but just look at his face in the first he's so proud

SnK Chapter 98 Poll Results

The chapter 98 poll closed with a record 1,771 responses. Thank you to everyone for participating. 

 
RATE THE CHAPTER

(1,711 RESPONSES)

If you disliked this chapter, you were very much in the minority. Only 1% of respondents rated it poorly. Satisfaction with recent Marley chapters have been generally positive, but this is the highest rating since we started the poll.

This chapter was so fire I had to call 911 after I read it

Goddamned life ruining basements.

Sadly, SNK is eventually going to end, and having taken the time to properly explain its unique universe and its characters will that day leave to this world the completed masterpiece it has the potential to be

I gasped during the “I’m Dr. Yeagar’” scene, but I almost threw my phone from excitement from the “Hey, it’s been 4 years huh Reiner.” I was one of the people that thought I wouldn’t care for the young Warriors, but damn, this chapter won me over. Especially Falco. The awesome character building scenes, the mystery behind Tybur & Magath, the attitude’s of the vet Warriors, and Eren’s new shred of awesomeness made this one of my favorite chapters.

Magath is still making me wet with his humanity, Willy needs a hug and some Hellos D, I can’t believe the East Sea Clan is actually a thing (eeeek) and if Falco gets hurt I will die. Also where’s Annie.

I think the entire chapter could be my favorite moment.

Willy and Magath vs Levi for clean house?

When Jaegerbowl became SUPER JAEGER BROTHERS, GET HYPE EVERYBODY

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Insufferable (M)

🎃 word count: 2k

🎃 genre: smut ; college au

🎃 pairing: male reader/yoongi

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): dry humping, slight voyuerism, flirting

🎃 summary: you consider yourself a great best friend to yoongi and he does too, so much so that he thinks that as best friends and close roommates, something else should be done to bring the two of you closer

🎃 requested by: anon - “For kinktober can you do a male reader x yoongi thing Where he’s your roommate and best friend and you find out he has a dry humping kink after walking in on him jerking it in his room”

🎃 music: tomorrow - bts

🎃 masterlist + kinktober 2017

Originally posted by yoongiyi

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New Beginnings Part 10

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 5,881

Warnings:  Swearing, Fluff and Smut (Unprotected Sex, wrap it before tap it)

Ratings: NC-17 (Explicit)

Summary: After your grandparents pass away, you find out they leave everything to you, including a large sum of money.  Deciding to take the advice of your grandparents, you live your life to the fullest; which means moving to Boston and bumping into Chris Evans.

The grand opening of “Bean There, Read That” could only be described as one word: successful.  You knew, deep down that it really helped bring in more people since Chris was on hand for autographs and photographs; but you didn’t care.  He was your loving, compassionate, caring boyfriend who honestly did you a favor, and you loved him even more.

The achievement that you accomplished with your shop was something you would never forget.  Little kids came up to hug at your legs; parents stopped by to shake your hand and congratulate your new business, saying how excited they were to have a new book and coffee shop in town.  

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She’s waiting.

So it’s probably already been done but i’m wallowing deep in the Wish hook junkyard and this attacked me out of nowhere. 

So I thought i’d share lol. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge cos she’s mah Santiago. 

Detective Rogers has a lot of things on his mind that he can’t explain. 




He’s great at zoning out. He’s not sure if it’s something he’s learnt to do with the job or if he’s just always been a patient man, but it certainly comes in handy at times like this.

There’s an irritating fellow in front of him doing his best to order the most complicated of drinks, possibly only to get the satisfaction of making the barista’s life a misery. He seems the type of arrogant man that would sue the poor lad for getting the wrong texture of foam on his drink but… he doesn’t want to assume.

He stands with his arms meeting neatly behind his back, a firm and upright stance that resembles something out of the military. He’s not sure if it was something taught at the academy or if it again is just something that came naturally to him over the years.

As the arse in front who’s most certainly suffering from ‘little man syndrome’ continues to dictate to the young barista, he finds his gaze wandering aimlessly around the establishment.

Light wood chairs with the barest hint of fabric on the seat to make them at least appear comfortable to sit on. Plain walls with a mixture of painted stripes in shades of cream and brown he’s sure have names like ‘cream tea’, ‘hazelnut’ and ‘mocha’.

The display cooler is a mix of bottled sodas and plastic wrapped sandwiches that look both unappetising and stone cold. He’s sure they’ve been sitting there a while.

His eyes then land on the glass display that acts half as the service counter. An array of sweet treats litter the glowing glass container. Walnut cake, brownies, apple tarts, iced buns.

Iced buns.

He hasn’t seen one of those in-

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Could you?

Summary: Y/n and Steve get stuck in a Hydra base, the Hydra agents still coming.

Prompt: ,,Did you really think I would leave without you?”

Word Count: 798

Pairings: Steve x reader

Warnings: I think it’s just my bad writing, yeah.

A/N: So this is for @buckthegrump’s ‘Pick Your Poison Writing Challenge.’ I dunno. It’s just bad. :D I’m bad in ending stories… Yeah, and if you didn’t get it, the reader has an ability to hide in shadows. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t get it, though. :D

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when i was seven the sea-witch cursed me.

she cursed my great-grandfather, actually, who had spat on the hands of the ocean and disrespected the beating heart of the earth - for what else are waves but a pulse - who was silly and violent and who tried to rip from the water what was hers by rights. we were wealthy, before that, a family of merchants. my mother says in her youth she recalls white horses, the gleam of candles, early mornings with bread baked fresh by a horde of servants.

he didn’t ask permission to cross her. that’s what my mother tells me while she spoons porridge with no flavor into the wood of my bowl. he had no faith in superstition, rode with boats that were more decoration than strength, the folly of a man who was cruel and vain and proud of his own gold teeth. the sky had been blue, so regardless of what the village witch said, he would sail that day. and when his boat sank; their lives turned blue like the sky that day.

my mother says she thinks the curse on the men of our family, even if they come in when they marry, is that they will forever be violent, too foolish to see the storm on the horizon. she whispers this to me on the eve of my seventh birthday, while father is his own storm, thundering around the house, looking for her. later, when i am cleaning the cut by her cheek, she tells me the curse is on the women to forever be unhappy, to wane until they are shadows, to walk into the deep like a sinking ship. 

we don’t burn candles often, they are too expensive. she tells me this in the silk of a dark room. the moon kisses her hair. 

in three days, my mother will walk into the ocean, and my father will be my own problem. the curse will pass onto me. 

my father does not believe in superstition, no curse to conquer him. when he is gone, and i am heartbroken, i go to the village witch. i ask her to teach me about magic, and other things, and about how the ocean can be coaxed, and how to save my father’s soul. 

and my hands rot too, keeping a house by myself with things i barely knew. i learn the art of a good scrubbing, keep my mind full of white horses while i endlessly clean, dream of candles in dark while i make the bread that he will not allow me to eat. he keeps me from the ocean, from visiting the place that took my mom, from following in her footsteps where the water makes women undone.

i am sixteen when i see her in the water of a bowl. she scares me so completely that i drop it, and my father comes in with his hands, and the curse, and i almost forget all about it. it isn’t until after that i realize she is beautiful, and young, which surprises me. 

i think about it every evening. her face becomes distorted to me. i can no longer remember the exact shape of it, only the impression of beauty. 

i turn seventeen and wait for the high moon. i pin safety to my vest in little witch herbs and runes. i put naked toes on the sand and slip closer, closer, to the avenue of my family’s doom. i find a little private beach, small and surrounded by rocks, hidden from my father in the event he ever thought to come looking. at high tide, it is barely the span of my body. at low, it feels empty.

the witch of the land has given me what i need to call in the witch of the sea, but i do not use it. it feels wrong, somehow, standing here in the wind and the quiet pulse of the world. i put down the incense and sage and i sit just close enough it feels wild, dangerous - but not close enough to get caught up in thrill. 

when nothing happens, i go home and i make bread that i will not eat.

for months i do this. i climb down to my beach. i learn to do it when the moon is half, and then when the moon is empty. i learn to do it so well that sometimes i go to sleep in my own bed and wake up by the water. i take to sleeping with warding runes to keep me from being pulled in the rip out to the waiting hands of a hungry sea-witch.

i don’t know when i start talking. more often i sing, because singing in my house is not allowed, and something about the way the rocks echo my voice feels comforting. the older i get, the more i can pretend i hear my mother’s voice, answering me, harmonizing gently. i sing songs about sadness and lullabies about curses. when i have exhausted every song i know, i write new ones about fathers who have never learned how to be kind, about the house i work in but do not love, about mothers who left, and about a sea witch.

i see her sometimes. in a puddle, in the drop of rain, in the strangest places. i never expect it, although i always hope. i am never able to see her for more than the length of a wave, breaking, and each time, it does something new to my heart.

at eighteen i am too much of my father’s burden. he tries to unload me onto other men. the land witch helps me with this. i rub hemlock, burn wolfsbane. we arrange so these men have other women to marry. the news of my curse is bad enough to scare most away. my father is not happy.

after a particularly savage night, i wonder how bad it could be. i could marry some boy from the village who didn’t quite bother me. i suppose they’re not ugly. timothy had always been gentle to me. i think about a life, and how i am cursed to be unhappy. my father would finally be proud of me.

i walk to the beach and i tell the waves about him and how i could convince myself it was love if i just never wanted from him. how i could be okay, if not content, how i could be free, how i already had learned life down on knees.

but i go home and i write a rune of warding. and the years pass and i find reasons each suitor is wanting. and the sea witch i see, sometimes, peeking out at me, staying long each time in the water, looking, watching. i see her in mirrors when my father storms against me. it is bad because he mistakes the cause of my smiling. it is better when she is there the next morning.

and i go to the ocean. when i am too sad to speak, it seems like the ocean is whispering for me. i picture my mother’s voice and tell myself i am happy. i am seven again and we are sewing. i am seven again and the curse has not been given to me. i am seven and she came home after she walked to the sea.

i grow silly, brave, unthinking. i leave behind the herbs and i wade deep. i teach myself the art of swimming. i am bad at it, at first, but something about it feels good to me. like the ocean wants to buoy me. in the day i think of it, guilty. what if there was a rip tide, and the water took me? who would care for my father if i stepped off the beach into a long drop? wasn’t i clever enough to know that the ocean is uncaring?

it is not this that does it. i go out after a rain and i slip on the rocks and suddenly i am in water above my head but without the moon i cannot see the up of it. i kick and i thrash and the water surrounds me. the tide pulls on my body and in the cold i feel my body grow weary. water spills into me. it punches through my body, up my nose and into my lungs and some part of me knows this is what mother felt before she was gone.

i kick ground by accident, reorient, drag myself heaving and spitting into the air. i lie there for a long time, half in and half out of death, enjoying the sensation of breathing and of life.

when i look up, i think i see her, watching me, her brows knit with something like worry. but we make eye contact and my heart leaps and then she is gone and i am left alone with nothing but the dawn breaking.

my father is furious when there is no bread. he finds my hair wet, and the salt of the ocean still smelling on me. and that is it. that day he goes out and pays someone to agree to marry me.

this feels right to me, i think. i’m twenty-one, three times seven, a perfect number for a curse to fully come down on me. i will be wed in three weeks.

the land witch comes to visit me. she looks like she’s sorry for me. she gives me a spell and tells me to put it under my pillow; i’ll dream of love and it will soothe me. instead i dream of the seawitch, and how wonderful she is, and the sight of her, out on the water, worried.

even though it is risky, i go down to the beach. i do not bother with protective spells, i have already seen that the water can kill me. fear alone keeps me from wandering. i sit on the beach and in the sand i draw runes for understanding and i make the small magicks i’ve spent years learning and i close my eyes and i ask the ocean “why do you do this to me.”

i fall asleep. i dream that the sea witch talks to me. i dream she is my age, that she is the great-granddaughter of the first to curse my family. i dream she has spent years watching, learning, finding the truth of me. that she just needs to get the courage to come and speak, that she has fallen in love with my singing, that she knows no curse but the one in her heart that brings her back to a human, to a creature of air and not water, to a mistake in the making.

