but then it spins on a dime and breaks my heart

A Lost Memory

Summary: Newt deals with a loss he believes he can never recover from with firewhiskey.

Request: “I would like angst and angst and tear my heart apart and smash it into the gutters. Regrets and tears and mistakes were made "I never want to see you again” HURT ME"

Word Count: 3,407

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by @red-roses-and-stories (I hope this broke your heart enough) but also tagging @caseoffics @dont-give-a-bother @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ly–canthrope @benniesgalaxy @thosefantasticbeast2

You run your hand down Newt’s bicep, popping up onto your toes to rest your chin on his shoulder and peer over him to the papers in front of him. “Whatcha doing, babe?”

“Studying the reactive tendencies of various…” he trails off, brow furrowing as the liquid in front of him turns a deep violet shade. “Well, that hardly seems right.”

You giggle and fall back to give him space. “Be careful you don’t let Pickett fall in.”

Newt scarcely appears to process your words, giving you a distracted “hmm” in response.

You roll your eyes and slide under his arm as he scribbles something onto a note. Extending your arm, you let Pickett hop onto your hand. He squeaks away as you draw him to your side.

“Come on, Pickett, we’ll go make supper so someone here doesn’t let us all starve.”

Newt’s eyes crinkle with his smile as he glances up at you. “And who did you say exaggerates the most this morning?”

You stick your tongue out. “I still think you do it more often.”

Newt watches you whisper to Pickett as you walk out, and before he returns to his work, he checks the drawer to make sure the box is still there.

Thunder rumbles, a heavy roll that rattles the rack of vials on the table.

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this is just me at 4am (welll, 5 now) trying to dig a but into trini’s character

Read on AO3


She was staring at the wooden table as if she could pierce a hole through it if she tried hard enough. Her skin was itchy and burning hot as if her blood was trying to escape her veins. She could hear her heart beating and felt it in her throat. The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock, punctuated with her mother’s occasional sighs.

Tick. Tock.

Trini shifts slightly on her chair.


She was counting the seconds in her head. Tick. Tock. Seventy-two. Seventy-three. She was trying really hard not to look up because she knew all too well what she would find. Her father’s sad eyes and her mother’s clenched jaw and stiff posture.

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WWE Preference; #33; Please Don’t Give Up on Me

 *warning; there’s talk of drug abuse and addiction in Dean’s, if it makes you uncomfortable, skip it please <3**


Originally posted by cesaros-arms

           Please, don’t give up on me,” he mumbled as you sat next to him with your head down on the table on the kitchen island, his statement making you sigh. Being in love with a man who’s multi lingual is sometimes wonderful and also sometimes the hardest moments of your life.

               You’d gotten into a fight when you’d expressed your concern about a new women’s wrestler from NXT flirting with Cesaro in front of you, him wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they talked and he gave her advice while you were working in the ring with her. He didn’t understand that it was a big deal to have his hands on her, especially when you were in a relationship and in the ring with them.

               “I’m not giving up on you,” you told him lightly, reaching down to grab his hand and spin your chair to face him completely, your other hand going up to his cheek and your thumb rubbing on the stubble on his jaw. “I understand that where you come from, it’s perfectly normal to put your arm around someone when you talk and to be close to someone to you’re comfortable with but as your girlfriend, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable when she was giving you googly eyes,” you said and his eyes narrowed.

               “What does that mean? Googly eyes,” he repeated your statement and you sighed a little bit and bit your lip.

               “She was giving you the eyes that I would give you when I want to have sex,” you simplified for him and his eyes widened, his mouth falling open.

               “Oh,” he gasped, immediately peppering kisses over your face. “I’m so sorry love, I had no idea that that was what it looked like. I promise I’ll start paying more attention to faces then words,” he promised and pecked you gently on the lips.

