as long as i live my feelings for you will never fade

The Reason I Don’t Do Cold Readings Anymore…

by reddit user Skarjo

I don’t do ‘Cold Readings’ anymore. I don’t tell fortunes. I don’t read tea leaves.

And I do not do contact ‘the other side’.

Look, don’t judge me alright? It was an easy gig. I mean, the first time I did it, it was a joke. I did it just to impress a girl. You’ve been there right? It was something I’d read about online and I thought I’d give it a go.

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Evermore is the most gorgeous song that rips your heart out and makes you feel all the FEELS!!

- Josh Groban’s version is absolutely wonderful 

- I literally can’t comprehend how he stole an angels voice and made it even better 

- You can really appreciate the depth and strength of his voice like damn 

- I get Phantom of the Opera vibes and can totally see the song in both 

- Thank you my enchanting siren 

BUT HEAR DAN STEVENS VERSION WITNESS OUR BEAST SING 

- This one literally makes me clench my heart in pain 

- At the end of the song I’m on the verge of tears 

- You can truly feel how much she has affected him and he can never let her go inside his heart 

- But he does because he is selfless as fuck and wants her happiness before anyone’s 

- It just has so much emotion especially the last lyrics like I’m bawling just writing this 

- Forever in love with you my Beauty 

- READ THESE DAMN LYRICS AND LISTEN TO THE SONG SO YOU CAN FEEL YOUR HEART BREAK!  

I was the one who had it all
I was the master of my fate
I never needed anybody in my life
I learned the truth too late


I’ll never shake away the pain
I close my eyes but she’s still there
I let her steal into my melancholy heart
It’s more than I can bear


Now I know she’ll never leave me
Even as she runs away
She will still torment me, calm me, hurt me
Move me, come what may


Wasting in my lonely tower
Waiting by an open door
I’ll fool myself she’ll walk right in
And be with me for evermore


I rage against the trials of love
I curse the fading of the light
Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach
She’s never out of sight


Now I know she’ll never leave me
Even as she fades from view
She will still inpire me, be a part of
Everything I do


Wasting in my lonely tower
Waiting by an open door
I’ll fool myself she’ll walk right in

And as the long, long nights begin
I’ll think of all that might have been
Waiting here for evermore!

Originally posted by partofyourtaleasoldastime

Originally posted by poissonxquad

DOCTOR DREAMY | PT.1

pt1 | pt2 | (1/?)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, eventual smut + expecting parents au

word Count: 4,724

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin 

↠ description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

cr.


“I want to have your baby,” is a particular string of words that is only considered acceptable in a certain number of situations.

Maybe between two lovers getting lost in the moment of their heightened feelings, and somehow the words just slip — that’s probably the most common occurrence of the phrase. Or maybe it’s a night out, alcohol in your system, and the words just sort of spill past your lips to the most ridiculously attractive stranger you’ve ever seen before you can even think to stop them. Even that, can still be considered at least borderline passable usage of the phrase. Hell, even the instance of a teenage girl proclaiming her love for her favorite celebrity with the heavy proclamation is still considered normal for the most part.

These, along with a few far-fetched others, were the only situations you could think of that allowed for the usage of those six words to be passable, yet, here you were, uttering that exact phrase, when you were in absolutely none of them. You weren’t getting caught up in the moment with lust-glazed eyes, you weren’t drunk and spewing nonsense at a bar to some guy, and you most certainly weren’t some star struck teenage girl staring up at her celebrity crush’s poster.

No, you were none of those things.

Instead, you were sitting across from your ex-boyfriend telling him that you wanted to have his baby… Yeah, totally passable usage of the phrase, right?

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My 12 Lives

Aries - A whole new world

In Pisces she wept and fell to sleep, a mermaid tail drifting in a sea by her side. All was calm, and then began the storm. A fireball in the sky,
a new season, a new beginning, a hurricane to drop a child inside. From the storm the Aries was born, learning to walk and talk, forgetting the mermaid tail she took 12 lifetimes to sew. She looks for magic behind every corner, always expecting something astonishing and new. Through fierce suppression or taught shame, her spirit becomes poisonous, because she is a wild heart, free and untameable, as young as the spring, as pure as the wind. And she may hold violent secrets, or act of some destructive urge that sings a song of impulse. Instant self gratification is important, consuming the world is important. Everything seems so foreign as if nothing ever existed before she was born. Now she is in a world that seems to have forgotten her, a princess of the night through her last lifetime. Her scarlet aura conducting fires in the horizon, a child chasing shapes in the clouds. Twinkle twinkle little star
now I know who you are

Taurus - Rest and Rectitude

It had all been so loud, so busy, so exhausting. Pushed from one frantic lifetime to the next, the Taurus woke up tired, her body seeming to be entwined with vines, her ears buzzing with the sound of wildlife. She walks through the forest to find hideaways opening just for her
a priestess of the flowers, a mother to the earth, a reflection of pure beauty, an earthy Aphrodite. Her eyes glaze with the glassiness of still waves, her hair matted with herbs, it’s time to rest now, to flourish in a world that suddenly became soft to touch and delicious to taste. She could never truly cherish her surroundings before, life past through her in such a frenzied flash
sometimes there are old anxieties that creep in, reminding her of chaos and carnage, hitting the walls of a palace she has built
founded on integrity, diplomacy, and the laws of nature. She approaches the day with sleep still in her eyes, often relying on caffeine to adjust to human life. If she could flitter through life on natural time, she would sleep for days, and cherish the stillness of night



Gemini ~ Wings of a Butterfly

She cocooned herself into a flower bed last time around, like a chrysalis. The tired Taurus and a breath of fresh air was blown from heaven, the Gemini awoke, a butterfly with a golden helmet on her mind. Energy released in erratic form, the only way was to spiral upwards with the other winged creatures
sending messages through ether, delighted at making sounds, twists and turns with words. Suddenly the mind leaves the body behind, she is a floating balloon
Full of wonderful tales and facts and insights, illuminating the light behind her eyes when her mind is alive. And she can stay awake thinking for days, stimulated by internal conversation. Her responsibilities and plans can vanish,
as if she has completely forgotten. She can find herself in a mess of paperwork and clothes, unable to escape the hold of her mind, deciding with one personality but in conflict with another, split memories of life revealing themselves untimely. And she can be chastised for her scattered mind, often forgetting the most basic of things yet she can keep you captivated for hours under the spell of conversation, whisking words in her mind like a magic maze, every age and time in a myriad of marvellous mental somersaults



Cancer - Timeless Woman

The incessant chatter of Gemini drifted into the back of her mind, turning into long conversations on the beach, the tide washing words with memories. In cancer time, every minute could be a moment, there is the possibility for growth, enlightenment, and meaning in every experience, the pinnacle events of life felt with a reverent glory, to marry, to love, to held, to be held, to be welcomed home, and be kissed as she leaves for the world.
She is not bound indoors, but rather makes a presence and a home out of everything, constructing hideaways in secret fantasies and re illustrated memory. Before it was all about learning and squeezing facts out of life, now it is about withholding life, or giving birth to beautiful life, whether it be her own, a child, or something or someone she cherishes. People are stain glass windows to her lunar sculpted eyes, their feelings moving like colours, their psychic activity enveloping her like a heatwave. And you wonder why she can’t sleep, when its something her spirit so desperately needs. But your worry is her worry, and you give it to her while you fall asleep


Leo ~ Harlequin and Heroine

Wielding light at her command, this was a woman who formerly ruled the Moon. Illuminated from the heart, a golden child of the cosmos
an heiress of the day, almost sick on sunbeads. The whole charade can be in disarray, born into a kingdom of chaos and neglect. Her howl is enough to spin the earth so the sun burns nearer
feeling temperature creep into your chest, and that’s the feeling of her breath. Sun honey, a crown made of maple syrup whipped by stars. Before she had given life, and wept, and provided for. She taught to love and how to feel. And now she is all these sensations in her own side show riel
A cast selected by the heavens. A script written by a royal soul. A child at heart forced to be an actress on a stage, garnering adornment and command, painting an image with colours drenched in soul tie-dye
Tonight she fades away, but she comes to life on stage, or in your eyes, or lying with your heartbeat by her side. She feels music and cinema, she can see a part of herself in every character. Life fades as quick as fame


Virgo - Butterfly Mind

Sunburn punctures through her, a coursing burn shivers, her mind on fire, alive with anxiety and thoughts dancing in intricate design like butterflies. Charring burn down her tummy, more tension inside, stings on their wings, nervous sickness. The Leo spotlight was so loud and chaotic, the audience applause become deafening screeches in her ear, pride longing for the recognition. But the show has ended, and the Virgo has been left behind
only a shadow for company in genius that has lost its mind. The show has ended and the only audience member remaining is the critic, ready to spit his words of venom, turning up the houselights and shining them right on pretend flaws. And the only way to leave was to get down on her knees, to begin repairing herself, to scrub the world clean. The celebration is over, and now she is stuck in her mind, desperately trying to settle a million anxious butterflies


