do i need to tag the others i mean you can barely see them

4

YOI Future!Verse ABO AU, Visual Headcanon Web Charts #01

So I always wanted to make one of these. Turns out my headcanons for the most part are WAY too wordy for these things and uh, they’re a bit of a mess >.>;; BUT I hope nonetheless that they’re somewhat fun to read even if barely legible, it was fun to make ^ ^;

1. Super basic relationship chart of the core members of the lovely poly family in this AU.

2. “Adults Think,” the color of each adult indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

3. “Kids Think,” the color of each OC kid indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

There’s obviously a lot more to it than what could be crammed in the lil text boxes, but a gist and pretty much the first things that immediately popped into my mind regarding their interactions. 2 and 3 also mostly show their thoughts while the kids are younger, which will change a bit as they grow up, to be covered in a future post.

*Recommended you right click view image to see full size bc the text is tiny oops

Because the text is so illegible, text only versions of charts 2 and 3 beneath cut, all elaborated quite a bit because I’m so rambly oops:

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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Keep reading

so i was thinking how much people seemed to overlook Lance listening to music in season 1 may or may not be because i always do the same and then this popped out. This takes place sometime during season two. (WC: 1208)


Keith lays down in bed, curling himself against Lance’s side, who is putting on Pidge’s headphones. He breathes in, relishing in the scent of pure Lance

They’re in “Lance’s” room, but in all honesty, it’s both of theirs. Their clothes are both here, they both sleep here, they both brush their teeth and shower here. It’s theirs, and that little word change has never made his heart flutter so often.

But there’s only one thing that Keith is really thinking about. The one thing he always thinks about before they go to bed.

“Hey, Lance?” says Keith, wrapping an arm around Lance’s bare waist.

Lance pauses mid-motion. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always wear those in bed?” asks Keith. He lifts his head, resting his chin on Lance’s chest to face him.

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Ball Chain & Satin

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: “Can you write a one shot where Bucky and Reader are getting married, but Bucky is scared. Angst or fluff, it’s up to you. Thanks!” Requested by Anonymous.

Word Count:1,391

Warnings: Language (probably)

A/N: I’m working on my requests, yay me! Oh boii, the fluff is strong :) Hope you’ll like it!

Originally posted by heartsandwheels

You were in front of the mirror, admiring your sleeveless satin wedding gown when someone knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Grabbing a fistful of satin, you gathered up the skirt of your gown and moved closer to the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and heard him shuffling around on the other side of the door.

“Buck, what are you doing here? We’re not supposed to see each other before the ceremony.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You’ll see me in an hour. Now, hush!”

Keep reading

5

Scott x Reader

Requested by Anon

Warnings: smutty themes


“What’s wrong with Scott.” You asked as you cornered Stiles, who was about to rush after the Alpha, who was storming through the school as if someone had angered him beyond reason.

“Urm, it’s complicated.” He muttered and Lydia glanced over Stiles’ shoulder.

“You can tell us Stiles, we might be able to help, he isn’t acting like himself.” She pointed out and Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath as he gave Scott one last glance.

“I think he might be in… heat?” Stiles muttered and your mouth dropped open until Lydia put her finger under your chin to close it.

“So, that’s why he threw Liam away from Malia this morning?” She asked and Stiles nodded. “And also, why he’s been avoiding (Y/N) … makes sense he’d be most drawn to the member of the pack who needs the most protection.”

“Hey!” You huffed and they both gave you a matching look.

“You are the weakest, you’re human.” Stiles pointed out.

“You’re also close with Scott but you’re close with other male werewolves, Liam, Brett, Derek and Isaac.” Lydia pointed out and Stiles took another turn.

“So basically, he’s probably finding it really difficult to be around you because he’s um… like I said possibly in heat.” Stiles muttered.

“That’s stupid, he’s a guy why would he be in heat.” You huffed.

“Reproducing would expand the pack faster, allows the Alpha to mark a mate without actually turning said mate into a werewolf and it’d give the alpha a chance to have some time with the betas and… strengthen their pack bond?” Lydia offered and you made a grossed-out noise.

“Rhetorical question Lydia, anyway I’ll just ask Scott what’s wrong and prove you both wrong.” You hummed.

“I don’t think you should.” Stiles muttered but you’d already ducked out of the corridor to where Scott had vanished.

“Scott?” You called and followed the low continues growl to a bathroom tucked away at the end of the corridor. “Scott, why’re you naked!” You squeaked and grabbed at his jeans, hoping if you handed them to him he’d get dressed as you tried not to look.

“I was too hot.” He mumbled roughly and moaned when you put a hand on his forehead.

“Maybe I should ask if I can give you a lift to the hospital… you can’t exactly ride your bike.” You mumbled, your eyes widening as he slowly slid your hand down his neck and across his stomach, letting you pull away before he could go any lower.