 Dean Ambrose;

Trigger warning; drug use and talk of addiction*

I got hella emotional writing this so sorry for the feels**

Originally posted by moxleysmistress

               “Please don’t give up on me,” he whispered, his head low as he sat on the bathtub edge while you flushed the bag of drugs he’d recently bought down the toilet. “I know I’m a mess,” he grumbled, his head going into his hands as his breathing got heavy.

               You avoided his eyes, not sure what to say. You’d been with Dean since he started as Jon Moxley and as he was about to begin working with WWE, he needed to get clean, something he’d struggled with for most of his young life and something you’d tried to help him do for a long long time. You didn’t like Dean when he was high, that much was obvious. You’d never partake in them, afraid of what damage they would do and you didn’t like the void gaze in his eyes when he’d just had a few hits, like no one was home to take the message.

               “You are a mess,” you sighed and sat on the bathroom floor, looking up at him as your eyes connected. “Are you high right now? Is this my boyfriend I’m talking to or did Mox take over for the evening?”

               “Why do you say it like that?” he asked, sniffling as a tear slipped from his eyes indicating that he was your boyfriend and not the crazy one.

               “Because Dean, I need to know how to talk to you in this conversation because you are completely different when you’re high and I’ve been doing this for six years now and I don’t know how much more I can do this with you Dean,” you tell him, standing up and walking toward the door, leaning on the frame.

               “You tell me you want to be clean and you want my help and then I find you in the bathroom with a dime bag,” you exclaim, punching the doorframe, splitting your skin from the impact and crying out as you shake it harshly, blood seeping through the wound. “I don’t want to give up on you but I don’t know what else I can do.” You tell him and glanced at him as he stands up to assess your hand in concern. “What you’re doing, is like watching me punch this wall, me telling you that it hurts but then punching the wall again,” you explained, tears streaming down your face now.

               He pulled you toward him and hugged you tightly to his chest, crying as well, knowing he was only hurting the both of you. “I can’t lose you Dean, I’m never going to give up on you but you can’t give up on yourself,” you tell him quietly as you stand holding each other and sobbing, trying to figure out your next move after he wraps up your hand.

 Finn Balor;

Originally posted by prowrestlingnow

               “Please, don’t give up on me,” he begs, his thick Irish accent coming out even heavier as he stands in the middle of the hotel room, watching you pack your bags as you sigh and throw another shirt in your bag, ignoring him. “Please don’t ignore me,” he whispers, making you turn around and glare at him.

               “How does it feel?” you replied angrily, hurt flashing across his face but more of a sadness for knowing that he made you feel that way. “You know what Finn, I travel on a redeye to surprise you at NXT, to tell you that I’m going to be able to stay and be with you for two weeks and you tell me that you don’t know if that’s going to work with how much work you have leading up to you moving to Raw where I won’t be able to see you for longer periods of time,” you tell him as you zip up your bag and begin to move to the bathroom to pack up your toiletries.

               “Baby, I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know that you were coming and the draft happened and they revealed me moving up to the main roster-,” he began but you stopped him and turned around even more angry.

               “No, no. no, no, no, no! This is not about work! You are making this argument about work,” you yell at him, “You make everything that’s wrong with our relationship about your work. It’s not about what you’ve said wrong or how I feel, it’s about work! I can’t do this anymore Finn,” you say, suddenly quiet, your broken expression breaking through your hard exterior and his heart breaks that he’s caused you this much pain.

               “I never realized that I was making you feel this way,” he whispered, fearing running through him that you’d leave.

               “No, you wouldn’t, you don’t see our relationship anymore Finn, that’s the problem,” you whispered, moving back out of the bathroom and throwing your toiletries in your bags.

AH Origins: Gavin

AH Origins explores how the Fake AH Crew came together. Their heists, their origins and their rise to power.

The first story is Gavin’s origin.

America wasn’t as glamorous as it had looked in the movies. Gavin might even go as far as to say it was a let-down. Still, there was a pulse here. He liked that. There was movement, and people, and the city never slept. Los Santos was different to Oxfordshire in every way, and that at least was an improvement.

