and spacious

spikerr  asked:

“If we get caught I’m blaming you” for Gajevy please? :D

This is a little steamy. Hahaha.
Canon setting, pre-wedding scenario.

;Behind Closed Doors

‘You’re not supposed to be here!’

Gajeel faltered in the doorway, fingers curled tight around the door handle. His gaze slid to Levy’s, then to the oval-shaped mirror hanging above the vanity table. Levy’s robe hung limp over the back of her chair. The room was spacious and had been decorated with heart-shaped balloons. Juvia’s doing, he guessed.

Folding her arms over her naked chest, Levy glared at him with the fury of a dragon protecting its hoard. Gajeel’s hand slowly fell to his side as his gaze roamed the rest of her body. The only thing she’d managed to slip on before he walked in was a set of lacy white panties and stockings.  

Perfect

Slamming the door closed behind himself, Gajeel walked purposefully into the room. Levy had barely registered his approach when he grabbed onto her waist and hoisted her up onto the vanity table. She let out a gentle moan when he kissed her.

‘I can’t take it anymore,’ he breathed.

Levy’s hands drifted up into his hair. ‘It hasn’t been that long.’

‘Seven days is a long time,’ he complained.

Levy smiled against his mouth.

Gajeel slid his hand across her bare back, reveling in the soft touch of her skin. She swung her legs around his waist, urging him closer. And then her hands came up to his chest, pushing him away.

Gajeel stared at her. ‘What is it?’

‘This was your idea,’ she said.

Gajeel winced. ‘Cana’s, actually.’

Levy raised a brow. ‘So you didn’t want to go a week without seeing each other to make the day special?’

‘The day is special, Levy,’ he reminded her.

Levy sighed. ‘You’re right. It was a stupid idea.’

Gajeel trailed his fingertips along her chin. ‘Agreed.’

‘But Lucy will kill me if I’m seen with you.’ She kissed him gently. ‘It’s bad luck, you know.’

‘I don’t believe in the consequences of bad luck,’ Gajeel scoffed. ‘After all, I have the shittest luck I know but I still got to meet you.’

Levy’s eyes widened. Her cheeks flushed. She glanced at him, then the door, and smiled his favourite tell-tale smile.

‘If we get caught,’ Levy started, lowering a hand down his body to fiddle with the zipper of his pants, ‘I’m blaming you.’

Gajeel kissed her again, his lips urgent and warm against her own. With one hand on her neck, the other on her back, he let the ache of need wash through him, let it remind him of how much he needed her presence, and of the loneliness he’d felt in the days leading up to their wedding.

‘But after this,’ she breathed, tilting her head back to accommodate his lips which were now on her neck, ‘you have to let me get dressed. Or else there’ll be no wedding at all.’

Gajeel moves his hand to her thigh and gave the hot skin a firm squeeze. Levy groaned in relief at the contact. Her heels dipped into the small of his back, dragging him closer. Gajeel grazed Levy’s neck with his teeth, preparing to replace the marks that had faded in their mutual abstinence from one and other.

‘Get your hands off my bride!’

Both turned to face the opened door, where an angry Lucy stood, fists on her hips, ready to tear Gajeel apart. She raised a brow, then a fist, and Gajeel slowly stepped away from his bride-to-be.

‘I can explain,’ he started.

Lucy tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I’m waiting.’ 

Gajeel glanced at Levy helplessly. ‘She smells good,’ he muttered.

Levy suppressed a giggle. ‘Sorry, Lu.’

Lucy rubbed her temples with both hands. ‘You Dragon Slayers are completely hopeless.’ Heaving a sigh, Lucy shook her head. ‘You two are going to be very happy together.’

Gajeel fought off a smile. ‘Yeah.’

Levy nodded. ‘We really are.’ 

Eye Witness

AU: WitnessProtection!Yoongi, Cop!Jungkook w/gang!VMin

Warnings: Gang related stuff- gun violence, threats, all around danger, etc. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: It should have been a normal walk home from work, but when you see something you shouldn’t have and get caught, passerby Min Yoongi is not happy that you drag him into it. 