in the dawn i know it is a dream and no more. i make bread. i pour water out before it can make mirrors. i do not look. i do not like the ache that has filled me, as if i’ve been looking for an answer and the answer only leads to longing.

the man i meet - my husband-to-be - is delighted by the house i keep. he believes a woman should keep in her place, and her place should be clean. he hears from neighbors that sometimes i sneak out to the land witch’s house. laughter barks out of him. not going to allow that behavior, not me. he does not believe in curses. he will pack me up and move me from the ocean to somewhere in the mountains, where i know nobody. and i will, he promises, learn to keep my place, and that place clean.

i tell myself i could love him. he is not ugly. he says i’m pretty enough after whiskey. my father mentions i used to sing. i refuse to perform for these men so instead i make them cookies. they laugh and talk about me, even when i am in the room, as if they cannot even see. they shake hands and talk about how useless a woman is for much else than breeding. it’s very funny. the man meets my eyes and promises he’ll put a baby in me. i look down and pretend the thrill i feel is excitement, not fear brewing in me.

the land witch comes by a week before my wedding. she is smaller these days, aging. her apprentice and i get along wonderfully. the two women stand before me, holding something. 

a small box, so tiny and lovely. “break the curse,” the witch whispers, “learn to be happy.”

i smuggle the box, take it everywhere with me. it is days before i have a moment to slip away, to open it by the sea. i take a candle with me, even though my father will notice and be angry.

by the light of fire i read the spell they have left me inside, and then i am so full of gratitude i cannot stop crying.

it must be a full moon, so i must wait. in the meantime, i walk home, and i bake. 

i do not see the seawitch, even though i look for her. maybe i have wounded her, getting married. my father asks why i keep smiling. i tell him it is because i am finally with a man. he grunts and says to stop looking so silly. 

the man kisses me. i let him. we are married on a night with a full moon, and i poison him and my father in the bread i did not eat. i think of how these men were cursed so they could not see a storm coming. i watch them as they lie there, dying, and then i put all of the things i own into a basket for the land witch. i leave it there with a song i wrote for her, a spell i know will make her happy, will stop the aging of her joints, will give her the kind of relief she gave me. 

i go down to the water. i find myself running, even though i am in no hurry. i know the way so well it is like i wake up there, panting. i ask permission first. i lay out the contents of the box, i organize and practice and when the needle and pain comes, i am ready for it. i am used to pain at night. i breathe into it and walk naked into waters that swallowed my mother.

i chew bitter herbs. i swallow fire. i feel myself drown as i change from land witch to sea witch. 

when it is done, i open my eyes in the deep of a moonlit ocean. and i see her. 

this time she does not flicker. this time when i reach for her, she is there, and she is pushing my hair out of my eyes, and we are kissing with the ocean rejoicing around us, and i am laughing, and i hear her voice as clear as bell inside me.

and we live like this, a whole world between us where white horses are the size of pinky fingers and swim with their thin snouts, where i need no candles because i was raised lightless, where we have no servants but the water takes care of us. i show her the magic of land and she unfolds the magic of water. together we are unstoppable. when i come up to the air to sing little girls a promise that they can survive the madness, she sings with me, and we make a beautiful harmony.

Loser’s High school HC

Mike:

  • Is involved in so many fucking sports it’s insane.
  • Is on the basketball, baseball, and football teams, plus he dabbles in lacrosse
  • Is in about ten different clubs including the environmental club, animal rights activists, the culture club, cooking club, and the sports club.
  • Has also won class rep every year he’s been in high school because he’s so fucking popular
  • Works at an animal shelter
  • All the teachers love him
  • All the students love him
  • Still manages to be an awesome friend to the entire loser’s club
  • Gives lots of activism speeches
  • Will take in your pets
  • Does a lot of babysitting
  • Can recite literally the entire town’s history
  • Will name random historical facts out of nowhere
  • Is the librarian’s favorite person in the world
  • Can tell you where any book in the library is
  • Volunteers for wayyy too many things, including the library
  • Somehow always finds time to hang out with the Losers
  • Has taught all of the Loser’s how to cook with varying degrees of success (because of Richie)

Beverly:

  • Is president of the women’s club and equal rights club
  • Is confident and proud of being a “Loser”, even though technically she’s so well liked that no body calls her that anymore
  • Strong and independently awesome
  • Has a column in the school paper for fashion advice
  • Will fucking destroy someone who bullies someone else (as the three idiots, who thought picking a fight with Eddie right in front of her was a good idea, soon found out)
  • Does the costume designs for every school play and is absolutely amazing at it
  • Works at a pizza parlor that all the Loser’s hang out at
  • Kicks Richie out of the pizza parlor at least once a week
  • Will totally talk to you about anything
  • Will never judge you
  • Started dating Ben in sophomore year after Bill and her decided they were better off as friends

Ben:

  • Totally loves Beverly and treats her like a queen
  • Slimmed down a bit, but still acts the same
  • Is the president of both the poetry club and the pottery club- the latter he singed up on accident for (thinking it was the poetry club at first glance).
  • Ben is so kind and nice that even though he can’t do pottery for shit he always helps everyone else in the club, so they all unanimously decided he should be the president
  • His mother is an absolute sweet heart that treats the Loser’s like her babies
  • Always gets conned into giving Richie money that he knows he’ll never get back
  • Coined the term “Once a Loser, Always a Lover”
  • Will stay up all night helping others do homework
  • Will bring cakes for literally every event
  • Is somehow the world’s best speller
  • Will edit English essays for free
  • Knows the lyrics to literally every pop song
  • Is in choir

Eddie:

  • Is still a germaphobe
  • Is the biology/health teacher’s favorite student and can often be found giving the younger kids tutorials
  • Swears he was conned into dating Richie and the only reason they haven’t broken up is because of the discount he gets at the ice cream place Richie works at (even though all of the Losers have walked in on them making out happily)
  • Always has the word Lo(s)ver written on his arm because Richie can’t resist
  • Is still bullied a bit but gives exactly zero shits because, dammit, he faced everyone’s worse fucking nightmare- a stupid bully is nothing
  • Will cry at sad movies
  • Has a small section in the paper called “Eddie’s Health Tip of the Day”
  • Somehow became the lunch ladies best friend, debatably because he always keeps the Loser’s table clean
  • Is secretly (not secretly at all) in love with Richie Tozier

Richie:

  • It goes without saying that he’s the class clown
  • Has orchestrated the last three senior class pranks even though he wasn’t a senior
  • Will fight anyone who even looks at Eddie the wrong way
  • Life’s goal is to make his rude math teacher’s life a living hell
  • Calls anyone who pulls off a good prank his rival
  • Swears that he will pay Ben back and also didn’t con Eddie into dating him
  • Works at an ice cream parlor
  • Will do literally /any/ dare
  • Is at every single party, no matter what
  • Will DJ your party, even if you don’t ask for it
  • Once managed to play in an entire game of football without that coach realizing he wasn’t on the team
  • MC’s both the school announcements and the football games
  • Sometimes shows up to Stan’s clubs just to make fun of him
  • Is really fucking lucky that Stan hasn’t beat him up yet
  • Is really fucking lucky that /no one/ has beat him up yet

Stan:

  • Is president of the Bird Watchers club and vice of the Chess club
  • Is involved in the Jewish club, even though he’s not very religious
  • Is treasurer of Student Council
  • Is not amused by Richie’s “Jews are good with money!” jokes
  • Has been in love with Bill Fucking Denbrough since eighth grade
  • Will threaten to slap Richie at least once a day
  • Is also involved with the environmental club
  • Will do all of your math homework if you ask nicely enough
  • Usually buys all of the stuff for the Loser’s
  • Is pretty much the closest thing the Loser’s have to both a conscience and a moral compass
  • Will give the absolute dirtiest looks to people who are mean
  • Can silence anyone with a look
  • Is relatively quiet in class, but when he does answer a question it usually leaves the class speechless
  • Has a column in the school newspaper simply titled Ask Stan where he gives people logical advice about life (it’s surprisingly popular)

Bill:

  • Is popular but unlike Mike, no one can figure out why; some people say it’s because he plays basketball, some say it’s because he grew up to be rather handsome and very kind, and some say it’s because he goes to a support group for people who have lost loved ones and he befriended one of the most popular girls at school who lost her father
  • But others would swear on their mother’s graves that it’s because one time during lunch Bill slipped on a strawberry, tried to catch himself on a table, and ended up accidently doing a flip over it in front of the whole school to the applause of everyone when he landed it
  • Can often be caught daydreaming about Stanley Uris in history class
  • Has drawn portraits of every Loser that have won prizes (although he’s drawn more of Stan than everyone else)
  • Is so fucking oblivious to his own feelings that the Loser’s (besides Stan, for obvious reasons) had to give him an intervention after his history grades started slipping
  • Heads and writes for the school newspaper and always slips in little poems Ben writes plus short stories he writes plus everything else the Loser’s want in it
Young Volcanoes

Under normal circumstances, the Potter-Weasley-Malfoy family would avoid the Press like the plague, but with a family that big, it’s simply not possible.

Each of the children has mastered their own- unique- method of dealing with the attention…

Harry: Alright, it’s an 18 yard dash to the front door, it’s packed out there, 

Harry: if someone gets separated YOU CIRCLE BACK. No one gets left behind!

Ginny: Remember, don’t tuck your thumbs. It’s all in the elbows, no punches- 

Ginny: I’m looking at you James and Lily.

Harry: Don’t make eye contact, they sense weakness. Understand everyone?

Everyone: *nods*

Harry: Send us off Teddy, Victoire. Battle stations everyone!

