before he lost control

Oh all the comrades that e'er I’ve had
Are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I’ve had
Would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I’ll gently rise and I’ll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

who else hears the parting glass and thinks of Harry? just me? ok

Who’s Your Oppa? (charliesfairy)

Genre: Smut and a lil bit of angst but it’s barely even there my dudes

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader 

#14: “Take. It. Off.”

Requested By: @goddessofdestruction 

i’m still shit at titles,,someone pls help me,,but i’m such a slut for yoongi,,and that gif,,goddamn daddy,,yeah,,i’m going to hell,,bye

    It was never a good idea to tease Min Yoongi, but you never really had many ideas that didn’t land you in some kind of trouble so teasing him is almost an everyday occurrence, whether it be sexually or not.  Today, though, you were feeling unusually needy and desperately craved relief, but your boyfriend seemed to pay more attention to that damn microphone in his studio than to you.  You had a plan that would definitely change that.  There was no hiding the fact that Yoongi both loved and hated when you wore his clothes because it meant you’re trying to show that you’re his and he’s yours, but it, also, meant you got whatever you wanted because he just couldn’t say no. 

    Whether you simply steal one of his snapbacks or went as far as taking a whole lazy day outfit from him, it always got you exactly what you wanted.  With him being glued to his studio, it was going to take some drastic measures to get him to take his eyes off that stupid computer screen, but it wouldn’t be impossible.

    “Yoongi-yah,” you addressed him as you leaned against the door frame to his studio room, “Jimin-oppa said he’d come over and hang out with me since you  wo-”

    “You know how I feel about calling the other boys oppa.” he said sternly, not looking from the screen.

    “I know, but I don’t care right now because you won’t pay attention to me.  At least, Jimin-oppa will pay attention to me.” you retorted.

    You saw his jaw clench in anger, but he still didn’t look away from the screen.

    “I just wanted you to help me pick an outfit for when he comes over.”

    “Babe, I told you,” he huffed, “I’m very busy.  I don’t have time to help you pick out an outfit for your precious Jimin-oppa.”

    “Well, what do you think about this?”

    You had on nothing but one of his red flannels, completely unbuttoned.  You’re bottom half completely exposed, and your top half only partially covered by the fabric that moved every time you moved.  You knew he’d break as soon as he saw you, but he just wouldn’t look away from that computer screen.

    “I’m sure Jimin will love whatever you wear.  Now will you please-”

    “Goddammit, Min Yoongi, just look at me!” you screamed at him out of frustration.

    That was all it took for him to angrily push his chair back and lock his eyes with yours, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.

    “I am standing here almost completely naked for you, but you won’t even fucking turn around, you jackass!”

    The way you threw your arms exposed your chest for his staring eyes.

    “And now that you actually turned around, all you’re doing is staring at me!” you continued to yell, “Fucking say something!”

    “Take it off.” he stated.  He didn’t seem the least bit phased by your outburst.

    “No!” you refused and started to button up the shirt, “You’re lost your chance.”

    “I said: Take.  It.  Off.” he ordered again, “Or I’m going to come over there and rip it off you.“ 

    You looked from his angry eyes to his pursed lips and down to his hands which were balled up into fists, his nails digging into his palms.  You froze, your dominance diminishing as each second ticked by.  Then, you felt the cold wall hit your back, the red flannel thrown on the ground, and Yoongi’s warm body pressed against yours.  He had pushed you with such force you almost couldn’t breathe, but you had no trouble letting out a gasp of ‘Yoongi-oppa’ when he plush lips attacked your neck, licking, sucking, biting.  He stopped once he heard what you said.  

    “I thought Jimin was your oppa.” he smirked, but there was still anger in his voice.

    “He is.” you replied, deciding to tease him a bit more before you lost all control in the situation. 

    He thrusted his hips against yours, causing you to whimper loudly.

    “I’ll fucking show you who your oppa is.” he growled.

“Laura saw you two making-out...” - Old Man Logan x Reader

#6. Getting caught making out with Logan for @jobean12-blog.

At first I started to write a story with “normal” Logan, but then…Well I got inspired by (film) Old Man Logan and Laura, so…yeah. Though it didn’t turn out how I initially thought it would, it turned out more…serious than funny, but like, with a movie like Logan as an original material…you know ^^’. . Hope you’ll still like it and will be ok with the Old Man Logan blahblahblah :

(My masterlist blog here :


You couldn’t even recall the last time you had a moment like this…Was it over a year ago ? Before Charles lost control of his power and destroyed everything he ever build ? Before all your friends died ? Before you, Logan and the professor had to run away from the X-Mansion and hide because of what happened ? Right before you called Caliban for help maybe ?

You couldn’t remember. But it was hell of a long time ago.

Yes, Logan and you hadn’t had a moment of intimacy like that in ages…

Ever since the Xavier’s school incident.

This was so refreshing. So nice.

Feeling his tongue in your mouth, his body flushed against yours, his hands roaming your body, his smile in the kiss as your grip tightened around him.

It almost felt like old times. When things were easier. When things weren’t so complicated. When it was just you and your loved ones, living an almost normal life in the mansion, saving the World on a regular basis…

But this time was long gone, and you definitely cherished that fleeting moment you had right now with your Wolverine.


It wasn’t really meant to happen. It kinda just did. Which made it even greater than  it would be if it was planned.

Since you had to run away from the X-Mansion over a year ago, you and Logan rarely had time for yourselves.

He was working really late everyday, and when he came home, was too tired to do anything else but sleep. And you had quite busy days too, working your ass off as well to be able to buy the sun seeker one day, and leave this godforsaken place.

Keep reading


“I don’t care,” snapped Victor suddenly, the air humming to life around them. Mitch shot forward, putting his hulking form in front of Sydney, and Victor caught himself before he lost control. All three seemed surprised by the outburst, and guilt—or at least a pale version of it—tightened in Victor’s chest as he considered the other two, the loyal guard and the impossible girl. He couldn’t afford to lose them—their help, he corrected himself, their cooperation—certainly not today, so he drew the energy back into himself, wincing as he grounded it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a low breath

Jughead & Reader: Desire

Summary: At Ethel’s pool party, Jughead gets a little… excited when the two of you hang out at the pool. Embarrassed because all of his friends are around, the two of you have to try to find a way to sneak out without anyone noticing. 