Keep reading

Story 215: Cultural Exchange

The human steps onto the station from her shuttle, and walks into the scanner.  It flashes - no weapons.  I pity her, though there’s nothing I can do for her.  By tomorrow she will be a slave the same as me; the Gaunvans collect ambassadors like trophies.
“Hello there!  Amanda Thorn, ambassador for the Empire of Humanity.  You’re a Ixian, correct?”
Mimicking human body language, I nod my head.  "That’s correct.  Ix Malasan.  It is an honor to meet you.“
She smiles, reminding me again that she has somehow modified herself to breathe atmosphere suited to the Gaunvans rather than wear a respirator like myself.  Other than that she appears to be a standard human, something I am led to believe is less and less common as they pursue the bizarre compulsion humans have to alter their bodies.  Changing hair color, adding pigments to their skins in patterns and pictures, growing long tails or ears that mimic other species from their planet.  No other known species tampers with their bodies like this.
“Not to be undiplomatic, she says, "but the Gaunvans enslaved your people.  Why are you here?”
“We… reached a mutually beneficial agreement.  We would have lost in combat and been eliminated, so we chose to preserve what we could of our culture.  The Gaunvans are not naturally skilled at diplomacy, so they bring me along to assist and to show that peace can be made.”
She nods.  "Understood.  I can respect that choice.  How much freedom do you have, personally?“
Smart of her, to start planning for her future. "A fair amount.  I have free reign on the ship when we are in transit.  At the homeworld I have reasonably comfortable quarters.”
“Have you ever met the Empress, or…?”
“Oh, no.  No, while on the homeworld I am confined to my chambers - but they’re quite spacious.”
“Shame.  Okay, plan ‘A’ then.  Let’s get this over with.”

Despite my attempt at encouraging diplomacy, the Gaunvan commander starts with threats.  I don’t know why I bother.  He looms over the human, chitinous plates almost black in the dim light.  His pod of six is posted around the room, for show more than for actual security since she followed orders and came alone and unarmed.  "Failure to surrender will bring the full wrath of our army upon you.  Humanity will be crushed, and wiped from the universe.“
To her credit, she looks very calm.  "We live in a post-scarcity society.  Bloody conquest just seems silly, doesn’t it?”
“It is for the glory of Gaun!”
“Well, I’m not prepared to get into a religious debate with you,” she says, “since I doubt there’s anything I can do to change your mind.  Since you’re committed to this course of action, what are you willing to offer if we surrender?”
Now he goes back on script.  Maybe I am getting through to him a little?  He talks about the benefits of being enslaved, mainly the protections for up to twelve designated culturally historical sites.  They’ve been mostly good on their word on my homeworld, though they did use the area just outside of the Hahhn Memorial as a waste dump.

She nods as she listens.  There was a part of me that was worried she would argue, because the humans are somewhat childlike.  They don’t understand the horrors of war.  Certainly they fought in the past, but the last time they had to battle was more than two of their generations ago, so these ones have all grown up coddled and soft.  They play games with each other instead, silly competitions.  They make art, and play pretend, and alter their bodies for fun.  They don’t have weapons anymore, and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did.
“Well then,” ambassador Thorn says, “this is about what I expected.  On behalf of humanity, I would like to formally reject this offer.”
Oh no.  Foolish humans.  The galaxy will miss your innocence.  The commander makes an excited clicking noise, looking forward to combat.  He reaches a blade-tipped hand towards ambassador Thorn, but hesitates as every device in the room bleats out an alert - we’ve all lost communications with the outside.

Like one of the dances humans do, she gracefully pivots around while taking his hand.  She ends up close to him and places her other arm against his thorax, then… oh gods. Gods, what… she’s ripped his arm off.  It’s not possible.  The commander is clearly thinking the same thing, staring in mute shock at his dripping limb.
“I’d like to extend a counter-offer,” she says, and flips the arm around before jamming the bladed end into his neck.  The warriors around the room are fidgeting, uncertain.  They haven’t been told to attack, and don’t want to dishonor their commander by intervening in a fight with such a small creature.  She’s still holding the commander’s severed arm in his neck, but she rotates and heaves, lifting him off the ground with it for a moment… and then his head pops off, landing squarely on the conference table.  She allows the corpse to slide to the ground, and straightens her clothes as if they aren’t covered in ichor.

I don’t understand.