Libra Lightshow

To be a perfect mannequin, oh that was the dream. As a Virgo she sewed threads until her lungs couldn’t exhale. But now she is the dreamer of dreams, the writer of romance novels, and the personification of art. Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most loved by all? Libra is ruled by Venus, the Goddess of Beauty, sweet Aphrodite, rising from a watery clam into the airy clouds. This is where Libra dwells, painting the sky with her thoughts, dazzling like diamonds in the sun. With a pen feather in her hands she narrates the law of the land, reigning in on righteous justice and morality. Her body moves in harmonious symmetry, graceful, her expression warm and then glacial, for she is a woman born under the air swords, so intellect rules, beauty is in the eye of the beholder
and the mind is the beholder, so sharpen your wit before you challenge her judgement, she may be vague when she enters the story she reads
But she can be a woman scorned to those who threaten her allegiances or breed toxicity, the illusion and the glamor of a hall of mirrors, each face of a flower petal projecting through entrancing display. Daughter of the equinox, blessed with a cherubin face and allure, sorely misunderstood, she is not a flirter but a lover, a woman who finds parts of herself in everyone, parts of herself she longs to love, so she longs to love you, let her love you, it will be the most exquisite thing you ever do



Scorpio - Sea Siren

She plummeted from a jewel high in the sky, the cotton candy of Libra
free falling into the bottom of the ocean. Surrounded by all sorts of strange creatures, sea entities wearing the faces of demons, fighting to survive, born inhaling poisonous water.  And so life seems like a swim upward, but the pressure so harsh, the voices of ghosts are only under the surface, surrounded by hollow mermaids, sailors who have lost their life, between two worlds, the alive and the passed. She learned to love in Libra, but now she is forced to love the darkness, to cherish the beasts in herself  that claw at the inside of her skin, to be an instrument of light infusing with shadow. The sun shining through the cracks, the burn she can feel on her shoulder blades in quiet moments, it seems like sun from the bottom of the ocean, but that is soul, that is her soul, radiating across a hidden treasure island.


Sagittarius - The End and the Beginning of Everything

Waking from what seemed like eternal death, a lifetime of dying over and over as a Scorpio, becoming a phoenix, and now dancing in the dazzling sky, like jade diamonds. Flying over all the lives she has seen, every experience fills her mind with another location, another tropical island filled with mythological secrets and opportunity. She learned the art of psychic activity as a Scorpio, and now she is in tune with cosmic timing, living in a future arranged by vision, light, and prophecy. And yet it can all feel so incomplete, having kissed death and returned to reunite with a godly lover, through wind, trees, snow, and sea. One part of her body longs for the soil of the ground, the taste of real love, the human experience, grand and simple. And yet the spirit source caresses her to elevate higher, leave the lower mind behind and anybody who dwells there, for she must meet God face to face, with no church or temple or orgasm to hide behind. Ah, this is the essence of life. To believe what she has not seen, but to believe she will, so from the sky angels dwell but concealed by her own will. Sometimes she is too scared of her own greatness, she is after all, a hunter, one whose heart is reserved for the highest priestess.



Capricorn - What Becomes of Unfulfilled Dreams

The celebration of Sagittarius was over, the room was dark, and it’s almost like
performing a whole night of making up for the night before, or the life before. The Capricorn shakes on the ledge of the highest cloud, a mere push of
invalidation or discredit enough to send her tumbling roughly onto earthly concrete, the whisper of success in her ear flying kites in the sky. Between two worlds she seems to live, seemingly forced into responsibility from the
moment she took her first breath. Every experience and achievement forced through some sort of harsh institution, a secret life where she is berated
by her own volatile voices, and a life where is must play every role with
infinite ease, displaying qualities beyond human.
Echoes of children’s laughter play like violins in her ear, a harsh reminder of a life she was never permitted to know. A world alone. The rings of Saturn the karma she is forced to bear, undertaking the duty of confronting all the madness and the  pains of the Gods. And you want her to love you? You criticise her for not showing heart? That’s all she has ever shown.



Aquarius - Bleeding Rainbows

The world was loud and cold when she took her first breath, the lingering
shadow of life as a Capricorn haunting as she shook right to her bones. Tip toeing between clouds she tried to balance the crown on her head
all she had ever known was trying to survive and now she was a mother, a lover, a guardian to every child. When she laughs rainbows from the sky appeared, she is the angel of righteousness, truth, and humanitarianism. But the responsibility is heavy, and the crown becomes straining, alone she dwells, waiting for something to change, for people to change and find their hearts, and soul, and spiritual mind so she can descend and be free, so she can live on her vibrational harmony. As a Capricorn she had already walked the temple with Saturn, and now she had been summoned for another round, and her heart was already tired, and the voices were still so loud. She had achieved so much and yet how could she feel so empty and alone? She felt betrayed by their hatred and love of war and destruction. But there was soul and she could feel it, so
her mind sang with electric impulses of spiritual nectar
a milkshake of elevation for every being. You can sometimes catch her jumping from cloud to cloud, leaving a trail of teal flickering lanterns behind



Pisces - Mermaid Mirror 

After waking from what seemed like eternal sleep, she tumbled quickly,
plunging into deep water, taking a breath, but it wasn’t
water, it was air, it was earth, and she choked. Eleven times this happened, and the 12th time she realised this was life, 11 other spirits dwelling inside. The smell of heaven and everythingness seduced her from the invisible, whispering in her ear to come home, to shut her eyes and leave this world behind. She tried to walk but never really got her balance, the floor always slipping below her, her feet only having the memory of a mermaid tail. Everything can seem directionless and unsafe, like nobody could truly ease the sores in her spirit. She constantly attempts to swim away in oblivion, but a silver cord tugs her back to earth, reminding her of intense spiritual obligation, contracts she wrote with angels and demons. She has divine truths whispered in her ear, she also has lies, the trickster’s bride. As an Aquarius she had lifted humanity, she had raised a global generation of pure heart, she swung her legs off  the clouds, but now she was burned out, longing to fall asleep again, but she needed more energy than anybody to satisfy 11 other spiritual energies. 

-Cherry

Truth or Truth

Requested anonymously: A one shot where the reader has never been able to orgasm through masturbation. When Dean finds out, he offers to help.

Warning: smut, masturbation

Word Count: 2300

A/N: Hope you enjoy, anon! XOXO

“Truth or truth?” Dean asks, grinning a little sideways in that way that lets you know he’s just the right amount of drunk.

Truth or truth is the game you play when you’re both feeling a little wound up, needing to blow off some steam. You’re too old for stupid dares and too nervous for dares that might actually make you touch each other, so you settle for sticking to truths. It never amounts to anything, but you both enjoy the sexy words said in the dark as you lie together on one bed, a bottle being passed between you, like you have a life and a personality outside of monsters.

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{PART 27} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; As death enters the room to claim a soul; so does life. Who shall live and who shall die - as you begin to wonder…is this really the end?

“And as he looked upon her face amidst the madness, he saw everything he held close depart his world; while she slipped into the next”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

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

{Part 1} // {Part 26} {Part 27} {Part 28}

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Annabel Blackthorn - Lady Midnight

“Annabel Lee” - Edgar Allan Poe


It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
  Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
  Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the sounding sea.


I hope you like my edit <3

@cassandraclare <3

Personal twitter/ig @IronGold_ | Shadowhunters IG: @em.morgenstern

prejudice in fantasy lit and the use of metaphor

reallybigshadowhunterstvfan said:

what can you say about making Simon a shadowhunter, Mrs Clare? it seemed odd to me that after a whole series of battling for equality between species/races, the downworlder had to become a shadowhunter. not only he basically ceased being a minority, he also became a part of a privileged community, and it just didn’t sit well with me.

Just for the record — I’m not Mrs. Clare; there is no Mr. Clare. I am married, but my pen name is not my husband’s property. :-) 

I think this is a very interesting question that brings up a ton of issues, but there are some aspects of it I’d love to clarify — for instance, I am puzzled at calling Simon “the Downworlder.” Is he more a Downworlder than Magnus? Things like that actually are really important when discussing stories — if he were the only Downworlder in the story, that would be one discussion, but he isn’t, and therefore his story does not speak for the experience of all Downworlders or even a small fraction. 

I am sorry you were surprised negatively by Simon’s story in TMI. Simon never wanted to be a vampire — he always hated it, and unlike Raphael and Lily, he never joined the community of vampires but instead spent all his time with Shadowhunters. Being a Daylighter had already changed him from being any kind of regular Downworlder, as did bearing the Mark of Cain: both made him even less “the Downworlder” and more of an anomaly. It also separated him from the other Downworlders, who treated him with distrust. In my experience, very few readers expected Simon to remain a vampire, given that it was something he never wanted or got used to, and that it was not his dream. More on that in a bit.

