and look at how he is smiling in all of them; it's wonderful

Richie Tozier hasn’t spoken a word to anybody since he came to Derry in the middle of the school year. Until he talks to Eddie Kaspbrak.

Previous chapters: Chapter one. Chapter two. Chapter three. Chapter four. Chapter five.


Chapter six.

The songs are hard to read into, but Eddie tries. At least there’s one thing Eddie knows for sure: Richie likes him. Why else would Richie put songs with lyrics like you’re the one running through my brain and oh man you’re making my crazy on the mix? Unless it’s some kind of sick joke, but Eddie tries not to think about that so much.

(its not a joke)

(he holds my hand)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You: I want to protect Deku from all the harm in the world!! / Also you: *ships him with the very person who caused him suffering for 10 years*... huh, okay

I actually kind of want to thank you for being cordial about this instead of just… insulting me anonymously like others. 

Granted, I just ignore them/delete them, but still. It’s appreciated.

Since you honestly seem a little bit curious and confused, I want to answer this with a more specific response! So thank you for being reasonable about it. 

There are some things I want to clear up first.

You’re completely entitled to your opinion on a ship, my anonymous friend, and I also respect and understand why people hate the ship and even Bakugou as a character. 

Do I share the same feelings? No, not at all, but I definitely understand it. 

It would be dreadfully boring if every human who experienced the same artistic medium had the same exact opinions and points of views on a character/ship, no? 

At least, I would think so. I love the variety in opinion and watching different people fall in love with anime/books/movies, whatever, in totally different ways and coming out of them with multiple conclusions is wonderful to witness. 

It… almost feels similar to getting angry with someone for picking green as their favorite color, and because it’s not your favorite color you argue about how the different shades don’t make sense and shouldn’t be acknowledged as a favorite.

(Not you, specifically, Anon, but more of a general “you,” if that makes sense.)

Alright. So.

What draws me to the the Bakugou Katsuki / Izuku Midoriya ship, and the two characters individually (as well as their canon dynamic) is based on the concept of healing, forgiveness, growth, redemption, understanding, mutual respect, and genuine deep-rooted pain and realistic acknowledgement of the gratuitous and toxic elements of their relationship

And this only scratches the surface, believe it or not.

Yes, Bakugou Katsuki treated Izuku horribly while growing up (hell, he’s still an egotistical asshole). The infamous line in the manga/anime with Katsuki suggesting Izuku “find a Quirk in the next life” is inexcusable, and he should be held accountable for this. 

We’ve been allowed glimpses of their dismantled friendship at Katsuki’s doing, and Izuku’s equally flawed and dangerous perspective in placing Katsuki on a pedestal for his admiration. 

Before I go further with this, I want to touch on things about how I view Izuku as a character, since something in your anonymous message struck me, with the quote you had written: 

“You: I want to protect Deku from all the harm in the world!!”

The thing is, when it comes to characters, and Izuku in particular… I don’t think I’ve ever adopted the mindset of “must protect the precious baby,” because I personally view Izuku as a very relatable and human character. 

I know that this doesn’t cancel one idea out from the other, since many wonderful authors/readers/viewers/consumers, whatever, who like BNHA have this same viewpoint. Clearing this up so that nothing is miscommunicated.

So.

This may seem strange, and a bit… actually yeah this is a little weird, but as a viewer, I see him as someone who strives for an incredible goal, is very determined, much stronger than he appears (and believes) both emotionally and physically, and it’s slowly becoming a surprise to both himself and everyone around him. 

But I see him as not just a character, per say, but a definite reflection of the other side to his dynamic to Bakugou Katsuki. 

(Will touch more on this later.)

He’s been acknowledged as a beloved presence, and I actually don’t like viewing Izuku as a “precious cinnamon roll,” because he’s so much more than that. 

QUICK NOTE HERE: I do not think it’s wrong to think of him this way. This is how I personally think, and how I want to hopefully portray the character in fics I write, or just in a general acknowledgement of him. 

He’s a character that thrives on a complex personality and series of motivations that make sense for a character his age, with his history, and with his flaws and strengths as a protagonist. 

Izuku being “adorable” falls to the very bottom of my list of reasons why I love and relate to him as a character, and when he engages in horrible situations that challenge him, I live for those moments. 

(I know I’m not alone in this. Bear with me.)

I love seeing characters like this suffer and get thrashed and struggle in the face of their darkest times. It shows depth, and a sense of darkness that defies the overly comfortable image that comes across in an anime that is, quite objectively, a bit less of a risk-taker in the earlier arcs in comparison to others.

So, with that in mind… it makes sense why people can’t stand Bakugou Katsuki as a character for treating Izuku like he does, and it also makes sense why Izuku is shipped with just about anyone who can grant him that feeling of “must protect.” 

Again, there is nothing wrong with this. 

In fact, I want to point out, for the sake of people who can’t stand BakuDeku and enjoy other ships, that I see, respect, and completely understand why you feel the way you feel. 

There’s even a strong sense of admiration for it, because you wonderful people are coming from a place that wants Izuku Midoriya to have a stable dynamic. 

This is an incredible, awesome, respectful thing, and shows so much love for Izuku as a character. 

So at this point, it may seem that I’m arguing against myself. That I’m shoving my own argument into the ground for why BakuDeku is my Number Two OTP, and how I’m arguing for its validity.

But, this is where I want to put some light onto the perspective that I have for this ship, and I don’t think I’ve ever gone this deep before on Tumblr.

I mentioned a little bit earlier that part of what makes Izuku shine as a character is how he affects other people. He brings out elements of characters that they won’t even realize themselves. (Todoroki Shouto, Shinsou Hitoshi, and All Might are both huge, and popular, examples of this, even though they’re not the only ones). 

His drive and his motivations are directed towards an incredible goal that is founded in the roots of his passion. And this aspect of Izuku? This passion, this drive, this embodiment of equal strengths and flaws balancing and cancelling each other out as he grows and learns? 

They are reflected in none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

I’m in love with the depth to this dynamic, with the potential that’s built on what they could accomplish together. 

Izuku cares deeply for Katsuki, and admires him and respects him, but even with that in mind he knows that Katsuki is an asshole. It’s important to acknowledge this, that Izuku will not let Katsuki take advantage of him in any way. 

And Katsuki, quite evidently, hasn’t attempted to take advantage of Izuku at all; in fact, he’s been only focused on what he wants to accomplish, and is overly obsessed with Izuku potentially surpassing him and “looking down on him” (as confirmed in the story.)

Katsuki is dreadfully immature in a lot of ways, but the fact that they contain so many similar ambitions, balanced on top of a quite impressive tower of flaws that parallel each other perfectly… this, is what draws me to them. 

Izuku and Katsuki are both incredibly ambitious and determined. They both work exceptionally hard. 

I wrote a list awhile back that needs to be updated again anyway, so…

Here are some general contrasts/parallels to them:

  • Izuku is humble, while Katsuki is egotistical.  
  • Katsuki is prodigiously talented, while Izuku had to go the extra mile, despite them both being hard workers.
  • Izuku lacks self-preservation, and Katsuki looks out for himself, first and foremost, and how he will accomplish his goal.
  • Katsuki exhibits elements of both an intense superiority/inferiority complex, while Izuku… doesn’t. 
  • Katsuki is more instinctive with his actions, while Izuku is analytical and a definite planner. 
  • Izuku’s Quirk is more focused on the all-embodying element, like a supercharged mechanism that can both protect and damage in spurts. Katsuki’s Quirk is designed as more of a shield for himself only, and can release constant bursts of power. The more they develop, the more similar their Quirks can become in terms of balance.
  • Katsuki is exaggeratedly egotistical and lacking humility, pushing others away and immediately accepting himself as the greatest priority. Izuku is the exact opposite, but with a quality just as exaggerated and vast: his anxious hesitation and lack of confidence in himself and only believing that he can succeed with others. 
  • Izuku’s struggles in confidence is mostly internal and how he thinks of himself. Katsuki’s confidence is both too bloated for him to handle and in the exact same plane as Izuku’s.
  • Izuku admires All-Might for being the ultimate protector and savior of lives with a smile on his face. Katsuki is focused on the idea of winning, and how heroes always prevail in the end. 

I could go on and on with this… but yeah.

Something I noticed, as well, while writing this, is that Katsuki and Izuku’s contrasts, while very prevalent, are often rooted in similar, if not the same, bedrock of emotions that affect them differently because of their personalities. 

Sometimes their points of views and emotions are so balanced and imbalanced at the same time that it takes awhile to look back and think through all of those individual moments.

And so, before this gets too unbearably wrong, I’m going to bring this home with emphasizing the main point of why I love writing this ship: it’s a challenge

A huge. Fucking. Challenge.

It begs the question: how can you make this ship work? How can you make their potential dynamic come together and brush through those layers of misunderstandings and reckless emotions? 

How can Bakugou Katsuki pull his head out of his ass and realistically come into his own while learning to appreciate the person who’s respected and admired him for so long? 

How can Izuku Midoriya learn to stick up for himself when it comes to Katsuki and allow them both to be on equal ground, rather than Izuku always chasing the other? 

How can they get over their differences, and develop something beautiful and, dare I say it, healthy, after a possible length of years and years of mending?

For me, this ship demonstrates the gray areas of relationships, and the possibility of redemption for even the vilest people. 

For me, this ship revels in the depths of Izuku’s character as well as Katsuki’s, and how their dynamic can develop into something founded on equal respect, grounding, and healing. 

For me, this ship focuses on the damaged elements to both characters and embraces the toxicity to their current circumstance, as well as the awful and wonderful elements of their relationship down the line. 

For me, BakuDeku | KatsuDeku focuses on drama, realism, emotion, and the ultimate idea behind rebuilding, protecting, forgiving, and learning to pick up the pieces from one person to another.

There are no excuses for the damage done between these two. 

But there is something really beautiful, and tragic, about the potential in the horizon. 

So those are my thoughts. 

Thank you for inboxing, Anon.

;the touch of silk (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, sugar daddy! yoongi, vampire! yoongi
genre/warnings: smut, romance, blood mentions, but nothing too crazy, dirty talk, dom! Yoongi
words: 14,221

:: summary— in a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

Keep reading

tygermama  asked:

AU - The Jedi say "The Padawan Chooses The Master" Qui Gon lives, Obi Wan is very preoccupied, and Anakin is put into the creche as an Initiate to learn what he can until Qui Gon wakes up from his coma and gets yelled at by the Council. In the meantime, Anakin meets other Jedi Masters and when the Council asks him who he wants to be his teacher, his answer isn't Qui Gon. Instead it's *insert your fav Jedi here*

My Friend, I both hate you and love you for this prompt. Because I am so very very torn. But let me give it a go.

Naboo is a debacle. No one debates that. Qui-Gon Jinn comes back to the Temple barely alive, accompanied by his Padawan - the first Jedi in a millenia to have slain a Sith - and the powerful young boy they found on Tatooine.

At first they wait - while Obi-Wan Kenobi is considered more than deserving of Knighthood, they hold out hope that Qui-Gon will wake and perform the ceremony himself, and take Anakin on as he originally intended. It is not to be.

Obi-Wan is knighted and sent off on missions, Anakin remains in the creche - as Qui-Gon lives, it seems presumptuous to have any other Jedi take him on. But Qui-Gon may never wake, and so the more senior Masters take it upon themselves to get a feel for the too-powerful boy. Just in case.

Months later, Qui-Gon wakes.