The warriors, now with no orders at all, finally act.  She smiles as they come for her, I suppose because she has done her duty to send this powerful message of resistance.  She can die in peace.  Or… no… She’s killing them.  She’s smiling because this is fun for her.  Though they’re partly killing themselves; if there had been two of them, prepared, strategic, they might have prevailed.  Watching six panicked fighters get in each other’s way while trying to stop a smaller, faster, and somehow impossibly stronger foe is almost hypnotic.  At least one is killed by the stab of a friendly lance due to pure confusion.  It’s over faster than I would have thought possible, severed limbs strewn across the room.  I’ve got some fluids splashed across my clothing.  Only one yet lives, and he is retreating.  She seems to be allowing it.

She follows behind, holding a lance.  The wounded and scared warrior scurries down the hallway towards his ship, looking back behind him as he goes.  She’s just… walking.  Calm.  And for some reason I’m following.  The last Gaunvan reaches the airlock and the second he enters his code she throws the lance - throws it! - and spears him.
“Come on, we’re stealing their ship.”  She says it like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“There are thousands more on board!  Thousands!  Almost all warrior caste!”
She smiles again, and keeps walking.  I see errors on the screens that we pass, messages indicating communications have been lost.  They can’t tell anyone what is happening here.  Even the communicators within the ship are on nodes rather than being wired, so the warriors at one end of the vessel won’t be able to coordinate with the other end.  Do they even know they’ve been boarded?
“How?”

We enter the bridge after she kills a handful of other guards with ease.  They’re too shocked by her presence to act in time.  Once the door are sealed and she is working on the control systems she starts talking to me again.
“Well, you know, we do like to be prepared.”
“But you… you ripped his arm off.”
“Yeah, that was super satisfying.”  She looks at me appraisingly.  "Oh, come on.  Is it really that surprising?  You knew we were into changing ourselves, right?  Being strong enough to pop an overgrown bug’s forelimb off isn’t rocket science.“
"Your people are so peaceful…”
“Oh, sure, most of them.  But we did that, too.  Tweaked ourselves over the years to decrease aggression and some of our tribalistic tendencies, increase empathy… all stuff that can be undone if needed.  Though for a good cause even the nicest of us can squish a bug or two.”
“You bond with Ry'ling devourers!”
“Those are the big fuzzy guys that look like cats, yeah?  Those guys are adorable!  But… look, liking some things that could kill us doesn’t mean we’ll sit back and get enslaved.  We didn’t put up with it well when we enslaved each other, and we certainly aren’t going to go for it now that we’re… finally… on the same page about slavery being unacceptable.  It was, uh, a longer time than we like to admit before the last hold-outs were convinced of that one.”

I can feel the ship un-dock.  We’re moving.  "What about all the warriors on board?  They’ll break through the doors eventually!“
"Not according to this control panel here.  Take a look.”
It says there’s no atmosphere in the rest of the ship.  Life signs are negative on all but two of the warriors, presumably the only ones that got to their suits in time.  She disabled all the safety measures, somehow.  She just killed… I check the life signs readout again to confirm the number… three thousand, six hundred, and fourteen soldiers.  Wait, how is it tracking that unless… “Are communications back up?”
“Yeah, I’m calling some friends.  The military is right around the corner, so to speak.”
“But Earth doesn’t have a standing military.”
She laughs.  Not just a little bit.  She’s actually doubled over for a moment, unable to catch her breath.  "Sweet Jeebus, you guys actually fell for that?  No standing military.  Have you read about us at all?“

Three ships appear seemingly out of nowhere, and one docks with the Gaunvan vessel.  Once the atmosphere is restored we head to the airlock to meet them, and I’m surprised by an entire platoon of Gaunvan warriors.  Speaking English.
"Okay boys, send your last goodbyes!  This is in all likelihood a one way mission.  Commander Thorn!  It is an honor to see you again, and might I say you look exquisite drenched in the blood of your enemies!”
She bows to him, blushing, and then salutes the Gaunvans.  Or… humans?  Can they change themselves this drastically?
“You’ve got two holed up in here somewhere.  Bridge is clear, have the techs bring the new brain on board.”
“New brain?”
She looks at me like she’s forgotten that I’m here, and then turns back to the others.  "Men, this is our new friend Ix Malasan who has just been liberated from his captivity.  He’s going to be helping with our intel.  Malasan, yeah, a new brain for the ship.  Once this vessel is cleaned up and back in service with a new crew we’ll be able to take it over whenever we want even if all of our boys get killed.  We cooked up a really sadistic AI for it.“
"But how do you know the protocols?  This was your first contact with the Gaunvans, they’ve never lost a ship anywhere near here!”
“No?  There wasn’t a mining colony disaster two years ago?”
“But that was just an accident… and you weren’t even involved in the war yet… and…”

