because miles was all he got and what he took for granted

Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀


The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 


Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

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currents | (m)

Originally posted by osyub

pairing: jung hoseok x reader
genre/warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst (this is low-key cute and sad at the same time, my heart)
words: 5,959
summary: you’ve been in a long-distance friendship with Hoseok for a couple of years, hiding feelings that you think he may also reciprocate. What happens when you finally cross paths with him again…
note. based on a request. Named after this song here. Also, periods of italics indicate the characters are speaking English!

a/n: by the way, who’s shocked I managed to write something under 6k…Has this ever happened before?! Also, this is really different for me because I don’t usually like writing so close to reality, but I loved the idea so much, I had to write it!

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No Parachute

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2.230

Summary: Bucky just doesn’t need a parachute 

Warning: fluff

A/N: Hi you beautiful people! I’m still alive! heh. I’m still drowning in my thesis, but I didn’t like leaving you all with nothing so I wrote you this one! Hope you like it, feedback is always greatly appreciated. I love you all so much, and thank you for the continuous support. *big bear hug to you all*

“He did what?!”

“He jumped o-”

“I heard you the first time, I just.. he did what?!

Steve gave you a half smile, approaching you slowly to give you a reassuring hug but you held up your hand to stop him and he did. Glaring at him, he held up his hands in surrender and let you walk around him and down to the medical bay.

“Y/N, printsessa how are you today?” Pietro stepped in front of you, stopping you in your quest. Narrowing your eyes, you sent him a death glare that was cold as ice within a second he was out of your way.

When you finally reached the door to the medical bay Tony appeared. You groaned and tried walking around him but he stepped in front of you. Smiling like nothing was wrong. You glared at him.

“That look might work on everyone else, but not me, kiddo,” he smiled teasingly and went to ruffle your hair, you slapped his hand away.

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Good Boy, Stevie // Steve Rogers x Reader (P1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x POC Reader, a tiny bit WinterWidow and ScarletVision
Word Count: 3.7k+
Warning: Language, fluff, Slooow burn, Sub!Steve, Dominant Reader  
Summary: Steve discovers he really enjoys you on top and in control. Pietro and Sam find out a little more about Bucky Barnes than they ever wanted to know. Wanda is a surprising supporter of *ahem* kinky things.

A/N: You really thought I was going to leave you hanging on ‘Oh Captain!’ like that? I’m not that sadistic. Okay…maybe I am but this story practically begged me to write it. Who am I to refuse?

Originally posted by luvinchris

Previously on Oh Captain: Good Boy, Stevie //Part 2

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Search for Loneliness Part2

Hi people! This is part two to the one shot called Search for Loneliness which is the first one on my blog. I think you can read this even if you haven’t read part1 and still get the plot. Hope you enjoy! 
Huge thanks to the person who requested Part1 and to my friend @interfectorems for the patience and help!

Plot: Harry broke Y/N’s heart. But how come he misses her now?

Warnings: May hint on sex and includes curse words. 

Pic isn’t mine. 

Harry was awoken by soft kisses being peppered across the warm skin of his shoulder and a low groan fell from his mouth. Images of a girl flashed before his eyes and a lazy smile forced its way onto his face, happiness flooding through his entire body.
She was here.
Y/N’s smooth fingertips were drawing over his tattoos and Harry took a deep breath, wanting to fill all his senses with her, all of what was her. His muscles relaxed beneath her soft touches and his heart thumbed heavenly full with emotion in his chest. Y/N had come back to him. Or maybe it was him who’d never left? Or…
Strange. She smelled differently than he remembered. And her hair was softer. In fact, now that he thought about it, the tender touches he was receiving could in no way be coming from his Y/N. Y/N hadn’t ever drawn over his tattoos, but rather along them, touching his bare, uncovered skin rather than the inked one. It was only a faint difference, but the moment he started paying attention to it he couldn’t ignore how drastically wrong this felt.
His heart fell and his stomach knotted. There was still the same distance between Y/N and him as there had been last night. And the day before. The week.
Harry rolled onto his side, successfully disconnecting the foreign girl’s touch from his body without even looking at her and got to his feet so quickly his head felt dizzy.

“Breakfast?” his raspy voice muttered, but he was out of the bedroom before his visitor could complain about his unfriendly manners or give an answer to his question.


“Yes, Gem, I’m aware of that.” Harry rolled his eyes at his sister’s lectures about how he’d missed another family dinner and pressed the phone closer to his ear. “It must have slipped my mind. M'sorry.”

“You seem to have very little room in that mind of yours lately,” his sister remarked, “We’ve all seen what might be occupying all the space. How is you’re new mysterious women doing?”

“S'no mystery,” he replied slowly, “And s'not very serious.”

She hummed, indicating that she clearly didn’t buy it. “When did you decide Y/N was to be out of the picture?”

Harry huffed in annoyance. In moments like this he regretted ever bringing Y/N around to meet his family. If he hadn’t done that they surely wouldn’t be bothering him about her anymore.

“I had my reasons so don’t even start.”

A loud, exaggerated sigh was heard, yet she remained silent. Gemma knew her brother well enough to sense when it was best to leave him alone. She also knew when he’d spill what she wanted to hear without needing to be pushed.

“She was just… not right, you know?” he admitted.

“How so?”

Harry shrugged even though she couldn’t see, his fingers nervously switched on the tap, allowing clear water into the sink. Switch on. Switch off.  

“She couldn’t accept my life”, he explained, careful to choose his words wisely, “There were many little things she did which clearly showed how little she understood about my lifestyle and there were bigger ones. I once asked her to come to dinner with me and Kendall and she said no, not because of my past relations with her, but because she didn’t want to get into a situation where she’d be filmed for a TV show. Or because there would have been too many paps around. Same went for any other time I wanted her to meet someone remotely famous and at some point all the arguments became too much. Is adapting to my standards really too much to ask? She couldn’t just expect me to change for her or to not go out for dinner every week anymore.”

Silence. One that told him enough.

“What?” he asked annoyed.

“Why do you think I didn’t come to that yacht you rented a couple of years ago?” Gemma giggled. “I met Kendall and she’s actually quite lovely, but her presence does mean a massive amount of cameras. So do all of your other friends. I’ve got sort of used to it over the years and still hate it, so I can understand if a girl with even less experience feels frightened or intimidated by it. Just my opinion, little brother. Maybe you could have solved that issue by simply giving her more time.”

Harry swallowed hard and processed his sister’s words. More time? But weren’t five months enough to come out of your shell if that’s what your boyfriend expects of you?

Gemma went on: “If you feel happier now then I’m on your side, promise. But you need to make an effort, too, Harry. If any relationship of yours should ever lead to something, you have to get used to the thought of making an effort yourself and not just expecting the girl to do all the work.”


Harry scrolled through her Twitter page and it was strangely empty. The last phrases she’d tweeted had been posted weeks ago. Not even her favorites showed any activity and though Y/N hadn’t exactly visited her Social Media every day, this absence did appear odd. Harry couldn’t admit it to himself, but he did miss knowing what she was up to. Had she experimented with a new recipe? Had she gone to the cafe in north London she’d always wanted to visit? Had she managed to get a ticket for that gig one of her favorite musicians  had held last week? He wished he could ask her.
Deciding that this wouldn’t provide any of the desired information, Harry closed the app with a sigh and instead found himself opening the familiar app of his photo folder.
This images weren’t new, but familiar and this was something he desired just as much; the familiarity Y/N had posed that was now lost. Harry stared at the photos and was surprised how every detail of her face was still engraved into his memory, just like any face of a person he cared about was. Only that he shouldn’t feel that way for her anymore. He didn’t have the right to.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was soft and sweet and yet Harry flinched at the unexpected noise. Mia… Maya… Harry wasn’t sure which name it was exactly but after she’d stayed over for three days now he figured asking would be rude. He shut off his device and let it drop onto the coffee table before him, doing his best to appear relaxed.

“Nothing really.”

His new girl smiled and stepped closer. She was pretty. Her hair fell in long waves just below her waist and her wide eyes sparkled with a friendly curiosity for what he was up to, thought or felt. A curiosity he’d known when he had himself began developing feelings for Y/N and now was all he needed to recognize the condition the girl before him was in. She would fall for him. Soon.
Harry didn’t tense when she stepped closer and instead held out a hand for her to take, giving it a slight tug so she would swing one leg over his lap and climb up.
Harry granted her a gentle smile when he had her sitting in his lap with both slender arms wrapped around his neck, his own hands pressing against her smooth back. Maybe if she’d fall for him, he would find the perfect companion he had been dreaming for. The one Y/N had failed to be.