He is in no shape to do anything more than argue with the council, but he is awake. Still, the matter of Anakin Skywalker is put off a little longer, until Qui-Gon is in a better position health wise. Besides, while he is not completely at ease in the ranks of the initiates, Skywalker has settled in somewhat - it will do no harm to wait a little longer. And it also gives some of them a bit more time to try an mitigate Jinn’s eventual bad influence.

A year after Naboo, the council requests the presence of Initiate Skywalker. The boy who faces them is so very similar and yet so very different from the child they interviewed a year earlier. Still far from emotionally balanced, but much less fearful. After all, by this stage he knows them all somewhat, and he has begun to accept that he is not going to be turned out - over the last year it has become very apparent that he cannot remain untrained, and as such the Creche Master had taken the time to explain the notion of a Padawan accepting a Master.

(They will never know how how much that notion affects Anakin. Because what slave chooses their own Master?)

And so they ask him. “Who would he choose as his Master?”

And Anakin is torn. Because this is a huge decision, and he knows it. Never before has he had the power to CHOOSE. He has to do this right. Qui-Gon Jinn freed him and brought him to the Temple. He is Anakin’s hero. It would make sense to accept him. And yet… What of the other Masters?

What about Master Billaba, who so patiently walked him through the First Forms when he worried about being so far behind his classmates? Or maybe Master Fisto, who laughs and smiles and pats him on the head and tells him not to worry, he will get the trick in time - has he considered a moving meditation, like this? Or even Master Windu, who is stern and forbidding, but UNDERSTANDS the anger that coils in his chest? And Master Koon - he’s kind and an absolutely WIZARD pilot. What should he do?

But Anakin Skywalker is a child of the Force. And all of the Masters he has encountered over the last year have told him the same thing. So he reaches out and…

The council watches as the boy raises his head and looks up at them with an unassailable sense of certainty. 

“I’m sorry Masters, but I can’t choose. Not yet. It’s not the right time.”

And it takes everything in him not to back down in the face of Qui-Gon’s sadness and the Council’s impatience, but Anakin stands firm.

The Force is speaking to him. Loud and clear.

“Not Now.”

In the end it is Yoda who breaks up the raucous arguments with a few firm taps of his gimmer stick. If the Force tells young Skywalker that now is not the time then so be it. The boy is still younger than the average new padawan, and still has some catching up to do. There is no hurry. Let him remain in the creche they shall, until the time is right.

And so they do. Except Anakin’s little demonstration along with the general increased interaction during Qui-Gon’s convalescence means that several of the Council members are seriously considering the merits of taking him on themselves. And Qui-Gon? He is determined to regain little Ani’s regard.

You can imagine the result. Anakin Skywalker becomes the envy of his classmates, as multiple senior masters court him to be their padawan. Plo Koon in particular seems to take great delight in tweaking Qui-Gon’s ire by allowing Anakin to learn to pilot the Temple ships, and Mace has spent a lot of time showing Anakin how to control his darker impulses. Kit sneaks him sweets but both he and Depa have the suspicion that they are not seriously in contention. Ironically all the attention has done wonders for his attachment issues.

Still, every time he is asked if he is ready to take a Master, Anakin will close his eyes and reach into the Force, before saying. “No. Not yet.”

Incidentally, his lack of Master has very much impeded the Chancellor’s efforts to spend time with the boy alone. After all, a Padawan is very different from an Initiate from a Jedi perspective - one is considered a semi-adult capable of assisting in basic mission duties while the other is not. The Chancellor may be their direct superior, but even he cannot order them to facilitate private audiences with a CHILD under their care. For now, he must make to with infrequent and supervised visits in which he must take care not to overstep the role of a genial man interested in the welfare of the child who saved his planet.

It infuriates him.

But anyway.

Time passes, and Anakin’s classmates start to dwindle, as they are either apprenticed (Anakin feels smug at having facilitated one of two of the matches - having Knights and Masters watching him keenly means he can try and push others in direction the Force suggests) or drawn towards alternate pathways. Anakin is nearing thirteen years of age, and he knows the time for a decision is coming soon.

But there are things he needs to make sure are in place first. Luckily, he knows who to speak to about that.

“Time then, it is, Young Skywalker?”

“Yes Master Yoda.”

“Hmm. Certain, you are?”

“Yes Master Yoda.”

“Good. Done well, you have, to follow the Force in this. Who is it, you have chosen?” 

Anakin tells him.

And the old Jedi starts cackling.

It is not long after that Anakin Skywalker stands before a large crowd of Knights and Masters (Because this? The apprenticeship of Initiate Skywalker? This is going to be the thing of temple legends and  NO ONE wants to miss out.) and asked who he would take as his master.

And Anakin Skywalker looks his choice straight in the eye as he speaks their name.

Obi-Wan Kenobi nearly faints there and then.

.

Let’s take a step back. 

When Obi-Wan Kenobi first accompanied his comatose Master back to the Temple, he had been consumed by their last conversation. The one in which he had promised Qui-Gon to train the boy. Except, those were obviously the words of a man who thought himself dying, and Qui-Gon still LIVED. When the council decides to put Anakin into the creche until things are more certain, Obi-Wan is so RELIEVED. Because while he would if he had to, Obi-Wan doesn’t feel READY to take a padawan just yet, not while he is still processing the end of his own apprenticeship, and Anakin is meant for Master Qui-Gon - Obi-Wan would never wish to steal that role while the possibility remains that the man will wake one day.

Still, he made a promise. And there are many ways to teach.

So Obi-Wan makes an effort to check in on Ani, make sure he’s settling in ok. It’s a big culture shock for the boy from Tatooine, and Obi-Wan does his best to help explain some of the things Temple raised initiates take for granted. Anakin’s  glee when he finally gets the hang of something is infectious, and Obi-Wan finds himself enjoying the time they spend together. 

When he starts taking missions as a Knight, Obi-Wan makes the effort to farewell Anakin every time he leaves, and if he can, brings him back some toy or trinket from wherever he ends up. Nothing major, but Anakin has often expressed his desire to visit every world in the galaxy one day, and he gets so excited even if all Obi-Wan has to show him is a rock he found while running for his life from upset dignitaries…

Obi-Wan thought his missions might be less exciting now he wasn’t partnered with the most infuriating diplomat in the Order. He was wrong.

When the Masters begin paying more attention to Anakin it is Obi-Wan he contacts for reassurance he is doing the right thing. After all he is listening to the Force, but what if he’s listening wrong? And Obi-Wan tells him he’s doing fine, to follow his instincts, and sorry he has to go now due to potential pirates, but maybe to take time with each of them to work out how well they connect, just in case the Force changes its mind? And it is Obi-Wan who tells him he should just confess about the incident with the door chimes, and reassures him that no one will hate him over the accident with the speeder. 

As time goes on, Obi-Wan becomes known in the Temple as the BEST source of information on the Skywalker Situation, because he has THE most up to date gossip on what Masters Jinn and Windu have decided to challenge each other with this time, or which Knight has decided to throw their hat into the ring most recently, only to find the kid too much to deal with. Obi-Wan finds himself feeling a little protective over Anakin, rolling his eyes at the latest stuff up on the part of Ani’s potential masters, and during one of his morning meditations he comes to the startling realisation that he is well and truly Attached to his young friend.

Well then.

So of course when it comes time for Anakin to make his final decision, Obi-Wan Kenobi puts on his best face and mentally tries to work out which master will have the honour of training the Chosen One. The selfish part of him hopes it’s not Qui-Gon. He adores his former Master, but time has convinced him that he would be a poor match for Anakin. And he wants what is best for the boy. 

Maybe once Anakin is safely matched to a Master of his own Obi-Wan might consider the merits of a Padawan himself. Certainly he is feeling a lot more confident in his skills that he was a few years earlier…

But then Anakin gives his name.

His.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

So many faces are turned to face them and he can feel them all asking “Why him?” and he doesnt have an answer and…

Anakin is looking at him. Waiting. For his response.

His heart gives him his answer, but he has to be SURE this is the boy’s decision.

“Why now Anakin?”

And Anakin smiles, bright and sure.

“Because you weren’t ready before.”

Oh.

Obi-Wan Kenobi laughs then, in joyous wonder and kneels to look the boy (his student!) in the eye.

“In that case, Anakin Skywalker, I would be honoured to be your Master, if you would agree to become my Padawan.”