It was 3 am on the east side of Los Santos. Gavin sat at the bar in O’Reilley’s, sitting on the same stool he’d been on since 10pm.

One more drink. That was it. He flipped a coin in to his beer.

‘God save the queen,’ he muttered.

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Let me tell you a story about love.

The first time was the worst, I think my world shattered that night, everything around me just kind of fell apart and I couldn’t do anything about it. First it was the coming home late, started out at two nights a week, the “oh I have to stay for work” story, yeah I’ve heard that bullshit before. Then shortly after it became a Monday through Friday type of thing, and eventually somewhere along the line you never walked through that door at all at times. The tears started rollin’ in, I never thought my body could produce that much liquid, it was like a sea in my own goddamn bed, and I was drowning and I couldn’t get out. I can still smell that alcohol upon your breath, how you’d come lay down next to me and feed me lies, but the bags that dressed your eyes exposed the truth, and out came the wrinkles across your face, but was that really from the stress? Then came the classics, makeup on the shirt, another women’s scent - wasn’t my scent for sure, I would’ve never put a dime down for cheap ass perfume like that. Then the aftermath, your tears now with countless apologies and so much begging. My ears hurt after a while, you were telling me one thing but my heart was saying another and my head began to spin, so many circles. I really didn’t know what to do so I made it long enough to your realization that I was the one for you, and so I stayed.

The second time hurt a little less, you really had me fooled thinking the first was the last. But it started again, the late nights, the alcohol, the distance, the fighting, the makeup and good lord, that goddamn cheap ass smell, pick someone with a better nose for god-sake next time. But you see I had some experience this time around; had my bags packed by the door and the kids in my hands, all I had to do was take a few steps and I didn’t need to come home to this anymore but I stopped. One look at you and I couldn’t walk away. So I put the kids down and the clothes back in the drawers and ate dinner that night with a twisted smile and dark eyes looking across at me, I was trapped.

Then came another and I really wanted to walk out that door this time but I stayed, for the three little ones, I guess it was always that way. You see you attract what you know, and you do what you know - my own mother was treated like shit and she stayed and so, I did too. It’s a cycle that I didn’t break when I really should’ve, it’s a cycle that needs to end. I took it up a notch, packed everything, the furniture, the toys, the clothes, even you and I dragged us one hundred and fifteen miles away from this hell hole. You needed a break, you needed to be forced to clear that intoxicated head of yours and just maybe I’d be able to get you back. See I kept running from my problems that it led to me starting a new life, but your past catches up to you, it always catches up to you.

I’ve realized now that people never change, we all fall back into our old habits and sometimes, some people just can’t be saved. Ten years later and this was the last one. Maybe there were more in between but sometimes it’s better not knowing. But I got fed up, I really couldn’t do it anymore. I tried, I honestly did but I spent twenty years holding onto this burden and it was time to let you go. There comes a time when you finally reach the point where you’re tired, and it’s not giving up or quitting, it’s walking from everything that’s holding you down so that you could live again. I needed to find myself again, this game got old and so I finally left. But I did this all because I love you. I know your weaknesses, they didn’t, I know what could ultimately send you down a rabbit hole, they didn’t, and I knew that if I had walked out that door several years ago, my kids may have grown up without a father. I was your support, I was your foundation, you couldn’t have done it without me and I didn’t know any better, but what I did know was you and so I stayed.