The faux-Gaunvans have finished boarding.  The one that was talking to them before puts a bladed claw on ambassador - commander - Thorn’s shoulder.  "You coming with?“
"Naw.  Orders said I could only come if they allow ambassadors near extremely high value targets.  Malasan here says they don’t, so I need to wait for my next mission back on Earth.”
“It would have been nice having you with us, Thorn.  Well, maybe we’ll see each other again.  Suicide mission or not, I think I’ve decided to live through it.”
“Bold choice,” she says, and kisses him next to his lower mandibles.
He nods at me, then turns back to his men. “Okay everyone, we are now officially on the job.  And what is that job?”
In unison, they start chanting.

“FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!”

For a moment I nearly feel pity for the Gaunvans.  Nearly.  Commander Thorn leads me off of the ship, and I start thinking about what useful information I can provide the ‘harmless’ humans.  Fuck shit up, indeed.

Suppose there was a species that was very peaceful, very good at diplomacy and just generally very nice— but they also happened to look really terrifying to humans. Sort of an opposite to that ‘humans are cute space orcs’ thing— species X is perfectly friendly, but just happens to look like they walked out of a human horror movie.

We don’t blame them for it, it’s not their fault (and we’re slightly too afraid to talk to them about it anyway) we just quietly avoid ships where they are stationed and stay away from areas where they live and, over time, it just becomes accepted that, for whatever reason, you don’t put humans and species X together. Captains turn down human applicants if they’ve got a member of species X on their crew and visa versa. They barely notice that they’re doing it, it’s just how things are done.

Then one day a human crewed ship breaks down in species X space so that one of their ships picks up the distress signal. Being such lovely people, they offer to help and the humans can’t think of a good enough excuse to refuse.

The repairs take about a week and, the whole time, the species X crew members are loving the human ship. It’s so spacious, you barely even see other crew members! (They don’t realise that all the humans are constantly ducking out the way whenever they see them coming.)

The humans, meanwhile, just spend the entire week in Hell. The species X crew members like to take shortcuts through the ventilation shafts, so you can constantly hear them skittering around above your head; the ship is full of this low key but very distinctive smell— rotting meat, the smell of death (apparently they give it off when they’re happy); half the crew have goosebumps, despite the temperature controls working perfectly.

The ones working in the engine room directly alongside the species X crew have it hardest though, they can’t run away— and it’s very hard to relax and do your job when, suddenly, you hear this noise above your head and a hairless, milk white creature with no eyes and a huge mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and long gangling limbs with fingers and toes that look human but like they’ve been stretched, leaps silently with catlike grace from the rafters, lands right next to you, flicks out a forked tongue, holds out a long taloned hand and asks “can I borrow your spanner?”

PROPOSALS

▹ pairing: Jeongguk x reader
▹ words: 18,102 I’m so sorry 
▹ genre: smut, fluff, light angst, friends to lovers

You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him.


You never thought Jeongguk would actually take you up on the whole fake proposals thing. When you had suggested the idea to him, he’d just laughed and said “yeah”, then continued playing Fallout 4. You hadn’t actually meant it; the idea was one of those you vaguely imagine it happening, but not really, which is why when he brought it up weeks later suggesting you try it out, you thought he was kidding. 

He wasn’t, and this is how you end up in one of the city’s nicer restaurants on a fake date with your best friend. 

Keep reading

If your animal hurts you, take a step back and ask yourself why

This morning I am typing this with my ring finger, as my middle and thumb are pressing gauze to my index. Please excuse the typos.

I have been blessed with either docile animals and animals that love me dearly. I know I have. And when people at work ask me about hamsters in particular, I tell them I’ve been extremely lucky to never have been bitten.

This morning Bernie decided to tell me that he thinks his cage is more of an apartment and he would like a spacious house more. I knew that day would come - he is a Syrian after all, and very few cages really exist for them - but I was hoping it would take more than two days. I bought the biggest cage that could house him but he is not a fan. He has experienced life outside out of the box he was in at work and goddamn he is gonna enjoy it.

