and will in no way migrate towards each other

The Point III

Originally posted by teenwolve

Billy Hargrove x Reader

PART I | PART II | PART IV | PART V

BOIIII HOWDY. DID I GET A RESPONSE TO THIS GODFORSAKEN FIC OR WHAT?? 2,300+ words, WHAT’S GOOD, MILEY?!


The stares and murmuring about Y/N in the hallways made her just about ready to scream as she got to her locker. Word spread like wildfire the second the fight happened. Various stories and rumors were circulating Hawkins High, most of which were obviously not true. Y/N had been questioned frequently with each class that passed. She did her best to just ignore anyone that asked, but it was…grating, to say the least.

Y/N had to stay overnight at the hospital for monitoring. She apparently had a minor concussion to go along with that broken nose. Whether it was from Billy’s indestructible elbow or the floor, she would never know. Her under eyes were swollen and tinted various shades ranging from purple to blue, then fanning out to a light yellow. She couldn’t see her nose under the bandage, but she could definitely feel it, and if it looked anything like it felt, she knew it wasn’t good.

She felt like a freak.

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never too late

For @fandom-madnessess, who prompted one of Sterek almost not making it to the New Year’s Eve party in time! Happy New Year, Mar, I hope you’ll enjoy your 1.6k of New Year’s Eve angst and fluff!!


Derek is late. Terribly late.

He’s already speeding along as quickly as he dares, but the clock is mercilessly ticking on, moving ever closer to midnight. His chances of making it in time are dwindling with every passing second. It’s going to take a miracle - a New Year’s Eve miracle if you will - for him to make it in time.

It’s the first time he’s coming back to Beacon Hills in three years, and at the same time it doesn’t feel long enough and too long. Beacon Hills itself holds mostly sad memories for him now; even the happier ones are at best bittersweet, coloured grey by everything that has happened to him there. It’s still his land, his family’s ground and earth, but it’s not enough to keep him anymore.

Stiles is though.

Stiles is the only thing that can bring him back here, when he’d be just as happy travelling through South America with Cora or reconnecting with his and Laura’s friends in New York. But Stiles is here. Not always, not forever, but now, today. He didn’t ask Derek to come here; he never would, full aware of how tainted the place is to Derek. Derek offered.

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Hamilton Preference: Making Up After a Fight

Masterlist

Alexander Hamilton: Fights are ugly in the first place, full of both of you saying (yelling) things you don’t mean. Afterwards, you take a bit of time to cool off and then it’s usually Alex who finds you first to apologize. He wipes your tears, calls himself an idiot, and lets you do the same.

John Laurens: Both of you feel so bad after a fight that you just migrate toward each other, offering sweet smiles and hugs and both apologizing for whatever silly little thing made you fight in the first place. Next on the list is a hand-in-hand stroll to your favorite restaurant for a makeup dinner.

Lafayette: He tends to move on from fights quickly, even if the underlying issue isn’t really resolved. It’s an easy breezy bad way to handle things. Eventually you have to tell him that something is still bothering you and he’s shocked and sorry that he’s made you feel that way. Kisses are in order to set things straight.

Hercules Mulligan: Fights? Did you mean both of you cold-shouldering your way through the house for a few days? You usually break first, finding it hard to not be able to talk to your best friend. You lay it all out on the table and he sighs, kissing your forehead first before the two of you talk through the issue.

George Washington: You haven’t even finished the argument before George is pulling you toward him and apologizing. You stay there wrapped in his arms until neither of you are mad anymore and it’s time to take on the world again together.

Aaron Burr: The best way he can find to approach you after a fight is to sit down next to you and silently watch a bit of whatever show you were watching. Somehow or other you end up tucked under his arm, muttering how you forgive each other and how you’ll do better next time the issue arises.

Thomas Jefferson: Not gonna lie, y’all bang this one out. As in hot makeup sex. Sometimes it’s angry, sometimes it’s just a way to work through some emotions and pent-up energy. You’re much more willing to talk when he collapses on top of you, naked and exhausted.