—  c.f. // “the cycle”
Random Lyric Starters (Part Three)
  • "It was cool, breaking rules."
  • "It's gonna be a bitchin' summer."
  • "She is a pageant queen."
  • "Nothing matters, so we might as well."
  • "Just like dust we settle in this town."
  • "I'd wait all day just for a maybe."
  • "I kinda fell in love with a Palm Spring's trailer park."
  • "I tried to kill the pain."
  • "I just wish I'd told you nevermind."
  • "I felt really small under Mount Rushmore."
  • "Must admit I'm pretty nervous."
  • "It's now or never."
  • "I'm just not right for you."
  • "He is the basketball star."
  • "There's nothing I can do to make it go away."
  • "We were only 15."
  • "I'm hung up."
  • "The neighbor boy taught her how to french kiss."
  • "I got too big for my britches."
  • "Nobody knows."
  • "There's no turning back."
  • "I guess I just got lost."
  • "I'd be everything you need."
  • "Do it while we're young."
  • "I would stay."
  • "Look at you."
  • "I can shine with my own light."
  • "I've had my picture made with Willie Nelson."
  • "I know you probably have a man."
  • "I'll pick you up at the liquor store."
  • "She's the kind of girl you marry."
  • "All I really wanna say is I need ya babe."
  • "I was raised by a good time."
  • "You won't dream that big."
  • "We won't end up like our parents."
  • "It might seem strange."
  • "Let me be me."
  • "All safe and sound."
  • "I'll never see the light of day."
  • "Daddy's got eyes in the back of his head."
  • "That's all I'm ever gonna be."
  • "We think the first time's good enough."
  • "Everyone is waiting on the bell."
  • "I'm too tired to fight."
  • "Where I'm from, we started young."
  • "Is this as perfect as it seems?"
  • "That's all I've ever wanted from this world."
  • "I'm just a dime store cowgirl."
  • "I heard Wonderwall bleeding through your headphones."
  • "There's so much more room for running."
  • "I'll still call my hometown home."
  • "It don't matter if you don't believe."
  • "Excuse me, miss."
  • "Nevermind."
  • "Call them girls."
  • "I thought that you should know this."
  • "Here's the funny thing, she's not a day older than 18."
  • "School is finally out."
  • "If you ain't got 2 kids by 21, you're probably gonna die alone."
  • "I'll never find my heart."
  • "Just cause it don't cost a lot don't mean it's cheap."
  • "She's in her room grounded."
  • "You don't even know my name."
  • "That's what tradition told you."
  • "Come and party."
  • "I'm not a beauty queen."
  • "I wanna know who you are."
  • "Those California stars could never steal my heart."
  • "Any minute the cops are coming to get us."
  • "I'd rather be alone than lose you."
  • "We get bored so we get married."
  • "Just let me be myself."
  • "She's too young to read."
  • "It ain't slowing down."
  • "She won't love you like I would."
  • "Move your body."
  • "If not tonight, maybe tomorrow."
  • "She wants to fly, and never look down."
  • "We are so alive."
  • "Say that it's okay."
  • "You wouldn't dream that big."
  • "I could tell you now."
  • "Maybe I regret not loving you."
  • "Mary just don't give a damn no more."
  • "No dating till you're eighteen."
  • "It's so sad to think."
  • "The sun is shining down."
  • "I'm shook up."
  • "I'm so tired of waiting for you."
  • "What I got is all I need."
  • "She's the one you wanna carry into your brand new home."
  • "We can fit one more."
  • "How could you understand?"
  • "Look at me."
  • "I don't ever do this."
  • "They got her whole life on lockdown."
  • "Please, would you one time?"
  • "My cell phone's dying."
  • "I'm happy with what I got."
  • "Look at who we could be."
  • "But then there's you."
  • "Ain't what you want, it's what you know."
  • "I've been watching you for days."
  • "I guess it's alright for right now."
  • "I have bigger dreams than living in this town."
  • "All I really wanna do is be next to you."
  • "It don't matter where I'm going."
  • "She's in her bedroom."
  • "Every time I look at you, I can hardly say a thing, my head starts to spin, and it hits me then, I love you."
  • "Maybe for a minute."
  • "Ain't no way in hell they're catching us."
  • "She looked better in white than I ever could."
  • "I'm lovestruck."
  • "I think of who we could be."
  • "Put your hands up."
  • "Tonight, she's tucked inside her tiny little town."
  • "Maybe it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
  • "If you happen to be unattached."
  • "Every time you look at me I could go crazy, but I don't."
  • "I don't wanna drown."
  • "We're all gonna run, when the police come."
the law of falling bodies (act ii)

second part of indie au:

lots of things happen.  carm is trying here. elle is trying, too. and dad just wants everyone to be happy.


