mostly! Please enjoy my shitty writing abilities!

Lance knew from a young age that he was different. Even with no one to guide him or explain it to him he knew. Maybe it was extinct. Maybe it was in the way people skirted around him. Or in the way he saw things as a child. He had always been a little different in a way. And not just the physical signs, but in himself as a person as well. The way he saw the world was a lot bigger than how his siblings saw it. He saw more than just the skies and a land to look down upon. He saw the oceans they couldn’t swim in, full of gorgeous fish and beautiful vibrant colors no paint could ever match, the mountains they didn’t bother to climb, seeing the view from a bright side, with the rust colored dust of the earth staining his clawed hands, saw the skitter of wildlife in a forest too thick with trees to move around in, the sight they ignored because they couldn’t grasp a place where the sky was not seen and the wind was silent for the sounds of nature singing. Lance saw the world with a different view.

Not everyone liked that view.

The way their words would sting him, lash out at him like a poisoned whip reminded him of that without them having to out rightly state it. Leaving marks much farther than skin deep on his young mind. Their backs, always turned away from him, shunning him away from where he wanted to be in their family. The way their wings would always taunt him. Show him the life he couldn’t have. The beauty he’d never have. The love he’d never feel. Not even the woman who breathed life into him could love the way he saw the world. The only love he could feel was in the hidden alcoves of the ocean. Small shelters carved through the years by the sea itself.

In a way, Lance connected with the ocean. The ocean was so old, wise, and strong, different from the free, young sky. So liberal and wild in youth. Innocent in its fast winds. Lance was young, weak, but no long naive nor innocent like the sky. He was jaded like the ocean in his eyes and on the horizon. Balancing between two worlds. One which was his own by blood, and another which was his own by outcast and adopted love. The sky rejected him. But the ocean called to him. Blue waves with cutting forces were terrifying, like their voices, like their fists raised in disgusted fury. But the teal lapping waters were also a calm reassurance, isolated. And when Lance’s head would submerge. He would not be afraid. He didn’t have to be afraid of the water over his head. There were no feathers to get wet and weigh him down like dead weights He could open his eyes, and see the fish flying through the new world. The land was just an ocean of air after all. If Lance didn’t have wings to fly, then he could have a sky of water to swim.

The ocean was calling his name. A name they never gave him. A name that was his own.

Lance…

Not a single person could take that away from him.

That made him strong. Many thought wingless would always be weak, they couldn’t fight, couldn’t gain strength with wings they were not gifted with. Couldn’t compete. Couldn’t survive in the world without feathers and blood on their back. But the ocean made him strong. The currents would spar against him, like head strong winds for his arms and legs. Flying underwater. The rocks in the ocean would test him. Sharping the claws of his hands. Teaching him to climb higher and reach for the sky in ways that those he knew would not think of. Would look at with disgust.

Just because he didn’t have wings didn’t mean he didn’t know the world. Lance probably knew more of it than anyone with wings. He felt the sting of wind in his face, the heights of a large mountain he’d conquered through reaching claws and hard effort. But he’d also felt the sting of ocean water on his face. Warm lapping salt water, reaching for him. Like it was calling him to come home to it. Once and for all.

The sky was their home. The shores and the ocean was his home.

Now, however, he was far away from his home.

He wanted to go home.

Lance sighed, looking at the soft pliant skin on his hands from the rafters of the castle. The way their shifted from soft skin, to hard claws without Lance even blinking. It had hurt the first time. But, now it was instinct. All good things had to hurt, right? Bad things hurt too he guessed however.

Long cold nights away from a happy nest. Watching them fly together with bright smiles, as if they were urging him to join them in the happy games. But he could not join them. He never told them. And they never asked anything different. It was assumed.

Lance was assumed to have wings like them.

Assumed to just be shy with his wings.

Assumed to be a loner.

Rather than asked.

It was alright thought, they weren’t far off from assuming that he preferred to be alone. Honestly, he did prefer the quiet nights. But these weren’t quiet nights. Nights in a place with no pool, no water, no sand. These were just lonely nights. Nights away from the one place he could forever call home.

He missed the rock walls, rough against his skin. The way it would vibrate on stormy nights when his family would and lock him out of the house. Protect him from the rampaging clouds and crashing thunder. The way the water would splash up against his ankles. Cold in the storms, but cold in the best ways. The sea foam tickling his tan skin. He missed the slight burn and tingle of salt water on his skin. The way the water would look when the storm would break, the silver moon light and peace the cold waves would bring to him. The ocean was old, yet full of vigor. It could’ve kill Lance without thought when he was smaller, yet it didn’t. The moons pull on the waves of the ocean, sparing his wide eyes full of wonder, and showing him a new world, a home. Letting Lance see the way the sun would rise over the ocean. Glimmering red, yellow, and orange on the waves of a warming blue sea. Glittering and beautiful in a way that no one ever stopped to appreciate. The sea let Lance appreciate its beauty, let him watch night after day and after another night. Let him live to breathe the salt in the sky of dark blue tides. The smell of salt on the breeze. No one liked the ocean. Like no one liked the real Lance.

He missed the ocean.

He still heard it’s call.

Beckoning him home.

A presence to his side jolted Lance out of his thoughts, turning his long and sharp salt stained claws back into smooth flawless skin and fingers as Lance twisted his body. Greeting the new person with a wide smile. The leader of their impromptu flock, Shiro.

Honestly speaking Shiro really was a sight to behold, and even with the hopelessness that accompanied seeing such majestic wings, Lance’s smile was real. Because with Lance’s view of the world. Even in pain and in hiding. He still saw the big world and everything in it as beautiful. Including Shiro with his broad body and even sturdier wings. Darker than the night sky with flecks of white. No midnight blues however. The ocean wasn’t in anyone’s wings. Just his own eyes. Shiro’s eyes were battle hardened, but still kind. And his smile was gentle. Like the nudging of the schools of fish that would nibble at his skin, brush their scales against his fingertips as they dared to get closer to the familiar being. Shiro smiled just like that this time.

“Hey Lance, we missed you preening yesterday, and flying today. Are you feeling alright?” Lance smiled. Assumptions. As-sump-tions. Such a simple word. With so much meaning. So much ability to alter and change a person’s view. Lance never assumed anything. Then again, he also assumed everything. He had a different view of the word.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just relaxing.” Shiro’s wings fluttered, an obvious show of unsettlement or awkwardness. As if Shiro was trying to build up courage to ask the withdrawn flock member something. Lance watched. Even without wings Lance could read the emotions displayed on others. He had to learn how to read people to avoid their worse moods normally. Wings were how people told emotions from other people, being the most obvious sign of body language. Lance could read moods well. Seeing his sister shift from calm, to annoy at just the mere sound of his breath. His father turn from pride to rage at a single speck of his existence. Being the outlet of anger was normal for him. Taught him many things in life, but sometimes even Lance knew that he had to escape and wait. Sometimes Lance would disappear to the ocean for weeks at a time. Only coming home so that he wouldn’t be deemed a ‘flight risk’. Heh. A flightless flight risk. Wasn’t there a joke in that somewhere?

           Maybe that’s why people were so wary and awkward with him before they knew. Most people kept their wings out to show emotion. Most people couldn’t tell emotion without seeing someone’s wings. Lance was probably a husk to them. Emotionless. Like the porcelain mask of a doll. Not showing off your wings meant discomfort, distrust in your surroundings. Lance was probably just one giant enigma to them. A hard shell that didn’t look one second closer to opening up then when they had begun to form a flock in space so long ago.