As to the question, to me the suggestion that Shadowhunters are “the privileged” and Dowworlders are as a block “the marginalized” — instead of being a complicated metaphor in which they sometimes but not always stand in for people who have had their rights curtailed —  overly simplifies the situation. It is an argument seems to ignore the fact that in fact, humans exist along axes of privilege and marginalization: that people can be privileged in one way and marginalized in another and that when Simon becomes first a Downworlder and then a mundane and then a Shadowhunter, he is not moving clearly from marginalization to privilege, but rather exchanging some types of privilege for others (he remains white as a Downworlder, and is a Daylighter), and exchanging some types of marginalization for others (the marginalization of being a Downworlder for the marginalization of being a mundane-born Shadowhunter and a Jew in a world where Shadowhunters are meant to have one religion). 

Because the argument disclaims spectrums of privilege and marginalization, it also suggests that the world of the Shadowhunter Chronicles is one in which there are no gay or POC or trans people in existence; one in which there is no racism, homophobia, ableism, cis privilege, or bigotry against the neuroatypical. But that is both problematic erasure, and also not true of these books. Downworlders don’t stand in for people of color or LGBTQ+ people because people of color and LGBTQ+ people are in the books; they have not been subsumed into metaphor. (I know the showrunners said there was no homophobia in the Shadowhunter world, only warlock-phobia, but that’s the show, not the books, and it has a different world and world-building. I notice this is a question I get since the show came out, and I sometimes wonder if it’s a question of confusion between the two different universes? It’s easy for that to happen.)

Fantasy prejudice metaphors are complex and confusing and they rarely work as a one to one comparison (in other words, there is a difference between saying that this fantasy situation is reminiscent of this real world thing and saying this fantasy situation is exactly the same as this real world thing. For instance, one of the really interesting things about True Blood is that it made many deliberate parallels between “vampire rights” and GLBT+ rights — referring to vampires “coming out of the coffin” and “God Hates Fangs” on church signs. However, its vampires were also often violent predators who killed and ate people. The argument that Simon “basically ceased being a minority” (while, somehow, remaining Jewish) is similar to making an argument that True Blood was saying that gay people kill and eat their neighbors; I’m fairly sure in fact, they weren’t. They were reaching for a resonance — the echo of a real world situation that would give a layer of relatability and meaning to their points about difference. But they were not creating a literal “these things are the same” comparison or they wouldn’t have had vampires chewing off people’s heads.

So: are Downworlders discriminated against? Yes, sometimes, by Shadowhunters, who are a small specific group. Do they “stand in” for a specific minority group? No, they cannot, because they are accessible as a metaphor to any marginalized group or groups whose rights have been abridged. Also: the world at large does not discriminate against Downworlders because they do not know they exist, nor do they privilege Shadowhunters because they don’t know they exist either. It would be one thing if this was a high fantasy and Shadowhunters and Downworlders were all there was, but these books are set in our world, and the characters experience real-world bigotry, racism, homophobia etc. because of it.

Alec sighed. “Sorry to wreck your vision of our happy family. I know you want to think Dad’s fine with me being gay, but he’s not.” 

“But if you don’t tell  me when people say things like that to you, or do things to hurt you, then how can I help you?” Simon could feel Isabelle’s agitation vibrating through her body. “How can I—” 

“Iz,” Alec said tiredly. “It’s not like it’s one big bad thing. It’s a lot of little invisible things. When Magnus and I were traveling, and I’d call from the road, Dad never asked how he was. When I get up to talk in Clave meetings, no one listens, and I don’t know if that’s because I’m young or if it’s because of something else. I saw Mom talking to a friend about her grandchildren and the second I walked into the room they shut up. Irina Cartwright told me it was a pity no one would ever inherit my blue eyes now.” He shrugged and looked toward Magnus, who took a hand off the wheel for a moment to place it on Alec’s. “It’s not like a stab wound you can protect me from. It’s a million little paper cuts every day.”

 *** 

“He hurt you. It was a long time ago, and I know he tried to make up for it, but—” Bat shrugged. “Maybe I’m not so forgiving.” 

Maia exhaled. “Maybe I’m not either,” she said. “The town I grew up in, all these spoiled thin rich white girls, they made me feel like crap because I didn’t look like them. When I was six, my mom tried to throw me a Barbie-themed birthday party. They make a black Barbie, you know, but they don’t make any of the stuff that goes with her—party supplies and cake toppers and all that. So we had a party for me with a blonde doll as the theme, and all these blonde girls came, and they all giggled at me behind their hands.”

***

If we carry the theory through (Shadowhunters are THE privileged, Downworlders are THE marginalized) that means that Alec, as a gay Shadowhunter, is more privileged than Simon, a straight vampire. That Ty, who would be locked in a mental institution if the Clave discovered his autism, is privileged beyond white, rich, immortal and powerful Malcolm Fade. It’s saying that when Cristina encounters a wealthy, white, straight, misogynist male werewolf in Lady Midnight who tries to force sexual attention on her, she, a Latina woman, is the one who is the privileged character because she is a Shadowhunter and he is a Downworlder (though Sterling has arguably, given that he lives outside the supernatural world, never experienced a whit of prejudice because of it.) So I’m sure you can see where the problem lies.

It also erases Simon’s Judaism entirely. Stating without caveat that Simon has become “part of a privileged community” means ignoring the fact that Simon is Jewish; that he decides in Tales that he will continue to practice, and that he was the only Jewish protag written by two Jewish authors that I’m aware of having been on the bestseller lists last year. He didn’t think about being a vampire as he was preparing to transform — he never wanted to be one or consented to be one, nor was he part of the community, as Raphael constantly pointed out — though he does later think of having previously been a Downworlder when interacting with vampires and Shadowhunter prejudices. He thought of the important thing to him: his Judaism, which he both couldn’t and wouldn’t give up. To me it is personally painful to think that for any reader, Simon’s status as a vampire is more significant than his status as a practicing Jew.

I think sometimes it is possible to invest yourself so heavily in a metaphor that you forget the real world that surrounds the metaphor and the flexibility of metaphors in general. The Shadowhunter/Downworlder situation could stand in for the systemically privileged and marginalized of our world: sometimes it does. However it also can stand in for the way totalitarian governments abuse their own people: there are echoes in Shadowhunter history and current events of the Cambodian genocide, of Stalinist violence against intellectuals and resistors. There are also echoes of police brutality — what Shadowhunters have is the privilege of the Law, specifically: the Law is what allows them to enact bigotry in the name of justice, and when they abuse their jobs, it has resonances of the way police can abuse their jobs and use the privilege conferred on them by their authority to murder and abuse the helpless and marginalized. There are also echoes of the way soldiers carry out immoral orders given by superiors: the Shadowhunters are taught to be obedient to the Clave, and one of the ways we know who our Team Good is in any TSC series that they question that obedience. All of these are echoes and resonances: they are not saying that the Shadowhunters are the police, or the US military, or the Khmer Rouge; the resonances provide context and hopefully add a sense of realism to a situation that is fantastical in its nature.

 (It’s also a wise idea not to so totally buy what the Shadowhunters are selling about themselves. They think they’re special and better and awesome, but the books constantly question and problematize that. Shadowhunters also pay a high high price for their runes and their sense of superiority: they die young and often and experience brutal constant violence and the pressures of a repressive society that allows for little divergence from an idealized norm.)

There are reasons that the Downworlders were never constructed to be a specific marginalized group and their situation was never meant to be limited in its relatability to one situation— for instance, it’s very hard to not look askance at the argument that Downworlders are meant to be specific “race” when you can become a Downworlder and then stop being one: when you can, as Simon does, change what kind of magical creature you are, because there is absolutely no correlation between that and what race or ethnicity means in our world. 

 So yes, Simon becomes a Shadowhunter: however, what I don’t see acknowledged here is not just his ethnicity and religion, but the fact that he becomes a Shadowhunter partly because he is aware of the prejudice of Shadowhunters, and fights against the bigotry they show not just to Downworlders but also to their own. He is part of Magnus and Alec’s Shadowhunter-Downworlder Alliance. He continues to work for change from within the system, arguably something almost no one else could do, because there are almost no other Downworlders who have become Shadowhunters. It is odd to me to consider Simon as simply ascending to a height of blithe privilege when he is fact much more like someone who has become a police officer in order to root out corruption and racism in the police, and brings his own knowledge of marginalization (which he still experiences) with him.

That is why Simon in Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy is constantly fighting and bending the rules in the name of his evolving social conscience, though I understand if you haven’t read TfTSA. One of the things about having had a flood of new readers enter fandom because of the TV show is that I’ve seen a lot of arguments based on the idea that TMI is the entire story of Downworlders and Shadowhunters, or the entire story of these characters. I see people talking about characters getting a happy or sad ending in TMI even when those characters go on to feature heavily in the sequel books and could by no reasonable account be considered to have any ending, happy or sad — unless you thought TMI were the only Shadowhunters books that existed rather than a chunk of a larger ongoing mythology. In no sense has Simon’s story ended: you have no idea if he will remain a Shadowhunter or not. Perhaps if you consider the fact that TMI is not a story that has ended for Simon, but rather one that continues, the fact that he has now been two magical species and might well move on to become another will sit less poorly with you? After all, this is not “after a whole series of battling for equality between species/races” this is “in the middle of a whole series of battling for equality between species/races.” Usually the middle of a story isn’t the place it’s best to draw all your conclusions from. :-) 

Hallelujah

Summary: Through Bucky’s eyes, he falls in and out of love with you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1,545 (incl. lyrics)

Warnings: Angst. 