“Are you okay?” Mia or Maya asked with a small frown between her perfectly plucked brows.

Harry just nodded, his throat too dry to answer. Her smell invaded his senses and the sweetness of her perfume clouded his mind. His girlfriend, if that’s what she could be called, smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, expecting it to be a short one and finding herself surprised when Harry’s tongue pushed between her lips and dipped into her mouth. One of his hands moved up to press against the back of her head, keeping her from moving back while his fingers pulled at her top with a feverish desire to tore it away. A small laugh fell from her soft lips and she disconnected their kiss in order to oblige his wish and undress. Once off, she leaned in and pressed tender kisses to the side of his neck, sighing whenever his hands moved over the uncovered skin of her body.
Harry’s mind raced and his heart thumbed heavily in his chest. His lower stomach ached and his thighs felt pleasantly tingly. Soft hair brushed over his skin, warm lips placed gentle kisses and delicate hands left faint scratches on his back and stomach. He allowed his head to roll back and his eyes to fall shut.


The name left his mouth in a breathy gasp and it took the girl he was holding to shrug off his embrace before he could realize what he’d done wrong. Hurt evident in her eyes she stumbled to her feet and bent down to gather her shirt, covering her naked torso with hastily moving and shaking fingers.
Harry’s stomach turned and he shook his head, an exhausted huff leaving his mouth.
Why wouldn’t Y/N leave him alone? Even when she was miles away she could torment him like no one else ever had.
Words were shouted, but he took it with no fight and instead stayed sat in his chair as the girl before him began to cry and shake, receiving no words from him to mend her heart ache. At some point he thought she’d slapped him, his cheek, previously kissed by the same person now red and stinging. But he wasn’t sure and only noticed his guest had left when the door fell into its lock with a loud noise.


He had to call her. Y/N hadn’t left his mind in days and frankly he was quite sick of it. So many ordinary tasks had been ruined by her messing with his head. Nervousness made his heart skip and press the phone just a little closer to his ear, waiting impatiently for Y/N to pick up.


Her voice. His eyes fell shut when he heard it and his fingers tingled. She sounded calm and collected, not angry at all.
Harry cleared his throat.


Silence. He heard Y/N take in a breath. “I’m sorry, but who’s this?”

A frown took over his forehead until it dawned on him. She couldn’t have known it was Harry, he realized. In order to keep any woman he was involved with from having his private number he had it blocked at all times. He could call and text them without any of them getting his contact info. It was an old habit he’d broken for Y/N and quickly picked back up once he’d broken up with her.

“Harry,” He clarified, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Forgot about me already, have you?”

The silence following his words was nothing like the one earlier. It was as if the connection had died and Harry quickly checked to see if she’d actually ended it or not. Harry’s feet shifted and sighed.

“Y/N?” he pressed on carefully.


It was a whisper, exhausted and empty.
Harry’s heart squeezed painfully tight and he brushed the sweaty palm of his free hand against his jeans. So she really wasn’t angry, but hurt.

“Listen,” he began, “I-”

But he was already interrupted by the dreadful peeping noise and this time once he looked at his phone, her name had vanished.


His head hung low and his hands were balled into fists. Just one knock, that’s all he had to force himself to and from there she would take the lead. Every time Harry had had a problem it was her who knew just how to solve it, why should it be different now? All she’d need is him who came back long enough for her to help.
With a deep breath Harry raised his hand and let his knuckles meet the door twice. A shudder ran down his back and his throat went dry.
What would he do? What would he say?

I know I was an asshole but I flew all the way back to LA for you so please forgive me?
I can’t explain it, but I miss you.
You haven’t left my mind in weeks, no matter how much I tried.

He couldn’t blame her should she shut the door right into his face if he dared bringing any of those weak excuses. His trail of thoughts was interrupted by the wooden door opening just a slim gap, allowing the person inside to see who it was interrupting their evening.
Harry braced himself, his heart skipping in his chest and he looked up eagerly to see the face he’d missed so much more he could have been prepared for.
But it wasn’t Y/N.


Harry cleared his throat as the unexpected sight of Y/N’s friend threw him off guard. She narrowed her eyes once she realized it was in fact him and she opened the door wider, keeping hold of it to block him from entering.

“I knew you’d miss her,” she spoke, her voice nothing but unkind and empty of sympathy, “She is too good for you and I just knew you’d end up at her door once you realized that no girl you’d try replacing her with would compare.”

“Is she here?” Harry asked, ignoring the sting in his chest caused by her harsh words.
They were true in every way but his pride wasn’t going to just let him admit that.

“Yes,” Mary replied.

He paused, expecting her to say something more but she just continued to stare at him with venomous eyes.

“I need to see her,” he elaborated and took a step forward.

The gap quickly narrowed, but to his surprise Mary nodded. “The moment she calls for me to drag you back outside, I will.”

Harry nodded and pushed past Mary, entering the familiar space. He could still feel her enraged gaze on his back as his own eyes scanned the living room in search for his ex girlfriend, but she was no where.

“She’s in the bedroom.”

He uttered a thanks to the woman eyeing him and with weak knees he walked down the familiar hall and to the closed door or her bedroom, his heavy heart dropping to his stomach. He’d stood here so many times before.
Sometimes with flowers in his hands to surprise her just because she was as lovely as they were. On other days, mainly morning, he would take a moment to prepare for seeing her barely dressed and in her bed, his fingers tightening around the cups of coffee or the bag of breakfast he had gone to pick up.
Of course he also recalled the many nights where he’d stood right here, with her in his arms or hoisted up and pressed against the wood.
Never before had he stood here with fear rushing through his veins. It’d been him who’d rejected her, but he couldn’t imagine handling the situation if their roles were reversed. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Then he heard it. At first only faintly, then clear and loud enough for his heart to break.

Whimpers. Cries. Sobs.

Her face when it had finally dawned on her that he was leaving her had been a picture he’d replayed in his head over the past weeks.
His ears still rang with her cries and his eyes burned at the memory of her soft lips parting to beg him to stay with her.
And still, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d harmed her until now that he could hear her heartbreak through the thick wood of her door.
His hands pushed down the handle before he had thought twice about it and he rushed into the room. He could have sworn his soul crumbled at the sight of Y/N curled up in her bed, a thin blanked shielding her shivering body from the cold while she cried and sobbed into her pillow. Her arms were wrapped around the fluffy material and her head buried into it so Harry couldn’t see her face. Harry wasn’t sure if she’d even noticed his presence or not but he didn’t care.
Before Y/N could protest or really understand what was going on, he’d discarded his shoes and climbed up behind her. Both of his arms found their familiar hold around her waist and he felt tears shoot to his eyes when he finally buried his head into her neck, breathing in her comforting scent. His legs pushed hers apart before intertwining with them and so Y/N soon was cuddled into and against Harry, closer and tighter than she’d ever been before.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry breathed against her skin, “I love you.”

Not for a moment did he hope she might have missed the confession that had slipped his lips before he could stop it. Though Harry hadn’t thought about it before, hadn’t come to any conclusion and sure as hell hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, he realized it was true. He did love Y/N and any reason he’d dug up to break up with her had been for the sole purpose of stopping him from falling deeper.
But he loved her. And this time he wouldn’t leave.

“Forgive me,” he continued, his own voice breaking as his eyes stung with tears.

Y/N’s body was stiff aside form the occasional shakes by her crying and she did nothing to return his embrace. But she didn’t push him away either and this allowed him to hope.
His lips found her neck and he sobbed when happiness flooded his body, his skin tingling with the relief of finally having her close enough to touch again.

“This time will be different,” he promised against her before pressing another tender kiss to her skin, “I promise you, Y/N.”

And so they lay, on the very bed Harry had broken her heart on all those weeks ago. He thought it fitting that it was here he doing his best to mend it again.
But although he held her, breathed her in and murmured promises of how much he regretted it all, Harry continued to fail to understand just how deep his betrayal had cut and so he didn’t know that all Y/N’s head was screaming for was for him to disappear, even if her arms were too weak to push him off and her voice too thin to send him away.


When Harry awoke he was alone.
His hands didn’t need to pat the mattress in search for her, his entire body could feel her absence without having opened his eyes to confirm it. He felt cold.
He crawled out of bed with a groan and stretched his limps before walking gingerly to the closed door, down the hall and into the kitchen. His hands clenched and his heart skipped widely in his chest, nervous of what was going to happen next.
Y/N was standing with her back to him when he entered the small space of her kitchen and for a moment Harry considered sneaking up on her and wrapping her into an embrace, just like he’d done many times before. She turned around to face him before he got the chance.
Y/N’s eyes met his and he froze. Her gaze wasn’t anything like the loving and warm one he’d expected to receive. Instead, her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, proving just how much she’d cried last night, if not many more nights before that.
Her lips were bitten and dry, her hair appeared to be mat and when she raised her mug to her lips to drink he noticed how her hand was shaking.