           At least Lance could make them assume he had wings. Using his claws and climbing skills to reach high places. Climbing wasn’t a well-known or practiced skill after all. Lance hadn’t even known it had a name until he found an old history book from before humans had formed wings. When Lance could’ve been considered normal. So even if they didn’t see his wings, they’d see him lazily resting in the rafters and assume he’d gone up there to stare at the stars and enjoy the silence as he often did. The clearing of Shiro’s thought gathered Lance’s wondering thoughts again. Making Lance look at him with those wide eyes that had Shiro lost.

           To Shiro they were like the deepest galaxy imaginable. Dark blues and light blues, white and black. Swirling. With ferocity and gentleness. Like the ocean Lance always described. Lance’s eyes were like both their homes. Shiro’s home in Lance was the night sky. Lance’s, the reflection of the only home he ever loved.

           “Lance, why don’t you come fly with me? We could go to my nest if you’d like? You probably could use a good preening, I could help if you’d like? Straighten out your feathers while we watch some old movies?” Lance gave Shiro another ambiguous smile. Confusing Shiro greatly as Lance declined gently.

           It was difficult. Leading a flock. But what was harder was knowing that one of the people in his flock that he cared about so much was still distrusting of him. Still hiding the wings Shiro knew would be gorgeous. Still hiding the thing that would tell Shiro exactly what those distant eyes and smiles that tugged at his chest meant.

           Shiro would often find himself wondering what Lance’s wings could be like. Would they be brown like Hunk’s? Dark and powerful? Or would they be so black they were almost blue? Like the starry sky that Shiro saw in his eyes with every passing glance. Were they built for power or speed? Or were they built for neither? Were they an ivory color to give a beautiful contrast to his caramel colored skin? How would they react? Would they express the emotions that Lance never spoke? Childishly expressive. Or were they like Lance’s body, slim, lean, and closed off. Revealing nothing more than what he was willingly to show.

           Shiro didn’t know. And it was killing him slowly.

           Shiro didn’t know how Lance felt and it hurt him. Him and Keith. Him and the flock.

           Lance would always smile, ruffle Pidge’s hair. Give Hunk big hugs and large grins to reassure him. But he’d never show them his wings. His most telling part of himself. Nor would he touch theirs. He would glance at them. Shiro and everyone else could see the glances, the lingering gazes on their wings. They knew that Lance was gifted with people, and very wary of them. He could read their every mood like a book. But no one could tell what was in his eyes. Not even the Alteans could. Not even Coran, who was very obvious in his favoritism towards the blue paladin, could tell what was hidden in those royal blues eyes.

           Hunk had never even noticed until they had pointed it out to him. Shiro asking what Lance’s wings were like. Hunk had been his roommate after all. Sharing a living space for so long and being such close friends. But Hunk hadn’t known a thing. Hunk said that the Garrison hadn’t been very active with their flight training besides piloting, as many were obsessed with flying in their free time. Hunk had just assumed Lance was just one of those people who liked to relax without his wings out. There were few people who didn’t like to stretch out their wings at every chance. Feeling shy of how their wings reacted or moved. And just kept them to themselves. And Shiro accepted that excuse for a while.

           But then the months had dragged on. Bonding sessions. And mind melding. The link between paladins were everything was supposed to be visible, the moment Shiro tried to pry into the Blue paladin’s mind, it changed from pure clarity, to a haze. Only now and again he’d see flashes of the water and sand. Wet skin. And it always scared and fascinated him when he saw the rare sight of the water below its surface. Bright almost teal colors water, beige sand like silk on ‘his’ feet. The schools of fish swimming in front of him. Around him. Sometimes tickling his skin. It scared him because as beautiful as the ocean and water was. It was so quick to kill those of the sky. Leaving that place in Lance’s mind always made him wander if want he was seeing was a memory or a fantasy. Whether the fantasy was the beauty of an ocean he couldn’t touch living apparently on a beach in Cuba with his family. Or if it was a fantasy of wanting to drown in those beautiful waves. The linger taste of salt and the feeling of being washed away onto the shore of reality after these mind drifts left the bad taste of doubt in his mouth. It scared the others too when Shiro convinced them to visit the strange world. The scariest of all their reactions being Allura’s, who was tuned to the emotions of mind melding and said with certainty, that what Lance felt in those moments was a longing. A call for home in the water.

           It terrified Shiro.

           But also confused him when he considered the other’s minds. The clarity of the skies in their minds. From city skylines and buildings, to the red of the desert sunsets, and the night sky of his own mind. Smiling faces of family. And Lance’s was a foggy foundation of cold grasping tides at his ankles. Seemingly lying in wait to grab and snuff out the gorgeous light that Shiro called Lance.

           Shiro just wanted to know Lance. Get to know his moods, the way his eyes would glide over everyone. As if gauging damage, how to help them, how to smile at them and make them feel better. How to fix the castle. How to make Hunk’s anxiety lessen or how to drag Pidge away from her computer gremlin ways. The way Lance almost glided through the air, on his feet not his wings. Shiro could only imagine how graceful Lance would be in his own sky. The sky that they could never find inside his mind.

           There was only one time, when Shiro had felt like they had maybe taken a step closer to Lance as a team. Pulled the Hispanic teenager a little closer to their hearts and to their home. It was when Allura had insisted they learned a thing called climbing. A way to scale into the air, without wings. Allura had said it was for an emergency if their wings were injured, but Shiro had always wondered if it was a way of training that they could finally include Lance in.

           Though, for Lance it was barely training as it was total slaughter. It turned out that Lance was extremely good at climbing. Almost vibrating in visible excitement at the task as soon as Allura described it to everyone’s surprise. Finding nicks and crannies to dig his fingers into to lift him higher. While Keith had climbed the valiant height of ten feet, the highest of all the first four paladins so far. Lance had taken one glance at the wall. And scaled it in mere seconds. A flash of brown hair and then he was there. Sitting at the top. Head tilted up and his body straight, looking completely at peace, unobtainable. A boy in the rafters. A boy too high to reach. Too far away to even touch.

           It was then that Shiro had learned about Lance, and both him and his mate Keith’s budding interest in the mysterious goofy brunette. As Lance sat there at the top. Beating Shiro and Keith in every race they challenged him to on the rock wall. The other flock members giving up after a while of reaching for the inaccessible boy’s hand. Failing to grab the lifeline that tried to grab onto them and teach them by even the full length of their wingspan. Not a feather could touch.

           Lance had been sitting there at the edge. His legs dangling down, the ships lights were soft in the evening glow. Reflecting off Lance’s skin and giving him an almost shuddering and unearthly radiance. Shiro saw the boy in a new light, not the distrustful boy that was closed off. But the strong boy beneath it all. With broad shoulders and strong arms that pulled him closer toward whatever height he reached for. The curve and curl of his muscles and spine. Flexible. Durable. Stunning. It was then that Lance had spoken to them for the first time about himself. Not a joke. Not playful flirting.

           The faraway look in his eyes seemed softer, closer, almost vulnerable, it was the closest Shiro had felt to connecting with Lance’s emotions and knowing them without the crutch of wings. Lance’s full and pink lips recounting times of when he’d apparently climbed the rock structures around the beach of his home. Climbing them for fun and for a peaceful moment. Even Keith, the worst at reading people could hear the longing in Lance’s voice as he talked about the view. Seeing the sky and the ocean almost blending together on the horizon. With the wind in his hair and dust on his hands. He said the view was almost better when you had to work to get it. Keith, who’d be reluctant about the idea of climbing and weirded out by it, suddenly got exactly why Lance seemed to love it.