Ginny: *whistles* Go go go!

~~~~

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Draco Malfoy Headcanons
  • At five, he named every single peacock. Every. Single. Peacock. Lucius called him foolish. Narcissa smiled. Both choked on their tea when during a light lunch in the garden, one peacock pecked another aggressively, and five-year-old Draco sprung up on his chair and shouted, “Bad Severus! Bad! Time-out!” 
  • He grew up a lonely child - doted on and loved, but lonely. There was the occasional visit from his father’s associates and their children, mostly Crabbe and Goyle, but they were more pawns than friends, bigger, dumber children to boss around. 
  • Later (too late), he’ll realize this and will learn regret for what could’ve been, if he had actually treated them like friends
  • He played pretend often as a child. Usually, he was the prince, the hero. But sometimes he was the dragon, wrecking everything in his path.
  • He can’t function without coffee in the morning. 
  • He cries when Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt declares him not-guilty and freed of all charges. 
  • The manor becomes a thing of fear and horror to Draco after the war, his memories of home forever tarnished by Voldemort’s presence, by the monstrosities that happened there. He can’t show his face in the Wizarding World without fear of being ambushed, or, at the very least, looked upon with hatred and disgust. He starts visiting a muggle village near the manor, where nobody knows him or his past and he can be anyone. 
  • The more time he spends around muggles the more he realizes his parents were wrong - how could anyone who could create all of this without magic be useless or unintelligent? And the nice girl at the coffee shop who smiles at him every day and asks him how he is when she doesn’t have to, could just hand him his coffee and move on, can’t be a waste of space, she just can’t
  • Lucius finds out where he’s spending his time. They get into a huge fight - their only real fight because Draco had always been a good son, he prided himself on being a good son. It’s the first time he ever raises his voice to his father. It’s the first time his father strikes - truly strikes - him, open palm, across the face, and something that had already been frayed between them breaks in two. 
  • Draco leaves home. 
  • He returns to Hogwarts to get his NEWTs because he’s already starting off on the bottom rung with Death Eater stamped on his back - uneducated will be the death of him. 
  • He learns to hate the name Malfoy and repels everything to do with it. 
  • He joins healer training after Hogwarts, with so many ‘Outstanding’ N.E.W.Ts behind him, St. Mungo’s can’t turn down his application. 
  • But that doesn’t stop his trainers and co-workers from making his life an absolute hell, doing everything they can to make him quit. That doesn’t stop the looks they and the patients alike give him, distrust and disgust. He does not quit. He works harder than he’s ever worked at anything in his life because he’s finally found a purpose, a real purpose - to make others feel a little less broken than he does on a daily basis, to fix them because he doesn’t know how to fix himself. 
  • It’s not redemption. It’s not an apology. He just wants to help, be a better him, for once in his life. 
  • And yes, the first time a patient pukes on him, he almost quits, because puke in his shoes, but he doesn’t. 
  • And he’s brilliant at it. He destroys at healer training. Becomes the greatest healer St. Mungo’s has. And suddenly, people aren’t avoiding him any longer, but asking for him, requesting him. 
  • He earns the title of Potions Master - a very prestigious, difficult title only awarded to the best. 
  • He creates potions not only for St. Mungo’s, but also for smaller, free clinics, for people who can’t afford St. Mungo’s. 
  • He single-handedly revolutionizes healing potions as the wizarding world knows them. 
  • He carries lollipops in the pocket of his healer robes for children patients. 
  • He has a son - Scorpius Hyperion - who takes the last name Malfoy, just like he had when he came into this world. 
  • He stops hating the name Malfoy and instead decides to change what it stands for, make it more than it ever was. Make it a name his son can be proud to own. 

Send me a character/pairing for headcanons

Mr. Min - Chapter 07

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 13079

A/N: Originally this was only the first half of chapter 7 but I wanted to get something out for you guys so I decided to split it. I hope it was worth the wait. :)

PlaylistPrologue - Ch 01Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 - Ch 06 - Ch 07

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Time to float - Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: Time to float

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompts: If you’re taking requests for Bill Skarsgård can you write one where the reader is a famous actress and also little Jackson Scott’s big sister (the kid who plays Georgie) so she attends the premiere with him wearing a stunning dress as usual, she meets Bill who is awestruck bc hes a huge fan with a massive crush on her, the kids who played in the movie myb tease him a little bit, and she’s flattered and thinks hes adorable idk i like this idea 
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YN is Jackson older sister and Bill is her fan!so when he finds out he tries his best to get Jackson to introduce them,and when he does,Jackson can’t help and teels big sis that Bill has a crush on her and he’s just super adorkable to admit! later they all say that on an interview,and the kids love to make fun of them

“Jackson please don’t run! Be careful, sweetie, you’re gonna-” you stopped yourself when you heard you little brother giggle and you realized what you’d just said “Oh gosh I am turning into mom!” you breathed out, eyes wide.

Your little brother ran back to you, wrapping his small arms around your legs and you looked down to be met with his adorable smile “Yes you are! But I am always going to love you the most! More than mom and dad, and more than anyone else in the world!” he said and you giggled.

“And you will always be the number one man in my heart, JR!” you leaned down to pick him up and kiss his cheek as he wrapped his arms around your neck with a big smile.

“Even before dad?” he asked and you grinned, nodding your head.

“But we’re not gonna tell him that, because it’s gonna break his heart.” you pouted, and he giggled.

“You bet it will!” your father piped in, saying with a serious nod and you laughed with Jackson as he kissed your cheek before going to help your mother.

“And… even more than him?” he said with what was supposed to be a smirk on his face and you chuckled, tickling his belly.

“You sly little tease!” you grinned as he squirmed in your arms “Alright, maybe I really do like him a little bit but-”

He rolled his eyes so dramatically at you and shook his head “A lot!”

Keep reading

Harry laughed happily as he landed on the grass. Draco was only seconds behind him clutching the snitch with a massive grin on his face.
“Good one, Draco.”
“Oh, it wasn’t really a good one. Pretty easy actually.” Draco drawled with a smirk.
Harry laughed again as he shoved Draco’s shoulder. “Whatever, that dive was pretty amazing.” Draco’s smirk became a proud smile. “Come on, let’s go eat something. I’m starving!” Harry said.
The smile morphed into a frown. “No. We each won one, it’s a draw. We have to play another.”
Harry grinned at him. “Let’s leave it a draw.”
Draco arched a brow. “Scared Potter?”
Laughing, Harry slung an arm around his friends shoulders. “Yes, scared you’ll pout and ignore me all day when I beat you.”
Draco sniffed. “First of all, I am not so petty. And who says you’d win anyway? So arrogant, Harry.”
Harry laughed and squeezed his friend in a hug. “Yeah. I’m the arrogant here, Draco.”
Draco gently bumped the side of his head against Harry’s as they walked to the castle. “So long as you know.”

On the following Sunday they found themselves trudging through a mountain of homework, much to Harry’s displeasure. Ron and Hermione had gone for a picnic on the grounds, since Hermione always made sure they were up to date on their work. Sighing Harry dropped his head heavily against the couch. Draco, who was curled up in the corner of the couch next to him, looked up with an arched brow. “Giving up already?”
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes.” He jerked up when he felt Draco flick him between the eyes. “Hey!” He protested, rubbing the sore spot with his fingers.
“You’d better keep going. Don’t think that you can leave it and get me to help you just because Granger won’t let you fly until it’s done.” He went back to looking at his book.
Harry turned to him with wide eyes. “That is a fantastic idea.” When Draco just let out a soft laugh but otherwise ignored him, Harry moved so he could lie leaning comfortably against Draco’s side. He closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh.
“Potter!” Draco groaned. “I am absolutely not doing your work for you.” But he didn’t move or shove Harry off, which Harry knew he wouldn’t. After several blissful minutes, right when Harry was sure he was on the cusp of a wonderful dream, he fell to the floor as Draco stood up. He pointed a finger accusingly at Harry, “Do some work, Harry. Or we will go to the library.”
Sighing in defeat, Harry sat up and faced his books once more.

Hours later they were sitting in front of the crackling fire eating Bertie Botts beans. Draco was sprawled across a single seat with his legs hanging across the side while Harry sat on the floor with his legs crossed and back against Draco’s seat. Draco had the box of beans and alternated between taking one and lowering the box for Harry.
Ron and Hermione entered the common room with cheerful greetings. Harry appreciated everyone’s efforts to get along, since he knew it was only for his sake, but he did wish his three best friends were more than just polite to one another.
“Did you have a good picnic?” Draco asked them.
“Oh, yes it was lovely thanks.” Hermione smiled at him. Ron nodded a bit awkwardly at him.
“Oh, Harry. You’ll never guess what.” Ron started, and Hermione shot him a suspicious look. “We saw Terry there, he was in the middle of a big fight, seems like him and his boyfriend broke up.” Hermione’s look of suspicion became one of horror as she tugged on Ron’s hand. Harry’s stomach dropped as he willed Ron not to continue. But he did. “So he’s single now, and you can finally ask him out. I know you used to have a massive crush on him.”
Harry closed his eyes, but the thick silence wouldn’t be ignored. He was so glad he couldn’t see Draco’s expression at that moment. There had been a hundred moments when he meant to come out to Draco. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or anything. It was just that he really enjoyed their friendship. He didn’t know how they’d become so
comfortable touching each other all the time, but he was scared that it would change if Draco knew. He opened his eyes to find Ron looking from him to Hermione with confusion brewing in his eyes. Hermione was watching Draco carefully, which could only mean that he most definitely wasn’t looking at them.
Harry sighed internally. He cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks.”
Hermione looked at him pitifully and quickly started talking about their day, filling the silence as best she could. She asked about how their studies went, Harry responded and Draco said a word or two.
After suffering through it as long as he could, Harry wished everyone good night. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Draco as he left, but let his hand trail along his shoulder as he walked passed.

The next morning, Harry lingered in bed. If he could, he’d avoid seeing Draco all day. Unfortunately, his last class was potions where they were partners. At breakfast he managed to get away with only a smile and a wave since Draco sat at the Slytherin table still. Harry tried hard to focus on his lessons all day, but he couldn’t deny he was nervous to see him.
When he arrived in potions at the end of the day, Draco was already there with all the ingredients for the days potion. He was chopping furiously when Harry reached him. “Hi, Draco.” He said nervously, fidgeting with the strap on his bag.
“Hi, Potter.” Draco glanced up with a small smile. After a few seconds he rolled his eyes. “Are you going to help or do you expect me to do all the work?”
Harry could have laughed with relief, but he didn’t. He gave Draco a grateful smile which was returned with a small quirk of the lips and they got to work.
The rest of the lesson passed in the same manner as the ones before. After, they walked together to dinner and Harry felt relieved. Until he couldn’t find Draco anywhere after dinner. He went to bed with a sinking feeling.

The week passed in the same pattern. The only time that Harry really saw Draco was during potions, his behavior seemingly unchanged. But Harry missed him. After potions on Friday Harry had had enough. As they walked together to dinner he blurted out. “Where have you been all week?” Grey eyes glanced up from the floor to meet his before flickering away. “I can never find you after dinner.” He said accusingly.
Draco answered softly. “I’ve had detention every day.”
“What?” Harry asked, reaching out to grab Draco’s arm. “For what?”
Turning to face Harry, Draco sighed. “You know how it is, some teachers will make up reasons to punish me.”
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to express his outrage when Draco gave him a defeated smile. “It doesn’t matter. Okay?”
Harry deflated. Draco twitched his arm awkwardly and Harry realized he was still holding him. He let go quickly but noticed the blush on Draco’s cheeks.
He deflated a little more.

On Saturday morning when Harry returned from breakfast he found Draco in the common room with his homework. After fetching his own, he sank down on the couch next to him.
Draco shifted to make more room for him.
After working for a little while Draco got up to get a different textbook and settled down again on the single couch. Harry frowned. He wouldn’t have thought anything about it before, but..
He sighed heavily and tried to focus on his work.

The next day he found himself working alone in the library. When he returned to the common room he found Draco curled up on the single couch with a book. He looked up when Harry entered and frowned slightly. “Where were you today?” He asked.
Harry shrugged, struggling to meet his eyes. “Thought I’d concentrate better in the library.” He moved to walk past where Draco was sitting, when Draco’s hand shot out as if to grab his hand but stopped suddenly, quivered in the air for a moment before disappearing just as fast.
Harry hesitated briefly. With a disappointed sigh he carried on walking.
“Harry.” Draco said.
Harry half turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. Draco cleared his throat. “Would you like to go fly for a bit?” Harry frowned skeptically, unsure of what how he wanted to respond. “There’s enough time for at least one game to end our draw before the light goes.” Draco said, smiling uncertainly. And that’s what got to Harry.