Requested by: anonymous

Listen to: Undisclosed Desires - Muse

“Tell me again why I’m here,” Jughead said as the two of you walked down the path to Ethel Mugg’s pool house. He was wearing his black swim trunks with a t-shirt and a towel over his shoulder. He wasn’t too excited to be at a pool party with other students from school, but you had your ways of getting him to come. 

You laughed and looked at him. “Because you love me and want to spend time with me.” Jughead raised an eyebrow. “And because I said I’d cook for you if you came.”

“That’s right.” He laughed and kissed your head before you slid open the door and entered the pool house. 

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the truth we didn't know

pairing: junkook x reader

genre ft. au’s: angst + royal au + hanahaki au

word count: 8.176

authors note: just wanted to say a quick thank you to my wonderful friend @taexquila for being so kind and for beta reading this mess you are so amazing i cri

summary: “Grant me strength to endure this torture, grant the prince strength to endure this agony.” And grant, God did not. Since the higher upper had so many more plans in mind.

The atmosphere was almost chilling as Prince Jungkook lazily trudged through the thick mass of the pearl white snow in nothing more than a silk black frock coat made with the finest of silk moths, a pair of suit trousers which was already starting to cling around his ankles and beige ankle boots. Lifting his head up, he aimlessly watched the tree’s lean and whisper, with a thin sheen of snow adorning them they looked like regal figures entwined in an intricate dance. Although there was a thick canopy of of gelid leaves bordering the woods, the snow still fell in slow, unretiring movements onto the uneven ground.

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Notice Me [Chapter 8]

Originally posted by oompa-oppa

Chapter 8 of Notice Me

Ch1  Ch2   Ch3  Ch4  Ch5  Ch6  Ch7

Series Genre: AU/Smut/Fluff/Slight Angst at times

“Take me home…” you mumbled as he gazed at you, awaiting your answer.

He sighed in defeat. “If that’s what you want”.

He removed his hand from your chin and went to open your door for you.

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“I don’t care,” snapped Victor suddenly, the air humming to life around them. Mitch shot forward, putting his hulking form in front of Sydney, and Victor caught himself before he lost control. All three seemed surprised by the outburst, and guilt—or at least a pale version of it—tightened in Victor’s chest as he considered the other two, the loyal guard and the impossible girl. He couldn’t afford to lose them—their help, he corrected himself, their cooperation—certainly not today, so he drew the energy back into himself, wincing as he grounded it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a low breath.

for @aristotlemendoza

Skam week. Part 22

Idea explained here.

You can find all the parts here.

Thursday 7:38pm

He was already there when Elias arrived.

If he had been angry at Yousef before, now that he was seeing him it was like he lost control.

He approached him yelling at him.

“You kissed her fucking best friend?!?!”

He got to him and pushed him making him take a few steps back.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled again

Sana told you?” was all that Yousef could say.

“No! She didn’t! Your girlfriend is right now at my house talking to my sister because you weren’t brave enough to talk to her yourself”

“She wouldn’t talk to me! You wouldn’t let me talk to her” Yousef protested.

“Because you said you didn’t know what you had done!! She fucking likes you and you kissed her best friend, how could you not know why she was hurt??!!” Elias said pushing him again

“She what?” Yousef asked confused.

“She likes you! Why do you think she invited us there? Because she likes you, she wanted you to come! I told her that you were a good guy, I told her not to worry about the religion thing, I convinced her to invite you and you kiss her best friend? And now you act like you don’t know she likes you?”

“I didn’t know!! I thought it was all in my head, I thought she had invited us only so we could be friends with Even again, how would I know she likes me?” Yousef said desperate

“How wouldn’t you? Don’t you see the way she looks at you? Are you blind?” Once again Elias pushed Yousef

“Maybe I am!!Yousef, who was not fighting back, yelled.

“That’s your excuse? Why aren’t you defending yourself?” Elias asked “Fight back!” he yelled pushing him with every word.

“I won’t! I won’t fight you Elias ‘cause this is what I deserve. If you want to punch me, then do it, I deserve it!”

“I don’t want to punch you Yousef! Well, right now I want to, but I won’t. I want to understand why on earth would you kiss Noora?”

“Because I’m stupid! That’s why. I thought…I thought I didn’t have a chance with Sana, I thought she didn’t like me, I thought it had been all in my head. I was a mess and I wanted to be distracted, to forget about everything. And Noora was there and she kissed me and I just…I kissed her back. But I didn’t feel anything and I just…I don’t want to give up on Sana, I don’t want to forget her. But it doesn’t matter now because she hates me and she won’t ever forgive me”

He covered his face with his hands and started to cry. He had tried really, really, hard during these past few days not to lose hope, not to break, but knowing that Sana indeed liked him and that he had broken her heart was too much for him. He felt like garbage and he knew that if he had ever had a chance with Sana, he had just lost it.

“Damn it, dude, don’t cry” Elias said hugging his friend. “Everything will be fine”

“She’ll never forgive me” Yousef mumbled between his hands

“Yes, she will. You just need to talk to her” Elias said pulling away from his friend and removing his hands from his face to make him look at him.

“She won’t talk to me”

“She will, you just need to give her time, just don’t give up on her, show her that you’re still there”

Yousef sighed and nodded.

Damn, I really thought Noora would like tough boys like me more than softies like you” Elias said more to himself than to Yousef

“You like Noora?” Yousef asked chuckling and wiping away the tears that had been rolling down his face

“No.” Elias said “Well, she’s pretty”

“And she’s a good kisser” Yousef added

Elias glared at him, his eyes squinted, his mouth forming a line

“Too soon?” Yousef asked knowing he had messed up, again

“Way too soon, way, way too soon. In fact, I don’t think there’ll come a day when it’ll stop being too soon”

“Good to know” Yousef said nodding

Elias rolled his eyes and put his arm around Yousef’s shoulders.