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Witchy things to do when you’re low on spoons

As a witch with a chronic illness that can leave me extremely low on energy for weeks at a time, I’m always looking for witchy things to do that won’t leave me exhausted. Even simple spells draw from your own energy pool so these are the things I do when my pool is running dry.


  • Cleansing -  Negative energy always builds up in my space during a bout of sickness, after a good cleansing of my outer I find my inner much more positive also. Here are some easy ways to cleanse

-Light some incense
-Fill a spray bottle with water (moon water would be handy for this), herbs of your choice (I usually use sage), and some salt. Then go around to each room and spray some into each corner
-Cleanse yourself by taking a bath or shower and using gorgeous smelling products
-Open a window and let the fresh air blow positive energy into your house

  • Sigils -  When I don’t have the energy for full-on spells/rituals I sit down and make some cute sigils. I try to make them specific to my situation, so when I am feeling especially down because of health issues I will make a sigil with the intent “My health does not affect my mental state” or something similar. You can also

 -Put a sigil on your pill bottles for a little boost (although magic is NOT a replacement for medicine and you should never completely rely on it for any health issues)
-Put a sigil on your heat bags/hot water bottle
-Draw them on your wrist
-Draw them at the bottom of your tea mugs with honey

  • Beauty Products -  Being stuck in bed feeling like death himself can make me feel, well, not awesome appearance wise. I found making myself feel nice on the outside can help my moral SO MUCH. I don’t mean you have to get up and put on a full face of make-up, but these little things can make a big difference

-Rosehip oil spray. It smells amazing, has many magical benefits including health and feeling calm and sensual, and is super refreshing with the added bonus of being rly good for your skin
-Scented lip balm for when your lips are feeling dry and sore eg I have pomegranate lip balm for when I want to make an offering to Persephone but have absolutely no energy. They come in sooo many flavors and scents, just pick which ones resonate with what you need!
-Perfume/essential oils. Just use a scent that corresponds with what you would like to do, like tea tree oil for health or lavender for relaxation. Also, smell pretty=feel pretty.

  • Prayers -  It can be hard keeping up appearances to the Gods when you have no energy so every night before bed, or generally whenever I feel like it, I say a little prayer. Of course if you are a secular witch you could just take some time to appreciate the things in nature/your life that makes it magical.
  • Tea -  It’s so nice having a soothing hot drink when your throat feels like a huge cluster of quartz has gotten stuck in there. There are so many posts out there about magical uses for tea but here is a couple 

-Adding herbs for intent
-Leaving a crystal in your mug overnight so your mug and tea is charged with intent
-Blowing away the steam and visualize blowing away negative energy

  • Get to know your crystals - Lets be honest, I have so many crystals I’ve forgotten what half of them are. I like taking them out and surrounding myself with them and then picking them up one by one and focusing on its energy to re-connect. This takes barely any of my energy as I can do it in bed, and makes me feel warm and fuzzy seeing all my pretties in front of me.
  • Read/Study - This is what I spend the majority of my time doing. There is ALWAYS more to learn about witchcraft and I can do it while lying down. There are so many free witchy book pdfs on tumblr as well, just remember not to believe everything you read.
  • Witchy Crafts - This one could take a little more spoons than the others, but it’s super gratifying. To find some things to do you can scroll through the tumblr tag “witch diy”. Some things I have done are 

-Sewed cute tarot bags to hold my cards
-Used thick cotton to make my own little necklace crystal holder
-Bought gemstone beads and made my own jewelry

  • Visualization - This is in my opinion the foundation of all spells and a lot of the time I don’t even use any other ingredients because that takes too much energy. I just focus on my intent and chant a little bit or sing and let the spell come to light all through visualizing it. I have charmed items, helped my plants grow and a lot more this way. I also like to visualize myself in a beautiful, flower-filled forest and feel the sun/moon pulling dark clouds of negative energy/illness out of my body to help when i’m feeling particularly unwell.

  • Meditation - My favorite spoonie witchy thing to do. It calms you, cleanses you, broadens your mind and senses and helps me personally deal with any pain caused by my illness. It can be done at any time and you really feel recharged afterwards. You can even light some candles, light some incense, sit outside under the moon, so many things.



So these are all I can think of right now, feel free to add on so we can all help each other out! Much love to every one of you 💕


-Auoria

Blowjob

Deadpool x Reader

Warnings: It’s fucking Deadpool. 

Summary: Your girl Nega hooks you up with Wade Wilson. 

Originally posted by my-daily-space

The bar was dingy as fuck.

Fuck it was downright biowaste, but it was the place your date picked. And now you were questioning the whole damn thing.

Cursing Nega under your breath for setting you up with her ‘friend’, you hustled into the bar and looked down at your phone. Quickly you texted the number of Wade Wilson, the man you had been talking to on and off for the last week and a half.

“I’m here.”

A second later, your cell buzzed. “Holy shit you’re way hotter in person. Fuck me.”