And the Force sings.

~~~

I hope you’re not too disappointed! I was tempted to write a Plo Koon is Anakin’s Master AU, but in my heart of hearts, I just can’t keep the Team separated! :)

+

doarecords  asked:

Dustin misses part of history class and needs to copy some notes and Will being the amazing friend he is hands over his notebook without a thought. Its only a few minutes later, Dustin is long gone and Will freezes, flashing back to the entire page of Mike's names covered in hearts and doodles of them kissing and holding hands and little Byers charges through the halls like a bull and practically tackles Dustin, the poor boys books sliding across the hall Dusting is cursing.

skfks OKAY I LOVED THIS SO MUCH I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE 1.9K WORDS ABOUT IT SORRY

Will doesn’t even think twice about handing over his notebook to Dustin when he asks. He’d missed the first thirty minutes of history class that morning for a dentist appointment, and he’s been waiting until the lunch hour to be able to borrow Will’s notes on westward expansion.

“You could have borrowed my notes,” Mike points out from where he’s sitting beside Will on the creaky bench of the cafeteria table.

Dustin makes a scoffing noise and raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Mike, I’ve seen your chicken scratch. Will’s notes are like, fifty million times better than yours. He color codes them.”

Mike scrunches up his nose in distaste.

“My notes aren’t chicken scratch,” he protests half-heartedly, but he doesn’t bother disputing the fact that Will’s are objectively better. He knows he has no argument there.

“Anyway,” Dustin brushes Mike’s words off with a dismissive hand wave. “Thanks for this, Will. I owe you one.”

He places Will’s notebook carefully atop his own stack of books as Will shrugs easily and gives Dustin a small smile.

“No problem. But I definitely need it back before the end of the day. I’m sure Mrs. Hill is going to give us a pop quiz on all that stuff tomorrow.”

Dustin nods and finishes the sandwich he’s got in front of him in two huge bites, standing up from the bench before he’s even swallowed the last of it.

“I’m gonna go -,” he starts, but from across the table, Lucas cuts him off with an annoyed look.

“Stop talking with your mouth full!” he says, eyes narrowed and upper lip curled in disgust.

Will stifles a laugh as Dustin sticks his tongue out in Lucas’s direction - half-chewed sandwich and all - until Lucas throws a grape at him and tells him he’s revolting. Dustin just smiles with smug satisfaction and slowly, deliberately chews his last bite of food before opening his mouth to speak again.

“As I was saying,” he pauses to give a deliberate look in Lucas’s direction before turning back toward Will. “I’m gonna go to the library and copy down your notes now so you can have this baby back by the end of the day.”

He pats Will’s notebook like it’s some kind of precious goldmine and Will laughs.

“All right, Dustin. See you next period.”

All the boys say their goodbyes as Dustin gathers his books in his arms and makes his way out of the lunchroom. In the back of Will’s mind, something vague is picking at him - a persistent, nagging feeling that he’s forgotten something, but after briefly thinking on it, he still can’t figure out what.

He shrugs it off, distracted by the squeak-squish of tennis shoes on the scuffed linoleum and the snippets of too-loud conversations overlapping one another and echoing off the bare walls of the cafeteria. Across the table, Lucas is complaining about something Erica did last night and Will tunes himself into the story instead, laughing as Lucas regales them with the tale of his ridiculous little sister.

It’s not until a moment later - when Mike’s arm presses against his own in an accidental move (though he makes no motion to correct it), and Will’s heart does the same embarrassing, familiar fluttering dance in his chest that it always does when he’s near Mike, a pink flush creeping up over the tips of his ears - that Will remembers exactly what it is that he’s forgotten with sudden, sickening panic.

“Oh no.”

He doesn’t mean to speak the words out loud but they come out anyway, quiet and panicked, because he’s just made the kind of mistake that fills the pit of his stomach with a deep sense of horrifying dread: Will Byers has just handed Dustin a veritable confession of every feeling he’s ever had for Mike Wheeler, all conveniently placed in one spiral-bound notebook whose front page is filled with sketches and doodles and drawings composed secretly in crisp black ink.

And these are decidedly not the artistic endeavors that Will cares to share with his friends. No, these are furtive little pieces of his stupid, traitorous heart that his hand has spilled across the neat blue lines of college-ruled paper - drawings of Mike’s face with bubbly hearts all around it, doodles of Mike holding his hand, and, perhaps most embarrassingly, one tiny heart at the bottom of the page with the words Will Wheeler written in neat cursive inside it.

“Oh no,” Will repeats, louder this time, and Mike’s head immediately snaps up from where he’s poking at the food on his tray. Lucas also looks over at him curiously, eyebrows raised just the slightest.

They both ask, “what’s wrong?” in twin voices of concern, but Will’s already mumbled out some half-sentence about needing to go, hopping up from the table before they can question him again. Will rushes carelessly toward the cafeteria doors, running as fast as he can manage through the maze of tables and idling students around him.

In his periphery he can see Lucas and Mike clambering hurriedly up from the table as well, but Will keeps his eyes ahead.

“Mr. Byers, what do you think you’re -,”

A teacher tries to stop him with a hand on his shoulder but Will only moves faster, slipping easily out of her grip.

“Sorry,” he manages to blurt out as he rushes away from her.

He’ll be concerned about the ramifications of that later. Right now the only thing he can focus on is finding Dustin before he opens that stupid notebook. He hopes he hasn’t already made it to the library and looked at the damned thing. Will’s face burns hot with humiliation just thinking about it.

As he turns down the hall toward the library, his heart lifts as he spots Dustin just outside the library doors, Will’s notebook still balanced - unopened - in his arms.

“Dustin!” he calls out, voice echoing off the lockers lining the walls.

Dustin turns and looks up, surprised as Will comes barreling down the hallway toward him. Will realizes the second before it happens that he’s not going to be able to stop himself in time, the tread on his shoes wearing low, slip-sliding against the recently polished floor. He tries to slow himself down but his momentum propels him forward beyond his control.

“Dude, what -?”

The rest of Dustin’s sentence is stopped short as Will yells out, “I’m so sorry!” before he crashes directly, painfully, into him and both of them go tumbling to the floor in a tangled heap.

Dustin’s books slide haphazardly in every direction, spreading throughout the hallway. When he’s able to get his bearings enough to try to sit upright, Will thinks he’s definitely split his lip on the zipper of Dustin’s jacket, the tang of blood sitting sharp on his tongue as he slowly sits up.

“Jesus, Will!” Dustin groans out, disentangling their legs with a wince. “What was that all about?”

Before Will can find the words to respond, Lucas and Mike come rushing up behind them.

“Will!” Mike calls out, leaning down to place an arm around Will’s shoulders as he helps him up from the floor with careful, warm hands.

“Are you okay?”

He holds Will at arm’s length and looks him over for any visible injuries. His brow furrows harshly when he spots Will’s bleeding lip and he reaches out to press his thumb against it, gently wiping the blood away.

Will pulls back like he’s been burned, ducking his head as his heart does its best to climb out from behind the cage of his ribs.

“Mike, I’m fine,” he says.

From the floor, Dustin makes a grumpy noise in the back of his throat.

“Gee, I wonder if anyone’s going to ask how I’m doing, seeing how I was the one who was viciously attacked by the world’s smallest human battering ram over here.”

Will goes red as Lucas sighs long-sufferingly and says, “get up, you’re fine.”

Dustin makes a face in Lucas’s direction as Will extends his hand to help him up off the ground. He stutters out an apology in the process and he’s fairly certain Dustin tells him it’s okay, but Will is more than slightly distracted by the fact that he hasn’t been able to spot where the notebook went during their collision. He starts surveying the area around where they fell, hoping to find the thing so he can grab it and go already. He’s just about to check beneath the trophy display case across the hall when he’s hears Mike say, “Dustin, I got your - oh.”

Will turns quickly, something about the way Mike’s voice has gone strangely soft and confused setting off a fresh swell of panic in his chest. Across from him, Mike is standing with a couple of Dustin’s books in his hands. And right at the top of the stack, teetering just slightly off balance, is Will’s notebook looking slightly smashed, a little bent at the corners, and - opened to the very first page.

If it weren’t for the fact that his breath has gone too ragged and heavy to ignore, Will would swear his heart has stopped beating entirely in his chest. Mike catches Will’s eye without meaning to, face going pink beneath the smattering of freckles over his cheeks, and any hope Will has that Mike miraculously hasn’t seen the contents of that page flies right out the window.

He can feel the hot pricking of tears at the corners of his eyes as he marches forward to snatch the notebook from the top of the pile, immediately closing it with too much force. He can’t bring himself to look at Mike’s face as he does it, keeping his head down until he turns back around and begins the return trip to the lunch room.

“What the hell?” Dustin calls out and Will doesn’t bother to look back at his friends.

“I need it back,” is all he says, voice coming out hard and tinged with just a bit of sorrow.

Dustin’s protests are quickly quieted by Lucas telling him he can just borrow his notes instead, and they let Will walk away without stopping him again.

It takes all of Will’s effort to ignore the crushing wave of humiliation that’s seized his body, especially when Mike wanders into their fifth period class and sits down right next to Will like he always does, like nothing’s different. Will can tell that Mike is looking at him, is probably waiting for Will to look his way so he can make sad, soft eyes at him and tell Will in the nicest possible way that pining after him is pathetic because he’ll never feel the same. In Will’s mind, there’s no good way for this situation to end, so he keeps his head turned the other direction, watching as students file in and fill up their seats.

A moment later, just before the bell rings to signify the start of their geometry lesson, Mike leans over toward Will’s desk with a pencil in hand, working quickly to scribble something in the corner of Will’s notebook before Will can ask what’s happening or tell him to stop.

When he looks down at the page in front of him, Will sees a messy, slightly crooked heart sitting just in the top margin of the paper, Will’s name scrawled sloppily in the very middle of it. His breath stops in his throat, like suddenly his rib cage is pressed too tightly around his lungs.

Will spends the entire lesson distracted by the drawing at the top of the page, reaching up to touch it with disbelieving fingers, his pulse singing through his veins and something pleasant unfolding itself in his chest as he traces the lines until they’ve smudged against the skin of his fingers and marked him with their meaning.

Thin Mints and Menthol (Steve Harrington x Reader)

This is now a series!

PART 2   PART 3

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: It’s set a year after Season 2 has finished and you’re a senior in high school who’s often getting into trouble with the law for petty crimes. And Hopper usually gets you out of trouble. Then one night the new officer Steve Harrington joins him.

Words: 1.7k (YIKES)

Warnings: Mild swearing, mild mentions of smoking, hints towards abuse. Slightly OOC Steve

A/N: Okay so this is the first time I’ve ever written anything so please go easy on me, I just love Steve and I’ve had this idea in my head for a few days so I had to write it down.


You sit on the cold step outside the gas station. Mr Pritchard stood looming over you smugly, as the Chevrolet Blazer pulls up, ‘Hawkins Police Dept.’ printed on the side. Parking itself roughly. Chief Hopper steps out of the vehicle quickly reaching into his pocket to his packet of cigarettes, he removes one and places into his mouth. He walks over to you whilst sparking up. There’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. The passenger door suddenly opens, startling you, it was usually just Hopper himself who dealt with you.

Steve Harrington? That’s new. You chuckle slightly as he walks to join Hopper stood before you. He’s staring at you in confusion. You scoff and hang your head. “This is the third time this month you’ve been caught shoplifting (Y/N).” Hopper says as he blows smoke out of his mouth. “I’m starting to think you’re enjoying the excitement.” He chuckles.

“I’d raise my hands in defeat if this asshole,” you say jerking your head towards Mr Pritchard “hadn’t tied my arms in front of me with fucking rope.” Hopper glares at Pritchard, the old man crosses his arms in defiance to Hopper. He huffs slightly and begins to explain to Hopper that you had been trying to run away. Bullshit. Everyone knew you didn’t run once you were caught. As Hopper and him get into an argument you lean back and glance at Steve as he’s scribbling furiously in a notepad. The khaki coloured uniform he’s wearing looks freshly starched, his name tag shines under the glare of the street-lights. His hair is pushed back and looks neat, except for the strand that’s fallen out of place. It bounces in time with his writing.