“Now, let’s sit and tell me exactly what happened on Friday. Step by step, I need to know the whole truth if I’m going to help you”


6th update of the day

Take Your Time

TITLE: Take Your Time (Rise For Your King P4)
WORDS: 2,281

PART 3 || Part 5 || MASTERPOST

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haha okay i love jd, i really do, yes i’m one of Those People

BUT i really want to show the masterpiece of manipulative behavior that is the reprise of “meant to be yours” (which veronica thankfully outsmarts)

(i talk about this a lot but i think about this a lot so???)

this is gonna be LINE BY LINE yall

oh and side note this is so fun for voice/acting practice because of the bajillion emotions and crescendos in this frickin genius song

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TC Imagine - Cute; SFW; he's worried about you

Hey guys! So this is my first TC imagine and I don’t know whether I’ve used the acronyms etc right and I don’t know how good it is so feedback is appreciated!! Also was typed on my phone so formatting could be dodgy…
REQUESTED BY @angiekurosaki

You walked into class, trying not to make eye contact with him. It was the second lesson this week and you knew he had noticed that something was up the lesson before. He had seemed so confused when you left as soon as the bell rang, with your bag having been packed 5 minutes before the end of the lesson.

Maybe he had gotten used to you packing up slowly and always being the last one out? Maybe he even liked -
You squashed the thought as soon as it entered your mind. It was pointless hoping. It was pointless trying. You probably inconvenienced him more than anything, by being so slow at packing up. Besides, why would he enjoy your company? It’s not like you had the courage to even speak to him, and you would stutter out every other word, turning bright red as you did so.

You took your seat at the back of the class and made sure that your hair fell over your face in a way that seemed almost natural. You felt his gaze - but didn’t look up.

For the first time that year, you barely listened to a word he said throughout the lesson. You managed to write your name and the date on the paper and then held the pen poised to look as though you were writing for the rest of the lesson.

It seemed to be an interesting lesson. They were all laughing at one point. He had probably made another of his jokes. But it felt as though you were in a bubble, detached from everyone else. Everything seemed muted and hazy. You just wanted to get away, go outside, be anywhere but here.

Suddenly the laughter stopped.

You looked up.

Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Y/N, you can answer this one! It’s your favourite topic, remember?” He was looking at you, desperately it seemed, with his reassuring smile. It seemed he wanted to know if you were ok, for you to give a sign of some sort. A part of you fluttered - he had remembered that this was your favourite topic!

You glanced at the board and quickly understood what they were learning today. You grasped the subject almost intuitively and could interpret things almost instantly - and he had noticed from the start. It was the reason why he had started to notice you in the first place.

“Sorry, what was the question?” you asked tentatively. You looked up and met his eyes for the first time this lesson. His eyes, bright and passionate as ever when teaching his subject. You noticed the slightly crinkle around the corner of his eyes, the slight squint, a silent question - are you ok?

You smiled back at him, trying to hide the emotions from your face. It was a fake smile if he had ever seen one. But it was also a silent exclamation - not in front of everyone! You hoped he’d understand.

“Yes everyone, she’s back!” he smiled. He knew the smile had been fake, but he also knew that you wouldn’t say anything with everyone around. The others turned back to face the front, seemingly satisfied with your expression.

“The question was, why does urbanisation increase literacy rates?”

You answered the question. It was strange how he managed to do this. It had just been a smile, a look, a short phrase to show that he remembered things about you, that he cared. One of the few that did. And he had reminded you that you weren’t useless. That you could do stuff!

“Exactly! Well done, Y/N! Alright everyone, lesson’s over! Have a great weekend, I’ll see you on Tuesday! And as a treat from me, no homework today!” he shouted over the ringing of the bell and the clamour of people packing up.

You scrambled to pack your bag. You needed to get away quickly, before he asked you what was up. Before you lost all control in front of him.

“Damn it!” you yelled as your folder fell on the ground, slipping from your hand in your haste to pack up. Pieces of paper flew out of it on the way down. Great.

A few people stopped to help but left after a few seconds - it was Friday, no one wanted to spend any more time than necessary at school. Besides, it would probably take a while.

“You want a hand with that?” you heard a familiar voice ask, as the final person left the room, the door quietly shutting behind them. You paused. Waited for your heart rate to slow down again. How could his voice do this to you?

“Thanks!” you replied, not looking up. You could feel the warmth emanating from his skin beside you.

You both knelt on the ground over the folder, barely inches apart. You saw him glance at you a few times but you didn’t, couldn’t, look at him. You scooped up the paper and shoved it in the folder, not caring about the order, whilst he meticulously arranged each sheet.

Your hand reached for the final few sheets just as his did and your fingers brushed each other.

“Sorry” you said, blushing furiously and moving to retract your hand.

“She speaks!” You could feel him smiling without even turning to look at him. “Y/N, talk to me. What’s up?”
You could hear the genuine concern in his voice and it made you tear up.
Fuck, you thought. I can’t cry in front of him.

“Um, yeah I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?” You kept staring at the ground and tried to make your voice sound jokey. You moved to stand up.


“Y/N. Hey, look at me.” You stared furiously at the ground, suddenly interesting in the fibres the carpet was made from.

“Y/N.” His voice was soft but had that slight gravelly tone which happened when he tried to whisper. You felt a warm touch on your hand.

You looked down and saw his hand placed lightly on top of yours. You looked up at him in surprise.

“You know you can always talk to me?” He looked really worried now.

You looked into his eyes, at his concerned expression. He hadn’t shaved recently and there was a light coat of stubble on his cheeks, and his hair looked slightly ruffled. His shirt sleeves were rolled up as usual and you noticed that the top button of his shirt was undone.

You realised you were staring at him and quickly looked away. Fuck it, you thought. I’ll tell him.

“Thanks. It’s just… everything. It’s all falling apart you know? Like everything? And I don’t really know what to do?” You kept looking at the ground.