A/N: Heard this song today and well, this came out. Hope you all enjoy.

Originally posted by gliceria


Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah 

I remember the day I met her. I recall everything, the clothes she was wearing, the weather, the name of the waitress that was taking my order, how stale the soda became because I was so entranced with her, with the way she moved. I remember everything. And every now and again, my brain goes over this occasion, because it does not want to forget, does not want these details of such a monumental moment in my life to fade away.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do u know any fics where Sherlock is jealous?

NONNNNYYYYYY YES. 

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

JEALOUS SHERLOCK

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

OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE SHERLOCK

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

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

Push Over(Jimin Smut)

So, I will only warn you once. If you want to think you’re bad ass and read this then you’re on your own. This is NSFW AND I’M GOING TO WARN YOU IT IS TRIGGERING THIS IS NOT SOMETHING FOR THE KIDDIES DO NOT READ IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE THE KINKS ABOVE AND INCASE YOU DID NOT TAKE THE TIME TO READ THEM I WILL TELL YOU RIGHT NOW WHAT THE KINKS ARE

GUN PLAY, OIL, VIBRATORS, SPANKINGS, CHOKING, ORAL, ANAL, OVER-STIMULATION, RECORDING, DIRTY TALKING. I don’t regret anything. 

@irene-diabolik

 

Push Over:

There you were sitting there with your fingers drumming impatiently against the table you were waiting at. You were beyond pissed/ You were so lived that you felt as if your whole world was turning upside down. You couldn’t believe Jimin had actually stood you up. Here you were, in a short tight red velvet dress hair dolled up in a bun that was decorated with jewels. Eyes lined with a mixture of light and dark seductive makeup and lipstick decked out on your lips. You were past a dime piece tonight and you hated these kinds of places especially wearing tight dresses. You were more of a baggy sweats and tank top kind of woman. Fancy events didn’t excite you but because it was an anniversary you told yourself that it would be better this way. To at least make the male happy because he had done so much for you and he had made your lives better together. But now all these higher up people were looking at you with judgmental gazes. You knew what they were thinking. That you were stuck up, maybe waiting for a man, or for someone to notice you. And who were you to tell them that you weren’t? Because it was none of their fucking business what you were doing here but because it was a constant glare and a constant feeling of eyes on you. Your hand swiped out to pick up your phone, reading that it was 11 PM five hours after the set date with Jimin, you gripped at all you had throwing a hundred-dollar bill down on the table walking out of the door.

You were hurt. It stung deeply, telling yourself to just plant one foot in front of the other you could feel the burning in your reddened cheeks. Black heels piercing the tiled floor as you walked out one of the most upscale popular restaurants in Seoul, you reached a hand out to hail a cab and of course some blew you off because you were a female. Sighing softly, you waited patiently, the cold wind whipping against your cheeks.

“It’s cold out. Take my jacket bunny.” You imagined Jimin saying to you. Seeing an illusion of him standing beside you, dressed down in a black suit and a white tie. His pink hair combed back and gelled down. You were so intoxicated by his beauty, at first you didn’t notice the tears sliding down your cheeks, or the taxi cab that was honking at you until the fourth time the horn sounded. You snapped out of it quickly, opening the back door, you sat down bowing your head in apology to the indifferent driver wiping your cheeks quickly. Crying was never your forte, your mother had told you it was ok to let out a few tears every now and then but you had got caught up in a dangerous life. Drugs, sex, violence and everything in between so there was no room for crying, unless of course it was tears of pleasure. It had started years ago. You were young and naïve taking the bus home when you knew better, you knew you should have called your parents but you were a hard-headed girl. Getting off the bus you were snatched by gang members, who pointed a gun to your head and told you not to utter a word. Bringing you to an old abandoned building you were sat in a chair and talked down on like you were nothing more than garbage. But luckily for you, the leader of the gang had a son a few years older than you who wanted you the very moment he had set eyes on you. It was a match made in heaven or hell, however you look at it. Park Jimin was your everything. He had given you everything. Yes of course you weren’t into the whole gang love and you refused to give him the time or day. But he started undermining you, showing up to your house, barging in to meet your parents. He even picked you up from school offering you protection from bullies who teased you for being the smart goody girl. It didn’t take long to have you fallen for his charms or in his bed.

He was a wildfire that consumed your body and left nothing for the waking. But lately he wasn’t here. You assumed it was because of his business he was running, or running away from the cops themselves. But it seemed like now he was running from you. He came home and he was too tired to do anything, in the mornings he tried to have quickies but it wasn’t something you enjoyed anymore. He always fucked you rough he never took his time to enjoy you. And that was what you hated. You felt like you were just becoming another girl that he stringed along in his life and those promises forever and always. They seemed to fade in the distance like his voice. Those cheap thrill words he told you just to get you cumming so he could say he tired you out. There was no love, he didn’t hold you. He didn’t make you feel wanted. And he never talked to you. He just shut you out. Completely ignoring you. So when he asked for a date you were shocked thinking this was just what you both needed to get each other back on one accord. That it would solve all of your problems. And then he didn’t show up. A typical Jimin doing typical shit. And you were tired of having a typical man with typical charms.

Slamming the door once you got home, the taxi driver blew at you speeding off and you flipped him off screaming. It wasn’t his fault, you didn’t mean to take your anger out on him, it just sort of happened when you were worked up and it had been a few weeks since the last time you had even been touched. Opening the door to your house, you half expected to see Jimin there apologizing. But all you felt was the coldness of the air draft hitting your skin. The cold light switches off in the dark house showing that no one had been there since you left. Sliding down to the floor you shut the door behind you, a ball of tears and throbbing feet until you picked up the pieces of your heart and got your ass in your bed.

~

“Good morning.” Jimin’s soft voice rang out from the kitchen where he sat as you walked in through the doors wearing a full on T-shirt with a bra underneath it and sweatpants with panties. You never went to sleep with all your clothing on but ever since that night a month ago you vowed to never give into Jimin, to make a change and maybe leave. He had come home the next day apologizing and asking for a redo. You had simply walked off not even answering him. And that is how it has been for the past month. The tension growing thicker every time he tried to talk to you because you didn’t give a fuck about what he had to say anymore. He tried to help you wash dishes, you were drop them and move around, he would offer you to cook, you stopped it all together throwing the food out to get takeout instead. Jimin tried to help you undress because he thought you would let him bury himself balls deep into your pussy but he later had a rude awakening when you pushed him away and gave him a death glare. Not even saying a word now, you saw the coffee and breakfast he cooked for you but instead of taking it you grabbed a bottle of water opting out of eating at home today.

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N! It’s been a month already!” Jimin shouted, his voice no longer soft nor sweet how he was trying to imitate it. You turned around to watch him, opening up the bottle of cold water you pressed it to your lips taking a swig of the coolness before you licked your lips not even responding to what he said. Walking off from him you made your way back up the stairs to your room blowing him off once again. While you were getting dressed you heard a lot of slamming things down stairs and things being broken. You smirked to yourself, proud that he was a pit of feels and not knowing what to do with himself. He wasn’t the one embarrassed, or the one that got stood up and left alone. He wasn’t the one who went weeks without being touched, and months without being loved. That was the fucked up part. You gave Park Jimin everything he wanted and you had made up your mind you would never get it back. Planning on leaving him, you had started to look for other places to live, working late at the dance studio to earn more money for a down payment. This was the final week of you dealing with his shit. And you’d leave for good.

Changing into jogging spandex pants and a red sports bra you decided to go jogging without a shirt today. Maybe if you were lucky someone would see you and want to sweep you off of your feet. You did your hair in a lose high ponytail, putting on your wireless beats earphones in your ear, you let your phone Bluetooth your music and walking down the stairs you looked around for Jimin. Of course he was gone and despite some part of you feeling happy about it, there was a tiny part of you wishing that it wouldn’t had been so. Grabbing at your keys to the house you put on your shoes and shut the door starting your jog.

~

The jog was something to help you take your mind off things. At first you hated running, but then you wanted to stay in shape for Jimin. Now you ran to burn out your anger and any other feelings that managed to seep through your bones. It had been a good two miles that you ran on the pavement of the backroads by the park outline. You didn’t want to run through the crowds of the people so this was a safe way for you to run and make sure that you got your exercise. Legs shaking, you could feel the beat of your heart against your ribcage, the sweat pouring down from your face and breast to your stomach and neck. Your legs shaking lightly, the burn felt so good, even your ass cheeks felt it. Smiling to yourself you were singing an upbeat song and then like that it was all gone.

A hand around your mouth you were about to scream until you saw nothing but blackness over your eyes. Trying to fight with what little strength you had your body was hauled up over someone’s shoulder and you were thrown into a vehicle. You knew so because you could feel your body sliding with every twist and turn it made. A hand reaching up to take off the black thing over your head, your arms were soon caught behind your back and you couldn’t move. You fought and struggled to get out of it before you blacked out from the lack of air a million thoughts running through your mind. And the biggest one itself was that Jimin wouldn’t even know nor care.