           Insecurities. Lance was the one with a home back on earth. Lance was the one that was in between, not new enough to shooting and training to make large progress, and not good enough to be seen at the highest levels like Shiro and Keith. He was the blurry and unrecognizable middle.

           Hazy.

           Like fog rolling over the ocean in the early morning when the sky was warming and the water was still cold.

           Climbing was something Lance was secure in. Familiar with. It was something that Lance could connect to his home with. Watching Lance close his eyes, almost looking like he was relishing the texture of rough and cool rock beneath his hands. Lance had admitted the other thing missing was the dust and taste of salt in the air.

           Salt.

           Like the taste of his deadly fantasy.

           Lance watched as Shiro pulled away slowly and reluctantly from his own thoughts. Spreading those raven black wings and flying away from the tan boy. The boy with the stars in his eyes and Shiro’s heart in his mercy. They had to get going to the planet’s surface soon, and Shiro knew that Lance wasn’t going to fly down to go to the team in view of his eyes. So he glided away, only glancing back once he was on the ground at the end of the hall. Seeing Lance still sitting there. A far away look and one leg dangling teasingly from the edge. So close. Yet so far.

           Unattainable.

           After a half an hour of rounding up rowdy flock members Shiro was able to explain the details of the planet and the mission they had to carry out. Shiro was both excited for the mission and anxious. It was actually a secret vacation day for the flock, to fly and relax on a planet was oxygen. But, there was one thing.

           It was an ocean planet.

           Beaches as far as they eye could see.

           With rowdy kids that couldn’t swim, and one that seemed to dream of going under the waves.

           Yeah, Shiro was a nervous wreck to say the least. But after seeing Lance’s excitement at hearing the words beach and sand. Shiro relaxed. Watching closely as Lance used wild hand gestures to describe how many things they could do on the beach. He even promised to show Pidge how to skip a rock past two skips. Demonstrating flicking wrist motions with vigor and a large grin on his face. And after about three hours on the beach, Shiro was fully confident and relaxed that everything would be fine.

           Except, that was exactly when shit hit the fan.

           Lance was sitting high up on one of the rocky cliffs, admiring the view and keeping an eye on Pidge and Hunk, who were both splashing and carefully flying over the ebb and flows of the planet’s deep blue marine. Of course, that mean he was the first one to see and react to Pidge losing control and falling into the water. Unable to fly away in time to stop herself from being grabbed and dragged under.

           It was like he was on autopilot and Hunk screamed Pidge’s name and Lance dove into the water. Ignoring Hunk’s scream of protest. The fear of losing two teammates, two best friends at once. But Lance wasn’t going to listen this time. Not when he could help Pidge. The girl he’d come to see as a little sister. A younger sibling.

           Someone he had to protect.

           The water was different here, but in many ways. It was exactly the same. The push and pull of the tide. Tugging his body in every which way. Yet still guiding him. Towards the sinking girl just barely in his reach. Her eyes were closed and she was limb, but Lance wasn’t afraid yet. The waves were helping him, giving him that final pull down to grab her, before the push came, dragging Lance and his friend towards the shore and the surface. Lance mourned the sight. He wanted to relish in the sight, the sounds, the feeling of being weightless. But this ocean was not his home. This ocean was trying to push him away, telling him this wasn’t home. But an outreach of it.

           Voices. The voice calling him home was never so urgent and loud in his mind than in that moment. But it wasn’t calling him into the depths. It was calling him out of these depths. Urging him to go towards the ocean of air. To give his friend the oxygen she needed. Life Lance craved for her to keep. Lance’s muscles didn’t strain in the water. Even with the added weight of his sodden friend. He broke the surface easily. Relieved as he shoved Pidge’s head above the water and heard her gasp and cough. It was wet sounding and sent shivers down his spine when he heard how close he’d been to failing her. But it was also a freeing sound. A sound that she was alive, as he held her close with one arm and used the other claw his way up the shore where the flock was gathered. Wing fluttering worriedly with various degrees of fear and relief on their faces. Lance’s claws elongated to dig into the solid earth beneath the loose sand to hoist Pidge up and shove her onto the dry said into their waiting arms as Lance’s head dropped. His arms spread in front of him in almost a push up position as he greedily gulped in air to replenish the energy he lost in carrying Pidge to shore. He didn’t notice them staring at the long black marble looking claws until it was too late. He was already in a sunk ship as they stared. Watching in horrific awe as Lance detached from the earth. Claws slipping easily through the sand with the lost tension and fluidly retracting and forming back into long fingers with soft tan skin as Lance sat up. His long limbs folding into his lap with one movement. Hands tucked into his sides protectively.

           He’d gotten them broken for his adaptation before. Hard rubber work boots, stomping and cruelly twisting into the flesh of his hands. Breaking bones and skin. He couldn’t even hold a skipping stone right for months after that. The pain being renewed and rebroken every time anyone in his family saw an inkling of tiny black kitten claws piercing his skin.

           What would they think over him now? Long, sharp, dangerous and war tore claws?

           Did he look like a monster now?

           Lance looked up nervously to them, still sitting on his knees as they stared. Until Coran kneeled in front of him. Holding out his hand for Lance to presumably place his own hand within as Coran smiled reassuringly.

           “Thank you for helping Pidge, can I see that your hands aren’t torn up from the currents?” Lance frowned for a fraction of a second. Body curling instinctively to protect his hands. But Coran didn’t back down. He cared for Lance. Very much. Lance reminded him of his own son, but also not. Lance was witty and funny, but even Coran could see that something was not clicking with the paladin. There was always something just a little, off. The way Lance would move, the way he’d act. Keeping everything he didn’t initiate at arm’s length. Avoiding bonding sessions or showing everyone his mind and his body. Coran felt the need to shield Lance from the harsh reality of the world that Lance had already suffered. And with this new development surfacing, Coran was not going to back down on his small bit of progress. It wasn’t the lad’s wings, but it obviously was a sensitive piece of him. A private and more personal side of him. The instincts and tools of a predator. But also not dangerous at all, as Pidge had been held by these same weapons, and had not been scratched in the slightest. Eventually Lance caved in, hand shaking as he gave Coran one of his hands. His arm trembling fiercely as he did so, the stares of the others and Coran’s touch seeming to make his anxiety worse as his arm tried to tug itself away as Coran was able to get a small grip. But Coran didn’t let him. Studying the smooth skin, and watching as it formed into the claws they’d just seen. They were blackish grey, like the rocks on the sand. With white scratches on their hard surface. Probably from the rocks. Coran gently traced the scratches. Lance didn’t flinch, rather, he stared at Coran curiously, relaxing as no threatening move was made against his hands. Even handing Coran his other hand with no resistance. Letting it shift immediately as soon as Coran’s skin touched his hand.

           Lance had never looked so calm then in that moment. Even Pidge who’d begun to breathe properly ventured closer, not even the least bit afraid as she practically sat on Lance and grabbed his hands. Studying them for herself. Pressing her fingers against the sharp edges with the pads of her fingers. Marveling that even when they looked like they could slice her skin easily they didn’t even leave a mark. Lance answered the silent question.