Philip Hamilton: He buys you everything. He offers a sincere apology, don’t worry, but then also drowns you in flowers and chocolates and other extravagant things. You forgive him and plus, it’s hard to stay mad when he’s holding out yet another bouquet with a few petals stuck in his curls.

a belated birthday drabble for roxy 💗💞💗💞💗💞💗💞

the “this is your house I’m not making you sleep on the couch” “yeah but you’re the guest you take the bed” conversation between ur otp right before they share the bed reblog if u agree #NO I INSIST IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT#WELL THIS BED LOOKS BIG ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF US#SO THAT WE BOTH CAN BE COMFORTABLE#AND WILL IN NO WAY MIGRATE TOWARDS EACH OTHER#AND ATTEMPT TO BECOME ONE ENTITY WHILE WE SLEEP

“This is your house.  I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

He really should have seen that one coming.  How could he not have?  It’s not like he hadn’t known her since she was ten fucking years old.  Pain in his ass even back then.

“Yeah, but you’re the guest.  You take the bed.  That’s how it goes.”

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Where Did the Party Go?

Originally posted by paceyswitters

Request: Cheryl Blossom x fem reader based off the song Where Did The Party Go by Fall Out Boy with serpent reader. Please and thank you.

Warnings: cursing


I’m here to collect your hearts,

It’s the only reason that I sing

I don’t believe a word you say,

But I can’t stop listening

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Ex-Boyfriend!Vernon (Feat. Minghao) [Fluff Ending] (T)

A/N: This is the Fluff Ending for Ex-Boyfriend!Vernon. Okay it was wayyy longer than the angst ending, got carried away with Minghao huehue. Much thanks to senpai fluff master Admin Junnie who gave me some ideas for the content hohoho. 

This ending is cuter, more fluff, and happier. It shows how the reader is able to accept failure and move on to a new future. Please go and read the main story if you have not, as well as the other ending, which has more of an Angst Ending! Enjoy :-)

Word Count: 3,034 

WARNINGS: LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF

[ Main Story | Angst Ending | Fluff Ending ]


Originally posted by centimentally

Vernon’s hands slowly cascaded downwards to your neck, then onto your waist and hip. The hot kisses trailed from your lips onto your cheeks, and Vernon then proceeded to nibble on your ear. You felt your face blush, and your whole body tensing up. You had a tingling sensation all over you, as you felt satisfied from the little gesture. The touch of his lips on the outline of your neck gave you good chills, and tiny kisses from Vernon formed hickeys.

“Babe, are you here? Where… WHAT THE FUCK..?” Bailey hollered, witnessing the messy, hot exchange. “Why the fuck are you making out with my boyfriend?!”

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tell it to the stars (but hide it from the sun)

in which I just wanted to write some pure, tooth rotting fluff in which the unthinkable happens (ie: Clarke and Bellamy are happy and togther in the same place for more than 2 minutes)

read on ao3 here

The first time they sleep together it’s an accident.

All Bellamy remembers is the two of them sitting cross legged on either end of the bed with a handful of maps spread out in between. There was a relaxed air about, despite the fact that conversation was short and stilted at times and, as the night wore on, punctuated with more and more yawns.

When he wakes up though, it’s to Clarke’s hand tangled in his hair and his head nestled on her chest, shifting with each breath she takes. It doesn’t strike him at first, as he shakes the last grips of sleep off him all he can wonder is why his pillow is so much softer than before, and warmer too. He does realise eventually, after a few seconds, and sits up almost immediately, a dull flush creeping on to his cheeks.

Her hand drops down on to the bed with a muffled thump, and the slight jostle causes a faint frown to tug at her mouth as she begins to stir.

(Bellamy does not watch her eyes slowly flicker open, squinting at the early morning light that seeps in with lips pursed in a tiny pout as she combs her sleep mussed hair away from her face. And he certainly does not imagine what it would be like to wake up to this every morning.)

If Clarke notices anything odd about her previous sleeping arrangements- and surely she must- she says nothing, and greets him as normal, voice scratchy and hoarse from disuse. Bellamy tries not to think about that either.

The only time she shows any bit of reaction is when she has to smooth the wrinkles out of the maps that they laid on last night, after they’re already fully awake and moving about his room. Her cheeks pink just a little, but she doesn’t bring it up, and when she leaves she tells him she’ll see him at lunch, like she does every morning.

The second time happens about three weeks after the first, and they’re not in Arkadia, but en route to meet with a group of grounders up east.

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