A yell from your lips sounded off as you woke up by the surprise of cold water pouring down on your body. You were soaking wet, eyes glaring around in a panic to see what happened you were shocked to see yourself in the old abandoned warehouse that was the location for Jimin’s gang and where you both first met. Looking around and then straight forward you saw him there, wearing a long black sleeved shirt and blue jeans that were ripped and fitting on his thighs. His hair wild and everywhere Jimin had a gun in his hand, it was just sitting there sleek and black. He waved it at two people and looking around as far as you could, you saw the men retreating leaving you there with just Jimin and his friend.

“I never thought I would have to do this to you. But it seems times just, cause for drastic measures. Now I’m going to offer you one chance to speak. Or I will force it out of you.” Jimin spoke to you slowly. And then it all came back to you. Glaring at him you didn’t quite know what he meant until you landed your eyes on the gun again and you gave him a snarl.

There was silence in the room for a bit, before Jimin sighed and he stood up walking towards you. “You know you really fucking piss me off sitting there like a fucking robot. Is that what you want to be treated like? Nothing.. A fucking rag doll? A piece of shit?” Jimin asked as he got right in your face, hands on his knees as he watched you. When you didn’t even mumble a word he rolled his eyes, unlocking the safety option he pressed the cold gun against your left temple and it caused you to gasp your body seeming to react as you whimpered slightly. “She’s alive!!” He rang out dramatically like a deranged person, the gun pushing so hard against your head it tilted it a bit. Your chest rising and falling with each harsh breath you took, your eyes looked up at him and fear gripped at your heart. Trying to move your hands so that you could slap him, but you were bound to the chair your ankles and wrist by rope.

“Oh yes, I thought of it all. See, I’m going to make you taught. I’m going to get a whole lot out of you today miss. I will make sure you say something.” Jimin purred gently. He let the gun slowly drift down your face towards your neck, over your collarbones and to your breast. The barrel running against each of your nipples before he moved the gun down the dip of your breast towards your stomach. He smirked watching you, watching how your breath became staggered your eyes opening wider in fear. He was enjoying this a bit too much. The barrel of the gun continued to slide until it was resting against your center. He rubbed it up and down your pussy and you wanted to jerk your hips away but you couldn’t move you couldn’t go anywhere. “Does my baby girl like that?” He teased you with a chuckle.

“GO TO HELL!” You shouted at him, tears driving down your cheeks as you gritted your teeth watching him. Jimin didn’t like that. Gripping at the gun he pressed it under your chin making your eyes lock with his as he responded to you.

“I’m taking a first class trip there and I’m fucking taking you with me.” He snarled in your face before he pulled back. Jimin moved behind you and all you could hear was steps. Your hands tried to jerk harder at the chair but it was no use, it was not moving in your favor. You saw the back of him as he sat up the camera turning it on. Your eyes moving to look at the single mattress that was on the floor. You didn’t know how you didn’t see it but the toys, so many toys. You felt your stomach tighten because you knew what was coming.

Jimin moved once he had everything set up he walked towards you, quickly undoing your arms, and when he bent down to undo your legs you lounged at him, knocking him down you both wrestled for quite some time because he had taught you how to fight. It took a few more minutes, of your hands slapping across his face and you almost elbowing him in the groin for Jimin to punch you in your stomach, not enough to hurt you just enough to make you lose your breath. He gripped at your leg pulling you towards the mattress and you fought at him, trying to get free.

“LET ME GO!” You shouted at him and he shook his head looking back at you.

“You don’t get to talk to me now.” He said with a icy stare until he had you on the bed. Jimin made quick work of undressing you and leaving you naked, your arms bound behind your back once again he had you on your knees looking up at him waiting. “Fuck you look so good like this bunny.” He said that one word, that one fucking word that you longed to hear him call you. It was a different pet name and it always made you wet, even right now despite you wanting to beat the hell out of him and run away to never be seen again. Jimin chuckled, his eyes were hot on you glued with lust, he wanted to devour you right then and there. He walked behind you before he pushed you forwards with your ass in the air slapping at your cheeks he groaned. He spread your ass cheeks apart licking a strip from your pussy all the way up to your tight anal entrance circling his tongue around you. You gasped out in pleasure, before your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip and you told yourself not to moan no matter what he did to you. Jimin seeing this, reached beside the bed grabbing at the baby oil he managed to bring with him. Letting both of your cheeks go he poured the oil on your ass. Making it a wet mess, rubbing in the oil and leaving it to not soak in your skin, he lifted his hand landing a harsh slap to your left ass cheek. He did it over and over again on both cheeks, until the skin was reddened and bruised with his hands prints in your skin. Jimin was letting his sadistic side come out to play.

Grabbing at some warming lube, he rubbed the substance on his fingers, trailing them to your slit he used two to rub harshly up and down your wet throbbing slit smirking as he felt how wet you were by all that was happening to you. Your hips responded so well despite your words of not wanting it. Jimin knew your secrets well so he knew you loved every moment of this fantasy. Moving to grip at a small silver bullet attached to a remote Jimin tapped the bullet against your clit using the remote to turn the settings on the medium one, watching your head roll back as you tried to stop a cry of pleasure from leaving your lips. He moved to stand in front of you, pulling you up by your hair he pressed your face to his clothed crouch. He moaned feeling your face against the hardened bulge that was aching to feel you after so long. He rutted his hips against your face, until you bit at his member harshly a cry of pleasure falling from his lips as he tore you away from his throbbing member with a glare down at you. The grip on your hair made you whimper, the murderous look in his eyes did nothing but aid you into your first orgasm of the night and a short cry feel from your lips.

“I never told you to cum you fucking bitch, and I never told you to bite me. But since you want to do what you think is best. How about we see how many times I can make you cum?” He asked rhetorically. Reaching down to grab the remote he turned it on higher causing the bullet to go to work on your clit making it pulse and causing your pussy to slip out more juices that landed on the mattress. Jimin pulled back to take off his clothes bit by bit until he was naked and his dick was pressing against the bottom of his stomach leaking and red.

He moved to grip at your hair again. “Open your mouth.” He commanded pressing your head against his shaft. When you didn’t obey he only chuckled in response. “It’s time to break you again.” He leaned down grabbing at the gun pressing it against your forehead, it caused an immediate reaction from you. “Open. Your fucking mouth.” Jimin commanded, and since he had never used a gun on you before you were indeed a little worked up. And wondering why the hell it still made you wet. You opened your mouth for him, and he slid the gun into your mouth against your tongue as he watched you. “My sweet sweet bunny. Don’t make me use this. I’m going to fuck this pretty little face of yours ok? And if you even graze your teeth too hard against my shaft. I will fucking end you right here. Don’t play with me, you know how I can get when I don’t get what I want.” Jimin pouted moving the gun from your parted lips that stayed open. He guided his cock into your wet warm mouth a low groan falling from his lips. He watched you through hooded eyes, his hips snapping forward gently to bury his cock deeper into your mouth each time.

He was so thick, it had been a while since he face fucked you, and here you were trying not to choke every time he reached the back of your throat. Jimin pulled back to press the gun on the mattress by him so that he could reach it if he needed to. Both hands gripping at your hair he fist it, gripping on the strands so tight you knew you’d have a headache later. He started to face fuck you harder, his cock brushing to bury itself down your throat he didn’t care that your eyes were burning with tears as he stretched out your mouth. Your throat burned and your body convulsed again as your second orgasm rippled through you. Crying out it only vibrated around him as he watched you. Spit dripping down your parted lips onto your chin and your breast he snarled. “You’re such a fucking dirty little slut aren’t you? Look how fucked your face is because you can’t handle my cock. It’s been so long you’re making a fucking mess. That little pussy hurts yet hmm? Does it feel good to be overstimulated my little bunny? My dirty little fucking whore, you’re going to be in for a good surprise from daddy tonight. You are just so-“ He let out a string of curses, fucking your face harder his balls slapping on your chin getting wet by your spit he continued to bury your mouth on his shaft. One hand letting you go so that he could pinch your nose and cut off your air he slowed his hips down, watching you he would slide his cock all the way down your throat, hold it there and pull away when he heard you choke and gag.

He kept it up, and your heart was racing in your chest, body rocking and hips rutting against the bullet lulling against your clit you felt like a ruined slut and it felt so fucking good to have Jimin treating you like this. You watched him with more tears streaming down your eyes, full on sobbing at the moment you took more for him. He moved to slide his cock all the way down your throat, cutting off your air completely you choked again, eyes shutting for a moment as the air left your body and your hips jerked harshly forward signaling your third orgasm. Jimin pulled back releasing his hold from your nose to grip at his cock watching you lose yourself. He jerked off his wet shaft, pumping his hardened cock until strings of thick white cum was painting your face in a mess. He cursed out loud watching as he gave you a facial at a perfect angle for the camera to catch it all. When he was done he let you go, watching your body fall forward he smirked proud at how you were ruined. His cock twitching again and he was still hard.