“Did you sleep okay?”

It was a stupid question, he knew that even before he’d asked it, but he couldn’t think of anything else he could say. The girl before him looked nothing like the Y/N he knew.

“Can’t say I did.”

Not even her voice sounded the same, he noticed with a sinking heart.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, unsure to which one of his many mistakes the apology applied for.

“Breakfast is in the fridge,” Y/N spoke without reacting to his words.

They ate in silence, Harry sitting on the table and Y/N leaning against the counter. He watched her hand trembling slightly whenever she raise the spoon full of cereal to her mouth and he needed to focus on his own fingers to keep them from shaking too.
Once they had both finished Y/N turned to wash her bowl clean, but flinched away from the water when Harry stepped close to do the same.

“Y/N,” he sighed, set down the ceramic he was holding, before leaning against the counter himself. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N answered quietly, “Other than  that I think you should leave.”

Her eyes refused to meet his and instead focused onto the floor. A frown took over his face.

“Leave?” He shook his head.


“But Y/N,” he protested, “we made up. Last night when I climbed into your bed… we made up, didn’t we? Said I was sorry and promised to be different now…We made up.”

Though he’d wished to have her look him in the eyes again, the moment she did, he regretted it. Her orbs were cold and empty of any kindness.

“Because you climbed into my bed as I was crying?” The raw emotion in her voice knocked the breath right out of him. “You think that’s all it took?”

“I-” Harry began, but was interrupted.

“Surely you must know that it was you who’d made me cry last night. It’s been you every night for the past weeks.”

He swallowed hard and his stomach was in knots as he watched her turn around and exit the kitchen. Though he was worried about what would happen next, he followed her into the living room, this time aware of her resentment towards him and so he didn’t try and sit close to her again once she lowered herself onto the couch. Harry took a seat on one of her chairs and watched her warily, unsure if she wanted him to speak or had something to say herself. After a moment of silence he took a breath.

“I swear to you,” he began, “that me breaking up with you was in no way your fault. I know I made you feel as though it was, but it wasn’t. All you did was caring for me so much more than I’d imagined someone could and I fucked it all up simply because I didn’t know how to deal with that.”

“I didn’t think somebody caring for you would pose such a problem to you.”

“It didn’t,” Harry quickly argued, “Not a problem, but something that scared me. I didn’t want you to realize that I didn’t deserve you.”

Y/N laughed. “That’s bullshit. You wished that was why you broke up with me but we both know it isn’t.”

Harry fell silent. The girl before him shook her head and let her gaze wonder to the window, appearing deep in thought for a moment.

“I have spent every minute of every day since you abandoned me with ways of making sense of it. Do you realize that? While you were fucking her, I was sitting here wondering what I’d done to be thrown to the side like a plaything you decided you didn’t want anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Harry protested before he could stop himself, “I saw you with that man at the shops. I did nothing with anyone until I saw those pictures!”

“Oh, I’ve seen those photos, too,” Y/N spoke, her voice raising, “And you, of all people, should know that the media can make anything into a story! It was a guy who’d accidentally bumped into me and asked if I was alright. Nothing more.”


“And what about you?” she continued “Did you also just happen to fall into that woman’s arms and did your mouths meet completely by chance? Did she stumble into your bed and you just coincidentally happened to be naked?”


“Why? Don’t you want to think about her?”

“No,” he murmured, his eyes suddenly wet with tears.

Y/N swallowed hard and though it wasn’t easy for her to see the man she loved tormented, she had to admit that with every word she spoke, another weight was lifted off her chest.

“I’m not the first,” Y/N began, her tone gentler, “That’s what saddens me, too, though it saddens me more for you than it does for me. Tell me, what is the girl’s name? The one you left behind now so you could come to me.”

Harry froze. He looked at Y/N and if he wasn’t mistaken he recognized a hint of pity in her eyes. Not pity for herself, but for him.

“Do you not know? It’s Moira.”

Moira. Harry’s mind raced. Not Mia. Or Maya. Moira.

“I saw it in every picture that was posted online. She was like me, looked at you just the same. Are you aware that you broke her heart just the same you have broken mine?”

No, Harry thought, he couldn’t have.

“And what is the girl’s name you left before you first met me? And the girl before that and the girl before that? You have left so many people in the past few years there is a trail of heartbreak behind you and to this day you have remained completely unaware of it.”

Y/N’s cheeks were wet but her voice didn’t tremble.

“It isn’t the same,” Harry spoke, his voice hoarse, “you’re the only one I want, Y/N. We laster five months, that’s worth so much more than any fling I might have had before you.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall into his palms.

“They meant nothing,” he swore, “and Moira,” he swallowed hard, “was only a distraction from you.”

“You said I wasn’t what you wanted,”  Y/N continued, “I assume you told all of them the same. You’ve let so many people down all because you selfishly chase a romanticized picture of a relationship you have in your head.”

“I’ll change,” Harry weeped against his palms, “From now on it’ll be only you. I don’t need any imagination of a relationship. I want what was real. Want it with you.”

He removed his palms form his face and got to his feet. He noticed her body tense when he neared but she didn’t move away, not even when he dropped to his knees before her.

“I’m in love with you.”

She shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered and this time she allowed him to see her tears fall from her eyes, “don’t say that only because you’re scared.”

“I’m not,” Harry whispered, “It’s the truth, that’s why.”

Y/N didn’t flinch when he reached for her hands and his heart squeezed when she didn’t pull away.

“I am scared,” he continued, “How couldn’t I be? Your rejection would break my heart and I don’t know how I’d live with the knowledge that it is my fault that I lost you? But I’m not scared of being alone anymore, not enough to throw myself into random relationships like you were right, I have done all this time. I want you or nothing at all, Y/N. I love you.”

He watched her sob and squeezed her fingers with his gently, appreciating any skin touched by her warm tips. This small touches, the reluctant squeeze and tiny movements, meant so much more than the physical contact he’d graved and taken last night. He’d held her, kissed her, breathed her in. But this was voluntarily. She was holding his hands because she wanted to.
He could have rejoiced.  
When her body fell forward and into his open arms, he didn’t know for sure if it was because she wanted it or just her body giving out, finally surrendering to the weight of her emotions.
He cried out when her arms settled around his neck and his heart broke when he felt her kiss his neck. After all this time, he could breathe again.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I’ll fix this,” he promised, “Everything. I’ll call and apologize to every woman I hurt in the past. You are right, always are, and I should apologize to them for my selfish actions. But you and I are different, Y/N. We’re real and I won’t let my stupid imagination ruin anything again. I don’t want the classic perfect. I want our perfect.”

She sobbed and held onto him tighter. Harry fell back to sit on the floor and a relieved laugh tumbled from his mouth when she followed to sit in his lap, both legs now wrapped around his waist.

“I love you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

He groaned when her small hands pulled at the strands of hair at the back of his neck, but obeyed and moved his head back so his eyes could meet hers. Her beautiful orbs were full of the loving care he’d missed so much and he felt another wave of tears rush to his own eyes.
For a moment she just looked at him, the man she’d given her heart to, who’d then broken it and now promised to mend it again. Harry.

“It’ll take time,” she murmured shyly and he nodded without hesitating, “but I think we’ve got enough of it.”

A smile danced on his mouth and his eyes closed when her soft lips met his in a tender kiss. He had her back, he thought, his heart full of joy and he wouldn’t ever be reckless enough to let her go again.

Thank you for reading this!! Hope you liked it. 
Rest of what I wrote can be found here:

A Blind Path Home, part 4

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.

Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?

Masterlist (if it works - links have been shity lately)

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Ain’t Got Nothin’ But Love

A Highschool AU SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration

Admittedly, it might not be entirely truthful to say that Baz joined Vocal Jazz because he loved singing.  This is not to say that he didn’t love singing, it just wasn’t something that he tended to broadcast. And yes, Vocal Jazz was a good way of coming out of his shell, breaking past that barrier of shyness when it came to his own voice, plus maybe making some friends.

           However, let’s just say that Baz might not have auditioned if it weren’t for the blonde-haired blue-eyed tenor.

           And maybe he didn’t get up for those early morning practices before class purely because he loved singing, but because he loved something else.  Someone else.