‘these, our bodies, possessed by light. tell me we’ll never get used to it.’
- richard siken, ‘scheherazade’


you want to help Elle with her dysphoria—something she had to explain to you quietly, after dad had turned off the smoke alarm and remade your hot chocolate and tucked you both into the couch in the den with the blanket your baka knit you.  She told you her body doesn’t feel like hers, sometimes, especially when she dresses in her ‘boy clothes’—she had said this with distaste, her nose crinkling at the thought of her loose tank tops and dropped crotch pants.  You told her she has always been beautiful, no matter what she wears, and she blushed prettily before nudging your thigh and telling you to ‘shut up, you angelic bitch.’

So you and Elle raid your closet the next morning, after you wake her up with a tickle attack.  Dad had said it was okay for Elliot to stay the night, as long as it was fine with his parents.  She had flinched at the pronouns and the name, but you knew she wasn’t ready, so you just said ‘thanks, dad.’

When you attack her, she squeals grumpily and tries to roll away.  You straddle her quickly, and she laughs and laughs until her hands hit your upper thighs, and then she stops.  You don’t mean to, but you hold your breath, and you both blush bright pink as you slowly roll off of her and onto the floor.

‘Well.’  You scuffle your feet before shrugging.  ‘Let’s get to it, beauty queen,’ you smirk at her, and Elle smiles, a tiny little thing, as she pushes herself out of bed.

‘I don’t know how well this will go,’ she mutters, resting her chin on the top of your head.  ‘You’re literally the tiniest little Eastern European waif I’ve ever seen, my dude.’

‘Tiny? Fuck off, Elle.  I can still kick your diva ass.’

She looks at you incredulously, then just picks you up and slings you over her shoulder.  You shout and laugh and bang your hands on her back, but she just twirls you into your closet before dropping you onto your laundry pile.  ‘You were saying?’ she smirks at you, and you have only ever seen her this free and open on the stage.  So you don’t say anything, just roll your eyes and stand to find some clothes.


elle was right: the closet didn’t go well.  You are like maybe five-foot-three, and Elle is at least five-eleven, so your dresses looked like t-shirts, and your shirts looked like crop tops, and Elle looked very dejected.

‘Hey, zogu, no worries, we’ll just—’ and you scramble up and shout down the stairs.  ‘Dad!! I need to go shopping!’

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A cute lil’ barista!kurt besotted!blaine story inspired by this beautiful giftset.

It’s cold out. Blaine stuffs his blue-hued hands into his pockets as he shuffles through the thick New York snow at his feet, eyes peeking out from under a hat to scour his unfamiliar surroundings through a white wash of snow-filled air. Getting suddenly lost in a city so smothered in ice is easier than he first thought. His whole body is overcome with phantom warmth when Blaine catches sight of a coffee shop, windows glowing golden onto the white canvas of snow in front of it, and he jogs to it as best as he can on the slippery ground, numb fingers scrabbling with the door as he enters.

The glistening oak of the coffee shop is almost as inviting as its rich smell, and Blaine approaches the bar with a heavy relief, only to find it empty despite the shop teeming with humans hiding from the bitter cold. He spies a bell near his hand, and reaches forward to press it, but pauses when he sees a man in a barista uniform appear from the store room, swift and graceful and lithe and utterly, completely beautiful. Hair swooped into an almost comically tall quiff, with a smooth jaw and pearl-white skin and inquisitive, sea-washed eyes – that are staring right at him.

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