The only cages big enough are only available online where I live and take one to two months to ship. I told Bernie this, but of course being a hamster, he didn’t care. So I gave him a tissue box with a few pulled out, stuck some noms inbetween the sheets, and made a digging cave for him.

Not good enough, man. I booped his snoot, and he bit me.

So first off, hamster teeth hurt like a motherfucker.

Secondly, I wasn’t mad. I did yell out a foul word, but more out of pain than any anger at him. It’s not his fault. He just wants s bit more room AND his cool toys, not one or the other. I left to grab some gauze but I came right back, and took Bernie out, and we had ourselves an explore on my bed, which IS much larger than his cage, obviously. Bernie had a blast. He tunneled under sheets. He tunneled under pillows. He climbed Pillow Mountain. He wanted to rappel down the sides of the Bed Cliffs (Mama said no).

Bernie is now back in his cage thinking he is Hot Shit. And while out of cage time is important, it’s equally important that his actual cage be big enough so that I can work an eight or ten or twelve hour shift and come home and go right to bed, and know that he’s okay and not bored. In the meantime, I’m thinking of going to Walmart and buying one of those long bins used to store sheets and making him a maze out of cardboard. A big maze, with empty passages and passages stuffed with bedding and chambers big and stuffed with bedding to tunnel through. He’d like that. I’ll keep it once the big cage comes in, but hopefully this will tide him over while he lives in the apartment cage.

Bernie bit me to show he was frustrated. He wants to run NOW, not in two hours, not in two months. NOW.

Luna, Apollo, and Aisha, my cats, don’t bite and never have, but they do occasionally scratch. Not on purpose. They’re trying to get down or get up, they slip, or something exciting or scary happens and they need to book it. And it hurts every time.

You’re going to get hurt if you own a pet. You’re going to get bitten or scratched - by them, their equipment, etc. If they’re a bigger animal, you’re going to get body slammed from time to time. It’s okay.

I’m not saying you can’t yell FUCK when the pain hits. It’s actually scientifically proven that that helps lessen the pain. But don’t blame your pets. Look around and try to see it from their perspective. Maybe they’re tired, or something scared them. Maybe they have to pee. Maybe you’re bugging the crap out of them, or they want to play in an animal way, not in a people way. Maybe it was genuinely an accident and your body invaded the space they’d intended to put their body.

It’s okay. Talk to them calmly. Grab a bandaid or some Tylenol. Don’t yell at them. Don’t hit them. Don’t be mad at them. They’re just trying to talk to you and it’s not their fault you don’t speak hamster or bird or lizard, etc etc.

Let us also hate the smaller details of the Pepsi ad

Everything about the new Pepsi ad is repugnant and insulting, okay? The two supporting characters to Kendall Jenner’s lead role are (A) a hipster cellist who beckons her to join a “protest” and (B) a hijab-wearing photographer whose moment of triumph is capturing a celebutante model hand a cop a can of soda. The cumulative effort is the single most repellent video I’ve seen since I watched an actual beheading.

But! Let’s not get bogged down in think-piece territory. There are lots of LITTLE things to hate about the video, too. And we should appreciate every terrible detail.

“Join the conversation” is a blank-box social media prompt. It is not something you would put on a sign for a public demonstration, even if that public demonstration were for something as nebulous and inoffensive as LOVE or PEACE. 

“Hey, you coming to the peace rally?”

“Yup, got my Join the conversation sign and some cans of soda.”

“Perfect, that is everything you need for a protest in free democracy.”

WHO MADE THESE SIGNS?

It started as a circle with a line through it, but there doesn’t appear to be anything inside the circle, because the people who made this commercial couldn’t take the chance of being actually AGAINST anything, even if they were going to slap a heart over it to show that love conquers all. 

NO HATE? Whoa, slow down! We’re pro-love, but we’re not anti-anything. Nazis can love, you know. And they deserve the fresh taste of Pepsi as much as the woke millennials whose business we so desperately crave.”

WTF? “JoTin The conversation”? Hey, the milquetoast invitation for discourse wasn’t half-assed enough, let’s shittify it an extra 15% with a nonsensical design flourish.

“Hey man, made that LOVE sign you wanted.”

“Looks like the lettering was too small the first time so you painted over it and gave it another go.”

“Correct.”