Jimin moved behind you, spreading your legs wide he leaned down to push his tongue into your tight little asshole tongue fucking you impatiently he tried to stretch you out as much as possible. Your hips were moving, and you were still sobbing against the mattress the feeling of his wet tongue buried in your ass only made you lose your breath, looking up at the camera you groaned shuddering in uttermost pleasure. Jimin pulled back and aligned himself with your asshole, pushing himself into your ass quickly to get the pain over with. He held your hips, spreading your legs wide he reached over your body to grab at a black whip. He poured some oil on your back, as he pulled back and slipped back inside of you he started to whip your back causing you to shudder under him crying out at the mixture of both the pleasure and the pain. You could feel his hips connecting with yours, balls hitting your pussy he was fucking you into the mattress with all he had. The whipping on your back didn’t hurt you, it just caused little shocks to run through your body and you couldn’t handle it along with the vibrations on your clit. Your hips was rutting again and you knew from how your body was betraying you that you would come again. Jimin dropped the whip, reaching to grip at your head, he used two fingers from each of his hands, lifting a leg up to plant his foot into the mattress he fucked harder into you snapping his hips forward and his kept your mouth spread wide open to hear your cries of pleasure, the position being both humiliating to you and a quite turn on.

“Do you like this slut? You like feeling me buried in this tight little asshole of yours? Maybe I should have fucked this more often. It grips my cock so nice and tight and you take me so fucking good inside of here. Look at how you cry for me, begging for more. Wanting me to fill you all the way up don’t you because you’re my little cum slut that’s what you are. Look at this ass bouncing on my hips. You fucking love every second of this.” He egged you on loving to see the way your body arched when you were close to another orgasm. He kept pounding into you, to feel the vice like grip off your asshole around him while he was pounding into you until you were cumming again body going limb in his hold.

“No more! Please Jimin no more!” You cried out as you felt another orgasm ripple through you. It was painful, and you knew without a doubt you had never cum so much. Pretty soon there would be nothing left. Jimin pulled out of you after letting you ride out your orgasm, He flipped you on your stomach spreading your legs wide he removed the vibrator from your clit turning the bullet off. You thought he was done and you felt instant relief until he was pushing his cock until your drenched wet walls.

“N-no Jimin please please please- I can’t cum anymore.” You begged him, eyes half hooded and lips parted you took deep breaths trying to calm yourself down. Jimin was not listening to anything you had to say. Gripping at your hips he started to pull out of you only to push in deeper inside of you.

His eyes remained on yours, his hips circling as he concentrated on how tight your pussy was, he missed it. All of it. He hands gently rubbed at your hips in a comforting manner, basking in your little tiny whimpers Jimin took his time pounding inside of you. Your pussy could feel all of him, the outline of his cock, his hard veins grazing at your walls. How thick he was, how he was throbbing just by being inside of you. It felt so good, and though you were sore you welcomed all that he gave you. You watched him, as he ground his hips deep into you, barely pulling back he drove himself as deep as he could inside of you.

“I’m sorry.” He moaned out watching you and you shook your head no, not wanting to forgive him at a time like this. “I’m sorry for all the hurt I did to you.” He moaned as he started to move faster. “I’m sorry for not being around.” He mumbled out letting his hips gently graze against your spot. “I’m sorry for making you feel like shit.” He paused his hips, staying connected to you, he reached his arms down to wrap around your lower back, lifting you up so that you were straddling him as he started to grip your hips tighter dropping you down on him reaching your depth a bit better. “I’m sorry for making your cry.” He continued leaning up to latch his lips onto your nipples sucking on each of them, he bounced you harder on him, his hands soon reaching to grip at your plump ass as he ran his tongue up and down your hardened nipples humming. “I’m sorry for not opening up or saying I love you enough.” He continued to moan against your skin. You were swimming with emotions, and the tears sliding down your face were all from different reasons. “I’m sorry you felt you didn’t matter. And I’m sorry for standing you up.” He paused your hips holding you in the air Jimin harshly snapped his hips up pounding against your spot he fucked you in the air causing you to cry out. “Say you forgive me.” He urged as you shook your head no. It felt so good, he was fucking your spot right and you were going to cum so soon. Your stomach convulsing you rolled your head back but Jimin stopped slowing down you shouted out looking at him. Knowing what he wanted by the look in his eyes you gave in because, some part of you knew he deserved to hear those words.

“I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment. It was childish! I love you Jimin, fuck I love you so much ok? But if you don’t let me cum I’m leaving your ass for good.” You threatened him. That was all it took to have a crooked smile pressed against his lips. He let his hips surge upwards burying himself to the hilt he fucked you hard and fast, the only sounds being heard were the wet sounds of your pussy combined with the pants and moans from both of you. It didn’t take him long to have you cumming on his cock, your stomach clenching as your eyes screwed shut and lips fell open. Jimin watched the look of pain and pleasure wash through your face. It had taken everything he had not to cum before you did, but here and now he was meeting his end with you letting his white load bury deep into your walls. Jimin continued to bounce you on his cock until you were both satisfied. He pulled out of you slowly resting you on his chest he undid your wrist freeing you finally. Silence echoed throughout the room as his hands rubbed up and down your back.

“You remembered.” You said simply talking about the force fantasy you’ve always had for some time now.

“How could I forget? I was so against doing it. I had never seen you so upset for telling me a secret. I vowed to myself I would save it, for a drastic measurement. And this was that.” Jimin started with a sheepish laugh, his voice still husky due to the intense moment you both just had. “I saw the house listings when you didn’t log out of the computer..” Jimin said after sometime looking up at the ceiling. “God, it had just been us for so long. I just thought you’d never leave no matter what I did. I didn’t apologize. Because I was just being stupid. Angry around here and taking it out on you. It didn’t hit me I’d lose you until I saw that. I was scared… For the first time since I lost my father you made me scared.” Jimin admitted looking down at you. Your eyes locked with his and you couldn’t help but kiss him, because that was something you both hadn’t shared yet today. A long deep passionate kiss with tongues gliding against each other until no one had any breath.

“I was going to leave you. But part of me keep holding onto you. Even when I thought this was real. That I’d actually get kidnapped. All I wanted was you Jimin. I kept asking myself, would you know or care? And it worried me to think, that I was being childish instead of talking to you about it. I’ll never let it happen again.” You said with a sincere smile.

“Good, because I don’t think I can ever pull a gun on you again. I don’t want you to ever fear me. I’m here to make your life a whole lot of things. But have fear is not one.” Jimin reassured you before he wiggled his eyes rolling you over. “I know I said one more but. I’m not satisfied yet. And I owe you lots of makeup sex.” He teased kissing down your body eliciting groans from your lips, but you made no move to leave the beasts presence.

The View (m)

Summary: When a supposed bath for one leads to something a little more fun.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: PWP, exhibition kink, dirty talk, teasing, oral sex
Rating: M
Word Count: 4218

Originally posted by dream-bts


The tub is full, water sloshing over the sides any time either of you move an inch however, neither of you give a second glance at the liquid building up on the tiled floor. You both are too preoccupied with each other.

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Can’t Get It Out Of My Head (Peter Quill x Reader)

Originally posted by bukcybarnes

For @ravingmadstark to whom I’ve owed this since January. 

In which you slow dance with the one and only Star-Lord. (insp.)


He so desperately wanted to be called Star-Lord, but everyone called him Quill. Except for you. You preferred to use Peter, and maybe that was why he fell in love so hard. Rarely did anyone address him without a tinge of sarcasm or playful banter in their voice—something he was very guilty of reciprocating—but when you spoke to him, he felt validated in ways he never knew he could. You gave him a sense of responsibility. A feeling of warmth and excitement. A drive in life, fueled not by a desire for the admiration of others, but rather, a need to make you feel the same way he did. Happy.

Your initial glimpse of Peter was the day of Ronan’s defeat. Hair disheveled. Clothes torn. Face scratched up. He was dancing to a song you’d never heard, and your entire body reacted. It tingled and shook from your toes, to your heart strings, up your throat, to your brain where the sensation settled, leaving only one thought. Shit.  You’d gone through life thinking love at first sight was nothing more than a myth. But there you were. In love. Or something like it. You were stubborn when it came to things like that, so you chalked it up to lust—somehow that felt more dignified.

There was alcohol involved in your first encounter. That was always how these things seemed to go. The big hero, off to celebrate at a local bar; you, the plain civilian, coincidentally at the same place, standing in a corner.  Music was playing, but the melodies were foreign, and you could only assume that they were his. Most of them were upbeat, but occasionally things would slow down a little, and that’s when he shined the brightest. He’d move about the room fluidly, pulling the other patrons close. Dipping them, spinning them, pressing his body against theirs. Leaving a trail of longing eyes in his wake. You couldn’t help but feel jealous, but at the same time, you were grateful. Unless you were alone in the safety of your room, dancing was not your forte. And so you nursed your drink and watched.