“You, er, don’t need to do that”

“Huh?” He says stopping mid-word on the page. He stares at you confusedly.

“He never presses charges against me. I usually just get a two week ban.” You tell him, grinning. A small smile tugs at his lips. “That’s what you get for shoplifting a packet of Salem's’ I guess.”

Salem’s? Refreshing. Wouldn’t have pinned you for a menthol kind of girl” You both laugh. “Well, Hop- I mean, the Chief told me I should write everything down…” He says placing the pen in between the pages. He closes the notepad, holding it in his left hand. He stands awkwardly waiting slightly too close to Hopper. You’re shocked, since when did Steve Harrington want to be a cop? It was unusual to say the least, you always figured he’d end up at an Ivy League college. Yet here he was standing before you looking slightly uncomfortable. He’d been in the grade above you, and was ten times more popular than you were. The ‘King’. That was till Nancy Wheeler broke up with him, started dating the Byers kid, and he faded into obscurity. You’d still see him in passing but he’d mainly kept to himself focusing on his studies, always in the library. You’d heard rumors he was friends with some fourteen year olds, but you didn’t know him well enough to find out if they were true or not.

“Do want me to untie you?”

“What?” You ask as you realize you hadn’t been paying attention.

“The rope. Do you want me to untie it?” He asks again. You look at his hands. His notepad, you notice, is safely stowed away in his breast pocket.

“Oh, sure. Yeah, please. That would be great.” You say stuttering over your words slightly. You internally kicked yourself. You can’t believe you’re getting nervous over Steve fucking Harrington of all people. He bends down slightly, you’re inches apart, you can feel his breath on your cold hands as he reaches for them. You lift them up slightly from your lap. He starts to try and unknot the large knot that Pritchard had tied it with. He pauses and looks up at you, smirking. He lowers his voice.

“Now, you’re not going to dash the moment it’s unravelled are you?”

“On my honour.” You whisper. You smile at him.

“Oh, were you a Girl Scout.” He asks as he starts to work on untying you again.”

“Unwillingly, but yeah I was for about five years. Prettttttttttty sure, I sold you some Thin Mints once.” You told him struggling back a laugh.

“What, really? How old are you?” He moves his hands away from yours. You grin at him.

“I’m seventeen, but my birthdays in a week. I figured you wouldn’t recognize me.” He snickers quietly and slowly begins to tackle the knot again. You watch his hands move across the rope, grazing your wrists lightly, sending shivers up your arms.

“No I’m afraid I don’t think I’ve seen you around, I know I’d remember if I had someone like you before.” You look up at lock eyes with him. The rope around your wrists falls into your lap. Steve takes both your wrists in his hands and looks and the marks left on them. He rubs the rope burn with his left thumb. His brow furrowed, he opens his mouth as if to say something.

“Alright! I won’t press any further charges, just tell her that she needs to stay off of my property. For good this time, I’m giving her a permanent ban!” You both gaze up at the two men who had been having a heated debate about your actions.

“That seems fair. You hear that (Y/N)? You’re permanently banned from this gas station.” Hopper tells you whilst Steve helps you to your feet. “Permanent means no entry, and no sneaking in with a hat and sunglasses on like you did at the convenience store down street. Steve glances down at you with an amused look etched across his face. 

“You really did that?” He says questioning you.

“I thought it was a good idea at the time. I was very mistaken.” You tell him with a huff as you fold your arms, the temperature had dropped quite drastically. He leans his head back laughing, his hair moves like it has a mind of its own.You stare at him in awe. He is annoyingly pretty. You think to yourself. Boys like him shouldn’t be so pretty.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from joining him in his laughing fit. Instead you peer over at The Chief who’s not paying attention and is instead staring at his watch. He walks up to you and gently takes you by the arm and leads you towards the vehicle.

“We need to be leaving, its 9pm and I need to pick up El- I mean, Jane from Mike’s after dropping (Y/N) at her house.” He tells Steve who nods and makes his way over to the car, he gets in and you can see he’s still beaming. “See you later Fred.” Hopper says to Mr Pritchard as he opens the door for you.

“Bye Fred!” You say as Hopper pushes you into his car. Mr Pritchard walks into the gas station ignoring your exaggerated goodbye.The door slams behind him the car shaking slightly. He puts the keys into the ignition and sets off driving in the direction of your house. The mood in the car is some what hostile. You go to make a smart remark to relieve tension, but Hopper stops you.

“Whatever you’re about to say (Y/N), save it. This is your final warning. Like I said earlier this is the third time this month that someone’s stopped you shoplifting. I’m sure you’ve done it more you just haven’t been caught. I’m worried about you kid.” He gazes at you in the rear-view mirror, you turn away so you don’t make eye contact. “Next time I pick you up, you’re going to be in handcuffs. You understand?” You nod, there’s a prick behind your eye. Tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry… Sir.” The air is suddenly as icy as it is outside, despite the heating sputtering it’s warm breath around the car. You zone out and begin to stare outside, watching houses as they pass by. Wondering if their teenagers were as troublesome as you were. You’re startled as a tear falls onto your cheek, you quickly go to scrub your eyes. Uncaring if you smudge the eye make-up you have on. You didn’t want to let Hopper down, he’d looked out for you each time there had been an incident. And yet you knew he was serious this time despite always telling you it was the final time he was clearing up after your messes. Somehow the presence of Steve made you embarrassed. Why do I even care? I don’t even know him. You think to yourself. And yet looking at the wing mirror and seeing him give you a reassuring smile was comforting, you return it sadly and turn to stare out the window again.

As the car drove up to your house the lump in your throat grew. It was fear. Fear of what was waiting for you at home. The lights were on meaning you were in for a rough ride. You sit forward as the car draws to a halt. Wincing as your hand touches the cool metal of the handle.

“Tell your old man to go easy on you.” Hopper says to you. Without turning to face him you open the door getting out.

“Thanks for the ride boys.” You say plastering a fake smile across your lips as you slam the door shut. The grin instantly drops from you face as you make your way up to you red front door. You can feel both Jim and Steve’s eyes watching you.

“Do you think you could get me any of those Thin Mints? I’ve got a real craving!” You hear Steve shout to you. Turning to face him, he’s beaming from ear to ear. You start laughing, you flash him the middle finger and give him a sarcastic smile as you close the door. Blocking you off from the world. You place your hands on the door and lift your eye to the peep hole to watch as Hopper’s car rolls out of sight. You sigh as you hear angry footsteps approach you. Grabbing at your arm, pulling it from the door.

“And where the fuck have you been?”


Part 2?????

Ouija - (H/M)

A/N; SOOOOOOO
This turned out A LOT longer than @dont-run-up and I first intended, but hopefully, everyone enjoys! Leave some comments letting us know what you thought of Incubus!Yoongi~~

Genre; Horror with that good S M UT 

Length; long af- 9,800+ words

Kink(s); A sprinkle of Master/Pet, impact play, oral (giving and receiving), creampie, light bondage, etc.

Originally posted by taes-nose-mole

12:00 a.m.
The time blared on your friend, Hee Young’s, phone screen. “Come on Y/n,” She jeered, keeping that eager grin and puppy-dog look in her eyes as she gently grasped your biceps, swaying you from side to side. “I wanna play! It’s just a game-” She added, pointing towards the newly purchased Ouija board that sat on your coffee table. Just the sight of it rushed a wave of uneasiness over you.

Shaking your head, your brows furrowed slightly, “I don’t know-” You replied, as anxiety laced your words. “My grandma always told me to steer clear of them, they could allow things into your home and life.”

“Oh my gosh, you don’t really believe all that nonsense, do you?” She asked, giggling through her words while she began to open the board’s box. Unlike you, she was a full-blown skeptic; she wasn’t a believer in anything paranormal, so Ouija was just a game to her and nothing more than that.

God did you wish you could dismiss it the way she could.
Though you had never personally experienced anything ghost-wise, you knew plenty of people that had. “Ahh I do, but..” You began, sighing as you decided to give in despite your better judgment, “But I guess we can play, just for a little, at least.”

Heeyoung excitedly clapped while smiling like a dork as she lifted the onyx and pearl colored board and planchette out. “Don’t worry,” She sweetly said, recognizing the nervous expression that painted your face as she placed it onto the glass. “It’s just a game.”

Keep reading

You’re MY Girl Pt.1

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Request from @jyttoaudios: I was wondering if u could make a smut where you and tom are friends with benefits and he gets all sensitive over the fact that your starting to see someone and it leads to to a lil angst and a lil sum sum us know what I’m saying hmmmmm

A/N: hopefully you enjoy Pt.1 xx- Mikayla


[Reader’s POV]


    Rolling over you get out of the bed quietly. Picking up your phone and unplugging it off the charger. Bending down you pick up a shirt slipping the article of clothing on. Looking back at the bed, your longing gaze breaking as you exit the bedroom. Your feet padded against the flooring slightly as you headed towards the stairs. Memories of last night flashed through your head sending a throbbing sensation down to your core.


   Yawning and stretching your arms as you made it down each step slowly. Your body exhausted from the night before. Tessa’s tags jingled made you look over. She was standing on the couch now looking at you. A happy smile on her sweet face. Walking over you press a kiss to her head and rub her ears. Seeing a happy Tess when you woke up always made your day.


   Tessa jumps off the couch and follows you towards the kitchen. Clicking the power button on your phone to see it’s twelve thirty. Turning on the coffee pot you lean against the counter. Your hip slightly digging into the counter which you regretted quickly. A twinge of pain makes you stop leaning against the counter and lift your shirt up.


   Your skin was tinted purple with long bruises from where Tom’s fingers were last night. The skin sensitive and dark in some areas. A loud sound comes from the coffee machine indicating the coffee was ready. Moving your coffee mug you grasp the handle and pull it out of its home. Pouring the hot liquid in the cup your phone starts ringing loudly.


   Putting the coffee away you reach to grab your ringing phone. You were afraid the sound would rise upstairs and wake Tom. Almost dropping it out of quickly grabbing it you let out a sigh of relief when it doesn’t fall. Hitting the green button you raise the phone to your ear. A smile on your face after you saw who was calling.


“Good morning, you still on for today?” He asks as you reach for the dog food. Placing it on the counter you grab Tessa’s bowl.


“Yeah, I’m at a friends house so I’ll have to go home and get ready for tonight” Filling up the bowl you see her waiting by her water bowl. Tail wagging happily as she awaits her food. Setting it down you pat her head and she starts munching away.


“I bet you’ll look gorgeous no matter what” his voice was deep from him probably just waking up. He’s the one you’ve been calling when you couldn’t talk to Tom. It was hard just being friends with benefits with Tom. You wanted a relationship aspect.


“Oh stop it Leo, you’re such a charmer” you giggle taking a sip of your coffee. The caffeine rushing through your system to wake you up. The two of you had plans to meet at a coffee shop to just have a relaxing date. Coffee was perfect because you had to work on a term paper that night anyways. If you had tea you would want to wind down and procrastinate longer on your assignment.


“I can’t help it you’re absolutely stunning, I don’t know how anyone can pass you up” he chuckles making you smile. You couldn’t help but blush at what he says.



“Alright well I’ll see you soon okay?”



“Later love, see you soon” the line ends with a beep as you set your phone down on the counter. Tessa barks loudly making you turn around to see Tom walking over shirtless and in sweatpants. Your eyes traveling down his body admiring his abs.


“Good morning love, you’re up early” Tom grins sleepily walking towards you. Reaching up he runs his fingers through his tousled curls. His bicep flexing as he did that motion. Tom is irresistible with that body of his. Placing your mug by the sink it clinks against the countertop.


“I have plans today, I needed coffee to wake myself up even more” you explain as he gets closer to you. Backing you against the counter with nowhere to go. The feeling of your heart beating faster and faster started making you uneasy.


“I thought we were going to spend the day together since I’m back in town?” the warmth of his hand against your cheek was soothing. Leaning your face into the skin of his palm you let out a sigh.


“Well I made plans before you came back, I’ll be home for you tonight isn’t that fair enough?” it was unfair that you had to revolve your plans around him. You were the one always having to wait for him to come home. With this friends with benefits situation and adding that he’s a celebrity made it feel like a one way street.