“And the second time was also not large enough to fill the sign.”

“Listen, I didn’t have all day.”

Bullshit fucking fake-ass spacious protest. “We’re marching for peace … and elbow room!”

AD EXEC 1: Y’know, not ALL young people like protesting. Can some of them just be, like, eating pizza?

AD EXEC 2: Should they get up and join the protesters? It doesn’t really fit with Kendall’s narrative.

AD EXEC 1: Fuck no, they’ve got pizza. 

Kendall Jenner’s mind is blown as she sees middle-class people for the first time! 

KENDALL: Ew, what’s that smell?

PA: I believe that’s a mix of debt and diplomas.

KENDALL: What and what?

OH SNAP. Kendall has shed the artifice of wig and lipstick to join the FIGHT to, uh, join a discussion about love? I feel so empowered! And thirsty!

Welcome to the protest! Everyone’s marching with plenty of space on a pleasant day in Los Angeles, but we have a hydration station that may or may not dehydrate you (the science is still kinda iffy, don’t look it up).

What’ll it be? We have Pepsi, Silver Pepsi, Pepsi Blakk, and Pepsi in bottles. Just some ice chips? Okay, but they’re not water. 100% Crystal Pepsi.

Step back from this article for a second, dear reader. Place aside your immediate thoughts of the protester-police unity achieved by Kendall Jenner giving a handsome cop a Pepsi (even though there wasn’t tension between the crowd and the cops before this, because that would have taken some sort of narrative risk). Table, if just for a moment, the emotional and political flashpoints of Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, the Women’s March on Washington, conspiracy theories about paid protesters, and the increasingly fraught existence of basically everyone in America except for a small percentage of exceedingly wealthy people.

Consider, instead, the marketing team behind this. This was born in a brainstorming session, or perhaps in an executive’s mind as he watched a throng of angry, desperate people stand up for what they believe is right. This is a branding opportunity, someone thought, fanning the flames of a garbage can fire in Rome. 

If I can give Pepsi any credit here, it’s the notion that a pretty white girl born into money and fame is the best person to bridge the gap between protesters and police. We could have really used her in Ferguson. 

I’m sure she was busy.

Yeah, totally. Join the conversation.

Langst Headcanons

(none of that abusive or extremely ooc shit cause…no)

-He never wants the team to feel concerned for him cause they’re in the middle of fighting a war. He doesn’t need to distract them with his problems. So, he talks to anyone he can that’s not on the team.

-Like he did with the yupper, if he makes an alien friend and they’re alone, he’ll try to vent for awhile. He starts to flirt with some aliens and go off with them, so the team thinks everything is good and normal. But when they’re alone and if the chance comes up, he’ll talk about how he feels.

-Everytime, the alien tells him to tell the team, but he just c a n t.

-Lance knows everyone has different connections but he can’t help but notice how Shiro rarely speaks to him and Hunk outside of battle and training.

-Lance won’t show whether he cares or not if someone insults him (unless it’s to keep up his and Keith’s rivalry) but if someone insults his friend(s) he will go ballistic

-Lance and Coran often talk about how they miss their home planets and try to bring each other up by telling stories from Earth and Altea.

-One day Lance decides to experiment with his team (since he’s quite good at reading and testing people) by not speaking unless he was spoken too. He noticed how little people besides Hunk actually talked to him casually.

-“hey Lance are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine.”

Narrator voice: “But he was not fine.”

-Coran suggests doing the mind melding exercise again and it’s kind of concerning how much Lance does n o t want to do it

-Lance’s mom gave him his jacket which is why he wears it so much. It’s like a piece of her.

-Lance has a knack for finding abandoned rooms in the castle like spacious storage areas or balconies. He likes to sit there when his insecurities get the best of him.

-Keith found him in one of those spaces once. They didn’t say a word, just sat in each other’s prescense. Lance only spoke when Keith got up to leave. He said, “Stay.”

-Lance wishes he could start over with Allura and just be nice so she wouldn’t roll her eyes and scoff when he tried to have fun with her (Allura doesn’t realize how the flirting just…stopped).

-The paladins visit a planet with rain and Lance has to try and keep himself from crying when he feels the water-like substance against his skin. (He does but plays it off like it’s the rain hitting his face)

-Lance knows his team isn’t obligated to praise his every action and validate him as much as he thinks he needs, but that doesn’t stop the voice in his head from convincing him that he’s just a seventh wheel after all.