           “They’re for digging into rock. They won’t hurt you unless you apply force to it.” Pidge slid her finger against the claw, her skin curved around the smooth yet hard nails. But didn’t get cut.

           “When did you get these?” Lance shrugged.

           “I’ve had them for as long as I can remember. They make climbing and swimming easier.” Shiro injected himself into the conversation.

           “You can swim? How do you not drown?” Images of the ocean bubble back to the front of Shiro’s mind. Not a fantasy. A memory. Lance can swim. That’s amazing. It’s practically unheard of. Lance looked down sheepishly.

           “I just do I guess. I lived on the beach my whole life. I knew how to swim before I knew how to climb or say my alphabet honestly.” Shiro’s eyes were locked on Lance’s wet form, his brown hair was curling with the water in it and sticking to his face. Lance looked up at him and their eyes met. Shiro hadn’t seen a look like that on Lance ever. He looked so at home, kneeling in the sand and the water. Pidge hanging onto him like a lifeline as he held her up on his lap, hesitantly letting Pidge wrap her wings around him. He looked a little uncomfortable, but not about to deny the girl who still probably shaken up for her near-death experience. They all filed back into the castle shortly after that. Allura smiling as she immediately demanded they learn to swim from Lance. Everyone smiling at the joy apparent on Lance’s face when he saw the salt water pool. It was no beach, but it was something at least. And Shiro was happy to say that he seemed to be getting better at reading Lance. Not quite good. But no longer completely clueless. Just. In the middle.

           Though Shiro had to admit, it was nice to see Lance so happy and in his element, the swim shirts and shorts they had to wear were suffocation. The males in the group even stripped off the swimming shirt, just deciding to preen out the water after every lesson. Though, Lance seemed happy enough to wear the suffocating material. Shiro guessed it was how he grew up. Parent’s doting over his wings, placing a shirt on him to make sure the currents and salt didn’t rip away or ruin his feathers.

           Shiro wondered why he’d never heard of people swimming if that’s what Lance had grown up with on the coast. He’d visited the east coast after all. The closet he’d seen to swimming was boating. And that was a completely waterless sport if you were talking about getting yourself soaked in water and not machinery meant to withstand it.

           Lance was proving himself to be a man of many very odd talents and surprises. And it wasn’t a surprise to Shiro that it only intrigued him and made both him and Keith want the Cuban boy more than before. Longing to hold onto that tan skin, feel it underneath their hands, their lips. Feel soft hair and soft feathers. Even Lance’s odd shifting claws were perfect. Scratched up with ‘scars’, but so beautiful in their own way. Having a destructive power, yet grace to not breach skin and blood unless intentioned that way.

           Either way, Lance was happy with the outcome of the days. Shiro and Keith were ecstatic too as Lance began to grow closer. Hiding away less. Letting himself occasionally be held by them, letting them wrap their wings around him like a tight cocoon. Lance finally joining the cuddle sessions. Even without showing his own wings. It was progress. Progress like reading Lance’s moods. It made the two so happy. Lance was happy too.

           His truth was safe. Hidden.

           Until later on, it wasn’t.

           Shiro also wondered why he didn’t see it coming when the truth did come out.

           Lance flopped to the ground, back smacking on the metal loudly. Making Keith wince and panic. Back shots were forbidden in training as they often caused wing injuries. Hell, no one could ever sleep or rest on their backs without being uncomfortable. Keith was immediately kneeling on the ground, pulling Lance up and reaching for his back to check before Lance jerked away from him. Keith immediately backing down even when Shiro’s and probably Keith’s instincts too, were screaming at him to put his hand on Lance’s back and check the health of his wings. But Shiro hesitated. Lance hadn’t even shown them a feather. Touching them was probably a very off limits thing to do. Lance proved that right as he ducked into his room, promising Coran to check his wings, before coming out ten minutes later, smiling and saying it was just a little sore. Though they wanted to look and check for themselves, Coran simply told Lance to take it easy for the rest of the day. Lance had smiled at them and nodded. Going with what they said easily.

           If only Shiro had insisted on seeing Lance’s wings that day. Maybe he wouldn’t have been this way. Maybe Shiro wouldn’t have sent him on this mission. Either way, even possible different solution or way didn’t end with Shiro pacing in front of a healing pod that contained Lance after a mission gone wrong. Lance needing it after trapped in a crevice deep in the planet’s earth. The crevice was large enough for Pidge to fly in, but not Hunk or Shiro. But Lance wasn’t flying out. Keith and Pidge had to go down to get him. Finding Lance bloody and unconscious on the ground, but thankfully still breathing.

           Though nothing was more shocking then when Keith finally said fuck it to Lance’s privacy after dragging the injured boy out of the earth and lifted his shirt to make sure there was no damage. And there were some bruises, some gashes, not surprising to see after such a fall. The real surprise, is what they didn’t see.

           Wings.

           Lance’s back was muscular, but smooth, there was no protruding muscles or slit where his wings could tuck themselves in for protection. There was nothing to indicate Lance was even supposed to have wings on his back. It was bare. But oh god were there scars.

           Lash marks lined Lance’s back like tally marks on an elementary school chalk bored. Long slashes of thick scar tissue on Lance’s back that went in every direction. Shiro knew exactly what caused marks like that. Belts. Whips. He’d felt their sting before. It was a normal sight on him. He’d grown used to the sight of scars on himself.

           But god if the sight of scars on Lance didn’t make him sick with anger. How dare anyone put someone like Lance. Someone so self-sacrificing and pure through pain like that? How dare anyone touch the one he and his mate were hoping to claim. How. Dare. They. Even Keith had bristled at the sight. Wings stiffening and puffing up in a threatening pose to make everyone aware of his anger. Shiro’s own wings had a similar response. While Pidge cowered. Pressing her wings against her back to make herself smaller as she pressed herself into Allura’s side. As if she were hoping to disappear into the princess. Hunk looked like he wanted to throw up.

           Lance was a wingless.

           An abused, and mistreated boy.

           He swam and climbed, and did all of these amazing things, because he had no escape besides hiding into the waves of the ocean or the rocks of the shore. Having claws and ways to survive in a world that rejected him. Treated him as if he were a plague.

           Lance had been afraid of them.

           Afraid to tell them.

           Because he was hurt so badly before that he didn’t see any mercy. Probably didn’t think he was worthy of mercy. Only knowing hands raised to hurt him. Voice raised to yell. Shunned from affection. Preening sessions. Home. The beach was his home. The fantasy of being called home.

           The ocean called for him like the sky called for them.

           Shiro could understand it now, why Lance didn’t trust them. Why he was in pain.

           But that was over now.

           Royal blue eyes, dark and light as the ocean. With kindess and gentle waves, as well as storm and raging waters opened to them as the tan boy felt out of the pod and into their arms. Hands pressing flat against his back in a silent telling that they knew. Yet still held him close. And Lance closed his eyes. Letting himself be held by the two males. Held in their wings. Lance opened in his eyes, and in his mind he say the ocean. The pull of the tides pulling at his mind. Calling him home. And he closed his eyes with a smile. Holding on tighter.

           One day, he’d be a part of the ocean. One day, he’d get to go home. But today wasn’t the day for Lance to go marching home. Not yet. His sky of water had to wait for him, there was still the ocean of air for him to learn.

           He didn’t think his home minded waiting just a little bit longer.

           He’d be welcomed when the tide came all the same.

           Just, not now.