“Ok, but what? What exactly is falling apart?” He sounded calmer now, seemingly relieved that you had replied. You felt rather than saw him lean against the wall and you did the same, conscious of the little space which separated you both. You pulled your knees up.

“Everything. Grades, friends, family.” The huge crush I have on you, you thought, but didn’t say. “It’s like… this year has gone by so quickly. And everyone is telling us to start looking at universities, and open days, and courses. And this just doesn’t work for me, you know? I can’t see myself that far in the future, if that makes sense? I can’t see myself past next year, let alone when I’m older. And everyone else seems to be able to do this and I just can’t and it just seems like there’s something wrong with me!” You saw him open his mouth at that but you carried on speaking. It was all rushing out. Everything you had held back for so long.

“And… and it’s like, this whole year has just slipped by. I don’t know what I’ve done, and I’m going to be 18 next year, and leave this place, and I just… it’s like I haven’t lived? It’s like my teenage years have rushed past me in this constant worry about grades and school. Not that that has even done any good! I mean, I just failed my mocks and I actually revised this time around. I don’t enjoy anything anymore and I just… Urgh. Sorry. That wasn’t all supposed to come out. I just… I don’t know. I haven’t really let myself say all that to someone before.”

You glanced up at him, expecting a look of shock and horror. A look of regret for even asking. Why would he even want to deal with the mess that you were?

Instead, he was looking at you with an expression you had never seen on him before. A strange mixture of rawness, concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. He looked younger then, in that moment. The emotions he always kept well hidden were written all across his face. You had never seen him like this before.
It was strange. You had just poured out your soul to him but you felt like you should be the one comforting him instead.

You were still looking into his eyes - transfixed by the stream of thoughts which were flashing behind there.

“Mr TC/N? Are you okay?” you ventured.

He kept looking at you with the same expression, but the emotion you couldn’t quite place was becoming more prominent in his eyes.

He smiled. “Yeah… Yeah. Don’t worry. Just a small flashback into the past, you know?” It was a sad smile.

“Do you want to - I mean, I know you have friends who you’d talk to about stuff and you probably don’t want to talk to me but um, do you want to talk about it?” You looked down quickly.

“Y/N. Why would you think that? Why would I not want to talk to you? You know how much you mean to me!”

You looked up, startled.
Had you just heard that right???

“Don’t look so surprised!” He laughed. “Wasn’t that pretty obvious?”

‘Not to me’, you wanted to reply. 'Not to me, when I always overthink and think the worst and never let myself hope. When I notice that you treat me differently but don’t want to admit it. Because if it’s true, if I am right and you do treat me differently - what would that mean? I’d start to hope. And that? That never works out.’

“I mean… I guess?” you replied instead.

He stared at you. “Y/N. I’ve always connected to you in a strange way. It took me a long time to realise why. But you remind me slightly of how I was at your age. Intelligent but insecure. Opinionated but didn’t like confrontation. Quiet but always thinking. And I also didn’t know what to do, where to go. Hell, I didn’t even want to go to university. I mean, can you believe it, I wanted to drop out at 14 and start a rock band!”

You both laughed at that, imagining him with thick black eyeliner in a screamo concert.

“Hey, it sort of worked out, right? I mean… rock band, DJ - pretty interchangeable?” You nudged his elbow, teasing him. Your confidence around him had grown in the last few minutes and to be honest, you had more to lose if you didn’t say anything.

“Piss off,” he said, smiling. “But yeah, I never knew where to go and what to do. And I could never picture myself that far in the future.
I mean there’d be random moments where I’d think that something would be really cool, but when I tried to picture myself in that position, it would all fall apart.”

You nodded. He was describing everything you had been thinking.

“But that’s not the point. This isn’t about me. I’m just hoping this will help with perspective. Because I’m not the most successful person ever, but, and I’m not exaggerating or lying to you, I really enjoy my life. I love my job. The thing is, it all works out, you know? Shit happens and we deal with it and life goes on. And I think we all forget that at times but, again, don’t take me for someone who’s superstitious and all that, but what I’m trying to say is, if you’re meant to get somewhere, it’ll work out! And every single step there doesn’t have to be perfect or the way you thought it’d be. And so it’s fine for people like us! Better, I’d say! For people who don’t have their lives mapped out, I mean - because we’ll go with the flow and if something happens we deal with it and move on. So don’t ever think there’s something wrong with you. Ever.”

He paused, as if he was thinking about whether to say something.
He apparently decided to.

“And… on the opposite side of that, if something, or, um, someone, comes into our life and makes it better? Then we hold on to them too. Against the odds. Against what we are told is right. We take the risk. Because… thats… um.” He had turned slightly red and seemed to be analysing your expression.

You decided to take the risk.

He was trying to backtrack. “Sorry. Um, I don’t know where that last bit came fro-”

He paused and looked down at his hand in surprise. His hand - which you had grabbed a hold of and laced your fingers through.
He looked at you - a mixture of shock and relief, and smiled. Everything was in that smile. Relief and shock, yes. But also, hope.

You smiled back.

And without thinking about it too much for once, tilted your head slightly so it rested comfortably on his shoulder.



Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes sat in an uncomfortable high backed chair in his brother’s drawing room. The only light source the flickering flames in the fireplace, causing the consulting detective’s face to be bathed in dancing shadows. His hands were placed together at the palms, fingertips resting on his Cupid’s bow mouth, eyebrows drawn together over his unfocused stormy blue-green eyes.

Sherlock Holmes couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. He couldn’t stop the deluge of information from spiraling nonstop in his brain. His mind palace was in shambles from the onslaught on data it had received in such a short period of time, the walls threatening to crumble, doors in danger of falling right off the hinges, files and cases in flutters of paper like flakes of snow in a blizzard. He stood at the entrance of his mind palace, staring down the hallway, watching papers blow about in an unseen wind. He knew he needed to start sorting out the mess in his head before it got out of control and he lost all form of organization, knew he should be trying to categorize the events of the last forty-eight hours, but the door at the very end of this particular corridor was calling to him.

He knew where he had to go. He knew whom he must see within the labyrinthine halls of his extensive memory. He knew he needed to open the shaking door and face her. But…

Sherlock Holmes was terrified of what he might find in his subconscious.