“Yeah, alright.” He answered finally.

The walk to the quidditch pitch was filled with awkward silence. At least it was for Harry. Once they were flying though, Harry felt better.
The light started to go quickly and Harry was scanning rather desperately for the snitch, it was the one he had caught in first year and he was rather sentimental about it. A glint of gold caught his eye and he dove toward it. As he neared it he saw Draco coming in from a different angle, slightly ahead of him. He pushed forward, urging his broom to go faster. At the last moment, he realized Draco would get there first and Harry would barrel into him soon after. Unfortunately, the last moment didn’t give him enough time to stop or change direction. All he could do was slow down to soften the impact.
Thankfully they were low to the ground so when they tumbled over one another and onto the grass, it wasn’t too hard a fall. They rolled and Harry landed half on Draco’s chest with a massive groan. Draco was gasping heavily. Harry lifted himself to quickly pat Draco down for injuries and once he was satisfied that he was fine he fell half onto Draco’s chest again. They caught their breath in silence.
It was the happiest Harry had been all week. Until Draco said, “Two one, Potter.” Harry looked up to see Draco clutching the snitch with a triumphant grin. He laughed and pushed himself up onto an elbow.
“You can’t tell me this one was an easy win.” Harry teased.
“No, I can’t.” Draco chuckled and smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back, happy to have his friend back. He noticed the pink tinge on Draco’s cheeks as Draco’s eyes flickered away and he shifted awkwardly. Harry sat up quickly and Draco scooted away from Harry. His heart sank.
Draco cleared his throat, “Well, let’s go back.” He stood up and retrieved his broom. Harry sat there with his knees bent and his elbows resting on his knees, drowning in unhappiness. He wasn’t going to get his easy friendship back. Draco had walked a few paces back toward the castle when he turned around. “Harry?” He said tentatively.
Harry sighed. “I can’t do this, Draco.” He shoved his hands in his hair and looked away, frustrated.
Draco frowned and came back. “What do you mean?” He asked softly.
“I mean I want you to just freak out about the fact that I didn’t tell you and be honest if you have a problem with who I am. I can’t take this dancing around it. I miss you.” He bit his lip to stop himself. After a long pause he looked up to find Draco staring at him in shock.
“You think I have a problem with who you are?” He asked quietly, which set warning bells off in Harry’s head. “You think I’ve been acting strange because I don’t accept this part of you.” He added. Then he laughed, a self deprecating sound that Harry knew well. Draco lifted a hand to his forehead. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s the obvious conclusion.” He laughed again, a little hysterically this time, which broke Harry out of his daze. He stood up and slowly approached him.
“Well, if it’s not that then what is it?” He asked.
Draco closed his eyes briefly before meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry watched a flush creep up his neck as he seemed to search for words. “Well, I couldn’t exactly be mad at you for not telling me when I’ve been keeping the exact same secret.” His cheeks were a deep pink now. Harry’s ears were ringing.
“What?” He whispered, disbelieving.
Draco gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” Harry could only stare at him. Draco swallowed nervously. “Anyway, I was trying to find the right time to tell you about me. But, as you know, it’s not easy.” He laughed awkwardly again. “And somehow knowing about you made my little crush seem less impossible which is stupid, really I know, so I was just giving myself a bit of space to dispel that illusion. That’s why I got detention everyday. I couldn’t focus, I was useless in class.” His gaze was flickering from Harry’s shoulder, his collar to his throat. Anywhere but his eyes. After a fortifying breath Draco added. “Our friendship is important to me. I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Harry was confused. He was shocked. But he knew that that made him happy. He pulled Draco towards him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “I missed you, you idiot.”
Draco melted into the hug which made Harry’s heart soar. They stood like that for a long time. Eventually Draco pulled back, much to Harry’s regret. Harry searched his gaze. “It’s not impossible, you know. Or an illusion.” He whispered.
Draco’s breath caught. Harry smiled at him. “I don’t think.” Harry amended. But as he watched the moonlight play over Draco’s features he thought it was probably extremely possible. Probable in fact.
Draco watched Harry watch him for the longest time. His look of shock slowly abated until Harry was staring at Draco’s trademark smirk. “You’d better not think that counts as asking me out, because my standards are considerably higher than that.” Harry laughed and Draco smiled before adding, “I’m serious.” With that he turned and started toward the castle. Harry scrambled to catch up.
“I’ll write a poem.” He said.
Draco groaned. “Please don’t. I’m pretty set on saying yes. Don’t make that hard for me to do.”
Harry grinned. Feeling bold, he reached out to grab Draco’s hand as they walked forward. He let out a content sigh when Draco laced their fingers together.

So @laquilasse and I figured out a way to solve at least a third of Gotham’s problems. Basically, the batfam uses social media. Specifically twitter.

For real, do you know how much time and effort this would save?? People could @ the bats on twitter and say “Help, I’m ____ and ____ is happening,” and it could save a lot of people because they wouldn’t all have to patrol and it could warn of specific things that they could help when there isn’t an Arkham escapee on the loose. Not to mention it could help legally, and give the police something to work with, too. Anyways, so here are some headcanons about the batfam using social media we came up with:

  •  It’s Dick who gets a twitter for Nightwing first. He’s the one who starts it all
    • He goes to a superhero convention in Gotham and he takes selfies with all the Nightwing cosplayers.
    • Later, he posts some on his twitter and says something like, “had so much fun at the convention today!! Y’all were rocking the suits <3” and then everyone in the photo realizes they took a selfie with the actual Nightwing and not some dude with a really realistic costume.
  • Dick shows Jason all the people tweeting at him and explains how it keeps him busy when things aren’t happening out in the open. Jason is immediately on board. Steph is, too.
  • The three of them are pretty much the go to vigilante when it comes to social media.
  • Jason really likes it because it helps him save people in a pinch like domestic abuse.
  • Bruce refuses to get a Twitter for Batman
    • He suspects Damian has one, though.
    • There will be instances where Damian will suddenly be like, “We need to go now,” and Damian leads him to someone in danger. It’s super efficient. He still won’t get a twitter.
    • Bruce Wayne, however, definitely does have a Twitter, and all it’s used for is business and gushing about his kids because he’s an actual dad.
  • As soon as all his siblings get Twitters, Dick tweets out:
    • “good news, gothamites! I’ve convinced the rest of the fam!” and then @’s all of his siblings’ different twitters.
  • Twitter goes crazy.
  • And then people get to witness twitter banter between all of them during the daytime
  • Someone @’s Nightwing and asks “does batman have one?”
    • Dick tweets “nah, he’s too much of an old fart who won’t admit that social media frightens and confuses him”
    • For as tech savvy as Batman is, he can’t figure out how to tweet.
      • Dick tweeting: “Actual thing I just heard in the batcave: ‘what the hell is a retweet?’ [insert a bunch of cry-laughy faces here]”
    • He’s pretending, though, and Dick calls him out on it.
    • Dick: “You tweet as Bruce, though.”
    • Bruce: “That’s different.”
    • Dick: “HOW?”
    • Jason: “It’s cuz he can’t batspeak on twitter. There’s no word for *grunts*”
    • Tim, sleep deprived: “I’m sure if you try hard enough there is. And besides, it’s definitely more of a *does a different grunt*”
  • On top of being great for asking the vigilantes for help, people can tweet and let them know if they see the criminal they’re looking for
  • Not to mention the vigilantes can tweet out and warn people if something bad is going down and if they need to stay away from a certain area
    • “Joker gang headed through 9th and 17th, stay in your homes or duck into a nearby shop. PLEASE stay safe everyone, and if you’re not, please let us know.”
  • Dick also posts pictures of things happening in the Batcave just because.
    • Nightwing posts a picture of Red Robin asleep at the computer with 6 overturned cups of coffee and an open jar of pickles for some reason
    • Caption reads: “sometimes I worry about my little brothers…this is one of those times”
    • Jason: “the fuck is that kid doing with coffee and pickles??? Ew???”
    • Steph: “NOT USING A FORK TO GET THEM OUT, LIKE A FUCKING SAVAGE” because, you know, Steph would totally know.
    • In fact, she took a video of it earlier, and she really wishes that Tim had been wearing his cowl in the video so she could post it as evidence.
    • But fate smiled upon Timothy it seems
    • Except, karma comes back to bite Tim in the ass when he wakes up with marker all over his face, courtesy of Damian (he owed Steph a favor, but he definitely would have done it anyways).
    • Cass drew a pretty rainbow that she’s very proud of, though
  • Speaking of Cass, she’s the one who seems to be one of the most popular on twitter, even though she was one of the last to make an account as a vigilante
  • But yeah. Just. The batfam using social media. It’s a great idea, and I need it implemented. There may be more added to this post
Accidental Stabbing (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You tried to stay out of trouble, really you did. But while running from Henry Bowers, you bump into the only group people who seemed to have noticed you since your arrival at Derry. One particularly stupid boy in thick glasses catches your attention as you ‘accidentally’ stab Henry. 

Warnings: Cursing, stabbing someone (I mean… duh), blood, mention of assault, mention of cult activities (it sounds worse that it is, but holy fuck I sound satanic).

Word Count: 1,312

Being a resident of Derry officially sucked ass. Seriously. You glanced behind you as you ran and saw that Henry Bowers was still close behind, shoving little kids and adults alike. Your head snapped back to face front and you prayed that your legs could carry you just a little bit more. Ever since moving here a two months ago, there were a specific group of people you knew to avoid, even if it meant always being quiet and keeping your head down. Not that you were quiet in real life, but it was best not to trigger the anger that you kept locked away. Henry shouted something about you being a slut, his voice louder and closer. Your throat was growing tight and dry but the adrenaline kept you moving, sprinting through the town, ducking under people’s arms, sidestepping old folks, trying not to trample toddlers… All because the Patrick kid from Henry’s gang thought your shorts were too small. Well he can go fuck himself. You think, pumping your arms and legs faster. Fuckin’ pervert.

Keep reading

know it all — p.p.

summary : may parker can’t fathom that you and her nephew aren’t dating yet- she can’t wait forever, you know, and she knows it’s going to happen eventually. when has may ever been wrong?

word count : 3k

author’s note : long time no see?? LOL sophomore year is successfully kicking my ass but i wrote this and it’s semi long so?? 

   May Parker prides herself on a lot of things- namely, her stunning resilience in the face of immense adversity, and the way she just seems to know things. She can’t help it, it’s her not so lame superpower and she uses it on Peter all the time, much to his annoyance. She earns a roll of the eyes whenever she says something out of the blue, so profound Peter can’t help but contemplate its credibility for the hours that follow their interactions. She knows things, she does, and she knows that you and her nephew are as meant to be as her and Ben were- are, she chastises herself sometimes- and she knows it so truly in the deepest recesses of her heart that the fact that you and Peter aren’t together is something that goes right over her head. 

   “Peter, hon, when’s your girl coming over? I miss having other ladies in the house,” she says one day, interrupting the silence that had settled upon the pair  as Peter recited the periodic table of elements so naturally in his head in preparation for a quiz the following day. Peter loses track somewhere between lithium and beryllium or maybe it was phosphorus, he doesn’t know anymore, when he hears May call you that, his girl, and he shakes his head at her wildly. “What? What’d I say?” May points her wooden spoon at him, and Peter’s reminded that she’s Italian for the fifth time that day. 

   “May, she’s not- she’s not my, like, girlfriend,” he stresses each syllable the word carries, practically throwing his pencil across the table when he turns his chair to get a better view of his aunt as she prepares dinner- pasta, again, because she claims it’s the only thing she can’t possibly mess up. “You know that! Y/N’s been my best friend forever.” 

    “You realize you can be best friends with your girlfriend, don’t you?” Peter can sense May’s eyes rolling even though he can’t see her since she’s facing the stove with her back turned. “You two have definitely kissed. You can’t tell me you haven’t.” 

    Peter’s entire face feels hot when she says that, his hands clammy when he presses them together against his cheeks, placing his elbows on the table to prop his head up. “That’s embarrassing, May. Why would you ever ask me that?” He runs his hands through his hair and the gel is so terribly packed on it that the carefully prepared hairstyle comes undone with one swift movement. “We haven’t, in case you’re wondering, which I know you are because you’re nosy.” Peter feels the spoon lightly poke into his back, a playful warning. 

   “Anyways,” May continues loudly, “as I was saying before, your girlfriend should come over for dinner sometime this week. I’m making pasta.” She grins before placing a bowl of penne in front of Peter, his least favorite pasta shape. Peter scowls at the penne but picks up his fork anyway and shoves some in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before giving May a thumbs up. At least she was proud of it. “I won’t make penne if you get her to come over.” 