7 times they noticed. (1/7)

(bc I need to make up for the langst I posted last night so here’s so comfort and a little bit of hurt. This is just Shiro’s, the other ones will be up soon. The only warning is a depiction of a panic attack.)


1. Lance winced as Shiro cut into him with words like he was expertly wielding Keith’s bayard. He would’ve found it funny how dad-like he was being, except: a) probably would cause Shiro to bail him out more, and b) it wasn’t very funny at all.

“Don’t you see how childish you’re being! This isn’t just serious, this is a matter of life or death, and your antics cannot get in the way. At the end of the day, do you want to be responsible for someone’s death?” The question sent a wave of nausea through Lance, and he was almost pulled off his feet by a wave of static that clouded his mind as something inside his chest burst. He grabbed his chest in alarm. His breathing was quickening. His chest was on fire. Oh god. Oh god. He curled inwards. Trying to protect himself.

“…” He tried to speak but no words came out, just harsh breaths as he lent against the wall, staring upwards through tears at Shiro who was frozen in fear.

“…Lance? Oh. Um… fuck.” If Lance was in any state of mind, he would have never let Shiro go for swearing in front of him, but as it was, it made Lance’s breath speed up. Shiro approached him like he would a possible hostile alien, slowly and with his hands outstretched. “Okay, Lance, if you can, put your arms around me and follow my breaths. Is that okay?” His voice was low and non-threatening, and in response Lance nodded slowly. His hands shaking as Shiro sat next to him, putting his hand on Lance’s arm. Shiro started taking audible, slow breaths. Lance winced as this effort made his breathing uneven, alternating from barely controlled slow breaths to shaky shallow ones.

“Thanks.” He choked out. Shiro shook his head.

“Don’t talk, just focus on the breathing.” Lance had enough humour to roll his eyes at him, and melodramatically breathed in and breathed out, causing Shiro to laugh, before his smile melted into a concerned frown.  “I’m so sorry Lance.”

“Don’t be. You’re right, of course.” Lance looked down, not willing to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Just because you were goofing off doesn’t mean I should have said that. It was way out of line. I just –” Shiro trailed off.

“I’m scared too.” Lance responded quietly. “I know. I know that this is a life-or-death thing, but I just can’t think about it. I’m not like you, or Keith, or Allura. I have to distract myself. If I think about for one second someone else dying on my account I just –” Lance’s breath started to quicken again, and Shiro stopped him, beginning the audible intakes and exhales of breath once more. Lance found his voice again. “You’re good at that. Unsurprisingly.”

“Well, thank Coran actually.” Shiro smiled as Lance scoffed. “No really, apparently they’re quite common for Alteans as well as humans. I still get them occasionally, but they were really bad when, you know…” Shiro trailed off before gathering his thoughts once more. “Listen. Are you alright?”

Lance laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course buddy, don’t worry about it.” He patted Shiro’s arm, got up from the ground and started to walk away when he felt Shiro’s metal arm on his shoulder.

“Really. We all deal with trauma differently, and I’m worried. These coping mechanisms are all fine and good until they start hurting you and other people.” Shiro was staring down at him and Lance shrunk under his worry. Of course Shiro was worried about the others.

“I’m really sorry I’ve been a pain.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a mockery of sheepishness. “I’ve been distracted but don’t worry, to quote our lord Efron, I’ll get my head in the game.” Shiro’s frown did not disappear. “Seriously, dude, don’t worry.” Lance smiled.

“Just, if you need to talk, please do. Whatever problems you have are important, not just for the team’s performance, but for your health as well. Okay? And if you can’t talk to me, talk to Hunk, or Pidge, or even Keith.” Shiro insisted, gesturing emphatically as Lance rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Lance’s face softened, his mask melting away.

“I’m just so scared. What if I never see my family again?” His already tear-filled eyes began brimming once more. “And I’m so scared that I’ll mess up everything, I mean, how the hell can I compare to you guys? Keith’s an amazing combatant, Coran and Allura are the best at strategies, you’re a great leader, Hunk’s an awesome engineer, and Pidge is just a genius!” Shiro stared at Lance as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.” He pulled his hands over his face. “God, and I’m supposed to be the leader.” Shiro straightened up, looking at Lance. “I can’t express how sorry I am. I forget, I suppose, that you’re children. But know we’re all terrified; and know that we couldn’t do it without you. Because your joking does help, Lance, it breaks the mood and reminds us why we’re fighting - for our humanity. You’re important.”

Lance stood in shock. He wiped the tears off his face.

“Gosh Shiro, you’re such an old man!” He started laughing.

Shiro crossed his arms and stared at Lance. His frown didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come on you youngin, we’ve got training to do.” He walked out of the room, shaking his head. Lance smiled. Maybe things were alright, even if he was just saying it to pacify him. Still. It counted.

perhaps.


Read the other parts:

(nb as of 6/4/17: Hunk is up (along with the Shiro and Pidge ones) others will follow! Edited to flow better, thanks to the anon who mentioned it.)

(nb as of 7/4/17: Coran is up!)

(17/4/17: Allura is posted!)

(this is platonic btw please do not tag as shance or anything similar.)

Merciless - (M)

Genre; Smut

Length; 3,300+ words 

Kinks; creampie, degradation, punish fucking, breathplay, impact play, etc

Originally posted by taeils-potato-hope

Hoseok and you always had this love/hate relationship going on; one moment you’d both be super chill, joking around with one another then the next you’d be at each other’s throats. 

This was one of those times. 

“Fuck off..” You muttered as Hoseok called you a bitch while he plopped himself down onto the couch beside you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in pure annoyance at the situation you were in; just having to be alone with him pissed you off. 

Hoseok turned to you, “Why are you always like this with me?” He asked, combing his fingers through his parted brunette hair. “I’m always so nice to you, y/n. What makes you wanna be so damn rude all the time?” 

As soon as you heard the false innocence his voice, you scoff in disbelief; Was he really trying to pull that shit with you? 
“Do you really want to fucking know Hoseok?” You practically shouted as you turned to face him. 

Keep reading

My Biggest Mistake (Barnes/Romanoff/Rogers x reader)

Request:  Cheating Angst of Bucky cheating on the reader with Natasha (Reader’s best friend) And when she finds out, Bucky and Natasha go running to apologize to her. But the reader doesn’t wanna hear it, so she ignores them. One day, Steve tries to convince her to forgive the both of them, because of how sad both, Bucky and Natasha were for the mistake. Which the reader comes in and forgives them ^^ (MAKE IT SUPA ANGSTY PLEASE) THANK YOU AGAIN BONNIE! ILYSM! 

Okay, I’m not a fan of full-on cheating stories, so I toned it down a little.  Also, I’m not very forgiving of it.  I hope you like where I took it tho!

You should have known.  

Keep reading

Over Dramatic l Tom Holland

Summary: Pregnant reader gets a little over dramatic when things don’t go her own way when making a special meal Tom and her’s anniversary dinner.

Warning: Like…a few swear words

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

A/N: This is my first Tom Holland imagine so just excuse the horrible writing and all.


Originally posted by parkery

Today marked Tom and Y/N’s five year anniversary and Y/N wanted to do something special for her husband and father to her future child. She stare down at the instructions in her cook book and followed them step by step. She had never been too good at cooking.

Between Tom filming in Atlanta for Infinity War and him finishing up the press tour for Spiderman: Homecoming, Y/N rarely ever got to see him. But alas, he promised he would be home for their special five year anniversary.