The door at the end of the corridor rattled violently on its hinges, the handle twisting and turning as who was behind it tried to force her way out. Steeling himself for a subconscious confrontation, Sherlock started to move towards the door, his mind altering the layout of the halls, forcing the door to meet him halfway, his hand inches from the rattling handle…

“You know you must talk to her, brother mine.” Mycroft’s voice interrupted.

Sherlock came crashing back to reality, blinking the dryness from his eyes; a result of not blinking for such a long period of time. He sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“I know,” Sherlock admitted, not bothering to face his older brother.

Mycroft walked over to the chair opposite Sherlock and sat down heavily. Sherlock flicked a glance his brother’s way, noticing the dark circles under Mycroft’s eyes, the new lines that seemed to find their way onto his face overnight, and the way his waistcoat hung more loosely on him than it had before.

“However hard that must have been at Sherrinford, you must explain to her what happened. Even I know that.” Mycroft said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Sherlock asked in a low voice, folding his arms across his chest, staring deep into the dancing flames before him.

“Explain it to her as you see fit, brother mine.” Mycroft said, staring at the flames for a moment before looking at Sherlock. “But I do suggest that perhaps you should start with the truth.”

“The truth,” Sherlock scoffed. “And how would I even begin to explain that I have a long lost sister, whose memories I repressed because she is psychotic. She has killed numerous people just for the hell of it, became best friends with Moriarty after five minutes worth of conversation, somehow snuck out of a maximum security island prison twice, tried to seduce John, and then became his therapist under a different disguise, and helped me find the most dangerous serial killer in all of London. Oh, and she killed my childhood best friend when she was a child herself, and because of the trauma, I changed my very human friend into a dog in my memories.”

Sherlock clenched his jaw and glared at the flames, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“I see your dilemma,” sighed Mycroft.

Sherlock gripped the arms of the chair with his long white fingers and leaned towards Mycroft.

“Do not pretend for one moment that you even understand feelings, Mycroft.” He spat. “You were there; you saw what Eurus did to me. To her.” Sherlock jumped to his feet and began to pace, his anger causing white hot energy to scream through his veins.

How could so much change in such a short amount of time? Sherlock thought, dragging his hands roughly through his hair. Nothing in the last forty-eight hours made sense to him. How could he go from his biggest problem being a double murder late at night, to having a psychotic sister all of the sudden?

Things were so much simpler before Mary died. Before the Culverton Smith fiasco.

Before Sherrinford.

Just a month before Sherlock’s ill fated journey to the London Aquarium, he had let himself into Molly’s flat with the intention of using her spare bedroom as a quiet place to think, when he found himself standing next to her bed. As always, Molly gave him what he needed without him having to actually ask, and he had fallen asleep with the small pathologist wrapped in his arms.

What had become the norm for them changed completely when Mary died, and Sherlock had lost John Watson’s friendship for a while. He could still remember how sadly Molly had looked at him, standing outside the Watsons’ door, holding their goddaughter. It was such a sharp contrast to the laughing, comfortable Molly that had stood beside him at little Rosie’s christening, jokingly reprimanding him for giving his phone more attention than his goddaughter.

The day she had given him the note from John, had repeated John’s hurtful words to him, was the last time he had seen her sober.

The night he showed up to her flat, high from a mixture of cocaine and morphine, she had taken one look at his stubbled jaw and unkempt hair, and slammed the door soundly in his face. He had left her a note (slid underneath her door) asking to please meet him at the following address in two weeks’ time. Three days later he received a text from her. It was short and to the point, saying she would be there.

She refused to answer any of his following messages. And refused to talk to him the whole drive to meet with Culverton Smith, except her outburst when John had shown up.

“For Christ’s sake, Sherlock! It’s not a game!” she had practically screamed at him.

He looked at her, properly, for the first time since she had slammed the door in his face. Sherlock noticed the dark circles under her eyes, how limp her hair seemed. Her face was drawn, and her nails were shorter where she had bitten them.

“I’m worried about you, Molly.” Sherlock said, looking closer at her, trying to see through the haze of the drugs in his system. “You seem very stressed…”

Molly threw him a dirty look. “I’m stressed, you’re dying!” she spat venomously.

He couldn’t resist getting a jab in, not in his altered state.

“Yeah, well, I’m ahead, then.” He said, his eyes flashing for just a moment.

The look she gave him haunted him for the next month.

All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before, when everything was simple, and his actions went unquestioned. He just wanted to let himself into Molly’s flat whenever he felt like it, wanted to slide into her bed and wrap her in his arms and get some actual sleep. He wanted to-

“Oh!” Sherlock exclaimed, halting in his pacing.

His outburst woke Mycroft, who had dozed off in his chair. He looked wildly around, before his eyes settled on his little brother. Sherlock was still as a statue, eyes wide.

After ten minutes of Sherlock staring unblinkingly at nothing in particular, Mycroft decided to break the silence.

“Care to inform me what I could’ve missed, that you have somehow deduced?” Mycroft drawled.

“This is my fault.” Sherlock murmured, still staring straight ahead, lost in his mind.

“Your fault?” Mycroft asked. “Sherlock, we have discussed this. This whole matter of Eurus, of what happened at Sherrinford, everything, none of it is your fault. You were a child when it started-“

“No, Mycroft! Molly! Eurus choosing Molly for her demented little game. That was all my fault!” Sherlock said, snapping his eyes to Mycroft.

Mycroft closed his mouth and looked at his younger brother with wide eyes.

Of course! Thought Sherlock. It was his own entire fault! Why else did Moriarty choose unassuming little Mousey Molly Hooper to get close to him? Why not choose John? Or Mrs. Hudson? Or even Lestrade? The answer was simple. Sherlock was always telling John that he never observed, and after all this time, it was Sherlock who chose not to observe what was right in front of his face.

Molly Hooper mattered most.