He moved closer and you got a better look at his face, confirming that he was the most unrealistically handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. It was the sort of thing that held a hypnotic element, capturing your eyes and refusing to let them free of his spell. The sappiness of it all was enough to make you inwardly wretch, but as the gap in proximity closed, it became harder to deny fact.

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The Signs with a Broken Heart

This post is essentially based on my/my friends’ real life experiences.I’ll also try to include some advice how to get over this struggle. Your Sun & Venus Signs matter!

I think that today, after having written some love posts, I had to think about those who spent this day alone, because they are comfortable with it, because they don’t need anyone, or maybe because their heart isn’t healed enough to start dating again. And it’s totally fair. Heartbreak is way too underrated lately in my opinion, we think about those with a sickness, we think about those who are poor, we say that as long as you are healthy, have a place to sleep, have something to eat, you must be happy, but sometimes an emotional wound is a lot harder to heal than a physical one. When you love someone, they become the most important part of your life. You share your days with them, you miss them, you decide where to go for a dinner together because you want them to be happy too, you basically change your whole lifestyle to fit theirs. And then if one day, they decide to take their love away, it feels like only half of your life is left and you ask yourself questions how it’s possible to make it stop just like that, from one minute to another. This is why it’s so hard to get over a broken heart. And sometimes it’s even worse to lose someone who never even was yours. You start questioning everything, why does life play such a prank on you and makes you meet them, like them, fall in love and all this for nothing, because they don’t share your feelings. A person questioning themselves, thinking that they aren’t good enough for a person they love, that someone else is and they aren’t, is probably one of the most hurtful feelings.

So here’s how I see the signs being hurt and hopefully this will help a few of you. Not because you will read this post and your pain will suddenly go away, no way, I just want you to know that there’s always someone to understand exactly how you feel, that you’re not alone.

ARIES:

As an Aries, you can be very emotional, but real feelings don’t reach you too often. Quite careless in your young years, you might be attracted to people physically, like them in different ways, call it love, feel sadness about losing them, but only the pain of a broken heart will tell you it was real. Because 

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Blue Skies and Possibilities (Lin/Reader Soulmate AU)

Summary: In a world where you can only see color once you make physical contact with your soulmate, you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Fate has other plans.

Word Count: 8642

Note: Thank you to @the-real-tony-stank for reading this ahead of time and being so sweet and to @thatoneimaginesblog for giving me a cute idea that pops up in here and putting up with a lot of Lin pictures while this got written.


You were in the forest again.

There was light streaming through the trees, and the vivid color of the leaves told you that you were dreaming. You felt a flutter in your stomach and smiled to yourself. If there was color, that meant he would be here. You let your instincts take over and walked swiftly in the direction the creek you’d visited so many times before.

There he was, just like you knew he’d be. He turned to you with a boyish smile on his face and you felt like you had just gotten home after a long trip away. You didn’t have a name to attach to the color of his eyes, but you knew they were deep and familiar. He held out a hand to you and you grabbed it, never knowing how much time you’d have here. Tonight was a lucky one. You spent what felt like an entire summer in the woods, neither of you speaking but somehow communicating anyway.

When you heard a buzzing in the distance, you knew your time was up. You held tight to his hand, but the world around you faded anyway. The feeling of his fingers laced with yours was the last thing to slip away.

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Love Always Wakes the Dragon

(and suddenly flames everywhere)

It could be worse. You do have all the luxuries befitting a princess, though one charged with treason. But a gilded cage is still a cage. And the prospect of withering away in this, the tallest tower of the Palace of Asgard, in the same place where your once-betrothed will live and marry and rule from, it’s almost too much to bear.


author: buckysbackpackbuckle
pairing: Thor x Jotun!Reader
word count: 4067
warnings: brat prince Thor, unprotected sex, oral sex, hair pulling, choking

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“Platonic” Bed-sharing: A Snowbaz Fic

In which there is much Snowbaz fluff. 

Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!


“Snow. No”

“Snow yes!”

Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.

The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.

“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.

He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.

“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.

“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”

It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.

“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”

Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.

“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”

That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.

“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.

Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.

“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”

Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.

“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.

Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.

Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.

Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?

This would certainly be a long night.

Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.

“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.

“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”

“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”

Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.

“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”

Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.

This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay.  Baz thought.

He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.

Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.

Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.

A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.

“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.

It was a mistake.

Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.

Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.

“Baz. Why are we like this?”

“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.

The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.

“Why do we hate each other?”

Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.

“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume. 

He was getting annoyed.

Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.

This was a mistake.

Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”

“Welcome to the real world.”

“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.

He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.

“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.

Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.

“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”

Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.

“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.

“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.

Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.

Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.

“S-simon?” He managed.

“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”

“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”

Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.”

They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?

Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.

Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.

Physically and mentally, he froze.

Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.

Why did Simon care about him?

Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?

Why were they holding hands in a bed?

What the fuck was happening?

Why were they not kissing?

They should kiss.

He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.

“Simon?” He whispered.

“Kiss me.” Simon whispered back.

And he did.

It is never truly wrong to crave love from someone. No one ever said that it was a mistake to fall in love with someone you know who won’t feel the same way towards you. They call it unconditional love when you don’t expect anything in return. Selfless. Brave. When you accept that feelings sometimes will not be mutual. Yet I hope that you should be willing to give the same kind of love to yourself. That even if you did a lot of mistakes, you resist the urge to hate yourself. Instead, I hope that you forgive yourself and learn from lessons you will meet along the way. Because that needs a lot of patience, kindness and courage my dear. Loving yourself even if the world tells you not to. Forgiving yourself even if other people say you don’t need to. Being kind to yourself even if you sometimes think you can’t. Darling, this is what you should always remember, especially when you feel like everything around you seems to kill every little piece of you. Do not ever forget that you deserve love, more especially from yourself. Do not let your light fade away. Stars are there with a purpose. And so are you. Shine brighter. Live.
—  ma.c.a // Self love

A thing you probably don’t know about me is that sometimes I get in this mood where I don’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment binge-watching House, M.D. for several days at a time. I was on ep 2.15, “Clueless,” AKA that one where Wilson crashes at House’s place for a while, when inspiration struck and this Sterek drabble happened. Or… It’s almost 2k words, so maybe it’s a bit more than a drabble, BUT it’s still a drabble in spirit. (Rated T.)

It’s almost midnight when Derek finally shoulders on his coat, locks his office door, and steps out, only to spot Stiles crouched in front of the vending machine at the end of the hall, whacking the glass with the heel of his palm and muttering darkly.

Derek can’t just ignore him; he never can. (It’s a bit of a problem, and everyone in the hospital seems to know it, except for Stiles.) Before he knows it, he’s changed tracks and walked right over. “What are you still doing here?”

Stiles sits back on his heels to look up at him. “Bob ate my dollar and I’m feeling petty so I’m trying to get it back.”

“Bob?” Derek asks, a split second before he remembers that Stiles named the vending machine. It’s just this kind of thing that makes Derek feel guilty for sometimes looking at Stiles’ mouth a little too long, or pausing to let his eyes follow Stiles’ progress down the hall. Stiles isn’t a kid or anything, but he’s still only 26 to Derek’s 32, and he’s still got a year of residency to go. A lot of times, like when he’s jamming out to his iPod while he looks over lab work or doing stupid stuff like naming the vending machines, he seems to Derek more like a college kid than a grown man with a medical license and a house and a girlfriend.

Stiles goes back to hitting the vending machine, and Derek remembers why he originally came over here. “Didn’t your shift end at 7?”

Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek tries very, very hard not to imagine him making that same face in certain… other contexts. “What, you got my schedule memorized now, Dr. Hale? I’m flattered.”

It would make Derek’s life a lot easier if so much of what Stiles said didn’t come out sounding so flirtatious. Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting.”

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it's you (that makes my heart beat)

The first letter appears when she is thirteen. She feels a burning sensation on her wrist, panic flaring at the sudden pain but it quickly turns to excitement when she sees the ink form into the shape of a T.


She shows her parents, happy at the thought of soon meeting her soulmate. The first thing she does is Google names with the letter T.


She’s fourteen when she meets Ty. He hasn’t gotten any letters yet and she’s not quite sure she loves him, yet. But it could be him. They date, she kisses him, she feels empty.


She asks her mom how she felt when she met her dad and She deflates when the lovesick poetic description of feeling complete and ethereal love. She’s never felt like that with Ty.


She’s fifteen and She knows it’s not him, he knows it’s not her. She hates the way his eyes light up when he meets her friend (teammate), Amanda. And she hates the look that mirrors Amanda. And they both still don’t have any letters but they are hanging out all the time. It doesn’t bother her until they start excluding her. It’s then when she no longer can live in denial.


It’s petty, she’s jealous and she does something stupid.


She sends the picture to Ty and it all comes crashing down. They fight, she can’t remember what’s said but she knows it’s harsh but what kills her is when he shows her the A on his wrist. But it’s what he says afterwards that completely breaks her.


“Hopefully you never meet your soulmate because you don’t deserve them.”


And it angers her so much because it’s true. She knocks his tooth out (they put it back).