The thought of being able to be with Tom in just a few hours, excited Y/N. She wanted everything to be perfect for his arrival. She called Harrison, Tom’s best mate, and asked him to pick up Tom from the airport while she prepared everything back home. She set up a nice candle lit dinner and was planning on making his favorite dish.

“Add…one cup of oil,” Y/N read from the book, glancing between the book and the dish. She followed the instructions precisely and when she was done, she carefully put the casserole dish into the oven and set a time.

She wiped her hands clean on her apron, her hands brushing over the small baby bump. She made her way into the living room and flopped down onto the couch. Y/N glanced at the clock and made a mental note in her head that the dish needed to be ready before seven.

She had been running all over town today, picking up the ingredients for the dinner and the decorations. So it was no surprise that she fell asleep instantly. She was not awoken by the sound of the oven timer going off, but by the smell of smoke. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she sat up immediately. “Oh shit,” she raced into the kitchen, now seeing the smoke leaking from the oven. She opened the oven and the kitchen was quickly over taken in smoke. With mittens on both hands, she reached inside and grabbed the dish, pulling it out and threw it on top of their stove. “Shit,” she cursed to herself, now staring at the burnt meal.

She kicked the oven door and immediately regretted it. She clutched her foot in pain as she felt tears cloud her vision. Then she remembered:

“The pudding!” She raced over to the refrigerator and threw the door open. She scrunched her nose in disgust before reaching in and pulling out the so called ‘vanilla pudding.’

She had been craving it recently and asked her mother for the recipe. When making it though, it was suppose to turn solid. And now here it lay, liquidized in her sink.

“Shit, Tom’s gonna kill me,” she muttered before pouring the pudding down the drain. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she heard the sound of glass shattering from the dinning room.

She raced over into the dinning room and gazed at the catastrophe in front of her. Tessa, Tom’s dog, held the corner of the table cloth in her mouth and was slowly pulling it backwards, resulting in the dishes sliding off the table and onto the floor.

“Tessa. Stop,” she begged. When she took a step forward, Tessa bolted, dragging the entire setting with her. The sound of all of Y/N’s dishes, crashing to the floor. “No,” she choked back a sob.

She made her way back to the kitchen and opened the wine cabinet. Just her luck, it was empty. Tom had advised her not to drink anything while pregnant, saying it could ‘hurt the baby.’ But now she was desperate. Nothing had gone her way and Tom would be home in a few minutes.

Y/N lean against the countertop and let herself sink to the floor. She hugged her knees and cried to herself. She didn’t even hear the sound of their apartment door opening nor the sound of Tom calling for her.

When Tom walked into the kitchen, he saw his loving wife in a different position on the floor. She lay on her back, against the cool tiles. Her arms and legs spread out as she cried loudly.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” She kicked she right foot slightly in a fit. “Come on, love. Use your words.”

“N-Nothing w-went as planned tonight,” she cried.

“What do you mean by that, love?”

“I was g-going to cook y-your favorite meal but instead, I burnt it,” Tom stepped over her leg and passed the doorway. He went over to stand near her head and he just so happened to look into the sink. 

“What’s this junk in the sink?” When hearing the nickname for her food, she cried even louder.

“It was suppose to be pudding,” Tom raising his eyebrows at her. She brought her hands up and covered her face with them. “I’m such a failure. I wanted tonight to be special and instead, I ruined it.”

Tom knelt down and cupped her tear stained cheek. “Hey, now. Don’t think negative. I’m sure we have something else in this house that we can eat.”

“B-But I wanted for you to h-have a good home cooked m-meal for once. You’ve been working so hard recently. You deserved this and I screwed it up. I am suppose to be a good h-housewife. I am suppose to cook for you. I’m suppose to take care of you,” she sobbed, gazing up into his big brown eyes.

“Well, darling. Nobody’s perfect,” he said, shaking his head. “And you do take care of me, more than you think.”

“How?”

“Well…you keep me going every day you’re not with me. You take care of my parents and brothers for me when I am not around. You,” he gently placed his hand on top of her stomach. “You’re taking care of our child. You’re carrying life!”

Y/N let out a small laugh and sniffed up her tears. Tom brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and continued:

“You are the most amazing, talented, and most beautiful woman I have ever met. I owe you everything,” he praised. He laced his arm around her shoulder and pulled her up into a sitting position.

Tom leaned back against the cupboards and pulled Y/N into his lap. Her forehead tucked into the crook of his neck and her legs draped over his. He rubbed her back with one hand and cradled her thigh in the other. He turned his head and pressed a gently kiss to her head.

“I love you so much. You literally have no idea,” he smiled. Y/N giggled slightly and nuzzled her face deeper into his neck, placing a kiss at the base of his neck.

“I love you too.”

“Happy Anniversary, love.”

Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 8  A/B/O

A/N: HEY GUYS! It’s finally here! This is definitely one of my favorite chapters. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 9 later on tonight (I live in the us so it’ll be a bit later for y'all lol) but I’ve made it halfway at least!! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Warnings: Minor character death. Swearing. Hella angsty.

Series Masterlist

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Study Session

Spencer Reid x Reader (smut)

Requested: No. But, this is dedicated to the wonderful @reidoneshots because I promised rach that I would dedicate my next smut to her, and so… here it is ;)

Summary: When you’re struggling to study for you final Law exam, you decide to seek help from your unusually handsome professor…

Word Count: 1,516, Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it, yo)

A/N: This is a Professor!Reid x Student!Reader so if you’re like grossed out by that then I urge you to skip this fic, but other than that yeah & also I know that Reid doesn’t have a bachelor’s in Law or any affiliation with it, from what we’ve seen but I just thought it would be kinda fun.

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

You sat on your bed, books sprawled out in every corner as you attempted to take in the extensive information. You were going to take your final exam tomorrow and although you felt prepared, last minute studying was always a great option. Your professor had told you in your last session with him that you could find him on campus in his office if you needed help. “What the heck,” you sighed out, knowing that a little help couldn’t hurt.

You walked into his office and found him sitting amongst masses of essays and books. He took a moment to look up from marking, “Y/N?” he dragged his glasses off of his face, placing it on top of his book. “Hi. I was wondering if I could take you up on that study offer?” you asked setting down your things in the antique chair opposite his desk. “Of course, please sit,” he replied enthusiastically which was unusual considering it was almost 2 in the morning, “Would you like some water?” he inquired, you smiled up at the man before giving a short nod.

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Part 2- Hal Carter 

Read part 1 here

Pairing: Hal Carter x Reader
Part: 2/?
Warnings: Smut - slight angst 
Summary: Hal takes you for a ride in his pickup truck
A/N: This is the second part in a series based on this post. I’ve been writing this for a while and I’m honestly so proud of it. Thank you for @writemarvelousthings for encouraging me. Please come let me know what you think! This is the song I listened to while writing - You Belong To Me - Jo Stafford
Word count : 4,157

Originally posted by lancetucker

The creak and slam of Hal’s red pickup truck door is unmistakable as he pulls up to your house and got out. Checking your lipstick one last time, you kiss your mother on the cheek and tell her not to wait up. She fixes you with the stare that you knew all too well. You skip out of the house, the screen door shutting behind you with a screech. Looking up you see Hal, he’s leaning against his truck a playful smirk spreading on his lips when he spots you. 