    She knows she’s got him when she sees the slow, unsure nod start. He sticks his hand out, and May shakes it happily. “Only because of the penne. I want bowties. Please,” he gives his aunt his best, brightest, sweetest smile he can form, much like the ones that come so naturally when he turns his gaze to look at you- but May won’t bring that up just yet. “And don’t make girlfriend jokes in front of her.” His utensil stabs into the pasta as he thinks to himself, ‘cause if you keep it up in front of her, she’ll think I’m a weirdo and I’ll never genuinely get to call Y/N that, ever. Honestly, he’d much rather launch himself headfirst off of the Empire State Building than never get to experience kissing you, holding your hand, being with you in all those sorts of hopelessly romantic ways that he daydreams about regularly. He’s doing it again, slipping into that endless reverie he always seems to find himself lost in. But it’s okay. His mind is a chasm of soft loves and sweet words shared between the two of you. It’s a beautiful, long mess of a dream. 

   “You lost, Pete?” May snaps her fingers in front of his face, bemused. 

    “A little,” he sighs in that dreamy tone she recalls her own self indulging in so fondly in her younger years. His gaze becomes hazy again, like he’s on another plane entirely, but she lets him be. For now. 


    Peter knows he’s dressing up a little too much for just a friend. He’s spraying too much strong cologne and gelling his hair excessively and praying you won’t notice the fact that it’ll be dryer than the leaves in the wintertime, but it’s all too much for someone he insists is his best friend and his best friend alone, nothing more and nothing less, certainly not his girlfriend. Never that, right? Peter frowns at his reflection and tilts his head down, rubbing his head in attempt to remove most of the gel that had been a serious mistake in the first place. You preferred his hair curly, anyway. Not that he cared. Not in the slightest. He puts on the sweater that you once said looked lovely on him and he wears his nice jeans, the ones without that stupid hole near the butt cheek that you can’t really see unless you’re trying

   His cheeks flush when May gives a tiny, satisfied smirk upon seeing his perfectly put together outfit. He acts as if no time at all was spent on his appearance, but she knows him, like she knows everything else, and she knows that he’s been holed up in the bathroom for over twenty minutes now trying to see which shirt matched his eyes best and debating the chances of you realizing that this was the sweater you liked the most on him before he put it on and beamed at himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the color or the stitching or the fabric but he was starting to like this one much more, too. 

   “You look very handsome, sweets,” May says to him, squeezing his shoulder as she brushes past him to place a salad on the table. Peter surveys the salad with a strange look on his face. 

   “Why’d you make a salad? Since when does Y/N eat salad?” He raises his eyebrows at her, before adding with haste, “not that I don’t love your salad, Aunt May, ‘cause I do. I promise.”  

   Aunt May places her hands on her hips, peering at him through the tops of her glasses in a way that makes her look too wise for someone as young as she was. “I’m making a good impression, obviously.” 

   “You’ve known her for like ten years now, the time for good impressions is over, May. You missed your chance.”

   “This is the first time I’m seeing Y/N as your girlfriend, though!” Peter lets out the loudest groan imaginable, running his hands over his cheeks and slapping his forehead with great vexation. 

   “Still not my girlfriend,” he insists on insisting, taking the extra plates out of her busy hands and helping to set the small kitchen table. 

   May smooths back a loose strand of hair from his forehead with a kind, teasing grin on her face. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want her to be, kiddo.” 

   He can’t possibly argue with that sort of logic, especially not when his aunt hits the nail right on the head in that peculiar way she has a habit of doing, so he just smiles and kisses May on the cheek. There’s a knock on the door less than a second later, and the pair scramble for the upper hand before Peter beats her to it and nearly flies to grab the handle of it and yank it open so he can greet you accordingly, slightly out of breath with his hair flopping to one quite nicely and a joyous smile making its way across his mouth when he sees you for the first time that day. May hovers earnestly behind him, hands fluttering over her nephew’s shoulders so she can push past him to wrap you in a hug if need be. Sometimes Peter has the impression that May adores you even more than he does; he wasn’t sure if he should be glad for that, or a bit offended that you seemed to return the blatant favoritism with ardency. 

   There was a brief second where your eyes raked over your best friend’s face with soft admiration, hidden as carefully as you could manage. When you met his appreciative gaze you felt the palms of your hands clam up and so you cast your look back to his aunt and playfully pushed past him to give her a hug. 

   Peter, offense overriding his previously somewhat moonstruck expression, backed away from you when you finally turned toward him with your arms outstretched. “Oh, now I get a hug? Interesting,” he rolls his eyes in a teasing manner, unable and unwilling to conceal his little, loving smile that appeared when you pried his arms off his chest and defiantly wrapped them around yourself as you hugged him. “Didn’t seem so interested in hugging me when you were shoving me away to get to May,” he says, craning his neck to stare at you whilst continuing to drag the embrace out for as long as possible. 

   “You’re still my favorite Parker,” you reply, poking his chest lightly. Then you turn away before you can say anything else that could be considered too revealing of certain, carefully concealed feelings that had the possibility of being detrimental to a beautiful friendship that had manifested over the years into something more, but not quite, not yet. “Sort of,” you put as an afterthought, lest he get any ideas about you feeling… something for him. “Anyways, what’s for dinner, May?” You anticipate pasta, and when May announces the dish with a great flourishing of her hand, you grin. Typical, yes, but nothing if not welcomed. 

  Peter, gentleman that he is, pulls out your chair for you, and you let yourself imagine that he’s doing it as a chivalrous boyfriend and not simply a polite friend. He imagines the same, though. Imagines that he’s on a date with you and he pulls out your chair and smiles kindly and lovingly- and he basks in this image for as long as he can. May calls you over then, and the daydream is shattered. You make your way over to her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

   May lowers her voice before speaking, “Y/N, I’m gonna need you to explain something to me,” she starts. You nod, raising your eyebrows at her. “Explain why you and Peter aren’t together yet. Honestly, honey, I just can’t understand it.” She talks with her hands the way Peter does. 

   “Uh- what? I, um, I don’t… understand?” Your voice cracks a little, as if having May practically shove your less than friendly feelings for Peter back in your face wasn’t embarrassing enough. “We’re, um, you know, like, friends.” 

   Her hand waves dismissively, pushing that sentence away. “No, no, see that’s what he said, too! I have to disagree. I know everything, kiddo, and I know that you two are going to make it as a couple, so if that’s what your afraid of, don’t be. Go for it. I see the same thing in him that I see in you right now, and that thing is love. So, I’m going to need you to go make my nephew the happiest kid on Earth and tell him you’re falling in love with him, and you’ll see that he’s going to say the same thing to you. Trust me. Aunt May knows all,” she shrugs in a casual manner, brushing her confidence off, before she steers you around and gently pushes you back toward the tiny dining room table where Peter sits awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs with his lip caught between his teeth. 

   “Hi,” you almost whisper, settling down in your seat across from him. 

   He glances up. “Hey,” he says, smiling again. A reflex, in your presence. He clears his throat, then asks, “So, what’d you and May talk about?” He knows May loves him as if he were her son, which for all intents and purposes he is, but he can’t be sure of her secrecy. He wouldn’t put it past his aunt to let slip “accidentally” that he liked you, loved you, cared for you. 

   You take a sip of your glass of water that Peter must have filled in your absence from the table. You had a tendency to take sips of your drink when in uncomfortable conversations, or conversations you felt nervous in. He notes that. “Oh, um, nothing really… but if were gonna talk about it, I’d wanna do it in, like, private?” You twirl your straw around your drink, mixing the ice in the glass. Peter abruptly stands from his chair. You watch him sling a jacket around his shoulders and throw one of his sweaters at you, which you catch easily. “You wanna go now?” 

   He nods, licking his lips anxiously. “No better time than the present, right?” If you’re going to confront him and crush his heart with a single sentence that stands along the lines of I see you as a friend, he wants it done sooner rather than later. He wants it over with, so he can go back to his suffering in comfortable silence and start an attempt to move past this crush the way he had easily drifted away from his crush on Liz Allan. You fumble with the sweater as you stand. “May, we’re gonna step out for a bit!” Peter announces, opening the front door of his apartment and letting you slip out first. He doesn’t wait for her response before he disappears, too. May watches the two of you leave and feels her heart grow twice its size. 

  You’re standing outside the apartment building ten minutes later in the chilly autumn breeze, thankful for the cologne scented sweater that rests over your body like a warm blanket. Peter’s hands are never cold, and so they linger outside of his pockets as opposed to yours, shoved inside the front pocket of the sweater he’s given you. He reaches for your hands wordlessly and rubs them over his. “You’re always freezing,” he laughs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours with a new burst of confidence that you find endearing as you squeeze his hands. “Hey, wanna know something? You might know it already but, I figure I should tell you myself, if you wanna know.” He swings his hands back and forth, and yours swing along with his. 

   “Yeah, please,” you insist, twisting your head to the side to sweep the windswept hair out of your face. One of Peter’s hands comes up to brush it out of the way, typical and cliche and an overplayed move but none of that matters when the action is being carried out, because it makes your stomach constrict in that funny way and your heart melt into a puddle on the dirty sidewalk. His fingers linger over the softness of your cheek, and he keeps his hand there to see what you’ll say about it. You say nothing, let remain there. “You gonna tell me or not?” 

  “Should I- I could maybe…” he sucks on the bottom of his lip. “Forget it, I don’t know how to speak properly around you like this.” You start to protest, demand he tell you because you won’t be able to stop thinking about this if he doesn’t, but every word dies before it can touch the edge of your lips. Peter has his head lowered down toward you and he’s kissing you, a thought that’s crossed your mind more times than you were able to count but now, it’s happening. Real lips pressed against yours feverishly, shyness forgotten in the heat of the moment. When he pulls away first, it returns and collides with him as if he’s hit a brick wall, and his cheeks burn red. He makes no move to back away, still. “D-Did I step out of line? Was that okay? Do you hate me? ‘Cause if you do we can go back upstairs or you can leave and then on Monday we can pretend that this never happened because you’re still my best friend no matter what even if it’s awkward-” 

   Your hands clasp together around the back of his neck as you yank him down toward you again, and this time you kiss him back. You can feel him smiling so hard it makes it difficult to kiss him, but when you break away to tell him that, he just laughs and smiles harder and keeps kissing you. He doesn’t know how to stop now that’s he had the opportunity. You’re both laughing hysterically and trying to kiss properly and his nose bumps against yours repeatedly, and it’s the most perfect first kiss in the world. 

   He keeps his hand firmly grasped in yours when you go back upstairs to his seventh floor apartment, opens the door for you and everything. May is sitting at the table, turns her head to the both of you and peers at you from the top of her glasses. Peter raises his hand and yours, triumphant. May claps her hands together as he, your boyfriend, declares proudly, “Aunt May, I would like to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who I hope will be sticking around?” He looks to you for reassurance, and gets what he needs from the happy kiss you bestow upon the side of his face. 

   “I told you two I know everything!” Is what breaks the joyous silence, and then the laughter starts again; a perfectly lovely family. 

Keep reading

Welcome Home

Request: “Hi! I love your stories so much! I don’t know if you do these but is there anyway you can do a story with Bill Skarsgard and the reader having their first child. Like them finding out their having a baby and watching the pregnancy develop and finally they get to meet the baby when it’s born?”

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: YASS I finally finished with all of the 20+ requests I had in my inbox, it took a week but that’s an ACHIEVEMENT I’M SO PROUD of myself😂😎

You and Bill had been together for 4 years before he finally decided to pop the question. You, your friends, and your family were very happy for you. They all loved Bill and since he made you happy they were happy. Six months after Bill proposed you both got married in front of all your closest family members and friends. It was an amazing wedding and you looked very beautiful with your white big wedding dress.

Bill thought you looked like a princess straight out of a fairytale. He even cried as you walked down the aisle with your father on your right side. Bill couldn’t contain his happiness and excitement, he was very emotional. After 4 years he finally was going to marry you. The love of his life, his entire world and many other more beautiful things. 

Once the wedding was over you went to Paris for your honeymoon where you both made love to each other and conceived your first child. A couple of weeks passed and you both were finally back at home in your beautiful mansion. You had been feeling nauseous and couldn’t keep your food in your stomach.

Worried, Bill went to the doctor with you where you both received the news that you were expecting a baby! Bill obviously not being able to contain his excitement spun you around in front of the doctor. The doctor being fan of both of you thought it was very cute and considered you a very lucky women to have such a supportive and loving husband. 