The years he had been using her flat as a bolt hole. All the years he would sprawl on her couch, or go through her fridge, or do experiments in her bathtub. All the nights they would share meals together (Molly being the only one who could actually convince Sherlock to eat on a semi-regular basis), or watch crap telly. All the days he would actually clean up after himself while he was at her flat because she liked things neat, whereas he would leave a trail of destruction at his own.

And now, most recently, all the nights he fell asleep content to just be holding Molly in his arms.

How long had the cameras Eurus used been in Molly’s flat? Half a year? A year? Two? Five? Did it really matter? One week of watching footage from Molly and Sherlock’s interactions would have been more than enough for someone as smart as his sister to deduce how he felt about her.

The one person, they thought who didn’t count, mattered most of all.

And it had been used against him.

Sherlock realized that he kneeling on the floor, not quite remembering how he ended up getting there. He looked up from his hands to Mycroft, eyes wide and full of doubt and questions.

“What do I do, Mycroft?” Sherlock asked in a strained voice, looking to Mycroft very much like his baby brother from childhood.

Mycroft looked back at him, and for once the older brother’s face held none of its usual contempt.

“What you must.” Mycroft replied.

The biggest of shoutouts to @forthe for making this actually readable, you are the best proof reader that has ever existed! And to @moll for her invaluable ideas, thank you for putting up with my seven million emails a day! A huge thanks to both of you for your continuous encouragement, because without your support, my writing would never see the light of day. And thank you, readers, for your continued kind words about my fics, y'all are the best!!



i can’t believe I used to think you were cool you’re not cool at all, Locus, you’re a huge loser oh my god

you big awkward baby i love you so much

Longing - Yoongi

Originally posted by gingervernon

Group: BTS
Member: Yoongi
Type: Smut
Word count: + 3300
Warnings: sexual content! , violence, cursing, mentions of blood

A/N: Inspired by the new MV for Min Yoongi’s mixtape and title track Agust D

His eyes slowly fluttered open to the blurry sight of what looked like his apartment, but trashed to the ground. He immediately squeezed them shut again when he felt a sharp pain gushing through the side of his head, his temple pounding with every heartbeat. As he hissed through his teeth, attempting to stabilize the twinge by applying pressure on the painful spot, he noticed he couldn’t move his hands. He kept trying to mobilize them again until he finally realised they were tied together behind his back.

‘What the…Fucking shit!’, he growled, frantically twisting and thrashing in all possible angles, struggling to free himself from the extremely uncomfortable position on his kitchen chair.

‘You finally awake huh? Had a nice beauty sleep pretty boy?’, a mocking voice resonated through the air, making Yoongi snap his head back up to meet the amused eyes of a man leaning against the wall in the door opening.

‘You…’, Yoongi rasped, his voice still wrecked from being unconscious for over an hour, but his eyes burning fiercely.

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anonymous asked:

For one sentence prompt Can you please have Adrien saying: "What, Ladybug and Chat Noir would make a great couple!"


“What, Ladybug and Chat Noir would make a great couple!” Adrien argued, utterly appalled that his classmate would even dare to curse Paris’ favorite power couple, which Alya had deemed “Ladynoir”. Though Adrien knew all too well that the two of them weren’t a couple, many Parisians loved to gossip about the relationship between their beloved heroes. But not her, apparently. 

“Ladybug could do way better than Chat Noir. She’s too good for him,” she stated bluntly. Well Adrien couldn’t argue with that. It was true, and he, frankly, believed Ladybug was too good for anyone. She was just too perfect.

“Well, to each their own,” Adrien responded. “I thought you liked them as a couple though, Chloe. Most Ladybug fans do.”

“Well, Adrikins, I’m not an average Ladybug fan. I am her biggest fan. We’re practically besties!” Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “That Chat Noir is so much lamer than Ladybug. Honestly, if I were Ladybug I wouldn’t even keep him around. I’d make a way better partner than that stupid cat boy.”

“What’s wrong with Chat Noir?” Adrien mumbled, mostly to himself. 

“Ladybug deserves someone who understands how amazing she is, someone who would do anything for her, and someone who is almost as pretty as she is.” That ticked Adrien off ever so slightly. 

“Chat Noir does respect Ladybug, Chloe,” Adrien responded. “He definitely knows that Ladybug is better than him. He knows she’s amazing. He cares for her, takes hits for her, and risks his life every day to be there for her.” 

Chloe gave a hmmph and looked at her nails, feigning disinterest, but looking more annoyed as Adrien continued to talk.  

“None of that means he’s entitled to her,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t say that,” Adrien quickly corrected. “I’m not saying she has to like Chat Noir, but can’t deny that he loves her. And I…I…I think he’s a good candidate.” Chloe didn’t meet his gaze, pulling out a compact and checking her makeup. 

“To each their own,” she finally said, mocking his earlier tone. Still feeling a bit hurt, Adrien gathered his things, wanting to end the conversation before he lost control of his emotions. But a small voice in his head told him he couldn’t get let Chloe have the last word like that. 

“Fair enough,” he said. “But then who, may I ask, would be perfect for Ladybug?” Chloe met his gaze, her expression unreadable. There was some silence. It seemed for a minute that Chloe was itching to say something. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just scoffed again, shrugged, and turned her gaze back into the mirror, shooing Adrien away with her hand. With a sigh, the model stood up from the table and exited the cafe. Chloe must not have had someone in mind; she had probably realized what he had figured out a long time ago–no one was worthy of Ladybug.

In reality, Chloe had someone in mind. The person in the mirror. Not that she would admit that to anyone.


Requests are still open! Likes, reblogs, and follows are always appreciated! <3

promises || theo raeken

description: in which theo comes to the realization that he’s painfully, unconditionally in love with you, and it terrifies him

requested by: anonymous

warnings: hints of smut, angst, mentions of death, panic attack

notes: i changed this a little just a little from the original request, but it still deals with the same thing

For the first time in his entire life, Theo Raeken didn’t know what to do. 

He always had an answer to everything, always knew what to say, what to do, was always able to talk himself out of a sticky situation with his clever words and honey smooth voice. He was the confident, cocky asshole. It just came natural to him. 

But his overconfidence diminished the moment he let you in. 