“Well don’t you look like sugar and spice and everything nice” he drawls, a cheeky chuckle following his words as he rids himself of the straw he was chewing. He takes you in his strong arms planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Your momma isn’t watching out of the window again is she?” he mumbles. 

You laugh and shake your head placating his fear, “she’s fixing dinner”. 

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Have You Ever Seen a Heart Shatter

Request: can you write an imagine with newt scamander where the reader compares herself so much to tina??? angst angst angst please!! your writing is astounding btw ❤️❤️

Word Count: 2,156

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 2

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


“Tina Goldstein, resident goddess.” You mutter as you storm through the front door and down the long staircase rife with splinters and creaky spots. Not to mention the unkind tenants that live on the third and fourth floors. Their shouts follow you down as your boots crash against the steps.

Tina this, Tina that, Tina the infallible. You skip three steps when you jump down onto the landing and yank open the front door. Tina can do no wrong, even when she’s unemployed and obsessive.

The wind slams into your side, trying to knock you off-balance. You shiver but stride forward, no real destination in mind other than to be far away from her.
No one had even looked up when you shoved your chair back from the kitchen table, too busy hanging on every word of some story about capturing some man that used a spell in front of some muggle to care about you. They love Tina’s stories about her adventures.

It’s not like you’re exactly employed. You’d met Newt on a research trip years before. The chemistry between the two of you had been obvious to everyone and it hadn’t taken long for the two of you to pair up for the study. Soon enough, Newt asked you to help him observe some mooncalves under the starry sky and, after some laughing and held hands, a new relationship began. The two of you agreed to work together and alternate research trips. This trip to release Frank was one of Newt’s ideas, meaning that you’re really nothing more than a magizoologist’s assistant.

Still, it’s more fascinating than just running after people and bringing them into MACUSA, right? You meet some of the rarest beasts on your journeys. Tina does nothing but arrest people and memorize the ridiculous laws on magic that Americans put into place. Every auror has stories just as mesmerizing as Tina’s, though the others disagree. Even Newt seems to think they’re interesting enough to warrant ignoring you.

You scowl and wrap your arms around yourself as you continue forward. If Newt wants to spend all of his time with some other girl with perfect hair let him.

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The Generous Fuckboy {Im Jaebum}

Prompt:  13 and 18 with fuckboy jaebum please :)  || Requests Open || Smut Game

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: fuckboy!Jaebum, SMUT, multiple orgasms, oral -female receiving-, semi-public sex, 

**I wrote this and even I’m a little fucked up -it may just be me tho- 

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Unbreakable (Part 2)

———————————————————————————————————
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Torture, Swearing, Abduction
A/N: Prompt. Part 1. So, here is the second part of ‘Unbreakable’! Honestly having so much fun writing this one, let me know what you guys think! Feedback is always appreciated!
———————————————————————————————————

All Bucky could do was stand, frozen in place, watching you walk away from him once again.

“You want to know why she hates water?” A feminine voice murmured from behind him, causing him to jump, much like you had moments before.

“Wanda?” He asked, face a picture of confusion, “How the hell did you get up here?”

“I have my ways…” She smirked, twirling red mist in her fingertips, “But you didn’t answer my question, do you want to know?”

“Yes.” He answered immediately, hands clenching into fists as he took a step forward.

“It’s not pretty…” Wanda murmured, eyes clouding with concern, “I wouldn’t usually do this… but you need to understand what you did…”

“I know Wanda, just… show me.” He answered, sucking in a breath as Wanda placed her hands on his temple, red clouding his vision for a moment, before everything went black.

Eyes snapping open, Bucky immediately locked onto a familiar-looking young girl, who couldn’t be any older than 5.

“Y/N?” Bucky murmured, jaw going slightly slack at the scene in front of him, watching your small form cowered in the corner, knees drawn up to your chest as you sobbed into them. Eyes flickering around the room, he took in the peeling wallpaper and dingy carpet, frowning at the large scorch mark up one of the walls. Letting his hand run over some of the dusty pieces of furniture, he lingered for a moment over a familiar looking stuffed bear, lightly singed around the edges but otherwise fine. Just as he went to pick up the object, the door slammed open, only narrowly avoiding falling off its hinges.

“There it is!” A greying man stuttered, pointing towards your cowered form.

“Get it, before it can do any more damage!” Said another, cowering behind a large group of angry, yet scared, looking men.

Before Bucky could move, two of the men grabbed you by the arms, hauling you out of the room kicking and screaming.

“Daddy!” You wailed, tears streaming down your cheeks, “Don’t let them take me!”

The greying man seemed to slink back at your words, Bucky being able to easily identify him as your father. As Bucky felt the anger begin to build, the same red mist from earlier clouded his vision, dragging him back into the darkness.

Waking with a gasp, Bucky only felt more confused than before. Why did those men seem so scared of a small child? Why would your own father let them take you? Pushing himself up off the hard ground, he quickly realised, he wasn’t back at the compound. Eyes adjusting to the flickering light of the room, he couldn’t work out where the source of light was coming from. There was no lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, none on the walls, and no lamps. That’s when he realised. It was you. Sat cross-legged on the floor, the still young version of you let a small flame fill the palm of your hands. Letting a smile tug at his lips, Bucky watched your childlike wonder at your powers, knowing just how powerful you’d one day turn out to be.

Just as Bucky started to get lost in the moment, letting his eyes focus solely on the flame that was burning in your small hands, it was once again shattered by the sound of the large metal door crashing open, your small form immediately extinguishing the flame.

“Oh look, it’s the freak!” A malicious looking man spat out as he entered the room, your younger self immediately backing away as far as possible. “N’awww is the freak scared?” He laughed, sauntering over to you before dragging you up by the arm.

“No no no no no…” Your younger self sobbed, as the man dragged you towards a small, grimy looking tub. Turning on the rusted tap, water began to sputter out at a slow rate.

Realising what was happening, Bucky felt his jaw clench and hands ball up into fists.

Just as Bucky went to take an angry step forwards, the man hauled you up and dunked you under the water, ignoring the way you struggled in his arms, small hands clawing away at where his arms kept you submerged.

“Stop it! She’s a child! You’re going to kill her!” Bucky found himself yelling, trying to get to you, yet something was holding him back.

Finally bringing you out of the water, the man smirked as you struggled for breath.

“This is what you get for being a freak!” He spat, backhanding you across the face, not hesitating another moment before dunking you back under the water.

Letting out an enraged growl, Bucky went to storm at the man, the red mist stopping him in his tracks and dragging him back under.

Gasping awake, Bucky immediately shot up, eyes wild as he span around, trying to take in his surroundings.

“You’re back Barnes, it’s okay.” Wanda murmured, smiling sadly as Bucky let out a shaky breath and slumped to the floor, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not okay!” He yelled, the sound only slightly muffled as he threw his head back, “That little girl, she…” He started, flinching slightly as Wanda rested a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s all grown up, Bucky.” Wanda murmured, “She’s okay.”

“But she’s not, is she! I…I fucked that up! She was okay, she was safe, and I had to go and literally throw her back into all that shit!” He shouted, tugging at his hair as he ranted.

“Then make it right Barnes!” Wanda loudly interjected, pulling his hands out of his hair, “You are the only one who can.” She said more softly, patting him on the shoulder before turning to leave.