Once you got home Bill started ordering baby furniture and clothes. You giggled at how you had only been a couple of weeks pregnant. You still had 9 more months to go until the baby arrived. Bill just shook his head and kissed you only replying, “It is never too early to start preparing.”

After that Bill called all of his friends and family telling them about the amazing news. He was literally jumping and spinning around the house as he spoke on the phone this man was more then excited.

Time had passed and you were now 8 months pregnant. You had been surprised with a baby shower that had been planned by you and Bill’s family members and friends. You all spent an amazing time and were given A LOT of gifts enough to last you all until the baby went to school.

A little bit more time passed and finally you were 9 months pregnant. The journey had been amazing. Bill was an amazing husband he was always caring for you whether it was tying your shoes, picking up something you dropped or satisfying your cravings he was there to make sure you were happy. 

“There’s my beautiful wife.” Bill smiled as he walked up to you and kissed your lips.

“Hey handsome your son is abusing his mom, he keeps kicking me.” You frowned.

“Little one you better stop kicking your mommy, she’s made a lovely home for you these past 9 months the least you can do is not kick her.” Bill said as he pressed his ear onto your stomach and spoke to your son.

Soon after Bill finished speaking the kicking stopped causing Bill to smile.

“Holy shit you’re amazing how on earth?” You asked in disbelief.

“It’s official I’m the baby whisperer.” Bill said bowing causing you to giggle.

All of a sudden you felt a warm liquid run down your leg your eyes widened to the size of saucers causing Bill to become worried.

“Y/N what’s wrong are you okay?” He asked.

“Bill my water broke the baby is coming.” You smiled. Bill kissed you passionately before helping you out of the chair.

“Alright I have the bag and I’ve got you let’s go to the hospital and have us a baby.” 

“We’re having a baby Bill he’s finally here.” 


After a couple of hours dealing with contractions and pushing out your baby. You had finally given birth. Bill had been there for you the whole time from the moment the doctors injected the epidural into up until now that he sat next to you as he carried your son (S/N= Son’s name).

“Welcome to the world S/N your mommy and I are very happy that you’re here. She’s asleep right now but once she wakes up she will also be very happy to see you.” Bill whispered to your son as he held his father’s finger with his tiny hand.

“We’re all going to be very happy together and maybe once a couple of months pass you could eventually see yourself becoming a big brother.” Bill cooed.

“Don’t get your hopes up mister after what I just went through we’re waiting a year until that happens.” You said drowsily as you woke up.

Bill chuckled a placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Is that?-”

“Yes honey meet S/N he’s been waiting to meet you.” Bill smiled as he handed you your son.

“He is so precious just look at him, look at what we made.” You cooed as a couple of tears slid down your face.

“He really is, we made something absolutely beautiful. Thank you so much Y/N you have made me the happiest man on this earth. I love you and S/N so much and I will always be there for you both.” Bill said as he held your hand.

“Bill that’s so sweet, I love you too baby and you as well have made me and happiest and luckiest woman on this earth.” 

Bill crashed your lips together and they moved in perfect sync. A couple of doctors that passed by outside your hospital room smiled to themselves. They were more then happy to see a beautiful couple starting their new life together. 

Bts | Reaction | Checkmate✔️

[ i live for these mafia/gangsta aus! thanks so much for requesting this, i love you so much, enjoy :)) ]

Seokjin

➸ You hadn’t caught his eye just yet, him merely seeing you as another waitress threatened with your life to serve him anything he desired. This business meeting was nothing but intense, the atmosphere suffocating as the topic was on murder. Now, for a normal servant they wouldn’t even bat an eye on the conversation - but that’s just it. 

You were new. 

And it probably was just your luck to be working on the day they decided to be…descriptive as to what they planned to do to the rat among them. A little squeamish, you couldn’t help but shake uncontrollably when you poured Jin another glass of wine, biting your lip with so much strength that you were sure it was bleeding.

“Yoongi, for the last time, we are not using acid. I almost lost my fucking arm trying to clean it up the last time we used it.” Namjoon groans, rubbing his temples in aggravation. “What is it with you and melting skin?” 

“He’s a sadist, that’s why.” Jimin snickers. “I say we cut off the fingers, one by one. Then, leave him to bleed out - slowly.” 

You couldn’t help but gulp at the mere thought of someone’s fingers being cut off, or their skin melting off; what was wrong with these people? Do they find it entertaining doing these things-

“Yah!” 

The abrupt shout coming from Jin shocks you back into reality, as your heart drops at the sight of the overflowed wine glass, now all over the white table cloth and his dress pants. Losing the ability to breathe, you stand there with your mouth agape in terror, eyes wide like a deer in front of headlights. Sputtering out apologies left and right, you set the bottle down to hurriedly clean him up as much as you could with the hem of your dress - it being the only thing available. 

“I-I’m sorry, please, forgive me - I didn’t mean to, I was only just-” 

Before you could finish your plea, your breath is once again caught in your throat as rough fingers grip your jaw, lifting your head back up so he could get a good look at you. The room is now silent, which you concluded to be much worse than their conversation. You didn’t even notice you had tears until he used his other hand to wipe them away, gently. Never had you ever been so confused until this very moment - Jin was never gentle. You know from witnessing what he was really capable of.  

“Calm down, it’s alright. It was only an accident, right?” You take a minute to nod slowly, but once you did, he smiles. That only seems to scare you rather than put you at ease. “No need to be scared. Why don’t we get you cleaned up, hm?” 

Before you had a chance to answer, Jin had already latched onto your forearm, while standing from his seat. It was as if wine had never been spilled as he gave the conference table one last look. “Continue without me, I’ll be back shortly. And get someone to clean up this mess.” 

Taking a look at them as well, you didn’t understand as to why they all had knowing grins as they waved the two of you off. What was going to happened to you? Was he just playing tricks, was this the end for you? Your breathing only came in chops as he escorted you out of the room, the tears cascading down your face as you whimpered. 

“Please, don’t kill me! I have a family, please, I didn’t mean to spill-” You were cut off once again, only this time in an incredibly different way. Blinking rapidly, you moaned in surprised as his lips crashed onto yours, his hands rested on your lower back, pulling you in close. 

What was this you were feeling? 

This wasn’t the Kim Seokjin you’ve come to know for the past week, he never even gave you a passing glance - he didn’t know you existed until today. How come this kiss felt like he’s known you forever? 

After a few minutes, the two of you pulled away desperately in need for air, his hands now finding a new area to caress as he stared into your eyes. 

“I..I don’t understand…” 

“Have you any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? How long I’ve waited, and yet here you were this whole time - serving me wine.” Seeing that you were still confused, Jin chuckles softly. “What’s your name?” 

“Y-Y/n…”

“Y/n.” He repeated, allowing the name to slip off his tongue, like butter. “Such a pretty name, it suits you.” 

“So..you’re not gonna kill me, or cut my fingers off, or bathe me in acid-”

“Now, how could I do that to my soulmate?” Feeling your heart nearly stop, you practically choke on air at the word. “Sorry you had to hear all of that, from now on, you no longer have to serve me. And you have a family, you say? I’d like to meet them, they shall be protected for as long as I’m breathing, as well as you.”

“Whoa, wait, slow down. I-I’m your…b-but how could you possibly know?! Just five minutes ago, you didn’t know who I was, and now all of the sudden we’re soulmates? I just…I don’t understand.” Yes, everything was crashing onto you all at once, but you didn’t pull away from him. You let him continue to hold you; his presence oddly feeling right.

Jin couldn’t help but to laugh, the feeling of relief that he finally found you was enough to put him a constant good mood. Not even you’re obliviousness could annoy him; whether you believed him or not, he would get you see someday that he was made for you.

“There’s plenty of time to explain all of this - but wouldn’t you rather get cleaned up? This wine is starting to feel a little sticky.” 

The events of earlier almost made you forget the small slip up you made - realizing that it all came down to just overfilling a wine glass. If you hadn’t have been so careless, would you be in this situation? Would everything had been different if you hadn’t have screwed up? 

Was this fate? If he wasn’t going to kill you, why not at least see where all of this was going to lead. What was the worst that could happen? 

Nodding slowly, this time he went for your hand, leading the way to what you assumed to be his bedroom. 

“We are meant to be, my love. I’ll show you.” 

Yoongi 

➸ If there was anything else Yoongi could do, he would pick it in a heartbeat. He’d rather watch paint dry than wander around this party, surrounded by a whole bunch of idiots who were drunk off their asses while carrying lethal weapons. If anything, he feared for his life rather than enjoyed the event. To be honest he couldn’t even remember why he was there in the first place. 

“Attention, could I have everyone’s attention. I would like to thank you all for attending this special occasion. The day my only child takes over the family business.”

Ah, that’s right. He was sent to put in a good word for вts to the new mafia boss of BigHit; just to make sure there continued to be no bad blood between them. He didn’t know what the big deal was, just some guy getting a new position in something that was merely child’s play - in his opinion. Why was there a need for such a big fuss over one dude? 

Man, was he in for a kick in the balls when you walked out. You were far from being ‘some guy’ or a ‘dude’. You were a woman. And the ‘big fuss’ was because BigHit had never been run by a woman before. Especially not a woman that looked like pure sex. Yoongi nearly choked on his drink when you strutted out for the whole party to see, cheers erupting all around him, yet he couldn’t hear a thing. It was like all his senses were circled in on you, even senses he didn’t know he had were all focused. 

“My daughter, Y/n, the first female to ever run the empire. Babygirl - make daddy proud.” Yoongi couldn’t help but to fantasize about saying those final words to you someday, biting his lip as his eyes scanned you up and down. Definitely a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. He could only pray to the man in the sky, thanking that Jin-hyung made him come to this event.

Clearing his throat, he joined in the claps that congratulated their new boss, all sending their best wishes and positive vibes. Honestly, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her to discuss ‘business’. He watched you intensely as you made your way down the stairs, dress flowing behind you so elegantly it should be considered illegal to look as good as you did. You greeted anyone that was in your path - from hugs, to handshakes, to the friendly kisses on the cheek. 

But, as soon as you got to him - everything stopped. As if your brain had completely shut off, and you were merely a hallow shell. You didn’t even blink, your mouth hanging open like a fool as you stood in front of him with your arms open. 

If he hadn’t cleared his throat, you probably would have been stuck like that for a little while. Shaking your head, you chuckle nervously, reaching over to shake his hand. 

“So sorry, I don’t know what came over me for a second. You must be Yoongi, Seokjin told me that you would be attending tonight. Pleasure to finally put a face to a name.” When his hand had finally connect with yours, you could have sworn a bolt of electricity sprung up your right arm, almost making you jump back in alarm. Almost

“Pleasure is all mine,” Yoongi pulls you in closer by the hand, leaning down to place a light kiss upon your knuckles. “Miss Y/n.” 

The way your name fell from his lips nearly made you weak in the knees. Blinking a couple of times to compose yourself, you gesture with your other hand in the direction where your new, private office was located. 

“Shall we get down to business, then?” 

Tightening his grip on her hand, he nods slowly as a grin forms upon his lips. “Lead the way.” 

Namjoon 

➸ You two had made eye contact the minute you hit the stage. It was your first night being the main dancer, feeling so confident in yourself that you decided to wear a little something more than inappropriate - snagging Namjoon’s attention in under a second. Not only had he never seen you before, but you did something to him the same way a drug would do. His heart started to race, his palms sweating, everything around him going silent and his vision tunneling in on you and only you. 

For a moment, you forgot your whole routine, or that there were other men in the room you needed to interest; not just him. But, your mind felt as if he was all the attention you wanted - needed, even. You didn’t know what is was, but when the music started, you had no choice but to get into character and finally break eye contact. Namjoon leaned back into his chair, eyes still trained on your swaying figure as you started to dance, licking his lips slowly at your movements being so smooth and precise. 

“Behave yourself, Namjoon, we’ve only just arrived and you’re already eye-fucking one of the dancers.” Jin playfully punches his shoulder, him not flinching. “Yah, what’s the matter with you?” 

Tugging at the sudden tightness at his collar, Namjoon finds the strength to pull his eyes away from you, them now clouded with lust as he tried to allow his heart to slow down. Jin had seen this look before, many times actually, him having had the same look not too long ago. Nodding to his friend, slowly, Jin only chuckles as Namjoon spilled everything without having to say one word. 

“Ah, I see. You think she’s the one?” 

“I don’t think. I know she is.” He notices that your dance was coming close to an end, him not wasting a moment before standing up and adjusting himself. “Don’t wait up, I’m coming home late.” 

“Be gentle with her, Joonie~” Jimin giggles, chugging down yet another shot with Taehyung. “We don’t call you ‘God of Destruction’ for nothing.” 