Baz was more than a little disappointed when the group was split into two for the Valentine’s Day Musical Candy Gram event.  Granted, some might find it a little overwhelming to have ten people singing at them in front of the class, but couldn’t he at least have been put in Simon’s group?

           No, because the ensemble only had two basses and two tenors.  Both groups needed one of each, and Simon couldn’t miss third class.

           So Baz was left to swallow his disappointment as he followed his group down the halls of Watford High, singing excerpts of Beatles songs at poor unsuspecting students.  Objectively, it was a cute little setup.  They would barge into a classroom with the chorus of “She Loves You”.  Then Trixie, one of the sopranos, would call out the names of any “lucky” students, who would then have to make their embarrassing way to the front of the room to accept a flower or a card or both from Trixie and be serenaded with “8 Days A Week”.  All in all, not horrible.  Objectively. Baz was just glad he wasn’t on the subjective side of things.

           After fourth period, which he spent both quietly chuckling at the sound of his choir mates in nearby classrooms, and also praying they wouldn’t burst into his classroom or, heaven forbid, bestow a Musical Candy Gram upon him, Baz returned to the empty music room for his coat, which he had left there when the group had met at lunch.  As he buttoned up the coat, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit melancholy.  He hated to admit it to himself, but while singing was great, it was nothing compared to singing with Simon.  Because when he was singing with Simon it made “I’ll Be Seeing You”, their competition piece, feel different.  He wasn’t just singing words; it was more of an outlet.  Like pouring his bottled-up feelings down a drain.  They weren’t going to Simon, but at least they were going somewhere.

           “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah…”

           Baz’s heart sank when all nine of his choir mates filed into the room, singing and snapping their fingers, this time directing their song at him, but he had to smile a little.

           “Really?” he smirked as Trixie came forward to hand him a single rose with a card attached by a ribbon.  “Is this all necessary?”  In response, they burst into “8 Days A Week”, beaming at him like he’d won some sort of prize.  It was mortifying, but it was almost nice.

Baz snuck a glance at Simon, who was singing through a grin, and even though he knew he was probably blushing, Baz held his gaze for a few more seconds, saving the sight to replay later.

“Alright, who’s it from then?” he demanded when the others had finally finished singing.  “There’s no name on the card.”

“Oooh, a secret admirer!” squealed Trixie, but nobody had an answer for him.  Baz didn’t miss the smirk that twisted Simon’s mouth though, or how smug the boy looked when he left the room.


“You know, don’t you?”

Simon didn’t answer right away, but Baz saw his mouth twitch.  “Know what?”

“Who sent me the card and the flower yesterday.” Baz tried to sound indifferent as he trawled through the philosophy section of the library.  “I could see it on your face.”

Simon pulled a book on Aristotle off the shelf, not looking at Baz.  “It’s possible,” he drawled.  “After all, you are my best friend, I ought to know who has a crush on you.”

“What you ought to do is tell me, best friend.”

“I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“I can’t,” Simon turned to him giggling.  “If I tell you who sent the Valentine, it would be breaking confidence.” He solemnly put one hand over his heart and one in the air by his head.  “I am under oath.”

“Under oath to whom?”

“The person who sent it, of course.”

Baz shot a look at him.  “So you’ve talked to them about it?”

“You could say that.”

“You’re being annoyingly cryptic.”

“Do you have any suspicions?”

Of course Baz had thought about it all day yesterday after school, but his mind had kept wandering back to what Baz wanted.  Because there was only one person he wanted to be behind the Valentine.

And if Baz was being honest with himself, it Simon hadn’t sent it, Baz didn’t want it.

He just shrugged.  “No one I can think of really makes sense.”

“Most love doesn’t make sense,” Simon murmured in reply, so softly that Baz thought maybe it wasn’t for him to hear.  Granted they were in a library, but still.

“Would you tell me if I guessed correctly?”

“No guarantees, but you have permission to interrogate me.  Ask away.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Hopefully a boy.”

Baz raised an eyebrow.  “What do you mean ‘hopefully’?”

“Well, in theory,” Simon stammered, “whoever sent it cares about you enough to know that you’re gay, and if it were a girl, hopefully she would respect you enough to know better than to send you a Valentine.”

Baz had to admit he had a point.  “So basically what you’re saying is that it was a boy?”

Simon smiled.  “If that’s what you think.”

A thought occurred to him.  “It wasn’t Agatha, was it?  Just to get that off the table?”

“No it was not,” Simon admitted, “that would be a bit weird.”

“Especially since she’s still carrying a torch for you,” Baz snorted, maybe a little louder than was appropriate in a library.  Simon gave a wry smile that Baz couldn’t quite interpret.

“It wasn’t her,” Simon assured him, “guess again.”

Baz was honestly stumped.  There just wasn’t anyone else who seemed even the least bit interested in him.  He had thought that maybe Dev had had feelings for him a few years earlier, but now Dev was happily involved with his girlfriend, which eliminated that possibility.

“Really?” Simon smirked.  “No one?”

“There just isn’t anyone who shows any signs of liking me like that,” Baz shrugged.

“You might be surprised at the number of people who would gladly date you.  I mean, you’re certainly not hard to look at.”

Baz shot a surprised glance at Simon, who was apparently very interested in a chapter about nihilism.  Did he just…

“Is there anyone you want it to be from?” Simon asked quickly, like he didn’t want Baz to question him further.



Simon looked up at him with a smile that seemed just a little bit painted, and looked back down quickly.  “You should ask them,” he said in an overly cheery voice, “you could get lucky.”

“There’s no point,” Baz shook his head.

“Why not?”

“There’s no way it was them,” he chuckled sadly, “absolutely no way.”

Simon shrugged without looking at him.  “Maybe that’s for the best.  If you never know who it was, you can just imagine that it was who you wanted it to be, and the person can just imagine that you like them back.”

Baz didn’t have an answer for that.  It sounded like an easy solution, to just let the whole thing fade away and imagine that Simon had picked out the rose with care, that he had skirted around Baz when the group prepared all the Candy Grams so that Baz wouldn’t find his own name among the Valentines. That he had done something silly like kiss the card before tying it to the bloom.

But it was too good to be true, and Baz knew it. He would never stop wondering if he didn’t find out for sure.

So he steeled himself and forced the words out of his mouth: “Was it you?”

Simon looked up at him with practiced innocence, but his eyes betrayed a touch of fear.  “Why would you think that?”

“I just had to ask,” Baz floundered, hoping he hadn’t gone as scarlet as he felt.  “So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“… No.”

“No, what?”

“No, it’s not a ‘no’.”

Baz’s brain was going at a thousand miles per second, and yet he couldn’t for the life of him comprehend what Simon was saying. “Oh,” was his scholarly response. “So that means…”

Simon stared straight ahead into the bookcase. “I sent it.  You got me.”


Simon finally turned to look at him.  “Why?  Gee, I don’t know, Baz!”  He was whispering, but with so much force that it felt to Baz like he was shouting. “Maybe because in all the years we’ve been friends you have astounded me and I only just made sense of it all! Maybe because you’re brilliant and gentle and so goddamn beautiful and when you sing I never want you to stop, and even if you never found out who sent you the stupid flower or if you didn’t care, at least I would have tried to tell you how much I like you, at least I would have -”

The next sound he made was one of shock as Baz’s mouth covered his own.

The sound after that was one of oh god, finally because Baz had him backed against the philanthropy section and was tangling his fingers in Simon’s curls, burying his lips in heat and need and oh, this is what all the hype is about and it was a million times better than Simon could have hoped for.

“Under oath to whom, again?” Baz teased against Simon’s lips, and Simon laughed lightly as he snaked his arms around Baz’s neck, already desperate for more.

“You got me,” he whispered, reaching up for Baz’s mouth again, and Baz couldn’t help but grin as Simon pulled him down to meet him.  Baz angled his head and deepened the kiss, a low sigh escaping his throat.  In the back of his head he remembered the rose and the card, and took to moment to appreciate the fact that he wouldn’t be throwing them away after all before setting up a long, slow rhythm against Simon’s mouth like they had all the time in the world.

The One That Got Away [Chapter 12]

Originally posted by jypnior

Chapter 12 of The One That Got Away

Series Genre: Angst/Fluff/Smut

“I’m… I’m listening,” you whimpered, holding back the tears that stung your eyes.

You blinked, letting them trail off your lashes and onto your cheeks.

He brushed them all away with his thumb. His touch was so delicate, so loving. It amazed you how actions so small could fill you to the brim with such raw emotion.