———————————————————————————————————
Tag List:
@itskatiejames98, @missmalfoy1703, @dracodormiensnunquamtitillandush, @brandinicole911, @thatonerenegade, @tired-alpaca, @artprincessbree, @greasepan, @thxsoldixr, @paranoid-borderline-insane, @geeky-girl-394, @megandrawsspace, @llain37naroh, @gunsmoke-blu, @iamwarrenspeace
@becauseifuckingcan, @ballerinafairyprincess@cassandras-musings,  @masevaldez@pinkhappypanda@marvel-kiss@graysonmalfoy, @mp938368, @piercetheveilthatgrows, @bobabucky@supernaturalisbae1, @katie27hp@sassmasterqueen, @ballerinafairyprincess, @shamvictoria11, @theepicbvbninja

Unbreakable Tag List:
@wantingtobekorra, @cecifina, @buckyismyaesthetic, @annalisestark,  @geeky-girl-394, @fxckmebuck, @cheeeeeseits, @melconnor2007, @noeypiiepiie, @juliabrghs, @laurykat23, @annie-are-u-ok, @girlwith100names, @winchesterandpie, @sergeant-barnes-and-his-captain, @bexboo616, @glitterintheairblog, @obsessedtmifangirl, @a-girl-who-loves-disney, @hollycornish, @buckyappreciationsociety, @happylilwhore, @pressigh, @abbybills22, @burrbbery, @zombienatty89-blog, @hillrich, @becomeonewithbob, @aknerdchick, @mssquared42, @bobabucky 

(If you want to be tagged, then send me a message HERE letting me know which imagines you’d like to be tagged in!)

P.S- Thankyou to my wonderful beta readers who helped me with this one! @geeky-girl-394, @masevaldez, @letterstomyself21, @visiblethirdspace, @ainsley-hayes-seaborn, @caitlyn221b, @iobeyfandoms

The Signs as Their Breakup Songs

Aires: Gravity - EDEN
“But if you keep second guessing then there’s only gonna be one end

But you can leave if you really want to
And you can run if you feel you have to
And I’ll be fine if you ever ask me
I know its hard, but no one said its easy
Falling’s easy”

Taurus: Santa Monica Dream - Angus and Julia Stone
“I’m singing songs about the future
Wondering where you are
I could call you on the telephone
But do I really want to know?
You’re making love now to the lady down the road
No I don’t, I don’t want to know

I’m somewhere, you’re somewhere
I’m nowhere, you’re nowhere
You’re somewhere, you’re somewhere
I could go there but I don’t

Goodbye to my Santa Monica dream”

Gemini: Ghost - Halsey
“You say that you’re no good for me
Cause I’m always tugging at your sleeve
And I swear I hate you when you leave
But I like it anyway

My ghost
Where’d you go?
I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me
My ghost
Where’d you go?
What happened to the soul that you used to be?”

Cancer: Two Years Ago - Ellie Goulding
”It’s now just sparks
Now the fireworks are fading
Is it over?
Lost you in the summer two years ago

You, you, you
I’m still thinking ‘bout you, you, you
Two years ago
You, you, you
I’m still thinking 'bout you, you, you
Two years ago

If there’s no storm, why’re we a shipwreck?
Thought our love is insurmountable
He knows my heart is still aching
Never thought it would be caused by you”


Leo: Fix You - Coldplay
“When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you”

Virgo: The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band
“You cannot quit me so quickly
There’s no hope in you for me
No corner you could squeeze me
But I got all the time for you, love

The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain

But will I hold you again?
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?’
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we’re playing”

Libra: Oh My Word - Flip Grater
“Oh my word I’ve been waiting
For you to walk on by
Oh my word I’ve been staying
Inside safe and dry

Will you live underground
And crawl out when it’s light
Do you fail to stand up
And stand in when it’s right

Oh my word I’m just saying
Would you aim this high
Oh my word I’m just waiting
For you at my side”

Scorpio: Can’t Forget You - My Darkest Days
“Whoever said this pain, would ever go away
Didn’t know what it meant to, be here without you
Is everything you see, reminding you of me?
Does it hurt when you breathe too?
'Cause it does when I do, cause it does when I do

When anybody says your name I wanna run away,
I keep remembering I can’t forget you
It doesn’t matter when I try it happens anyway,
It’s been forever and I can’t forget you
With every single day, it won’t go away
The way I feel about you
And when it’s said and done, you’re the only one
And I can’t regret you, so I can’t forget you”

Sagittarius: Doomed - Bring Me The Horizon
“You can have my heart

So come rain on my parade
'Cause I wanna feel it
Come shove me over the edge
'Cause my head is in overdrive
I’m sorry, but it’s too late
And it’s not worth saving
So come rain on my parade
I think we’re doomed
I think we’re doomed
And now there is no way back”

Capricorn: Please Don’t Go - Barcelona
”All those arrows you threw, you threw them away
You kept falling in love, then one day
When you fell, you fell towards me
When you crashed in the clouds, you found me

Oh, please don’t go
I want you so
I can’t let go
For I lose control”

Aquarius: Oceans - Seafret
“It feels like there’s oceans
Between me and you once again
We hide our emotions
Under the surface and tryin’ to pretend
But it feels like there’s oceans
Between you and me

I want you
And I always will
I wish I was worth
But I know what you deserve
You know I’d rather drown
Than to go on without you
But you’re pulling me down”

Pisces: Running Up That Hill - Placebo
“You don’t want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware that I’m tearing you asunder.
There is thunder in our hearts, baby.
So much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don’t we?

You, be running up that hill
You and me, be running up that hill
You and me won’t be unhappy.”

candy floss

length: 1.9k

genre(s): the fluffiest angst

triggers/warnings: none!

an accident in class turns simon’s hair pink, triggering old memories for baz and bringing the two of them closer than before

a/n: much love to @cherryonsimon for the beta! go tell her nice things!! @bazwillendinflames i don’t know if this is exactly the fic you were imagining but thank you for getting me out of my writing slump ^__^ from now until the end of july i will be posting a new fic every wednesday so you can track the tag #egfics to keep up!! (the readmore might not work on mobile so just click my url to get to the post!!)



Baz

I smell Snow before I see him. I’d know the scent anywhere. The cloying smokiness of him; forever the cruelest joke. I hear him too, clomping up the stairs in that way of his. Like he’s always got somewhere to be, and he has to be bloody loud to get there.

He gets closer to the room, and I brace myself. I don’t know what kind of mood he’s in, but I don’t feel like fighting today. I haven’t been to any of my classes . Instead, I’ve been working on a paper for my last one of the day, and I still haven’t finished. (It’s Snow’s fault, of course. I’ve had days, but he keeps distracting me.)

The door to our room flies open with a bang and there’s Snow, breathing heavy and scowling. He looks like he’s just been for a run. I almost comment on his appearance, something snide and cutting. Something sure to remind him that we hate each other.

Then I notice his hair. It’s…

It’s pink. Simon’s hair–his normally bronze hair–is pink. Not just pink, but the colour and texture of the candy floss. The kind I used to get whenever I went to the fair with my mother when I was a child. When my mother was still alive. The memory hits me hard. She’d despised the stuff. Hated the way it made everything sticky and pink. But she knew I loved it, and made sure to get me one every time.

Feelings that had been locked away for years threaten to spill out, and I turn my head. I can’t look at him. Not with that hair. It hurts too much. I can feel Snow glaring at me, though I can’t imagine why. Surely he can’t be blaming me for this. I wasn’t even in class today; again, I’ve been working on this paper. I wonder what I missed.

He clears his throat. “This is all your fault.”

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