It was as if you were expecting him when you descended from the stage, already signaling him to follow you to the private section of the club, a teasing little smirk creeping upon you face as you made sure to swing your hips with exaggeration as you walked. Raising an eyebrow in interest, Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle darkly as he happily started to follow you. 

“I think she can handle me.”  

Hoseok 

➸ Hoseok knew this was coming, eventually. He drank his poison and merely waited for it take effect, it was only a matter of time. He knew his wife was going to rat him out the minute she discovered the secrecy he’s kept from her for so long. 

“I hope that bitch was worth it, and that you rot in hell, Jung Hoseok!” 

He would only roll his eyes, as the police finished handcuffing them all, escorting them outside. There were millions of flashing lights as soon as they stepped foot through the doors; from reporters to people with camera phones, all taking pictures of the notorious mafia gang finally being brought to justice. 

Hoseok couldn’t help but to smile. These poor, naive fools.

People continuously shouted at them, from insults to curses, all saying this was a new beginning - now that the terrorists were finally going to be put behind bars, once and for all. Once the doors to the van were slammed shut, the seven of them looked at each other before all busting into a fit of laughter. The sound of the engine starting was loud enough to drown it out from anyone of the outside, driving away at lightening speed until the flashing lights of the cameras were submerged to nothing but tiny specks in the distance. 

For a straight ten minutes into the drive, they couldn’t keep from laughing - the whole situation seeming unreal and just hilarious to them. It wasn’t until the van had come to a complete stop did they all finally compose themselves enough to catch their breaths. Opening the double doors, they were greeted by a silhouette covered from head to toe in black, wearing a police helmet to hide their face; the laughter then returned once again. 

“Stop looking so fucking intimidating, your Oscar for world’s best actress is in the mail, Y/n.” Taehyung sarcastically remarked, you chuckling in response as your remove the helmet. Climbing into the van, you go over to Hoseok first, leaning downward to kiss him passionately - the guys not missing a beat to let out groans of disgust, mixed in with their laughter. 

“I always knew that tramp would sing like a canary. Not my fault her husband happened to my soulmate - and I sure as hell wasn’t going to share you for much longer, Hobi~” You unchained him from his handcuffs, so he could hold you properly as the two of you shared another kiss. 

“Yah, you two can ravish each other later! Right now, we gotta move, before the police realize this van never showed up to it’s original destination.” Namjoon warned. 

Pecking his lips one more time, you rush over to uncuff the rest of вts, them not wasting time to strip out of their suits. Putting on the casual clothing you had packed for them ahead of time, Yoongi then spread the inside of the van with gasoline as well as their previous clothing. Helping to push the vehicle into a nearby ditch, Hoseok held up a box of matches, his eyes piercing into your own. 

“Y/n. It is your choice if you want to continue on with us, or not. I’m going to be honest, once the feds catch on they will hunt us down like dogs, and it’s not going to be easy. I won’t make you do something you don’t want to-” 

You kiss him hard on the mouth before he could finish his speech, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close, signifying that you weren’t going anywhere. After pulling away from the passionate kiss, you happily take the matches from his hand, striking one of them - watching the flame come to life in the dark night. Taking a deep breath, you throw it toward the van, it perfectly landing on the roof of it. Not even seconds later did a blanket of fire start to spread around the vehicle, it being completely engulfed into the flames. The maknaes hoop and holler at the moon, dancing around with each other as the rest of you merely watched it burn. 

Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to place a kiss on your forehead. “This isn’t going to be fun, you know.”

You chuckle, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “If you’re trying to scare me into leaving, it’s not gonna work. I’m with you till the end, Hobi, until the day I die.” 

He could only smile, your response making his heart race uncontrollably - something his wife could never do. You were the breath of fresh air he’s been looking for. Sure everything he’s worked for is practically gone thanks to you, but he didn’t mind starting over. It was a small price to pay, for you. 

“I love you, Y/n. Until the day I die.”

Jimin 

➸ Unfortunately, you were on his hit list. Someone had called him in to finish the job, getting rid of the witness who had gotten away with too much information. But, there was no record that you even existed, besides a name and the location where you worked. You kept a low profile, due to your reputation of being a well known snitch, only the last thing you spied on - you were sloppy. They saw you sneaking out of the window when you felt like you’ve gotten all that you needed. They didn’t see your face, but they knew enough to track you down - for him to track you down. 

Jimin entered the bar, dressed in nothing but black as he scanned the area. Checking over the exits, giving an educated guess of how many people were in the place, playing out all the possibly scenarios that could unfold tonight. The worst that could happen is that the police could get involved, allowing you to get away, and fail the mission. But, Jimin was a lot of things; a failure wasn’t one of them. 

The only information he was given was that you were either a server here, or a performer in one of the cages that hung from the ceiling. He knew that no one had seen your face before, but he felt that he could put a name of a face. Jimin wouldn’t be good at what he did if he couldn’t. Scanning the cages, none of the girls that shamelessly flashed their naked bodies seemed to fit the small profile. Huffing, he crosses the cages out; only one thing left to investigate. 

Sitting at one of tables, he pressed the button in front of him to gain service from one of the waitresses that would migrate all over the place. It took no more than five minutes for one of them to finally make their way over to him, notepad in hand, with sweat glistening off their face and nearly exposed torso; he nearly giggles at the faint appearance of glitter. It wasn’t until his eyes had landed on your face did the look of amusement completely melt from his features, quickly replaced with the blank one he had came in with. Trying to catch your breath in the stuffy bar, you didn’t even notice his face yet in the dimly lit area where the table was located. 

Jimin gulps, trying to keep himself calm before his heart nearly busted out of his chest. It couldn’t be you, it just couldn’t. He prayed to god that it wasn’t, that you were someone random who worked here, that his instincts were wrong this one time. When you had finally caught your breath, chuckling softly, you politely bowed in apology - still haven’t lifted your head up to look at him. 

“I am terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. My name is Y/n, I’ll be your server for tonight, what can I get for yo-…” You had then looked up, your professional smile dropping to a look of pure terror, as you took a small step back. Jimin’s blank expression switched to something that seemed as if he were in physical pain, tears forming in his eyes as he couldn’t bear to look into your terrified ones. 

You knew who he was, and what he was there to do. That only seemed to pain Jimin even further as the rapid beating of his heart only confirmed his worst nightmare: he’d have to kill his soulmate. 

“Y/n, I’m begging you…please run.” 

Taehyung 

➸ Taehyung had a reputation of being incapable of feeling anything. Emotions he once had in the past completely erased from his genetic code thanks to the rough teachings from his father. He grew up with no warmth of a mother’s touch, no grandmother, nor sister, just merely male presence for as long as he can remember. 

He hated smiling. Anytime his father caught him even so much as grinning, he earned himself a beating. He hated laughing. Anytime he would laugh for having fun, another beating, then no dinner. He hated crying. Anytime Tae would cry after a beating, or from hunger, he would only get beat even more - and possibly the loss of food privileges for a whole week. After a while, Kim Taehyung learned to not feel a thing. It’s the only thing that kept him alive. 

When he arrived at the party, he was greeted with friendly smiles, warm welcomes, you name it - they wanted to make him feel special. After his father’s death recently, he had been promoted to head boss - taking the news with a blank expression and curt nod. Never shed a tear about his father, or for this grand opportunity he’s been trained for since birth. He felt nothing. 

Jin accompanied Taehyung, being his ride to the event. Jin’s job was to be his smile, his laugh, anything that had to do with emotion - Jin was the man to be called. But, if the eldest didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he had seen Taehyung grinning at something when they entered; for a split second. 

“I’m gonna go scout for the others, and find our reserved table. Don’t do anything rash, remember your temper.” 

“Aish, Jin-hyung, you’re like the mother I never had.” Taehyung spoke with monotone, his hooded eyes never faltering. “I’ll be a good boy.” 

Jin raises his eyebrow in confusion. “Did…Did you just make a joke?” 

Blinking a couple of times, Taehyung turns away from him while looking anywhere else to distract this tingly feeling at his finger tips. Shrugging slightly, he starts walking away without another word to Jin, leaving him to stand there for moment. Scoffing softly, he just shakes his head. He would forever be a mystery to him. 

Taehyung walked forward with no particular destination, but he couldn’t stop. He was looking for something, someone perhaps, he just didn’t know who. It wasn’t until he had ran into a server with a tray in their hands did he snap out of his zombie-like state. A small gasp made him look down at the mess he had created, the girl in front of him looking as if she had just seen as ghost. Bowing multiple times, you apologize multiple times in one breath, lowering to floor to quickly gather everything you dropped so you could escape his sight before he could catch a good look at your face. The last thing you needed was to turn up dead the next day all because of a clumsy mistake. 

But, it wasn’t your fault, and he knew that. 

Everything around the two of had stopped, everyone staring in equal shock and sympathy as they all concluded that you probably just made the biggest mistake of your life. Taehyung stared down at you once more, eye twitching slightly as tears cascaded down your face as you practically begged for forgiveness for getting his blazer all messy. He didn’t like the sight, not in the slightest - usual he would find joy in someone pleading for mercy, but coming from you - it didn’t leave the right taste in his mouth. 

Without hesitation, Taehyung drops to his knees, helping you pick up the shattered glass piece by piece. You lowered your head even further to keep from making eye contact, afraid to see the look of rage in his eyes. He looked you over for a moment, seeing multiple cuts all over your hands from picking up shards of glass with your bare hands in such a hurry to get away from him. You looked so fragile, so scared, so…cute. It had been a while since he’s seen something like that. Gently as he could, he gripped your chin, lifting your head up to finally make eye contact with him. 

Gasping softly once again, your breathing stops altogether when you see all the emotion held in such soft brown eyes. They were so wide, so curious, nothing like in the stories people would gossip about on the streets. Tears still leaked from your eyes as you sat still, in fear that one wrong move could set him off. Taehyung on the other hand couldn’t understand this rapid beating in his chest, the same way it did when he first saw you when he came in - you were the one Jin almost caught him grinning at. 

“What’s your name?” He finally spoke, voice low so not to frighten you. “Please, tell me your name. I’m not going to hurt you, just please…” 

Gulping, you blink away a few more tears, sniffling before answering. “Y/n. My name is L/n Y/n. I’m 19 years old, I have no family except my little sister at home who needs me, she’s only 6, I bed you, please don’t…”

You start to choke on your own words at the tears once again started to flow, clenching Taehyung’s heart to the point he was extremely confused as to what this feeling was. Never has he experienced anything like this before, it being so long to where he’s forgotten the name for it. Pain? Anger? Sadness? 

Whatever it was, he didn’t want you expressing it any longer. Not wasting another moment, he picks you up into his arms, practically cradling you in way he could only wish someone did for him growing up. He not only surprised those all around him, and you, but himself as well. Blinking a couple of times, he glares.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” 

Just that alone was enough to make everyone practically sprint in different directions. Taehyung only scoffs before heading the direction went in, making you tense up in his arms more than before. 

“W-Where are you taking me?” 

He doesn’t answer, just keeps walking forward. When he had finally come across the rest of his group, they all stared up at him with either confusion or surprised; perhaps a combination of both. Tae takes his seat, not even considering their feelings about how this must look to them, now resting you on his lap. You practically vibrated in his hold, very confused as why you were there or what he wanted from you. What really shocked you the most would be how he wrapped his arms around your middle, hugging you to his chest while nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. 

Looking over his table for any explanation, you weren’t expecting them to all sudden have some kind of mental understanding as to why he was acting this way. Taehyung leans upward until he felt close enough to your ear, whispering softly into your ear that made your blood run cold. 

“I’m keeping you. You make me feel again.”

Jungkook 

➸ Jungkook was to be on his best behavior at this dinner, having been told that it was a meeting between long term rivals to finally end any bad blood that was between them. He understood completely; don’t be disrespectful, no dirty looks, don’t even so much as open his mouth. If they wanted this to be a sure thing, then he needed to be the golden maknae he’s been trained to be. 