Keep reading

Not Your Enemy

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage, angst, language, brief graphic death (nightmare), emotional hurt/comfort, very lightly implied smut.

Word Count: 1317

Prompts: This one and this one

Song Inspiration: Not Your Enemy by Jesse McCartney (don’t judge - it just seemed fitting)

A/N: Hello hello! So yesterday, the amazing @deseraysmiththings posted these great writing prompts involving arranged marriage with the Demon King. I wrote a drabble for one that ultimately inspired this one-shot. I really hope you all like it.

Quick reminder for new readers just joining in (hi new readers!): normally, I write fics for Supernatural. However, I’m also a huge fan of WWE and love reading the works of that community as well. After reading some brilliant pieces from - and chatting with - the amazing @devitt-club, I got inspired to write a fic featuring one of my current favorites: Finn Bálor. So I’m new to the WWE fanfic crowd and couldn’t be more thankful for the love I’ve received so far.

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

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rebloggedliked  asked:

I want to say that I love your writings but that doesn't do it justice. I look forward to them. Also, can I ask for one we're reader is a tomboy that acts flirtatious and confident- but it's really to mask very low self-esteem- and secretly crushes on Mcree. They'd never ask because of this even though they've been best friends since forever. Somehow, Jessie finds out and uses this to tell reader about his feelings for them (you can use your imagination for the end). Thanks you for reading this!

((A/N - you are too kind! I hope you enjoy 💜))

You wished you had a hat. Not a cowboy hat like Jesse’s, but just a beanie or a cap or something. Your locks kept on being flung into your face by the wind, no matter how many times you tucked them behind your ear. You felt self-conscious as you hadn’t washed your hair today. A nice hat could cover it up. Granted it was a nice day, and the small inconvenience was probably worth it because the view from the café’s garden was incredible. Perched on the peak of a grassland, you could see rolling hills for miles, with the odd patch of darkened woods where if you looked closely, wild rabbits could be seen hopping around. At least you could, if your view wasn’t obstructed by hair.

“Maybe y'should get the chop.” Jesse observed, sipping at his beer in the dark green bottle.
You huffed at him, holding your hair in both hands as makeshift pigtails, which made him cackle.

“Maybe you should let me borrow your hat.”
“No way, doll. Should'a brought your own.
“Please? How am I supposed to enjoy our lovely day out if I can’t even see.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to huff. Putting his bottle down on the worn metal bistro table, he gingerly took off his hat. Swooping your hair over your right shoulder and holding it there, you reached over and used your left hand to ruffle his mop as a thank you. He placed the hat down on your head forcefully.

“Oi. Not necessary.” You pouted, plaiting your hair skillfully.

He grinned at you.

“Howdy, pard'ner.”
“… What?” You asked again, still confused.
“Your hair. My hat. You look like a proper cowgirl.”

You snorted. Jesse picked up his beer.

“Comin’ from the legendary Jesse McCree himself?” You exaggerated the southern belle accent, placing a hand in the centre of your chest.

He nearly spat his drink over you, but managed to swallow it.
“My goodness, (Y/N). Is that really what I sound like?”
Eyes wide, he wiped a hand over his smiling lips to get rid of a spatter of beer.

“No, but you have to admit you do put it on sometimes.”
“Alright, I will admit that. Only if you admit ya like wearin’ my hat.” He smirked devilshly.
You smiled, but your brows were furrowed as to say of course you did.
“Half of my wardrobe is made up of your old clothes.”
“No. I have to keep buying new clothes because ya keep on stealin’ them.”
You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head, laughing.
“You have a point. What’re best friends for if you don’t share clothes?”

You managed to take a swig of your beer, now that your hair was out of the equation.

He was still looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

“Nothin’. Jus’ like bein’ here with you is all.”
“Cute. Now stop being sappy and finish your beer. I want to buy a hat.”
His eyes narrowed at you, keeping contact until he gulped the last drop. Jesse plonked the bottle on the table, followed by a satisfied ‘ahh.’

“I’m surprised you’re not g'na keep that one.” Scraping his chair back he nodded to the leather material protecting your head.

“I haven’t decided yet. We’ll see how lucky I get.”
“You’ve got me. I’ll say you’re pretty darn lucky.”
A dust of pink scattered your cheeks as you rolled your eyes at him and stood up.

He was your best friend, and had been for a very long time. Okay, there were times that you had thought of him as more, but you didn’t want to ruin what you already had. You’d watched too many TV shows and movies where friends decided to be in a relationship and they’d ended up breaking up and not talking to each other again. You knew better. You hoped Jesse knew better too. However, you hadn’t been in a proper relationship in a very long time, your last one ending on somewhat bad terms. It really put a damper on your confidence, and you weren’t particularly keen to go through it again.

Yeah, and Jesse was there to comfort you after the breakup.

That’s because he’s my best friend.

You like him.

Of course I do, he’s my friend.

That’s a cover up and you know it. You like him.

Your lips narrowed and brows furrowed at your internal battle.

“You okay, doll? Y'look a bit outta it.”
“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You put on a fake smile and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the café.

His warm, large, firm hand that could easily make you bend to his will.

Woah there. Not in public.

Suddenly realising how clammy your palms were, you instantly pulled your hand out of Jesse’s grip and looked back to flash a quick smile to reassure him.

Stepping into a clothing store you picked up the first hat you saw, even if it was in the men’s section. You carefully took off Jesse’s hat and handed it to him to hold. Shoving the grey woollen beanie on your head, you span and turned to look at Jesse expectantly.

“Not g'na lie. You look like a female Reyes.”
 You snorted and pulled the hat off, a few strands of your hair coming loose. Jesse came forward and gently brushed them behind your ear. He pointed to a cap.
“Whatta ‘bout that one?”
You put the beanie back on the hook and tried on the cap. You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re too old to even know what that word means.”
“’S'cuse me?”
You chuckled, reaching up on your toes to pat his head. You’d never really noticed how much taller he was than you.
“It’s okay, sweetie. We all get old one day.”
You turned around to look in the mirror just in time to miss Jesse blush.
“I might get this one. Seems okay.”
“Yeah, suits ya, doll.”
You smiled at his compliment, your eyes catching in the mirror.

Taking the cap off and flattening the rest of your hair, you made your way over to the tills to pay.

“Hi there! Did you find everything you needed today?” The cashier asked.
“Yeah, thanks. I only needed a hat as Mr. Grumpy Pants got annoyed I had to borrow his.”
You like to think she let out a genuine laugh.
You paid for the hat, joking around with the cashier while she put it in a bag.
“I hope you and your boyfriend have a lovely rest of the day.”

Wait. What?!

You span around on your heels, too embarrassed to correct her.

You are just friends.

That’s bullcrap and you know it.

Stop. There’s nothing more.

You hold hands. You wear his clothes. You enjoy being in each other’s company. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, right?


You pulled the hat out of the bag and tore the tags off. You stuffed it on your head, grinning at Jesse.
“Now I don’t have to steal yours.”
He looked at you, blank faced.
“I heard what the cashier said.”
“You did? Oh. Funny, huh?”
“You didn’t correct her.”
“Erm, nope. Sorry? I guess.”

He broke into a grin.

“Don’t apologise.”
He threw his arm around your shoulder as you both walked down the street.

“Have you ever imagined us being t'gether?”
“I mean.. That’s a full on question.”
“Yae or nae, is all I need.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Good. So’ve I.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, the brim of your cap casting a shadow over your face.

“You have?”
“Di'n’t I jus’ say that?”
You pressed your lips together.
“Well.. How did it pan out?”
“We were happy. We’ve known each other for such a long time, (Y/N).”
“I know we have, but I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”
“You pulled your hand away from me earlier.”
“What was that about? Did'ja get freaked out it seemed we were more than ‘friends’?” He exaggerated friends with his fingers doing air quotations.

He needed to stop changing the subject too quickly, he was catching you off guard.

“Er,” you coughed slightly, “Sure.”
You dipped out from under his arm and started walking over to a vacant bench. He was immediately behind you, you both sitting down at the same time.

“I don’t wanna do anythin’ that makes ya feel weird.”
“It’s weird even talking about it.”

Jesse let out a hearty chuckle. He put his hand on your thigh and his chocolate eyes met yours.
“Seriously, (Y/N). I’ve noticed the way ya look at me.”
You glanced away, feeling like a deer in headlights the way he was staring at you so intently.
“We can go slow. Everything would still be the same. I’ll still be the same ol’ Jesse McCree ‘nd look after ya. There’d just be sex every once in a while.”
You snapped back to look at him, mouth agape.
“Jesse McCree. We are in public!“ 
He grinned at you wolfishly.
“Well? Whadd'ya say?”
You weren’t used to being put on the spot.
He encased you in a bear hug.
“Y'all have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” His voice slightly muffled from being buried in the crook of your neck. You leant into him, smiling.