“You always spend the time I’m here with me an-”


“I have to go get my stuff so I can leave” Brushing past Tom you head back towards the stairs. He smelled heavenly and you needed to leave as soon as you could. He was too damn tempting for your own good. That’s probably why you go back to him all the time. You just couldn’t stay away.


  Walking into Tom’s room you see your clothes littered across the floor. Your heels were on separate sides of the room. Not even remembering how they got there. Taking off Tom’s t-shirt you pick up your dress off of the floor. Slipping it on you then pick up both of your heels. Putting them you groan realizing this looks like a walk of shame.


   Rolling your eyes because of how it looks you grab your purse that was at the foot of the bed on the ground. Grabbing it you take a cursory glance of his room. Just to see if you left anything. Leaving the room you make your way down the stairs. Your heels clicked once they made contact with the wood flooring when you reached the bottom.


“Have fun on your date” Tom’s voice comes from around the corner. Turning the corner you see him holding your phone. The screen lighting up with notifications on the screen.


“You didn’t go through my phone did you?” snatching it out of his grasp you see Leo’s name on the messages. Your eyes scanning the messages quickly checking he didn’t say anything. You were pretty sure Tom didn’t know your password.


“That you two are meeting at our spot? No I didn’t go through your phone but I did answer it” your eyes widening at what he just said. He could have said something to Leo and you have no clue what it could have been.


“Fuck you Holland..” you grit pushing him away from you. His bare chest firm under your palm.


“Well you did last night.. Might I add you weren’t complaining either” his cocky smirk plastered on his face. You wanted to slap it off so hard, your hand was trembling by your side.


“I can’t believe you’re acting like this.. It’s like you’re envious Tom” the tone that voice had was flat as you glared at him. He rolled his eyes crossing his arms, biceps bulging when he did that.

“I’m am not.. Who is this guy anyways?”


“I don’t have to tell you anything Tom.. I’ll see you tonight” taking your car keys off the hook you leave his house. Closing the door a little harder than normal you take a deep breath. Making your way across the street you walk down the sidewalk towards your car.


   Pulling your glasses out you put them on. Unlocking your car you get in and take off towards your home. Your phone was ringing but you just ignored it. At the moment you didn’t want to talk to anyone because of how frustrated Tom made you feel. All the time it was an array of emotions.


“I can’t believe he answered the goddamn phone” you mutter to yourself as you turn the corner and proceed down the road. Your phones loud ringing makes you emit an annoyed growl. Reaching over you pick up your phone off of the seat.


“What is it Tom, I’m not going back to your house for a -”


“Uh love.. It’s Leo is everything okay? So you really were at a guys house?” his question making your heart drop. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.


“I just crashed at his place is all, I got too drunk to drive home” you lie gritting your teeth after cause lying was the thing you hated the most.


“I’ll see you at the coffee shop later, just wanted to check on you after what he sa-”


“What did he say?” the sound of your voice rose a bit from your nerves. You hated every second of what’s happening at the moment.


“That you stayed the night with him in his bed”


“Of course he would say that” you huff out resting your phone on your shoulder as your cheek was pressed against your phone. The position keeping it in place as you made your way home. You normally had to drive around for a while before going home. Paparazzi loved to follow you around and it was fucking obnoxious. Sadly that’s what you get for being in any proximity of Tom.


“I’m sorry what he said Leo, we just go way back and Tom’s a little asshole alright?” quoting Mackie as you get out of your car once it’s in park. Leo says his goodbyes before you hang up the phone holding it in your left hand.The gravel next to your driveway crunched under your heels as you walked towards your front door. Fishing out your keys from your purse you put the key in the lock.


   Turning the key you twist the handle opening the door. It creaked as the door moved with you walking inside. The heater doing it’s job welcoming you into warmth. Today was a chilly day in London and you were glad your heater wasn’t broken. It had a tendency to break when you desperately needed it the most.


    Your dog comes walking up to you with a happy bark. Kneeling down you ruffle her ears. Her spotted tongue sticking out from the side of her mouth. Pressing a kiss to her head you stand up and walk to the kitchen. Pictures of you and Tom from when you first became friends were around your house. Especially the ones of the events you went to. Along with your family you had photos with Tom’s family.


    Picking up Kayley’s water bowl you hold it under the sink as you fill it up. Her tags jingle making you look over. She was jumping up and down, her long tail wagging in excitement. She was a year older than Tessa but bigger due to being a Rottweiler mix Lab. The two of them were best buds whenever you would have Tessa over to watch her if Nikki couldn’t.


“C’mon love let’s go to the closet and pick out an outfit for tonight yeah?” after you set her bowl down she follows you upstairs. Kayley of course made it up the stairs first as always. She sat at the top waiting for you to make it up the stairs.




   The lighting of the coffee shop was dim thankfully. Your migraine had grown over the span of time that you were home. Tom was trying to lure you back to his place. All he wanted was a hookup and today you just wanted to be with Leo. Locking your door you one more time you turn and head towards the doorway.


   Opening the door you head inside the cozy warm building. Shrugging off your coat and slinging it over your arm. Looking around your eyes scan the room for Leo. His dark hair was the first thing you saw. Leo’s eyes met yours and a smile raising to his face. His smile infectious as one rose to your face. He truly is a handsome man with his ocean blue eyes. Those eyes that made you feel as if you were drifting out to see the longer you looked into them.


“Hey love, can you believe the weather outside?” his accent thicker in person than on the phone. Setting your coat down on the chair at your table you give him a peck on the cheek.


“I’m honestly glad I brought a jacket” realizing it’s a jacket Tom bought you instantly making you mentally face palm yourself. The barista keeps looking over at you making you uncomfortable. She knew you came here with Tom often.


   As time went by the more and more you found out about Leo. Sure you two have been talking for two months but now you seemed to find out even more. He told you about the adventures he went on when he traveled last summer. That was one of your favorite things, traveling. You wish you could’ve traveled with Tom but his manager didn’t want people getting the wrong Idea.


   Which made it harder for you because you fell for Tom. Feelings took over and destroyed your thoughts on being friends with benefits. You never truly knew how Tom felt about you so you just kept letting that arrangement continue. The longer Tom was away the more you felt alone. That’s a big reason why you started trying to find someone. When you finally met Leo you thought things could change. After today you knew it was going to end badly.


“Now what was it that you really wanted to talk about, you said you needed to be honest with me about something” Leo hands you your coffee that he ordered for you. Earlier you sent him a text of what you wanted.


“I wanted to explain more about earlier and why I was really at Tom’s house”sweat started to form on your palms. Nerves were kicking in on how you were going to explain this. Praying to God he would understand everything.


“So you took him to our place and in our spot?” the familiar voice making you freeze in your spot. Your eyes wide seeing Leo’s facial expression turn into confusion. Looking back you see Tom in a black coat and his curls slightly messy from the wind. His fingers run through them smoothing down a bit.


“What do you mean by our?” Leo questions raising an eyebrow looking between the two of you. Before you could say anything Tom has a smirk on his face. That damn fucking smirk.


“As in her and I come here, this is our spot and you coincidently choose our spot before she came here?”


“Tom stop it now, go home I said I’d see you later and now is not later” you huff standing up so you’re now looking up at him. Some people looked over and some had their phones out. The last thing Tom needed was drama being started.


“So this is the famous Tom Holland” Leo says bluntly standing up from his seat. You looked over at him questioningly because you never mentioned Tom’s last name.


“Yeah I am.. Oh darling.. You forgot these in my bed last night” Tom reaches into his pocket pulling out your red lace thong. A gasp leaves your mouth as you snatch them out of his hand. Reaching for your purse you put them in there. Your cheeks were flaming from embarrassment.


“Is that what you wanted to tell me about? That you’re sleeping with him?” Leo’s tone was flat as he looked down at you. His figure was a bit taller than Tom’s so you felt like he was towering over you.


“Are you mad she was calling my name out last night and not yours?” Tom sounded so smug as he brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek. Tom’s lips press against yours in a quick kiss. Your hands naturally going to his face , his jawline against your palm. Tom pulls away from the kiss , his fingers still holding your chin. Looking over you see Leo looking pissed off at the two of you.


“ Why you lil-” Leo lunges at Tom making your fight or flight instincts kick in. The name that comes out of your lips surprises you. Stepping in front of Tom, Leo’s fist ends up hitting you instead. A whimper of pain escaping your lips as Tom pulls you into his arms.


“I-I’m so sorry” Leo looks panicked as he sees you rubbing the sore spot on your shoulder. Tom’s arm rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. All that was happening you were shaking like a chihuahua.


“Ever come near her again and you won’t like what I will do, got it?” Tom grits out at Leo, his body tense as you leaned against him.


“If I would have known you were whoring around with him I would have never considered dating y-”


“Get the fuck out of here before I beat the fuck out of you for hitting my girl” his voice lashed out at Leo making the coffee shop go silent. Leo mumbled something before taking off towards the entrance.


    Looking around there were people with their phones out. The barista comes over telling people to please put their phones away. She sticks her arms out standing in the way blocking people. Tom’s finger lifted your chin so you’d look up at him. His eyes looked concerned as he gazed down at you. A bit of your heart shattered as you looked at him. Your chance of a normal relationship just went out the door.


“C’mon darling, let’s go home.. We need to talk about things”


@martymarmine13 @pleasantdreamqueen @goldenchemistry @lovelyttom @thelifeofanengineeringstudent @haileyyy0604 @glittermysoulhidesbehind @curly-haired-holland @mossyfeet @kaylaleslie1120 @bxndsaf @krystalsawallflowerr @everything-tholland @crimson-vodka @boringrayofsunshine @bruhjustdont @woahayana @isabellyduh @rlupin-moony @aurelialemarier @donttellpeterparker @xcrawlerwood @ever-since-only-angel  @mendes-holland @abbytaco15 @muffinfangirl28 @spider-junkie @mikalaka @amyyleblanc1999  @emmaduval2000 @jayzayy @tomblrholland @aliedelanie @hollandstanleythomas @allenviedthoughts @theonlyonelives @hoodgirlxoxo @sincerelylisalynn @enoumen-t @lunalife101 @ladyteacups @lovemalikstyles @pitubea1910 @ladyteacups @cameotri @skebbles @mcheung0314 @scm435 @the-hot-fangirl @fwmholland @multifandom-hoellander @tomhollabackk @bellemudder21 @alecxisantisocial @marvelstrashcan @sunshinekittxn @bi-holland @purple-storms-blog @dumb-and-dumber- @i-love-superhero @tomstanleydutch @potterhead1265

(Some names when I click on them won’t let me tag for some reason 😔)

smut for pt. 2 

Originally posted by dynode

#pining #sketches #quidditch

Prompts: @antique-moonglade
Author: @queenofthyme

Draco calmly set about mixing his paints. He’d perfected a particular shade of green only the day prior, and he wanted to get it exact. He had plenty of time to get it right before he needed to begin sketching. Quidditch practice didn’t start for another twenty minutes or so.

He’d set up his canvas quite a distance from the pitch so that the players wouldn’t see him.  Of course, that also meant he couldn’t see them that well either so, as always, he’d brought his binoculars to get the best view of his intended subject - it was a bit of a hassle using them and painting at the same time but it was better than the alternative - being caught.

Not even Pansy knew he was out here. Not for lack of trying of course. She’d even taken to following him in the mornings but Draco was careful. This morning he’d led her on a goose chase around the castle before finally giving her the slip and heading outside.

It was surprisingly warm for so early in the morning, the harsh glares of the sun already in full force. Draco had created a shade for himself - magically stretching out the branches of a nearby tree to shield his pale skin from the sun. But the players wouldn’t be so lucky. He could just imagine the sweat rolling down a particular player’s skin. It would make for a great painting if he could capture it correctly.