Sure, that seemed like an easy to do, it’s nothing new to be told those rules whenever there was a meeting of importance. The only difference in this particular meeting that almost made shit hit the fan - their rival’s daughter was not only smoking hot…but also his soulmate. Now, Jungkook being the youngest, it was a whole lot harder to hide intense emotions that finding your soulmate could do to you. Just the sight of you made his heart race, his only focus being you as all his thoughts were only interested on what your name was, where had you been all his life, and how did you like your eggs in the morning after spending a night with him? The longer he looked at you, the more sinful his mind turned - to the point Jimin had to pinch him in the arm to bring his focus back on the meeting before anyone noticed. 

“What the hell could you possibly be staring at that hard?” He hissed under his breath, before blushing hard and looking elsewhere. “Are you aroused? Right now, are you fucking kidding me, Jungkook?” 

“It’s not my fault!” He bit back, blush covering his face as well. Wincing slightly at the sudden pain in his ankle, he jets his eyes to his left to see that Yoongi was give the two of them a warning glare. Jungkook couldn’t help the increasing tightness in his pants, having to bite his tongue to keep from whimpering at the slight throb. “Oh, fuck, it hurts…” 

He tried with all his might to hold in any noises he wanted so bad to let out, having to rest his head in his hands to take deep breaths to calm his racing heart. It wouldn’t have been overlook if his elbows hadn’t have slammed into the table - the sound echoing around the once tranquil meeting that was now more of an awkward silence. Jungkook could practically feel all eyes on him, and hear the faint sound of Namjoon face palming. Lifting his head up slowly, he sheepishly smiles. 

“S-Sorry…migraine.” He quickly covered, the boss not seeming to look fooled. But, with a small nod, he gestures for someone to come forward. Jungkook nearly choked on his spit when you walked past him, swearing that you had just ran your finger tips over his back. When you made it over to your father, he whispered something in your ear - you soon nodding that you understood. 

Walking over to him yet again, you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to flash him a warm smile that nearly made him faint right then and there. Without speaking, Jungkook stood, crossing his hands in front of his crotch area to hide the evident bulge that was forming. Following your lead, the two of you exit the room to let them continue the meeting in peace. Once he was positive you were no longer within earshot of the room, he didn’t hesitate to pin you to the wall. 

“What did your father say?” He all but groans in your ear, making sure to grind his lower half into yours to let you know all that you’ve done to him without even touching him. “Does he know you’re my soulmate?” 

“N-No. He just said ‘take care of him’. But, he never specified on how.” You breathlessly spoke, holding onto his broad shoulders as you slowly started to lose your train of thought. The minute he walked in, you were intoxicated. Your vision became blurry, your palm sweaty; your mother had told you all the symptoms, you just never knew they would be this intense. “They way you looked at me, I knew you felt it, too.” 

“Why send you to escort me out, then? Not that I’m complaining.”

You moaned softly as his lips found that one sweet spot near your ear, it becoming harder and harder to think straight. 

“He wants me to learn the family business. He wants me to teach you a lesson, I-I guess - punish you f-for interrupting.” 

Jungkook grins slyly as he finally pulls away from the now purple mark blossoming on your neck. Your flustered state was definitely something he could get used to seeing - even if it had to be behind his hyungs’ backs, or your ruthless father. You were so worth it. 

“Well then…punish me, baby.” 

Possible-Future-Girlfriend

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky claims you can’t flirt for shit, you prove him wrong

Word Count: 2164

Warnings: pure fluff

Author’s Note: this is one of the first fluff i’ve written, i hope you enjoy (re)reading it :)

Masterlist Here

Sometimes you never really understood James Buchanan Barnes.

What is going on inside that pretty little head of his? What keeps him up all night sometimes. He’s assured you that it’s not the nightmares anymore. Those are the things he left in the past, along with all the terrible memories. But let’s not get drifted off to the apprehensive shit here. You have much important things to concentrate on.

Bucky Barnes is much happier now. He jokes around, flirts with girls at clubs or parties or any other place. He loves the cinema, especially the TV shows - so much that he binge watches them whenever Bucky and you are hanging out at your apartment.

He’s catching up on the new technology, too. You and Steve bought him a new phone for his birthday this year and boy, he cannot stop clicking pictures on it. And you know snooping is wrong, but most of the pictures on his camera roll are of Steve, the New York City skyline and you. You were surprised at first, but this man practically spends every free second of his time with you, so that was enough of an answer. Plus, you’d be lying to yourself and the rest the world if you’d say that your phone gallery isn’t stacked with pictures of Bucky.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can we talk parallels with shieth and allurance? Pretty pls?

aBSOLUTELY, HERE WE GO:

In A New Defender, everyone is obviously concerned when the magic strikes Allura. But–just before we see anyone else’s face, we get a purposeful closeup on Lance, and he looks absolutely terrified. And as soon as Allura goes down? Lance is the first one running to help her up. 

You know what this reminds me of? Remember Keith’s trial–how Shiro sprinted after him as soon as he saw he was in danger, how visibly distraught he was as he immediately grabbed Keith and cradled him close? Yeah, both of these read as scenes typically reserved for a character’s love interest to me. Like, Lance and Shiro even have the same look on their face, and we know Lance cares for Allura romantically, so–this isn’t even subtle. 

There’s how Keith and Shiro are always so supportive, and now we’re seeing Lance and Allura start to repeat that very same pattern. Where Keith and Shiro always looked to each other for strength, we’re starting to see clear parallels of that in allurance as well. Most notably 1) when Allurance looks to Lance for help in season 3 and Allura in turn assures him he’s a natural 2) when Lance fears he might no longer have a place on the team and Allura reaffirms just how important he is, and 3) when Lance encourages Allura at the end of season 4. “You’re the heart of Voltron,” is such a touching line, as is the exchange–“Thank you, Lance,” “That was all you.” They’re so sweet, and the evolving dynamic is very reminiscent of sheith. 

There’s also this very specific, interesting parallel in that Allura lets her walls down and reveals a part of her tragic past to Keith. Similarly, through the BOM trial, Shiro sees Keith’s past. And yeah, both of those scenes involve unveiling information about the respect characters’ lost fathers, which is interesting. On Allura’s end, it shows she openly trusts Lance enough to share this information voluntarily. And as for Keith, though the memories were projected against his will, Shiro is still the only person this information is ever divulged to. I doubt Keith would trust those memories with anyone else. 

The last thing I’m going to touch on is how the lion exchange between Keith and Shiro is incredibly similar to Lance and Allura’s. And yes, in the case of the latter it was a two way exchange, because it wasn’t Keith who handed of Red to Lance. No, that honor goes to Allura. And just like how Allura encourages Lance to take up the mantle of the Red lion, Lance in turn tells Allura she was  meant to pilot Blue. “If I had to lose Blue to anyone, I’m glad it was you.” “The Blue lion chose you for a reason.” The situation is a clear parallel to how Keith and Shiro keep insisting the other is the true black paladin, and each tries to comfort the other with that fact. “The Black lion has chosen you. I’m proud of you, Keith.” “It was always meant to be yours.” 

so yeah, I think these two ships are endgame   

The Celebrity Magazine; Fall 2017 Issue
Chanyeol’s Interview

Question: You have a very strong image of optimism. Haven’t you ever wanted to break from that?
Chanyeol: When i was younger i thought my bright and optimistic image would create certain preconceptions for the music i wanted to compose, so i wanted to break away from the image, but these days i compose without thinking about that kind of thing. Because there is bound to be someone who enjoys that kind of music too. I’m living comfortably with that thought.

Question: I’ve heard that you got in trouble from your mother when you told her you wanted to raise a mouse that got caught in a mouse trap. Do you like animals?
Chanyeol: Animals are like family to me. I’ve always had animals with me since i was a child. These days i have no time to raise a pet because i’m busy, but i play with the dog at my parents’ place whenever i visit. Unfortunately i’ve developed a cat fur allergy which i didn’t have when i was younger, so i have to be careful.

Question: Your low voice is so nice to listen to. I’m curious about which songs you enjoy singing.
Chanyeol: I like singing. I sing Jung Jun Il sunbae-nim’s “Hug Me” a lot. I’ve even uploaded myself singing it in my own style. There are people who are surprised when i sing because they only know me as a rapper. Before i wanted to gain recognition for my singing, but these days i don’t feel that it’s necessary to worry myself like that.

Question: Not feeling the need to worry yourself can be seen as a sign of maturity. Was there a moment that caused it?
Chanyeol: My personality is rather impatient. I feel the need to do things immediately and feel anxious when i don’t. When i look at it i think the moment that helped me was all the bowling i did when i found myself with time to spare. I got impatient that i couldn’t control the bowl properly so clung to it for two months bowling until early morning, but i actually bowled better after a two month break when i went back with an easier mind. I control myself with the thought of ‘If i get it it’s good and if i don’t get it i’ll make it eventually’. Maybe it’s because personalities don’t change but i’m still impatient.

Question: Any songs that you find touching?
Chanyeol: I couldn’t understand them when i was younger but these days i really love songs by Black Skirt and Lee Sora sunbaenim. I was looking up their songs and suddenly found myself overcome with emotion, almost as though something was flowing into me.

Question: I’m curious about your current playlist.
Chanyeol: Amy Winehouse, Migos, Aerosmith, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC and more. There are also songs from the OST of the animation <Your Name>, which i watched recently.

Question: What did you like about <Your Name>?
Chanyeol: I like the subtle emotions that you find in Japanese films. I think i get pulled in very easily by the hooks Shinkai Makoto sets up. Of course the visuals are beautiful, but i really enjoyed the introduction of fantasy elements in a still realistic setting. The fact that the main protagonist went through a great deal of events but couldn’t remember any of it was sad.

Question: You debuted in 2012. Do you have any aspirations for your music as an idol of 5 years?
Chanyeol: EXO has always shown a new, trendy and constantly changing side of us in our own unique colours. You could see each member growing obviously for each album. I have faith in the company, so i believe that we will continue to grow in the future. I have a lot of passion for music personally too. At the moment i just want to enjoy myself with the music as it comes, without feeling as though i have to do something. It isn’t a greed from impatience, i could call it more of a greed to do better.

Question: Is there anything that influences your music?
Chanyeol: My surroundings. When i see someone who’s talented in music i want to be talented like them. I get the same desire when i meet an artist i respect or see a good performance. These days i pray alot before composing too. Praying helps me go into composing by letting me collect my thoughts and putting me in a calmer state.

Question: I’m curious about the artists you like.
Chanyeol: I’m a fan of Jamie Cullum. I like his voice and the way he plays the piano. I’m also a fan of pianist Yoon Suk Chul’s works. He’s so talented to the point where i think ‘he must be the god of piano’. I learn a lot from composing with him. I listen to a variety of genres but jazz and rock are my constants.

Question: You contributed in writing the lyrics of a song in your 4th official album. Is it an autobiographical story?
Chanyeol: No. ‘Sweet Lies’ is a story very far from me. I thought alot about what i would be like if i was a bad boy, but the style doesn’t really fit with me so it was a little difficult (laughs). G. Soul composed and wrote the lyrics for the frame of the song and when i first heard the melody i thought that kind of story would suit it.

Question: You’ve been called a ‘face prodigy’. What do you think when you look into the mirror.
Chanyeol: I admit it (laughs) I feel proud occasionally when i look in the mirror. I usually wear black clothing without accessorising very much. I started off thinking ‘I’ll be okay even though i’m wearing this’ but i stick to it now because it’s so comfortable. Comfort is the most important for going to the studio and bowling alley, home and so on. So i don’t really have much of an interest for appearances but when there’s a schedule and i look in the mirror with makeup i think ‘as expected’ (both laugh)

Question: You were wearing the so-called three-lined slippers at London, you’re even wearing them now.
Chanyeol: That’s right. These are the shoes and pants i wore then. I wore them because they were comfortable but even the London people were surprised. I told them it was outerwear clothes.

Question: As an artist, there are people who don’t hesitate on stage but are shy in front of a camera. Conversely, there are people who shine both on stage and enjoy themselves as a celebrity on variety shows or dramas. Which side do you lean towards?
Chanyeol: The former. There are lots of people that think i don’t talk when i go on variety shows and on top of that i’m very shy so it takes me a while to get comfortable. I still try though. I like seeing new sides of me so i always like a new challenge.

Question: I’m curious on how you feel about Seoul as someone who’s travelled all over the world.
Chanyeol: Even though i don’t feel particularly different when i’m overseas, the first thought i have when i come to Seoul is ‘Oh! I’m home’. When i come to Incheon airport and take my phone off airport mode, it’s convenient that the wifi works well. I don’t go around very much overseas.

Question: Last question. What gives you inspiration these days?
Chanyeol: Myself. Not because i’m particularly special but because i’m thinking a lot about myself. In the end i think all things conclude with yourself. So i find myself gaining inspiration for the types of music i really want to do.

Translation by fyeah-chanyeol
(Please take out with full credits)