See, was that so difficult?

You hated your internal voice. She was always right.

“Wait ‘til I tell everybody back at base.”
“Hey, we haven’t-”
“It’s official, (Y/N).” He sat back and grinned. “C'mon!”

He dragged you from off the bench, headed to where the car was parked, practically bouncing around like an enthusiastic puppy.

You shook your head to yourself and smiled. What on earth had you gotten yourself into.

Split Lip (Jughead x Betty)

Jughead winced and tried to turn his head away before it was jerked back sternly by a pair of delicate hands.
“Juggie, don’t you move.” He pouted, immaturely as her hands fluttered around his face. “God, look at your poor lip.” Betty’s eyebrows were furrowed over her gorgeous eyes, her teeth biting at her bottom lip worriedly as she dabbed at his split lip with a piece of cloth.
Jughead raised his hands to hold her wrists still, looking her straight in the eye. “Honestly, Bets, I’m fine. It’s just a split lip. It’s nothing.” His thumbs brushed back and forth across her slim wrists as he looked at her, trying to radiate calm.
The look she threw him was completely disbelieving. “It is not nothing, Forsythe Jones. Why on earth would you go up against Reggie? He looks like he’s on all kinds of steroids and God knows what else. He’s twice your size. Do you have any sense?” Her words should have made him mad, or at least annoyed, if not for the way she said them. She was distraught with worry; she had feared he’d come away with a lot more than a busted up lip and the way her eyes filled with unshed tears as she ever-so-gently dabbed at his still bleeding lip, warmed his cold heart.
He couldn’t help it, he chuckled before hurrying to explain why to the pretty teary blonde. “He is kind of like a Terminator, huh?” At her small smile, he pressed on. “I’ll be back. Reggie’s not one for words, but surely he’d be able to handle about 6 of them, right?” He had succeeded, he’d made her laugh, if only fractionally. He smiled at her, “I’m all good, Bets. I promise.”
She sucked on her bottom lip for a second before asking quietly, “Why did you and Reggie fight, Jug? It’s not like you to get in a punch up.”

“Don’t laugh.” An eye-roll on her part. “He was talking shit.” A world-weary sigh that was about to turn into a lecture. “About you.” That stopped Miss Cooper in her tracks.

“He… what?” Her hand that was holding the cloth dropped from his lip to her side, and his hand slipped from her wrist to hold it in his gently.

“He was being completely disrespectful, Bets. He’s a womaniser, but I just couldn’t sit and hear that, you know? I couldn’t.” He held her hand tighter, waiting for any kind of response other than the blank stare she was currently sporting. After about a minute of silence she seemed to have snapped out of it.

“Are you telling me you got yourself punched in the face defending my honour?”

He grinned slightly, pulling at his swollen lip. “Yeah, I guess so.” If Jughead was expecting immediate praise, he was destined to be disappointed because the tiny powerhouse called Betty Cooper began to hit his shoulder firmly.

“You. Stupid. Stupid. Boy. Getting. Yourself. Hurt. Over. Me. Idiot.” Each word was punctuated with a slap to his shoulder.
He raised his hands in a placating gesture and began to defend himself, “Bets, I…” before he was cut off completely. Betty had grabbed his jaw with both hands and placed a firm kiss on his sore lips, and Jughead barely noticed the pain. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, five, if he was being completely honest, but she didn’t move away entirely when she was done. Betty lingered next to his lips, smiling a very pleased-with-herself smile before breathing, “Thank you.”

Jughead stared at her, his brain buzzing a million miles a minute, trying to find the perfect words to portray to Betty how happy he was to have defended her honour. What actually came out his mouth was, “I’m gonna need to get Reggie to punch me in the mouth everyday if that’s what happens after.”

She tossed her head back, ponytail swinging, and let out a laugh that had him grinning ear to ear. “Oh Juggie.” She pecked him on the lips again, being more gentle against his lip this time. “Please don’t. I’d like to kiss you without making you wince.”

“Trust me, Bets. I really don’t mind.” He took her perfect face in his hands and kissed her like he’d never have another chance, because girls like Betty? You should never take that kind of girl for granted.


So since these requests were very similar in concept, I apologize that I didn’t quite answer them exactly how you guys wanted, but I also saw this comic by @atwotonedbird and couldn’t help myself. 


(Drabble takes place in between events of Chapter 10 of Sidon’s Epic Pining Adventure before the Yiga attack happens)

Sidon was still grumbling angrily when they got back to his quarters, and now Link wasn’t sure if it was because Ruta’s stubbornness was still getting to him or because of the monster attack that just added fuel to his fire.

“Bastards,” Sidon growled, “I can’t believe they’d have the nerve to grab you like that…”

“Hm?’ Link grunted in confusion. It was only then that it finally clicked for him; a Moblin in the attack had gotten rather gutsy, grabbing Link by the hair and pulling him off his feet. Unfortunately for the Moblin, the motion had granted Link the perfect opening to slice it and kill it. But if Sidon had been the one to been grabbed like that and on the tail…

Well, Link still couldn’t remember much about Zora biology but he did know that tails were a sensitive spot and his first instinct would have been to rush Sidon straight to the infirmary.

That would also explain why Sidon let out such a rage-filled roar and ran his trident through the moblin’s neck even after it was dead.

Keep reading

Seokjin: Seokjin would be calm, more relaxed, same with his wolf so he wouldn’t frighten you. He’s a strong Alpha. His heart is kind but when it comes to protecting the people he loves he is vicious and never loses a fight. Imagine you were being cornered in an ally by an unknown assailant. He would be in his wolf form and slowly approach you. You see him but the attacker doesn’t. You can see in his eyes that he wants you to remain calm. You know he will protect you from any harm. He slowly but menacingly reveals himself from the shadows and positions himself in front of you and then he charges your attacker. You close your eyes so you don’t see the carnage. When he finishes off the person putting you in harms way he would change back to his human form, tell you to open your eyes, look at you with a calm smile, and hug you tight while whispering in your ear that he loves you.

Yoongi: It was a time of war. They were in a battlefield and you, being the stubborn person you are, we’re in the middle of it all. General Yoongi being your alpha, you wanted to be by his side and help him in any way possible so you snuck into the camp and set up a tent for yourself to be near him. He knew you were there, he could sense your presence and he was fine with that. That was until an enemy infiltrated the campsite and tried to lay his hands on you. Yoongi could feel your distress from the bond you have. He signaled Namjoon and ran to your tent as quickly as he could. Yoongi pulls you quickly from your attackers arms and passes you to Namjoon who turns you around and hides your eyes from what Yoongi is about to do. No words were spoken as Yoongi approached the enemy soldier with the deadliest look in his eye. He quickly changed into his wolf form and ripped out the throat of your attacker. He payed the price for laying a hand on the mate of General Min Yoongi. After a moment of silence you realized you too had to face your punishment for sneaking into the campsite during a dangerous battle. But, later you realize punishments from your alpha weren’t too bad, and maybe you’d get into a little trouble more often.

Namjoon: You were kidnapped. Namjoon knew something was wrong because he felt his wolf crying. He knew you were in danger. He would be frantic trying to figure out what to do and how to get his precious mate back in his arms. He would change into his wolf form and search for your scent like a madman. But once he found where you were being kept locked away he would come up with the most intricate plan to get you out. He’s known for his wisdom and knowledge. Namjoon’s able to sneak you out of the compound you were being kept at through the air vents without your kidnappers knowing what had happened. After he ensured you were safe he takes your place in the cage you were held in and once your kidnappers returned to check on their prisoner the last thing they ever saw were the yellow eyes of a black wolf lunging at them. Namjoon made sure that those men never saw the light of day again.