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Special Friends: Chapter 23

Submitted by: Panicattackkisses

Description:  When Stiles’ phone buzzed and lit up with the image of Lydia with two chopsticks in her mouth, he answered immediately.
“I thought I told you you can’t keep calling me up for meaningless, mind blowing sex, Lydia”.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance, Angst, Action

All Chapters

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Call - Taeyang (m)

Originally posted by kpop-biasedx

(Admin: Babyboiii, honestly I like this request like idk why, but I like the thought I got for it.)

You couldn’t express how glad you were Taeyang had called you telling you he needed to see you. You were pretty sure if he had waited any longer to call you, you’d end up jumping him next time you saw him. You pulled your coat on walking from your apartment building to the hotel he told you he’d be at. You knew how these meetups would go down by this point. It had been almost a month since the last one, though, which was unusual for Taeyang, he usually had a schedule he’d keep two when it came to your relations.

You tapped your foot in the elevator impatiently, once the door opened to the floor he was on you checked your phone for the room number as you walked down the hallway finally stopping outside of room 408. You knocked on the door him opening it shortly after, he wasted no time getting you inside of the room and having you against the door his lips moving desperately against your own.

His hand held your cheek his hips pressing your lower half firmly against the door, one of his legs pushing your own apart. He bit your bottom lip sucking the flesh before he pulled away from your lips.

“I’ve missed you baby girl,” your voice caught in your throat, your breathing already heavy. He chuckled, “you’ve missed me too,” he leaned towards your neck sucking harsh marks onto the skin.

His name fell past your lips, your hands holding onto his shoulders, he hummed smirking against your neck. He pulled the zipper of your jacket down pulling it from your shoulders his lips never leaving your neck. His hands ran under the bottom of your shirt running up your sides, He finally pulled away from your neck pulling your shirt up, you helped him to get it off of your head, he pulled his own shirt off pressing his now uncovered upper body against your own.

You trailed your hands down his back feeling the way he shivered slightly from your light touch. He pulled you from the door pulling you towards the bed, he pushed you onto the bed him settling his weight on your own afterward. His eyes burned into yours.

“You don’t know how much I need you right now,” his eyes showed sincerity covered in lust, his eyes devoured your upper body.

He rolled his hips down into your own a groan passing his lips, his eyes fluttered to a close as he continued to grind himself onto you. He kept his hips firmly pressed into your own, his eyes opening to stare into your own, his hands hooked under the top of your pants trying to shove them down. You lifted your hips up so he could pull them down. He pulled them off of you harshly, he then tugged your panties down you trailed your hands to his belt undoing it in a teasingly slow manner.

He growled, you finally pulled his belt off, your eyes fluttering up to meet his innocently, he swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Don’t tease me Y’N,” he growled out, you bit the inside of your lip pulling his pants down, you continued to pull his boxers off, he looked down towards your lower half.

His hands held your thighs moving towards your inner thighs he inched one of his hands up until it came in contact with your core.  He pushed your folds apart before pushing two fingers inside of you, you lifted your hips up whining, he chuckled pumping them in a slow teasing manner, like how you had removed his belt. He curled his fingers still pumping them in and out of you. His other hand held your hips down to keep you from bucking into his touch letting him tease you, he suddenly sped up his movements, you covered your mouth with your arm crying out from the sudden pace.

He pulled his fingers from you shortly after bringing them to his mouth licking them clean of your fluids. He leaned over you to the bedside table grabbing a condom, he ripped the packet open with his teeth, he slid the latex over his length before settling his weight on your own, his head burying into your shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance his tip sliding over your folds pushing lightly into them before he finally let himself slide in between your folds. 

He pushed slowly into you, you let out breathy moans of his name, he sighed against your neck once he finally reached the base of his length inside of you. He gave you a minute to adjust before he started to tease you with slow deep thrusts hitting a spot that made you see stars.

“Faster, please,” you breathed out, he chuckled against your neck.

“Be patient baby girl,” he gave a few quicker deep thrusts before slowing to his original pace. 

He eventually lost his control to keep the slow pace he had speeding up with his own need to reach a release. He held tightly onto your hip with one hand the other rubbing rough circles on your swollen clit, you couldn’t help the moans that fell from your mouth, one of your hands clawing down his back.

“Fuck Y’N,” he said breathing heavily against your neck, you felt his member twitch inside of you, the heat from his release in the latex noticeable. Your walls tightened around him your own release coming shortly after, he thrust into you a few more times letting the both of you ride out your orgasms.

“God I missed you,” he pulled himself from you, removing the latex from himself tossing it into the trash. he threw himself onto the bed, “do you want to stay here with me, or are you leaving,” you didn’t move from the bed groaning, he chuckled pulling the blanket over you, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his chest.

“Goodnight Y’N,” you muttered a good night back to him falling asleep shortly after.

(A’N: Yo I hope no one gets mad at me for writing smut about a debut group, but like I mean, it’s not like he’s an illegal member.)

|| Masterlist || Submit A Request ||

“I’ll see you again.” (part 14)

Originally posted by loveviral

Summary: A Credence Barebone imagine (Credence x Reader)

Note: This is the 14th part to this imagine so make sure you check out the others! I hope you like and reblog it. There also will most likely be a grammar mistake so bare with me. Anyway… I hope you enjoy! Also how have I written 14 of these things!?!

Date published: February 21, 2017

Warnings: mentions of abuse, and WAY too much cuteness to handle, a bit of fluff–(you’re welcome)

Year: 1926

Part: fourteen of ?