The green paint turned out exactly as he wanted it, a perfect replica of its inspiration, Draco thought. He set it aside, eager for the chance to use it later. Since he had time to kill, he figured he may as well get a start on the background, so he began lightly sketching in the lines of the Quidditch pitch and the surrounding stadiums with a thin pencil. He’d just started drawing the hoops at the far side of the pitch when a voice pulled him out of focus.

“Malfoy?”

The second hoop became oblong. He knew that voice.

“Potter,” he greeted automatically, his voice cold - a reflex.  He turned around quickly, his pencil falling into the grass.

Potter was squinting at Draco’s sketch, using his broomstick, firmly planted in the ground, to keep balance as he leaned forward. Despite only heading for a practice he was dressed in his full scarlet Gryffindor Quidditch uniform, complete with a protective chest plate handing loosely from his shoulders, waiting to be strapped on properly. Draco resisted the urge to fix it himself.

“You draw?”

A snarky What’s it you? on Draco’s lips was swallowed when Potter continued without waiting for an answer.

“Just the pitch? Or the players too?”

Panic filled Draco’s body settling itself as a niggling discomfort in his gut. “Just the pitch,” he said quickly, his eagerness to lie making him forget his desire to be contrary. Instead, his voice just came out rushed and squeaky. Lucky there were no witnesses otherwise his tough reputation would have been well and truly demolished, all by a couple of unextraordinary words from Harry Potter.

“Shame,” Potter said, standing up straight and lifting his broom. “Would you consider it? I’ve always wanted to be painted.”

Draco nodded against his will - what? Potter’s confidence was rather disconcerting. It clearly had the power to turn him into a squirming mess as well as a pathetic follower eager to please all at once.

Potter’s face lit up with a surprised smile - he obviously hadn’t expected Draco to be so agreeable - neither had Draco. “In that case, make sure you capture me from the left. It’s my good side.”

“Every side is your bloody good side,” Draco muttered to himself without thinking. Crap. There’s no way Potter hadn’t heard THAT embarrassing revelation. 

But Potter didn’t say anything further. He simply winked at Draco with those devilishly charming eyes (that made Draco’s knees go weak) before mounting his broom and flying off towards the pitch, his shape growing smaller and smaller until he was just a speck in the distance.

As soon as he could wrench his eyes away from Potter, Draco turned his focus to the shade of green paint he had created. He’d have to start again from scratch. It was nowhere close to the real thing.

Now that he had Potter’s blessing, more or less, he had to make everything perfect. After all, Potter would want to see the finished product. And Draco already knew that once he did, Potter would know exactly how Draco felt about him. How could he not when Draco channelled all of his emotions into his paintings? When every stroke of his brush that coloured Potter’s face was a gentle caress? It would be obvious to anyone.

Draco resigned himself to that fact and focused all his energy into the painting. If Potter liked it, Draco might just show him all the other finished canvases locked away in his dormitory too. It was about time someone else saw Draco’s work. And who better than Draco Malfoy’s muse, Harry Potter?


Draco was right of course. Potter returned immediately after practice, flushed and sweaty, expecting results. Draco didn’t have much to show yet - he’d spent most of his time working on mixing the right shades of green. But at the same time, he was almost certainly showing too much. Potter stared at the canvas for far too long.

Draco had started with Potter’s eyes and hadn’t got much further. Sketching over them again and again to get the precise shape, the precise look of concentration as Potter scanned the pitch for the snitch. And then came the colouring. What he had gotten wrong originally was trying to find the one right shade of green for Potter’s eyes, because there wasn’t one. There were a number of shades all swimming amongst each other. Vibrant. Ever changing. Alive. 

Draco thought he’d captured those eyes rather well in the end, but when Potter turned and his real eyes fixed themselves on Draco, all liveliness and wonder, Draco realised he’d never be able to do them justice. Potter’s eyes didn’t belong on paper. But Draco was starting to think, from the way Potter was blushing as he stared, that maybe, just maybe, Potter’s eyes belonged on Draco.

more like this l @queenofthyme

The Ink of My Heart

Summary: Prompt 51 for @rotisserierogers ‘s writing challenge: A tattoo artist gives clients tattoos that determine their fate 

Pairing: Tattoo Artist/Alchemist!Bucky x Reader 

Word Count: 2824 Words

Warnings: Fluff, angst in the form of physical pain and being scared

Notes: This is pretty cute, but I’m so sleepy that I dunno anymore ahaha, sorry this is late Kumi!

Permanent Tags are OPEN | masterlist

Originally posted by winter-barnes

“Nattie, I’m fucking terrified. Is this even legal?” You’re gripping her hand so tight that you’re sure that you’re crushing her bones.

She gives you a withering look, before pulling up her sleeve. “It works, every time, guaranteed. Look at mine. Perfectly passive, and it’s gotten me my dream job and boyfriend.”

Your eyes linger over the highly detailed tattoo on her bicep, before looking back up at her. “You sure that this guy won’t use his…tattoo powers to murder me?”

She snorts, leaning against the brick wall. “He’s not allowed to do that, he doesn’t know what he’s casting but they can’t involve death or illness. Well…maybe illness, but there’ll be a good outcome. He sort of has a selection of objects, and you choose them, and they’re meant to influence your tattoo’s meaning. People don’t know what they’re getting, but in the end, it’ll be something that they’ve wanted for a while.”

“Do you know how sketchy that sounds?” You cross your arms, heart running wild with panic and oh shit this is a horrible idea isn’t it-

“Shut up, you’ll be fine,” Nat snatches your hand and marches you towards the door of the building, “you can’t miss your designated appointment, he stores his magic up for each client.”

“So what is he? A wizard? Like, from Harry Potter?” The bell tinkles as you enter the waiting room area. You take a brief look around, taking in the modern interior, with succulents on benches and plant pots dangling from the ceilings. There’s nothing ‘magic’ to this, what with fluffy blankets on the arms of the sofas, and industrial light bulbs casting a glow over the room.

“I’d prefer the word ‘alchemist,’ but you can call me a wizard if you want.” A voice says behind you, and you shriek, whipping around instantly.

Keep reading

English Assignment

Request: Can you do a imagine where the reader is a huge nerd and she’s Billy’s partner on a English project and well the both of them are at his place working she goes to his out to his car to grab a book she left in the backseat, passing his drunk dad on his way out of the house, and comes back to his room to see him crying and she knows because she’s been there (abused) and its just fluff of her comforting him and he wraps his arms around her frame holding on desperately and into cries her chest

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, Billy’s asshole dad

Word Count: 1291

A/N: If anyone ever needs to talk please feel free to message me about anything. Thank you for the request. I have quite a few lined up to write over the next few days. Requests are open.

Prompt List

Masterlist

Originally posted by xananeedscoffee

English Literature was possibly Y/N’s favourite subject. She loved to read and write and was enthralled by the words which flowed on the page. Currently they were study Robert Louis Stevenson’s: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. While it wasn’t one of her favourite books, Y/N loved the writing style and the narrative. Most of the class would disagree with her and would often call it boring or stupid. The only part of English that Y/N hated were the paired assignments. Teachers had a habit of pairing high achieving students with the kids who needed their grade to be pulled up somehow. While most of these kids were actually far from being dumb, they just lacked the motivation.

“Y/N L/N, you will be paired with Billy Hargrove.” The teacher read out and Y/N sighed.

She had never actually spoken to the newish boy but had heard all the gossip about him around school. A few girls at the back let out annoyed sighs as the teacher finished reading from the list and people began to get up to leave. Y/N took her time packing away; she was in no hurry to get to lunch.

“Hey.” Y/N looked up to find the source of the voice was her new English partner.

“Hey.” She replied as she finished packing away her books.

“I was wondering when you wanted to work on the project?” Billy asked with a small smile as he followed her out of the classroom. His voice was softer than the times she had heard him talking.

“Whenever is fine for you.” Y/N said with a small smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“You free tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, meet me outside after school and we can go to my place.” He smiled at her before walking off to meet his friends.

When the bell signalled the end of the day Y/N began to get really nervous. She packed up her biology books as quickly as she could and then made her way outside. Billy was already leaning up against the side of his Camaro with a cigarette between his lips. He dropped it, crushed it under the heel of his shoe and smiled as he saw her.

“Hey.” Y/N said as she walked over to him.

“Hey.” He smiled wider as he opened the door for her. She climbed in and he shut it for her. That was when Y/N noticed the younger redhead sat in the back.

“You must be Billy’s sister, I’m Y/N.”

“Step-sister. I’m Max.” The girl smiled. Billy climbed into the car and set off. “So, are you two…?” Max trailed off.

“Working on an English assignment.” Billy quickly shot back as Y/N started blushing. He shot a look over at her and smiled slightly as he put the radio on.

The rest of the drive was silent and they quickly reached the house. Y/N climbed out of the car and held the seat down for Max to climb out. The girl thanked her before quickly running inside the house. Y/N grabbed her backpack. She followed Billy up to the house and thanked him as he held the door open.

He showed her to his room. “You want anything to eat or drink?”

“Water please.” She smiled.

He left to get it and she surveyed his room. It was messy but not as much as she would have expected. There was a full ash tray on one of his sides and cologne and hair products on another. She perched herself on the edge of the bed before pulling out the assignment and her copy of Jekyll and Hyde.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” Billy said handing her the water as he came back into the room. The front door opened and then slammed shut and Y/N looked at him questionably. “It’s just my dad.”

They quickly set off working and Y/N was surprised with how much Billy actually contributed. They were making good progress but also talking about themselves in between. It actually turned out that the pair had quite a lot in common. Mainly their movie and music taste but they were becoming quick friends.

“Shit.” Y/N muttered looking through her bag.

“What?” Billy asked looking up at her from his position laying on the bed.

“I think my folder might have fallen out in your car.” Y/N explained.

“Here.” Billy smiled and threw her his keys. “Go look, I’ll finish this bit.”

She smiled back at him before quickly leaving to go to the car. She didn’t notice Billy’s dad sat in the living room as she walked past. The man quickly got to his feet and stumbled into his son’s room.

“You bringing your whores here now?” Neil Hargrove asked as his son shot of the bed.

“We’re doing an English assignment, sir.” Billy said.

In a flash Billy was pinned against his shelves; his father’s hands on his denim jackets sides. “You think I’m stupid.”

“Of course not.” Billy said before a fist connected with his cheek.

“Of course not, what?” Neil spat.

“Sir.” Billy muttered.

“That’s better.” Neil said before dropping Billy to the floor. Billy curled into himself.

Y/N passed Neil Hargrove in the hall and muttered a quick greeting that the man didn’t return. She walked into Billy’s room and dropped her folder to the floor as she saw Billy on the floor.

“Billy?” She muttered in shock.

“Shut the door and lock it.” Billy chocked out.

She did as he said before kneeling down in front of him on the floor. “Did… Did your dad…?” She stumbled over her words as she looked at the boy she had been laughing with minutes before, now crumbling on the floor.

Billy merely nodded. Like always the tears were beginning to run down his cheeks. Y/N moved closer to him and reached out her arms. He folded into her and buried his head in her chest; both his arms wrapped around her waist. She slid one arm around his back and threaded the other through his hair. She could feel his tears starting to dampen her shirt. She lost track of just how long they sat on the floor before he pulled away shakily.

“You should tell someone.” Y/N whispered.

“Like who? Who would actually care?” Billy chuckled humorously and brokenly.

“I would.” She murmured and his eyes shot up to meet hers. “You could tell Hopper.”

“I couldn’t.” He muttered before standing up and pulling her up with him. He started grabbing everything they had been using. “Let’s go someplace else.” He wiped a hand over his face as she helped him start to pick up books.

At the beginning of today, Billy Hargrove had been a stranger. Now she was determined to help him out of this living hell. 

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 9/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Intimate make-out session, hickeys, parental abuse, angst

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait- if not then i’d be so disappointed sksk but hey ho, here’s an extra long chapter!

PART 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