Hoseok: You went missing. And he knew exactly where you went. Being the leader of one of the most dangerous packs around is no joke. It’s funny though that he was known as a ray of sunshine, the light that shines the way. He would make the weirdest noises or movements to make sure that the people he cared about were happy and smiling just like him. However, if his loved ones were in any danger? There would be hell to pay. A pack of rival wolves stole you away in the dead of night leaving Hoseok an absolute wreck. He was in tears from the moment he realized you were missing. Yoongi tried everything he could do to calm him down. As Yoongi held Hoseok in his arms, Hoseok’s expression would suddenly turn from a look of fear and sadness to a look of absolute rage. Everyone knew to stay out of his way. He couldn’t control his anger. The thought of you being in the hands of those mongrels was something he wouldn’t tolerate. He, and he alone, went to the rival pack and destroyed anyone who got in his way. He cleared the path straight to you. What the rival pack didn’t understand was that they shouldn’t underestimate the beautiful smile he held on his face. At the end of the day, he was a symbol of strength, not only in positivity to his pack but also his strength showed in the way he fought and protected. That’s how he became a leader. When he finally had you back in his arms he started crying while he kissed every inch of your face saying, “Baby I love you..I’m so sorry y/n…Forgive me I couldn’t protect you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Jimin: Your insane ex-boyfriend decided to kidnap you. He thought that if he took you away he’d be able to convince you to come back to him. But as you continued to refuse he went mad. He started to torture you. But little did he know who’s mate he was messing with… Park Jimin, his face would be the definition of a beast. Contorted in anger and rage. He would be the most terrifying person to be around if you were in any form of danger and everyone knew not to get in his way. He could feel your pain as he searched for you, following your scent to a bunker that your ex had built to keep you in. He could hear your screams as he approaches and it made his blood boil, his eyes turning red. Jimin would barge into the bunker and be the most graceful, terrible, beautiful thing you had ever seen as he somehow gently removed your restraints and placed you near the exit just as quick as he had your ex pinned to the wall, threatening his life. Once he made sure that he had gotten his point across, all of his attention was on you. He lifted you into his arms and held you tight, promising never to leave your side again.

Taehyung: Coming from a family of mobsters had its perks. For Kim Taehyung, aka V, he was able to live in the lap of luxury, wear his favorite Gucci clothing items at all times, he was able to shift from his human form to his wolf form doing whatever he pleased, he had the most delectable and amazing mate, he was soon going to take the role of leader of the pack, and no one messed with him or his family of Alphas. Everything was great until the one day that someone tried to rip his world from under him. That someone was a half brother that Taehyung never knew even existed. But he was enraged that Taehyung would be receiving everything in the world that he could possibly want when he was discarded and forgotten. While V could never understand what his supposed brother went through, he empathized with him. He felt bad for what he had to go through. But he made a terrible mistake. He kidnapped you. Taehyung was shaking with rage when he received the ransom note for your safe return. He became a total disaster. You are his life and the thought of loosing you is too painful to bear. He made a vow to make sure that you would never be harmed and you would always be safe and protected with him. He made sure to keep that vow. His half brother was keeping you in an abandoned warehouse filled with betas waiting and willing to do his bidding. But they were not prepared for the hell that would be unleashed by Kim Taehyung. He may have had his family name under his belt but V also had connections of his own. His own ARMY was by his side as he fought his way through the warehouse to get to you. His roar could be heard for miles as he let out his rage on anyone that stood in his way. He finally found you, you were injured and laying on the floor of an empty room. His wolf slowly approached you, whining because of his concern for your well being. You could hear him and reached out to him. Taehyung curled around you and you could feel the warmth of his fur as he gently licked your wounds away.

Jeongguk: Jeon Jungkook was the youngest but most skilled assassin of his time. He knew his profession was a dangerous one but not only was it exhilarating it paid good money too. You being his mate knew what he did and what he was capable of but never asked questions because you and he both knew that to discuss what he did at odd hours could also put you in jeopardy. Jungkook’s profession never stopped you from loving him though. Granted his job was the most terrifying thing because you never wanted him to someday disappear but you loved him and he loved you. It was a ride or die lifestyle and besides you always had a thing for bad boys. But everything changed the day that you disappeared. A client had put out a hit on a powerful and corrupt business man. However, the business man knew the threat against him and he had heard of the skill of the young assassin. He had dug deep and began to have Jungkook followed. This lead them to you. They figured that if they held you hostage they could make Jungkook drop the assignment he was given and change his loyalty. But they underestimated the wrath of the powerful alpha. In the pack of assassins he was the strongest and most agile. And the love of his life was in danger. Your kidnappers weren’t very conspicuous seeing as they held you in a building owned by the man he was supposed to kill. Jungkook’s stamina and agility allowed him to be swift and quiet as he made his way to you. He took out the enemy and his guards one by one, quickly and quietly. They were all dead the moment the idea of taking you away popped into their heads. The businessman was his final victim. He made his presence known, storming into the businessman’s office and suddenly holding him by his neck. He gripped it tight enraged and he watched as the life left the corrupt man’s eyes. Afterwards he continued to search the building for you. As soon as he found you, he ran to you. You were tied up but unharmed. He held you so tight. He looked into your eyes and made sure to remind you that he loved you more than anything in the world, you were his moon and stars, and he would always be there to protect you.

Spin - Jason Todd x Reader

After an untimely but rather expected case of writer’s block, I have now returned. This is requedted by a lovely anon. I had so much fun with this one guys! Thank you so much for pushing me to do what I think I do best :3

WORDS: 1674

“Dick.” He grunted into the earpiece, sounding more like he was crying an insult more than saying an actual name, “Could you be more specific?”

“The guy probably has a hoodie on, or something that covers his face. And he looks a lot older than everyone in that room.”

“That makes the two of us,” Jason rolled his eyes. It was stupid to think he could still pull of as a high school student, let alone blend in with a bunch of toddlers running around with alcohol glued to their hands. “Tell me again why I’m doing this and not Tim?”

“He’s underage.”

“Everyone in the whole fucking block hasn’t grown into their big boy pants!”

“Jason, they’re seniors. They’re what, two? Three years younger than you?

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Take a Deeper Look

{Part 1 | Part 2}

Pairing: Jay Park/You, Simon D/You

Genre: Yeah, still don’t know what’s going on here

Summary: AOMG’s newest producer has a lot to deal with including a flighty CEO who doesn’t understand the concept of “personal space” and feelings for yet another CEO who is so far beyond her reach she doesn’t even think she has a chance.

Content: Almost there, but no quiet | Daddy kink mentioned

Word Count: 3,549 

Notes: I suck at proofing. :<

You always prided yourself on being in control of your emotions, specifically in relation to your work. Music was not only what you did for living, but it was the reason you were able to get up every morning and face the day. It’s what kept you alive, warm, and fed: so you couldn’t fathom how that control had just slipped away with a simple prank pulled by your ‘oh so endearing’ boss. You were angry - not really at Jay but at yourself.

Your face still burned as you walked into the building the next morning. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the feel of Jay underneath you.Touching to most people was natural, but to you it was always an embarrassing mess that you did your best to avoid at almost any cost. Having the memory of you and Jay, your boss of all people, in such an intimate position was really doing a number on you. It was worse than having to hear his voice crooning obscenities in your ears while you edited. It made you feel extremely uncomfortable - even simple skin ship often had that effect - and strangely had a warm feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach that you couldn’t explain.

Rubbing at your temples you made your way to Kiseok’s office. You hoped he would be in. It was only nine in the morning; all of the artists that were due to record for the day weren’t expected to start rolling in until around noon.

“Y/N, you are here awfully early,” his deep voice greeted you as you poked your head into his studio. He was lounging at his desk, nursing one of those gross breakfast replacement shakes that people without the skill or time to cook often took up.

“I can’t stand him,” you started immediately, dropping into a cushioned swivel chair next to him. “All he ever does is play around and I think Seonghwa should finish the last two tracks with him, because I don’t think I can.”

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Summary: Soulmate AU. A world where if a person writes something on their arm, their soulmate gets the same scribbles on their skin.

Tony Stark is a powerful man: he is one of the most well-known faces in history, a genius who has built a fortune with his weapons and inventions. But there is one thing wrong with him. He has never had any scribbles or doodles on his skin, and everyone fears that he might never find his soulmate.

Steve Rogers is an enhanced soldier in the 40’s, and a respected man in all of America. He saved thousands of soldiers lives, and is said to be the perfect example of what a husband should be like. But he is a bare-skin; he has never had any sign of his soulmate since birth. But what happens when he crashes into the ocean and wakes up a century later?

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Wordcount: 2805

Warnings: None

 Everyone’s had experiences with sudden doodles and scribbles appearing on their skin. It happened to everyone, was considered to be just as normal as cutting your hair or brushing your teeth before going to sleep.

 It was a tool used to find your soulmate. The link allowed two people destined to be a couple recognise one another. And it was fun to mess with.

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Characters: Castiel x Winchester!Reader, Dean, Sam

Word Count: 1,376 (This was supposed to be a drabble. Whoops?)