You woke up to the shaking of your apartment. Your eyes shot open and you sat up quickly. It was still dark, the clock on your mantle said 3:23 a.m. You were a little confused at first of what was going on, but you quickly realized what was causing it. You pulled the cover off of you and ran up the stairs to find Credence. He was laying on his side. His body was shaking and black matter was floating around him. You gently reached out and touched his arm. “Credence.” You said calmly, not wanting to frighten him. He shot up, all of the Obscurus quickly absorbing back into him. His hair was wet from the sweat dripping down his face. You sat down on the side of the bed, still looking at him. “I’m sorry for waking you up.” He said, quietly. “It’s okay.” You smiled at him. “Do you want to tell me about it?” You asked him, trying to get him to look you in the eye. He was a little hesitant, but find began to speak. “It was that night, in the subway station.” He began, “You were there and-” Tears started to come to his eyes. You placed your hand in his hand, that rested in his lap. He took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Mr.-” He paused, taking a deep breath again. “Mr. Gr-Graves.” You could tell it took everything out of him to say that name. “He had you with his wand pointed at you. I-I tried to take him down, but I-” Tears started to stream down his face. You squeezed his hand tighter. “I m-missed and hurt you.” He said, bursting into tears. You moved to sit next to him. You still held his hand, but you intertwined your fingers. He squeezed your hand so tight. You placed your other hand on his forearm, stroking it with your thumb. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.” You told him. “But what if it’s not? What if I hurt you one day?” He said, with a shaky voice. “You’re not going to hurt me-”
“I can’t control it.” He cut you off.
“You haven’t burst out since that night.”
“I’m so sorry.” He started, crying again. "For what?“ You asked. "I-l” He blubbered out. He then crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. You followed him, confused. He bent down and moved the bath mat, to reveal a few cracked tiles. “Did you do this?” You asked. He nodded, tears falling down his cheek. “When?” You asked, bending down to get a better look. “Yesterday. When I got the mail by myself.– Are you mad at me?” He got quieter as he spoke. 

“Of course not.” You said, placing your hand on his cheek. He leaned into your sweet touch. You rubbed your thumb against his tear stained face and gave him a sweet smile. “Really. Don’t worry about it.” You told him. “I just wish you wouldn’t have been afraid to tell me.”

You stood up, helping him stand as well. You placed both hands on his cheeks. He was hunched over, still crying. “Credence.” You said, resting your forehead on his. “Please stop crying.” His sobs started to slow down. “You need to get some sleep.” You said, leading him back to bed. He climbed in and you covered him up. You moved his damp hair away from his face and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Sleep tight.” You whispered. You turned away about to walk down the stairs when, “(Y/N)?” You turned back to see Credence sitting up, leaning back on his elbows. “Will you- Will you stay with me, till I fall asleep?” Even in the dark you could tell Credence was blushing. You smiled at him and said, “Sure." 

You walked over to the bed, as Credence scooted over. You crawled in beside him. You were slightly sitting up against the wall and Credence laid awkwardly beside you. You laid in the silence for a while then you felt a slight touch on your hand. Credence slowly wrapped his fingers between yours. You squeezed his back, rubbing your thumb on the top of his hand. You then pulled his hand closer to you, giving him the courage to scoot in. He wrapped his arm around you, laying his head on your chest. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, hugging him tight. He let out a content sigh, which made you smile. You both fell asleep.

You gently woke up, stretching your legs and arms. You rubbed your eyes and laid there for a few seconds. Your mind was sort of blank. It almost felt like you were back in time, before you had met Credence. Then you realized what had happened last night. You turned your head to look beside you. Nothing. He wasn’t laying there. You quickly shot out of bed, so many thought rushing through your head. ‘Where could he be? Did he leave? Did you push him too much?’ You thought, running down the stairs. Halfway down the stairs you stopped. There he was, in the kitchen. When he saw you he froze, his cheeks turning a slight shade of red. You continued down the stairs, noticing he was making breakfast. You bit your bottom lip, trying not to smile at the sight of him in front of the stove. He was making eggs and toast. It reminded you of the time he had first spent the night. "You made breakfast?” You asked, smiling at him. He nodded, shyly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Wanted to.” He replied, quietly. “You’ve done so much for me.”
You smiled at his words. To Credence your smile was the best part about everyday. He loved when you smiled, especially when he put it there. The next thing he realized was that something smelled like it was burning. He quickly turned around to see that the toast was burning. Smoke was coming from the toaster as he tried to pull the bread out. Within all the chaos he burned his hand. He stepped away from the stove, clutching his hand. You rushed over to him. “Are you okay?” You asked, holding his clutched hands. He opened up his hands, revealing the burns. You held the backs of his hands, something you hadn’t done in a long time. He hissed in pain. “Come here.” You said, leading him to his chair. You sat him down and went to the cupboard to get the burn cream and bandages.

You started to gently spread the cream on his palm. He flinched in pain. “Sorry.” You said, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. It all reminded of you of before, when he got beaten. You were thankful he was here with you, away from his past life. You wrapped his hand with gause and gently held his hand. “I’ll finish breakfast.” You said, standing up from a crouched down potion. “No- I want to.” He said, standing up. “But your hand-”
“It’s fine.” He said, stretching it out. “Are you sure?” You said, hoping he would just let you finish it. “Yeah.” He said, walking over to you, taking the spatula out of your hand. You smiled as he walked passed you, to the stove. He mixed the eggs and put two new pieces of bread in the toaster. He then turned and pulled out your chair, gesturing you to sit down. “Thank you.” You smiled at him, sitting down.

He placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. Then put his plate at his place and sat down. “Thank you, Credence.” You said, smiling. He looked up at you and said, “You’re welcome.”

About halfway through breakfast you said, “So I was thinking, since it’s my day off that I would go Christmas shopping. Would you maybe want to come with me?” You looked at him with big eyes. You really wanted him to come with you, but you also didn’t want to push him too hard. He looked up at you, with worry in his eyes. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” You added.
“Do you think I’m ready?” He asked, quietly. “I think you can do anything.” You told him. He gave a small smile. He couldn’t believe that someone believed in him that much. “What if I- what if I lose control?” He nervously asked.
“I don’t think you will. You’ve been out in the city dozens of times before and never lost control.”
“That was before-” He trailed off. “I think you can do it.” You said, reaching out across the table, holding his hand. You thought all he needed was a little confidence, and he could do anything. He sat there staring at your hand, holding his. “Okay.” He said, quietly. You stood up and excitedly clasped your hands together, “Okay! I’ll get ready.” You ran upstairs to get ready.

To be continued…


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