Eddie continued to tend Richie’s wounds throughout the night, with the windows steaming up from the heat inside the room in contrast to the freezing air outside. After Richie’s warming words, Eddie barely formed words for an hour or so and solely focused upon fixing Richie up despite Richie’s protests to his cuts stinging and how he was being covered in superman bandages, but Eddie just rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the boy and his ways.

Richie had his head against the wall as he sat on the perfectly white carpet beneath him, he stared directly at his fingertips with a warm feeling in his stomach.

“So, you’re staying here, right?” Eddie asked, his legs folded upon his neat bed after cleaning away the first aid kit.

Richie drifted his gaze to Eddie, “I don’t have too, I just had no where to go.”

“You can stay!” Eddie quickly spoke, his words overflowing, “It’s just that I was wondering and, well, my Mom would flip shit if she saw you- so.. so I’ll have to hide you. We also only have my Dad’s old clothes, my clothes won’t fit.”

Richie managed to form a lop sided grin, listening to each melodic sound that came from Eddie Kaspbrak. Everything about the boy was phenomenal, overall outstanding. From his neat hair, to his messy mindset. From his soft brown eyes, to the crevice of his lips. Richie was in awe of what standards this boy had to even look in Richie Tozier’s way, never mind welcome him with open arms into his living space.

Keep reading

Bruise [ Epilogue ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 2.4k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Bruise Masterlist

Originally posted by beautyeol

 The heat was singeing the back of his neck as he stared at the book in his lap, fingers dragging a pen lazily along the blank surface. The paper was dotted with small dark circles from the drips slipping from his once wet hair, making the ink blown out and faded like a dying firework. Her fingers combed through his locks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as the blow dryer jostled side to side, tickling his cheekbones. He’d always loved her hands, loved to trace the lines carved into her palms and to feel her fingers laced through his. He loved to feel them skimming along his back when he woke up naked beside her. He loved to hold them when she was trying to cook, even if she insisted it was annoying. But most of all he loved the body they were connected to.

Chanyeol loved her.

Keep reading

Kiwi

Originally posted by fearless-man

Inspired by Harry Styles’ song ‘Kiwi’. Just an one shot without any connections to other stories I’ve written. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut

She’s driving me crazy, but I’m into it, but I’m into it
I’m kinda into it
It’s getting crazy, I think I’m losing it, I think I’m losing it

Keep reading

Call Me Mistress – Ramen (M) (Part 3)

Summary: The Mistress has her first session with Ramen, her newest client.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 12,176

Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Domme!Reader, BDSM, femdom, sexual themes, nipple play, masturbation, teasing, edging, overstimulation, sex toys, profanity

Series: Call Me Mistress

A/N: If you thought Part 2 was something…Enjoy, dears!

Client List: Prologue | River (Namjoon) | Ramen (Jungkook): Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 | (more forthcoming)

Keep reading

#giggles #sweaters #kissing

Prompts: @sighmalfoy
Author: @queenofthyme

Harry wasn’t scheduled to be back from his overseas Auror operation for another day. He’d been planning to owl ahead but then decided to surprise his husband instead. Harry had been working so much, they’d hardly seen each other since Christmas. Harry often debated whether he should just retire and spend every waking moment with Draco. He loved his work too. Just not as much.

He entered the house quietly, determined to catch Draco by surprise just this once - he always seemed to know Harry’s move even before Harry did. Harry tiptoed past the living room, heading for the bedroom - it was late and Harry figured Draco would be in the middle of his nightly read before bed - but a flicker of light caught his eye.

Their fireplace was alight but not just with orange flame, a myriad of blues and pinks and greens and purples intertwined and wove themselves through the fire, a careful dance of light and colour. Harry’s eyes lowered to take in Draco, sitting before the fireplace, his wand rising and falling in time with the patterns of the fire.

Harry’s mouth fell open on its own. But it wasn’t the fire show that surprised him. He had seen it at Draco’s hand a million times before - each time as unique as the last. No, it was what Draco was wearing: a scarlet hand-knitted sweater. And Harry didn’t need Draco to turn around to know there was a big golden ‘D” knitted into the front.

“Honey, I’m home,” Harry called out softly, his voice teasing - Draco didn’t like to play domestic.

Draco was on his feet and twirling around in an instant, his wand pointed at Harry, the flames faltering sadly behind him. Perhaps surprising Draco when he was armed hadn’t been Harry’s wisest move.

Harry rose his arms in a mock surrender. “Surprise?”

Draco’s wand fell to the floor and he ran the small distance across the room to Harry, enveloping him in an impressively warm hug. Harry’s face was still cold from the icy wind outside and he gladly pressed it up against Draco’s chest - he’d been right about the D on the sweater.

“Harry.” Draco said Harry’s name, more breath than vocal chords, holding him tighter still. Harry knew exactly how he felt.

Harry lifted his head from Draco’s chest, gripped Draco’s hips for support and pushed himself up on his toes to gain the height required to play tongue-hockey with his husband. But he didn’t get further than a small peck before Draco was pulling away, giggling.

“Your lips are freezing,” he complained, holding Harry back by the shoulders.

“Maybe you can warm them up?” Harry suggested with a not-so-subtle raise of his eyebrows, leaning up again.

This time Draco let him, their lips meeting together in a clash of fire and ice. Draco’s lips were warm and soft, capturing Harry in a comforting familiarity. Draco. Husband. Home. Harry knew his own lips wouldn’t feel quite the same to Draco - the coldness had to be bracing. But after his initial complaint, Draco made no further comments, falling easily into a pattern they both knew.

Harry let his hands drop and sneak up beneath the hem of Draco’s sweater and up past his undershirt to land on the bare skin of Draco’s torso.

Draco jerked back immediately, giggling again. “Your hands!” He shouted. “They’re so cold!”

“Oh no, are they?” Harry asked, feigning innocence, and reaching for Draco again.

Draco darted backwards, quickly jumping behind the couch to keep his distance from Harry. “Can’t we just have a mature, romantic, calm reunion for once?” Draco pleaded, but he couldn’t quite keep the giggles at bay as Harry chased him around the couch, occasionally changing direction to catch Draco off guard - not that Harry could of course. At least not without Draco’s permission.

And sure enough, when they both started to pant - they weren’t as young as they used to be - Draco slowed down and let Harry catch him, pulling him onto the couch, or perhaps collapsing and rolling onto the couch. Either way, Harry ended up lying on top of Draco, hands sneaking back up his sweater again.

Except Harry didn’t quite get the reaction he was hoping for. Not that he minded Draco pushing up into his touch - not at all! - but he did love hearing that adorable giggle.

“They’re not cold anymore,” Draco said, smugly.

Harry pulled his hands out, and pretended to start getting up. “Well, if I’m already warmed up, I guess there’s no point - “

Draco held onto Harry tightly, pulling him back down. “Maybe I’m cold.”

Harry laughed at Draco’s pouting face. “Is that why you’re wearing the sweater you told me you’d never be caught dead in? The one you suggested we use as a foot towel?”

For a second, it looked as if Draco might be planning an excuse - but what could he say? He’d been caught out for the sentimental sap he really was - beneath his sometimes cool exterior. And it’s not like Harry didn’t know - it was the reason he fell in love with him after all.

Instead, Draco stared back at Harry, accepting the challenge, and responded with a simple, “Yes. I was cold.”

“You’re going to get one every year now, you know?” Harry said - both teasingly and fondly - it was often that way with Draco. “You’re part of the family.”

“I’m not a Weasley,” Draco responded drily, but the the corners of his mouth betrayed him - just like they had when Molly had gifted the sweater to him weeks ago. The barest hint of a smile that Harry knew very well. 

“No, of course not, “ Harry retorted. “You’re a Potter.” 

Draco rolled his eyes at that, but at the same time his lips grew wide into a fully fledged smile, a million times brighter than any fire. 

Harry felt himself imitating the smile on his own face. He settled his head down onto Draco’s chest, wrapping his arms around his husband. How wonderful it felt to finally be warm again. 

more like this l @queenofthyme

You Don’t Have To (but i do)

Happy birthday to the lovely and talented @bleep0bleep! I hope you had a wonderful day, darling!

*****

The room was silent except for the muted sounds of the storm outside, the steady drum of rain hitting the oversized windows and the thunder rolling ever closer a pale echo of Stiles’ own pulse; his heart was hammering in his chest so loudly that he could hardly hear the speech he was trying to rehearse in his head.


Derek watched him cautiously, expectant but wary from the other end of the worn couch, body turned toward Stiles and a readiness in his posture that meant he was preparing to leap into action if the need were to arise. “You- you said there was something you wanted to tell me? Are you sure that’s all, Stiles? Is something wrong?”


Derek sounds worried, and Stiles wants to rush to reassure him, but the words are stuck behind the ones that have been swirling in his head for what feels like forever. He manages to reach a hand out and rest it on Derek’s wrist where it’s perched on his knee. It isn’t until Derek brings his other hand to clasp over Stiles’ that Stiles realizes his grip is more of a clutch than a comfort. He can’t loosen his fingers though, even with the way Derek’s thumb starts to rub soothingly over the back of Stiles’ knuckles.


“Stiles?”


It’s the softness of Derek’s voice that gets him, the way his name sounds like a plea when said so quietly in the small space between them. Though really, it’s Derek. It’s always just Derek that brings Stiles running, that brings him back to himself, that pushes him to keep going, be better. It’s Derek and his way of making Stiles want to have more, to be more, that brought Stiles to his door at nearly midnight on a night with the promise of heavy rains.


It’s Derek’s warmth and his once surprising but now accustomed sincerity that made Stiles’ fall in love with him, and it’s those things that finally have the tension in his body melting away enough that he can take a deep breath and begin.


“I was sitting in the diner, and the waitress was being flirted with by this over-eager kid, and she was so obviously irritated, y'know? She was pouring coffee angrily! It was actually impressive, but… Her whole face just screamed ‘I’m annoyed and it’s gross to hit on people at their job’, but she had to be polite, because she’s at work, but she had these eyebrows that could put yours to shame for their vocabulary, and the kid was all hyper energy and elbows,” Derek’s eyebrows are eloquent enough to convey his confusion, but he’s listening intently regardless of how little sense Stiles is making. His patience with Stiles’ rambling has grown to admirable proportions in the years they’ve been friends, it may be another reason Stiles loves him.


“I was watching them, and I thought ‘I almost miss that’ but that’s a lie! I don’t miss that at all! I don’t miss you looking like you’d rather claw your own eyes out than ask me for the time of day, or me being so nervous around you that all I could do was run my mouth. I don’t miss us being barely tolerant acquaintances, I wouldn’t change our friendship for anything. But I needed to tell you before another day ended, I don’t know why, but watching them, I had to tell you right away, that I am stupidly, totally in love with you, and I don’t think I can stop. I don’t want to lose you, I would literally rather give up breathing than not have you in my life; you don’t have to love me back, I totally get it if you don’t, or you can’t. I just. I needed to tell you. I needed you to know that I love you, because on the other side of the diner was this tiny, grumpy old man with kept looking at a photo in his wallet and he had this sad-happy frown, and I don’t want to be alone 50 years from now looking back and feeling like I-”


Stiles is cut off by a burst of delighted laughter from Derek, who is somehow right next to him now, knees touching and Derek’s body leaning into Stiles’ space.


“Wha- Der?” Stiles is too stunned to be scared that he’s messed up– Derek’s laughter always catches Stiles slightly off guard with its audacity. Making him joyful by proxy– but he is uncertain about what it means.


Derek drops Stiles’ hand so that he can cup his face instead. “You are,” Derek chuckles, pressing his thumbs lightly along Stiles’ cheekbones and looking at him with something like awe, “So, so stupid.” He’s still smiling, and before Stiles can make a reflexive indignant scoff, Derek is giving him the softest, most perfect kiss of his entire life.


It’s over before Stiles can blink, but it only ends so Derek can say “I love you, too,” around a smile, and then the kiss resumes in quick presses and slow drags and exploratory swipes of tongue in between shared smiles and bursts of joyful laughter.

~College!au Pen Pal Jungkook~ PART FOURTEEN:END

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13]

Originally posted by jkguks

“Revenge?” You inquired with a smirk as he dragged you out of your room. 