-Once Shiro realizes how the unintential bias was affecting Hunk and Lance, he throughly apologizes and makes an effort to include them more.

-The team will never forget the day they all walked in on him sobbing and their perceptions of him were changed forever.

-From that moment on, they made an effort to include Lance in everything they could. An effort to compliment him when he did something great.

-Lance was extremely grateful. His insecurities were surely a battle with himself more than anything, but the team’s support meant the world to him.

Beneath This Scar | M

“Are you willing to stay by his side knowing what he truly is?”

Précis: It was supposed to be a story written only in fairytales, and somehow, you were destined to live it.

Note: Inspired by the movie Wolf Children, totally different from this fic tho, so no need to worry. this was supposed to be 3k what happened-

Genre & Warnings: Angsty, alotta fluff, mentions of blood & implied smut. | Words ➳ 10.3k


To you, he was something you would have never known could actually exist.

He was as mysterious as they would come, holding his pencil in a way so elegant that you didn’t know was possible, the look of boredom sprouting through his features as he scrunched his nose in concentration; ears twitching while he tried to draw something perfect and pleasing to his eyes. You watched him sketch with such wonder in your irises, and even though you wondered how he could draw while ignoring the professor speak and try to teach his students about the basic wonders of the world — you hadn’t known that whilst watching the boy draw, you were also in a little world of your own and not paying attention yourself.

Keep reading

The Industry

Summary: Your high school sweetheart has a provocative career, of which you’re having a difficult time adjusting to. Pornstar AU- Bucky Barnes is an adult film star
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Characters: Female Reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: Explicit subject matter and cursing

| Feedback is very much appreciated | Masterlist |

“Cut!” The harsh yell of Justin Hammer, the middle-aged director of this hell, boomed through the spacious production studio. “James, great job as always. Tasha, we’re going to have to shoot that close up again.” He rises from his chair, crossing his arms. “You keep moving out of the light, and we need you to stay in it so we can get a clear shot of those famous tits of your’s.”

You stand alongside other crew members, watching the muscular back of the blue-eyed man flex as he moves from between the redhead’s legs his mouth had be working on seconds ago. Natasha’s glossy, bare body moves gracefully as she rests into a sitting position. Her eyes look frustrated as she blinks in motion with her soft pants. You watch as Natasha and Bucky share a quick exchange of a particular look, one that only could be shared between people who’ve been working in this industry for awhile. A look you could never understand.  

Hammer strides over to a set of screens, all replaying Bucky’s oral actions and Natasha’s moans on repeat. He stares at the two actors in their field for a handful of minutes before turning back towards the pair who are now standing side by side in satin navy robes. “Let’s take a twenty-minute break, I need to sort out this lighting problem.” He turns back to the screens, muttering instructions to the group of people around him. 

Your eyes peek at the monitors, lingering on the messy head of long, dark hair that rests between the long-legged redhead as his tongue swirls around the slick core of the woman. A sharp pain shoots from within your chest, your eyes glued to the daily horror of your boyfriend having sex with another woman. 

Keep reading

Complice

Originally posted by apgujeon

Park Jimin. Hogwarts!au. 7k words. Fluff. 

↠ Unraveling the reasons to Park Jimin’s assortment into Slytherin.


Park Jimin, for lack of a better word, is magnetic. An eye catching grandeur. A brilliant meteor cutting through the dead of the night. A glitter of gold and silver. It is no exaggeration when you say you would find yourself singling him out of many other ground-swept robes, clicking heels, wand wielders. It’s not the hair, no –not the locks of fireplace or charcoal ashes, it isn’t also the distinct pitch weaving through buzzing chatters nor is it the recurring dark smoke filling the air at the back row in charms. Thinking of the reason alone sends a pang of melancholy through your veins as your mind tries to block out the patches of defiled memories almost instinctively. But the unavoidable fact of the matter is, Jimin was once your world.

Keep reading

baby, my baby | 02

Originally posted by kookmin

“Raise my child, just for twelve months”

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader
◇ genre: angst, fluff. parents au
◇ word count:  3.2 k
◇ author’s note: i will be updating this series every friday evening, 11~12pm korean time! i really hope you enjoy!

part onepart two part three part four (coming next week!)

Keep reading