That night a R appears after the T. It’s bittersweet she thinks as she feels asleep with tears in her eyes. She uses her watch to cover her wrist after that day and vows tip forget about her soulmate. 



Trini’s twelve when she gets the K. It’s bittersweet. 


She’s sitting at the dining table with her parents when she starts to feel like someone is dragging a razor across her skin. She lifts her sleeve up and jumps in astonishment as black ink begins to form a letter. Her parents watch in excitement with her and when the letter becomes clear they start spouting off names with the letter K; Kevin, Kyle, Karl. Trini’s heart breaks a little because she knows (hopes) that the name will be different. 


She thinks of Katie the cute girl who sits in front of her in English. Of Keisha who always smiles at her in the hallways. She wishes she could tell her parents. She wishes she could be honest. She wishes her parents would understand when she’s ready.


She brings Katie over for a study date. Katie who still hasn’t gotten any letters but has seen the K on her wrist and smiles often at her. Sometime later Katie leans over and lands a peck on her lips. Trini feels her face heat up. They go back to studying even though Trini can’t concentrate anymore. She can’t stop thinking about Katie’s soft lips. She can’t stop thinking about how nice it felt. She’s not sure if Katie is her soulmate but she wouldn’t mind kissing her again. 


They’ve been together for almost a year and Trini thinks she’s in love, she believes they might be soulmates. She feels the happiest she’s ever been. She still hasn’t told her parents but the suspicious looks her mother gives her makes her insides hurt. 


It’s when she’s thirteen that her world falls apart.


Katie comes in and She can tell that the girl is trying to contain her excitement but she’s bubbling with energy.


“I got my first letter.” Trini can tell the girl is trying (and failing) to sound disappointed.


It feels like her heart stutters. Katie reveals her wrist and a D is there flaring back at her.


“I’m sorry. Good luck with finding your soulmate.”


Trini never looks back up. Katie leaves and she doesn’t move. She feels empty in a way that it hurts. For the next week she refuses to go to school, refuses to answer her parents’ concerned questions and only eats the bare minimum. 


She gets an I following the K after that. But she’s numb, she doesn’t care. She could get a full name and still not be sure that she has found her soulmate. So many people share the same name. She’s not going to get hurt again. 


They move a month later.


She’s fourteen when her parents bring over Kaleb from church. She hates him. Hates the way his shirt is tucked into his jeans all nice and proper, hates how he addresses her parents as sir and ma'am, hates how he keeps trying to discreetly (and fails) glance at her bracelet covered wrist. She sees the T on his wrist and almost feels sorry for him. She ignores him throughout dinner as her parents encourage (push) her to converse with him.


“You’re wasting your time.” Trini finally mumbles without looking up but the silence that follows tells her that the whole table heard.


Her mother excuses her little brothers who take the chance and run to their room.


“I’m not your soulmate.” She finally looks at the boy.  She shows him her wrist, the two letters causing a delusury burning (she wishes she could rip her skin off), relief crosses his face and Trini scoffs.


“What are you waiting for, you know where the door is?” She pushes her plate away, not that she has ate much.  


“Trini that’s no way to treat our guest.” Her mom scolds her with a glare as Kaleb shifts uncomfortably in his seat, itching to get out of this place (just like Trini). 


“Why didn’t you tell us?” Her father presses gently.


It’s eating at her and if she holds it any longer she’ll drown. It comes from the back of her throat before she can think of the repercussions.


“Because I’m gay!”


Kaleb leaves after that. Her nightmares come true, her mom starts yelling at her amd she sits their unresponsive which only serves to fuel her mother’s anger. She yells at her for embarrassing her in front of a guest, for hiding things, and for saying nonsense. But what hurts more than her mother’s anger is the silence and look of disappointment from her father.


They move within three days.


The silence continues on her behalf. She didn’t think it could hurt more. But then her mother starts spouting off names again. Kirk, Killian, Kile. She starts avoiding dinners.


It’s not hard to find someone who deals. She does it to piss her mom off. She does it to forget. To feel something other than pain. The first time she smokes weed she has a coughing fit and wonders how the hell someone can like this shit. But eventually she gets the hang of it. She’s floating in a euphoric high, nothing can touch her.


Her vice (escape) only lasts a few months before her mom catches her. Finds a joint while snooping through her stuff. They threaten to send her to rehab. They move again.


Her mother’s questions continue but now a monthly urine test is added to the conversations. She stops if just to get her mother off her back. But she wonders what her  next vice will be.


At times when she’s showering, she considers grabbing the razor and dragging it across her wrist destroying the letters that only seem to bring her problems. But she can never being herself to do it.


She considers getting a tattoo to cover it. She knows a guy who’ll do it even though she’s a minor. She makes an appointment, shows up. It’s really sketchy, in his living room but he pulls out a brand new clean needle but before he can bring the needle to her skin she retracts. She needs to know the full mame first, know that her mother is wrong and that she’s not confused.


But she feels bad wasting this guys time so instead she opts for something different. She ends up getting a black and yellow sabre tooth tiger on her left shoulder. She knows her parents would kill her if they ever find out but that thought encourages her to go through with it. It stings in a way similar to when she got her letters.


She’s fifteen when her parents decide to move again. Destination: Angel Grove.


She doesn’t hate it as much as she thought she would. Her new vice becomes tai chi and heavy metal.


Not long after she turns 15 she gets her third letter. She sitting in the back row of her biology classroom when the familiar stinging sensation bolts her from her thoughts. The letter M appears and her breath catches as she glances up to look at the girl sitting a few seats ahead of her. Former head cheerleader fallen from grace, that’s as much as Trini knows.


It could be her or there could be different name on the girl’s wrist. Trini doesn’t want to know. 


She books it from class as soon as the bell rings and heads for the cliff. She runs, what’s the point of knowing her soulmate if her parents will force her to move eventually.


That night she meets the group of misfits. She thinks she dies but somehow wakes up alive and well in her bed the next morning. She wonders for a few minutes which option would’ve been better.


The day gets weirder but besides getting pulled over a cliff by none other than Kimberly Hart, the girl does not seem to act any different around her. Trini buries the disappointment and deems that the girl is not her soulmate.


And that thought is what makes her not run away and actually form a cautious friendship with Kimberly. Any doubts she has quickly fade, being around Kim is easy. She hasn’t felt quite is relaxed like this in a long time. She thinks she doesn’t need her soulmate when she has her friends, when she has Kim.



Kim can’t help but think it would be so easy if Jason Scott was her soulmate. He’s caring and kind but she has absolutely no romantic feelings for him. She has a T and an R on her wrist, and he has a W on one wrist and a Z on the other. He doesn’t talk about it, she doesn’t ask but she tells him everything and it helps that he forgives her for what she’s done considering she still hasn’t managed to forgive herself.


She grows closer to the rangers but closer to Trini. The girl whose like a grumpy cat but if she likes you, you’re one of the lucky ones. She’s not sure when it happens but they’re at the donut shop and it hits her. She doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 


Rita happens and she doesn’t have much time to dwell on her feelings. She hasn’t felt anger as heavy as when she sees the marks on Trini’s neck and she knows that when she gets the chance she’ll make Rita regret ever laying a hand on Trini.


Billy dies, Billy comes back to life and Rita gets bitch slapped into space. Things seem to finally be settling down.


They are all still friends and Trini’s still there. Kim can’t help but think how lucky she is to have her in her life, and she’ll do whatever she can to deserve her friendship.


A few weeks after the Goldar incident and Kim finds herself sitting on Trini’s couch for a Netflix marathon. Trini’s parents are out of town visiting family for the weekend and the boys had plans to work on Jason’s truck, which makes Kim glad she can spend some alone time with Trini.


3 things happen at once.


One: Trini reaches leans forward towards the popcorn and her sleeveless shirt shifts and Kimberly catches sight of yellow and black saber tooth tiger on her left shoulder. She feels her mouth go dry, stomach tighten and a slight throb between her legs. Her face heats up as she realizes she’s turned on by discovering that Trini has a tattoo. It hits her that she’s attracted to her best friend.


Two: the familiar burning sensation on her wrist comes. She moves her watch slightly to see a new letter begin to form. An I. Her heartbeat is so loud she hears it thumping in her ears. It’s like being thrown in cold water and she wonders how she never considered the possibility that the girl in front of her could be her soulmate. She looks at Trini and wonders if she knows, if she has any letters. It’s that moment that all the feelings she has been experiencing lately begin to make sense.


Three: as Trini reaches for the popcorn bowl her bracelets on her left hand shift and Kimberly catches sight of the three letters marking the skin. She freezes and her blood runs cold. Thoughts race through her head. Trini knew and never told her and there has to be a reason for that. She doesn’t want her, why else keep it a secret.


She goes through a rollercoaster of emotions in the span of a few seconds. Arousal, joy, (it’s a goal high) and then the hurt (a goal low). And it really fucking hurts knowing that your soulmate doesn’t want you, that you don’t deserve them.


She stands abruptly, the tv control falling to the wooden floor with a clash.


“Kim?” Trini turns to her with worry.


She runs.