Warnings: Insomnia, other than that, it’s just fluff

Request: Can you do a Cas imagine where he finds out his girlfriend (Sam and Dean’s sis) hasn’t slept in two days and it’s because she can’t sleep unless he’s holding her?

Author’s Note: Please, send in requests because I love reading them and I love writing them! If you would like to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know and I’ll add you!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom (if you wished to not be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove you)

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural

It’s okay, Y/N, you got this. A lot of Hunters don’t sleep. A lot of Hunters go on very little sleep. You’re nothing special. Sam and Dean do it all the time. Hell, Cas doesn’t need sleep. But he’s an Angel and they don’t require sleep but same difference, right?

It wasn’t the fact that you didn’t want to sleep; it was the fact that you couldn’t. You were a Winchester and sleep didn’t come very easily for you. You had insomnia and both Sam and Dean knew this. You’re the only one out of your family that has it.

However, since you started dating Cas, you’ve been able to get to sleep without a problem but only if you were in his arms. You’ve tried tea, milk, medicine, baths, watching movies but nothing seemed to be working.

You were tired as hell but no matter how tired you got, you weren’t able to fall asleep. It was like your eyes wanted to sleep but every nerve in your body repulsed against the thought of sleep.

“You look like shit.” You jumped when you heard the voice. Two days of no sleep made you jump at anything. You looked up at Dean who entered the library. There was a case going on and luckily it was very close to home so you decided to do the research here instead of some musty motel room.

“Thanks Dean. Appreciate it.” You grumbled, looking back at the lore book.

“Alright, you get some sleep.” The book was taken from you and you looked at Dean with pleading eyes.

“You know I can’t sleep.” You sighed.

“You look like a fucking zombie. You’re lucky we know the difference between a monster and our sister. Go to bed.” Dean demanded. He thinks that just because he’s the oldest, he could boss you around.

“No.” You crossed your arms, not moving from the chair.

“What’s going on?” Sam entered the library.

“Y/N won’t go to sleep.” Dean said, looking at his brother.

“Sam, tell your brother that I can’t go to sleep. You both know I have insomnia. The only way I’ll sleep is if you knock me out but you won’t.” You said, pleading with your other older brother.

“Y/N, when is the last time you slept?” Sam asked, frowning when he stepped closer to you. He must have gotten a better look at you. You must have had bags under your eyes and blood shot eyes from the lack of sleep.

“Two days ago.” You shrugged, not seeing a big deal.

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Little Omega {Alpha!Castiel x Omega!Reader}

Summary: Just… just smut. Alpha/Omega smut. That’s really all my Castiel fics ever turn into 

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Warnings: Smut (duh)

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Burdens of Blood - Chapter One

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Chapter Summary: Princess Thea of Essex is promised to the king of Sussex, but the northmen arrive before the alliance can be fulfilled.

Warnings: Mild-violence, blood

Notes: I surrendered to a multi-chapter fic and I’m really excited. There’s not much interaction in this chapter, I tried to explain the max (and give a few tips) about the plot, pls bare with me. Let me know what y’all think :)

I sat quietly at the edge of the table, feeling like the head of a wild animal about to be sold for the highest price. My hands were cold and sweaty and there was a bitter taste in my mouth. I have always feared this day. The day I would lose my minimal freedom, that my life would leave a man’s hand just to pass to anoter’s.  And yet, all I’d do would be stand silent, the lack of control under my own life making my skin tingle.

My father, King Archibald of Essex, had spent hours telling me how important it was for our kingdom, for our people. In my heart, I knew he was right, and that is why I couldn’t refuse it, couldn’t run away from it. My duty is more important than my freedom. My blood is my curse.

All because of the northmen and their greedy violence. If it wasn’t for them I would have more time, perhaps even have the chance to marry by love. I could’ve been happy and they took it away from me. And for that, I hated them with all the stength in my body.

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anonymous asked:

Misconception: is always angry and stupid.

((Mun speaking))

Yuuuuuup. Like you said, there’s this wide-spread attitude that La’gaan is perpetually angry and dumb. It’s a case of taking his actions at face value. But when you dig deeper and look at the subtle hints we get in the series, several things become blatantly obvious:

  • La’gaan has been discriminated against his whole life. The Young Justice tie-in comics hint at it with his behavior during the arc where the purists are trying to take over Atlantis. And if Kaldur– who looks almost completely human aside from his visible gills and the webs between his fingers and toes– gets racial slurs thrown at him by the purists, how much worse do you imagine it would have been for La’gaan? Further, Topo (another non-human-looking Atlantean) actually is hunted down by the purists and gets a slur carved into his chest. In an environment where things like that happen, it’s not a stretch to say that La’gaan has been through some shit.
  • If you pull in information from the pre-New52 comics, La’gaan was the first non-human-looking Atlantean granted citizenship. Before Arthur/Orin took the throne non-human-looking atlanteans weren’t even considered citizens and weren’t allowed in Poseidonis. Granted, that hasn’t been implied to be the case in the YJ-verse, but think about how screwed up that is for a moment. Stop and consider how rampant the messages of “You are not a person” would be in a situation like that.
  • In the incident where the purists try to take over Atlantis (working under Ocean Master under the assumption that he would put the purists in control), one purist named Ronal found out that Ocean Master only wanted to cause chaos and a civil war rather than just putting the purists in charge– which resulted in Ronal turning on Ocean Master. It implied that Ronal didn’t suddenly care about non-human-looking atlanteans, but that he turned on Ocean Master because he found out that Ocean Master didn’t care about putting the purists in control. Purists, who essentially are sea nazis. And because he turned on Ocean Master, Ronal got pardoned for his role in it– and La’gaan was there for all of it and got to see an actual purist let off the hook.
  • La’gaan has serious self-esteem and body-image issues (made entirely obvious in the tie-in comics). Considering the racism he’s dealt with and been the target of his whole life, that’s unsurprising.
  • La’gaan is a good person who cares about others. That much is painfully obvious, otherwise he would have never ended up on the team or have become a hero. Think about it– you don’t sign up to do something that might get you shot at on a regular basis or otherwise put your life at risk unless you have strong feelings about it. La’gaan cares about others and obviously can’t bring himself to turn a blind eye when he sees something wrong.
  • Speaking of which, because he cares so much that he’s an active hero, it implies that he has a protective streak a mile wide. And since it’s safe to say that he’s been through some terrible things that he hasn’t been shown to even mention, it’s also safe to assume that he is deliberately protecting the others around him from what he’s been through by not talking about it.
  • La’gaan is loyal to a fault. He looked up to and admired Kaldur; it even says as much in his bio in the tie-in comics! So when he thought Kaldur turned traitor he genuinely thought that someone who he looked at as one person he could trust unquestionably had turned around and become everything they worked against– something that would have felt far worse than going up against the usual baddies they’ve dealt with. It would have felt (and obviously did feel) like one of the worst betrayals in his life. So of course he was going to be angry as hell about that.
  • La’gaan was used by M’gann in their relationship. She used him to feel better about herself, he obviously was feeling insecure in their relationship judging by the way he was reacting to Kon all the way up until M’gann broke it off. It wasn’t a healthy relationship. And despite that, even after it’s over, La’gaan still watches out for her because it’s the right thing to do.
  • There isn’t even the slightest mention of La’gaan’s family. Easiest inference from that fact is that he’s an orphan and has no family, which means he has been on his own, possibly for the majority of his life.
  • He is a more advanced magic-user than Kaldur. If you look up Greg Weisman’s explanation, Kaldur’s tattoos are still visible when not in use because he dropped out of the Conservatory of Sorcery. La’gaan, on the other hand, didn’t drop out. He graduated. His tattoos aren’t visible when not in use because he got further in his studies than Kaldur did. If he was ‘dumb’ that wouldn’t have happened. And since he is implied to be an orphan, in combination with the racist environment of Poseidonis, the only way he could have ended up in the Conservatory is if he is so skilled that someone felt it would have been a waste for him to not get the best education possible.

With the traumas La’gaan has been through (and likely has been through) it makes sense that he would hold others at a distance until he knows he can thoroughly trust someone. It makes sense that he would be blunt, to the point, guarded, and snarly until he knows it’s safe to let his walls down. If he comes off as angry, snarly, and distant (and unintelligent) it’s because he’s keeping himself protected by keeping the majority of what he’s capable of hidden.

La’gaan is a kindhearted kid who wants to make the world a better place while also being hyper-aware of his vulnerabilities, so he does what he can in the best way he knows how while maintaining thick walls to protect himself.

Sorry for the long post. Had to get it out of my system.

((Mun rant done.))