“Come on. We have to make her feel bad, you know?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be the bigger people?” You raised an eyebrow. Stopping in his tracks, he sighed. “Aren’t you mad about what she did?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Then, for once, just this once, for your…boyfriend, can you agree?” He drawled out the word ‘boyfriend’ as if testing it out and then nodded in satisfaction.

“Boyfriend, huh? I don’t recall you asking to be my boyfriend,” you looked around, aimlessly.

“But Y/N,” Jungkook whined, shaking your hand in his grasp.

“Yes?”

“I’ve already told you I love you and I’ve kissed you,” He peered down at you with a raised brow. When you nodded, motioning him to continue, he shook his head as a chuckled released from his lips. “Now, all that there’s left is the question. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Sure, I love you, too, so it’s very clear that’d be my answer. Now, what were you thinking for revenge?”

“That’s it? A ‘Sure’? You know what, I should’ve expected that,” He laughed.

“Did you expect me to jump into your arms oh so gracefully and give you a kiss?”

“I mean, that’d be nice,” Jungkook shrugged with a cheeky grin. Rolling your eyes, you stood on your tippy-toes and pecked his cheek. He pouted but nonetheless walked along. 

“So, girlfriend, my plan of revenge is messy,” Jungkook smirked, leading you to his dorms.

“You’re not gonna call me that always, right? I like the sound of it but do we want to be that couple?” After a moment of silence you nodded to yourself. “Of course we do. We’ll annoy the shit out of people.”

“Exactly!”

“So what were you thinking?” You asked again when you reached his room; a room you stayed in plenty of time. You were the one who hogged his bed and constantly fought over room while, Yoongi, poor Yoongi, had to watch from the other side. Unlike you, Jungkook had a roommate. 

Opening the door, you both walked in. At the sound, Yoongi’s head popped up from his laying down position on the bed. “Y/N! I never thought I’d say this, but I missed you here!” Yoongi shouted, grinning ear to ear. You’ve never seen him like this.

“Hyung,” Jungkook sighed. 

“Nope, I missed Y/N. How many times have I told you to apologize to her for ignoring her for so long?” Yoongi stood up and walked over to the both of you. 

“Many,” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, casting his eyes downward.

“Oh really? Well, hate to break it to you but it required a Vmin intervention to get him to apologize,” You playfully scowled in Jungkook’s direction. 

“Why, what happened?”

“Remember Y/F/N?”

“That girl I met once when she came over and after she left, I banned her from coming back because she was too damn annoying? Yeah, I remember her,” Yoongi rolled his eyes as if recalling a day he’d much rather forget. 

“She wasn’t my pen pal…Y/N was,” Jungkook still obviously felt guilty for picking a stranger over you.

“Oh? That makes a lot of sense. I liked your pen pal’s sense of humor and I liked Y/N,” Snapping his fingers he shook his head, “Should connected them sooner.”

“Well, now she’s exposed and Kook and I want to get revenge,” You clapped your hands, smiling sweetly.

“And we’re dating! Y/N, can’t forget about the highlight,” Jungkook grinned.

“I sure hope you are. The way Jungkook used to go on and on about you, you already knew he was in love with you.” 

“Oh really?”

“Hyung! Not important right now! Revenge plan, remember?” Jungkook waved his hands around.

“I love a good revenge plan. What were you thinking?”

“Remember the paint war we were supposed to have?”

“The one with the balloons?”

Nodding his head, Jungkook grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

Looking between the two boys who’d be thought being twelve years old with a conversation like this, you were confused. Paint war? Balloons? 

“You think? It isn’t too mean?”

“You’re asking the wrong person…I’d write roast the shit out of them with a diss track. How can I help?”


“Great. More of Jungkook’s friends. Wanna yell at me, too?” You overheard Y/F/N groan when she spotted Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin approaching her. 

Both you and Jungkook were hiding on top of a probably restricted construction structure. It was in front of one of the buildings being repaired from storm damage. Under the structure, was Y/F/N where you had planned her to be. 

“We were just wondering why you lied to Jungkook,” Jin said, innocently, walking closer, but not close enough to be ‘revenge-ed.’

“I have to explain it to you, too? Ugh, honestly if I had known this would be the consequences of being his friend in the first place then I’d–” You nudged Jungkook to hurry up and start. Jungkook sent you a smirk before dropping the blue water balloon so it landed on her head. 

She let out a shriek as you stifled a laugh. The boys in front of her laughed their asses off, and you quickly grabbed the special present Taehyung gave you. Throwing it on the ground next to her, an eruption of purple smoke was released. 

“Smoke bomb. Smart,” Jungkook nodded, handing you a balloon. You both threw the remaining balloons before the smoke dissipated and scurried off the structure. You pretended to be just walking in on the scene, noticing the boys motioning you over. 

“You did this!” Y/F/N pointed an accusing finger at the two of you. Putting both your hands up in surrender you denied, “We just got here, how would we?” You couldn’t contain your laugh as you observed her. She was a rainbow. Her arms were green and orange, while her head and torso was a mixture between blues and pinks. 

“Then maybe it was the other two,” She was fuming. 

“Us?” Taehyung and Jimin genuinely just entered the scene. All the while, other students walked by with snickers and smirks on their faces.

“Wondered why she got that.”

“I don’t care. She deserved it. You know she stole my boyfriend in freshman year?”

“She looks better like that.”

“I’d give a high five to the person who did that.”

Smirking to yourselves, both you and Jungkook returned to your dorm room. “Now, that, was fun,” You yelled, a large grin on your face. Tackling Jungkook in an embrace, you sighed in content. 

“Princess, as long as you’re dating me, it’ll always be fun,” He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively.

“Says the virgin,” You smirked causing him to gasp. 

“Hey! You’re making fun!”

“No, no, just a small tease,” You leaned up and pecked his lips. Humming in response, Jungkook pulled you onto your bed. Hovering over you and wrapping his arms around you, he gave a cute smile.

“Just letting you know, I’m not letting go. Ever,” He buried his head in the crook of your neck as you laid underneath him.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to.”

The both of you soon fell asleep, your hand playing with his hair, a new thing you did that Jungkook loved. However, like the last time, you managed to move around so you were against his chest and legs tangled together. 

This time, when you woke up, there was no awkwardness. Soft smiles and sweet words were exchanged between you two and man, you wondered what the hell you did to deserve it. 


That day, you were both sent to you Dean’s office where Y/F/N, still some part of her body covered in paint splatters, sat in his chair. You sat in the other two seats next to Y/F/N. 

“I’m sorry Y/F/N, but no one saw it,” your Dean apologized.

“They had a smoke bomb! Believe me they did it!” She pointed another accusing finger at you.

“And why would they do that?” The Dean raised his eyebrow. You and Jungkook exchanged glances. You were both expecting this. If Y/F/N said you waned revenge, she’d have to explain why. And why would be the reason she’d be in trouble. Pretending to be someone else, especially if it was part of an assignment, was a violation and she knew that.

Opening her mouth a few times, she looked down and grumbled to herself. Looking back up sweetly, she apologized, “You know, it probably wasn’t them. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Then she marched out the door and closed it behind her. 

“I’m sorry I had to have you here. You see, paint was thrown at Y/F/N and she thought you two were the culprits. Do you know why’d she’d think that?”

The both of you shook your heads in disbelief, widening your eyes. “What?” “No way!”

“I thought so. You can leave now,” the Dean motioned to the door. 

“See? Smoke bombs are smart,” you smirked, out of ear range of the Dean’s office.

Intertwining your hands, Jungkook sighed, “What an adventure; First I talked to my pen pal, then you, then back to my pen pal, then you, and then Y/F/N, and then you who was my pen pal all along? Wow, what a story to tell.”

“Yeah, at least we’re both at fault. We both did stupid things.”

“Because we’re both idiots,” Jungkook finished.

“For each other,” you pinched his cheek lovingly, causing him to groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“As Sarcastic Princess would say, I love me too,” You smiled when he chuckled. “Oh, and I love you, too.”


ITS OVER *wipes tear* I hope this was an okay ending that satisfied you all! Thank you all so much for reading this and leaving such sweet messages and asks. I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of readers.

As for the next pen pal, it’s going to be….*drum rolls* Yoongi’s!!! So all you Yoongi biased (heh me too) be sure to stick around!! Pls, I love making friends.

How did you like it? Any particular parts you loved? Let me know!

I love y’all~

bunnylexicon  asked:

*whispers* okay but Imagine Taako doing a show in Ravens Roost around the same time Kalen does the thing and Julia and Steven live because Taako accidentally turns the bombs into fucking powdered Sugar. Taakos just wondering why the fuck the sugar didn't appear and Kalen gets found out because the detonators still went off, causing minor damage.

Taako waves his arm, and there’s no fucking powdered sugar.

And, fuck, okay. Okay. He worried this would happen, though of course he hadn’t said anything to Sazed because he could already picture the look that would get him. But he worried that this transmutation stuff was coming too easy to him. Nothing came easy to him, he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and now here it is. He’s standing on his stagecoach with a batch of fresh beignets and no powdered sugar like some kind of idiot.

Taako is a fucking professional, and he plays that shit off for laughs. Makes a frustrated face, wiggles his arm a bit, nothing. Hits his wrist with his other arm as if he’s trying to get the last bit of something out of a bottle. The audience laughs, and he prepares himself for another spell… and before he can cast it, there’s a rumble and a shudder.

There are several panicked moments where he and his audience both think the spire they’re on is about to come down, and then there are townspeople hauling men up the spire, and wouldn’t you know it - they’re fucking covered in powdered sugar.

“So that’s where it went,” Taako mutters, and he must have said it louder than he meant to because the crowd is howling.

He’s asked to a meeting in the tavern and he’s promised free drinks as an incentive, so fuck it, he goes. There’s a big muscled guy named Magnus there, along with his wife Julia who looks equally qualified to benchpress Taako a few times over, and both of them are smiling at him like he’s their new best friend. 

It’s… nice, Taako guesses. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the way they greet him, offer him a seat at their table, shove a tankard towards him - he’s used to admiration, but this isn’t quite that. There’s something a little more to this, and it makes him uncomfortable; he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He saved the town with his misfired spell, apparently, and Taako finally understands the couple’s good mood. This arrangement is more comfortable; next they’ll be asking if he can stay, if he can provide any protection spells for future attacks, and about how managed to anticipate this one. They’ll offer a price and Taako will have to decline. Eventually these people will get the picture; once they know that they’re not going to get what they want from him, that cheerfulness is going dry right up and Taako will finish his drink alone. Interactions are so much easier after all of the cards are on the table.

Taako decides that he doesn’t feel like dealing with that scenario tonight, and tells the two of them straight-up: sorry, this was completely an accident and there will be no repeat performances if he has anything to say about it.

They don’t care. They laugh, and they ask him about his show. They ask him what life is like on the road, and they tell him stories about Raven’s Roost. The three of them are in that tavern, sitting at that table, for most of the night. Taako’s not sure when he starts to feel comfortable. There’s something familiar about Magnus, and Julia is easy to like. It’s surreal, and it’s… a relief, like he’s found something he didn’t know he was looking for.

The two of them insist on sending him letters. He gives them a vague outline of his route and, sure enough, there are letters waiting for him at each new town. Eventually he writes back. Eventually it’s a thing that he does, sending letters to Raven’s Roost and then expecting an answer. He’s never disappointed, and that… scares him.

And then his magic has gone wrong again, and he doesn’t know what to do. He thinks about Raven’s Roost but… they wouldn’t want him now, not when he’s killed almost an entire town. Magnus and Julia saved theirs. What would they think of him. He’d rather not know.

Magnus finds him three weeks later. He started looking after the letters dried up, he explained. He and Julia were worried. They heard about Glamour Springs.

There’s a place in Raven’s Roost for Taako, if Taako wants it. It’s not much, mostly just an extra room, but the two of them thought it might be nice for Taako to have a place to stay if he ever came to visit. He’s welcome to stay there now; he’s welcome to stay as long as he likes. Taako still isn’t sure that he can trust this - but he wants to, so he goes.