Another buzz. “Full disclosure, I have a boner.”

Another buzz. “Also my penis is big.”

Keep reading

Lately, I’ve been seeing something slightly bothersome around studyblr, and I just want to say something about it. Basically, there seems to be this attitude cropping up (or at least that I’ve seen/heard about more frequently these days) that your grades reflect your level of effort, or that by simply working hard and putting more effort in, your grades will automatically improve. I disagree.

Yes, there are certainly some cases where you’re already proficient in a class and if you just put in the extra time to study, you’d do better. But there are some classes where grades are not a measure of the level of effort you put in, and therein lies my biggest issue with the grading system and these types of studyblr posts in general. This was certainly the case with me in honors physics (so bear with me, because I have a very large point to make with the following anecdote).

Personally, I’ve always had “easy A” classes where I don’t have to work hard; my brain and academic strengths simply favor me in that particular subject, so with minimal effort I can still be top in the class. And then I see peers who go in for tutoring every day, who spend hours studying and meeting with teachers, who basically invest 100 times the effort I do… and still can’t get above a B or C.

This is not to mention people who take classes that are “reaches” and, accordingly, don’t do so well – even though they work hard – because it’s a challenge. Then there are those who take lower level classes but have capabilities beyond that – and don’t need to put effort in – thus giving them an unfairly easy A. Does their A mean that they work harder? That they’re a better student, studier, scholar, intellectual? Hell to the no.

English is one of those “easy A” classes for me. I’m just innately strong in verbal-linguistic intelligence (going off of Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences), so I’ve literally never had to study for English tests or reading comp/writing. But put me in other classes, particularly science classes? Well, that’s something else entirely.

Which brings me to junior year honors physics. 

Guys, I studied my ASS off, for hours at a time. I desperately Skyped people in my class nearly every night to try to understand the homework and spent every lunch block trying to master the material. I met with my physics teacher and tutor all the time and had a dozen anxiety attacks (and I mean actual, diagnosed anxiety attacks) over that one class because I tried harder than I’ve ever tried… and I got a B for the whole year. I was the one who dreaded seeing that red number scrawled on my test, who shoved it into my backpack before others could see and blinked back tears, thinking, But I studied so hard!

Physics was a nightmare I was desperate to forget by the end of junior year. But then a couple things happened that shocked me, and I instantly thought of them when I read some of these posts about good effort = good grades.

Now, my physics teacher, who has a reputation for being on the strict side and being a tough grader, has had four teaching assistants (TAs) in five years of teaching. Most science teachers at my school have as many as five a year. At the end of 11th grade, after I’d scraped by with a B in his class, he asked me if I wanted to be a TA. Out of the entire grade – out of the multitude of students I’d watched parade past with straight A’s and “that test was so easy” and “I barely studied” and “sorry Edye I don’t know how else to explain it to you” – he chose me.

I think I (very graciously) blurted out, “What? Why?” because I was so taken aback. He said that I was hardworking and dedicated – that I’d always gone above and beyond in my studying and meeting with him – and he wanted someone like me to be a TA. I was flattered, and I thoroughly enjoyed being a TA during senior year. (Also, anyone who doesn’t think he’s super nice is incredibly wrong. He’s awesome.)

Two years later, I got to read his college recommendation for me. Bear in mind that I was not, based on my grades, a top student in his class. And this is what he wrote for his opening line:

Honors Physics is a rigorous course that draws from the strongest students in the junior class and Edye proved to be one of those students.

What? He had seen my report card, right? I got worse grades than all of my friends. I got a goddamn 66 on a test in that class, my all time low. He continued:

One of the many examples of Edye’s commitment [is when she] had been ill and missed quite a bit of school and consequently had a lot of school work to make up in all of her classes.  Many students in this situation would take one or more classes pass / fail for the quarter; Edye would not take the pass/fail option and insisted she complete all the work and complete it with the grade she would earn.  She did in fact complete all of the work and with a B-.  A remarkable accomplishment considering she kept current with her studies while making up all of the missed work.

He called a B-minus “a remarkable accomplishment.” Did he say “too bad she didn’t put enough effort in, which was reflected in a B-minus” or “she only got a B-minus, so I guess she didn’t try hard enough”? No, he praised the amount of effort I put in, even though I didn’t even get a “good” grade.

I’m hardly one to knock putting in effort, but what bothers me is that this attitude, that effort = good grades, has the potential to make people feel bad. To feel like if they aren’t acing a class even though they’re studying harder than anybody else, well, they just aren’t trying hard enough. Yes, grades are important. So is effort. But they are not always directly correlated. As is evidenced by my story, sometimes people who get lower grades have worked even harder then those who got high grades. And, if they’re lucky, this will be acknowledged. (I can certainly attest that while I’ve been praised by English teachers for my writing skills and intellect, they’ve never singled me out for putting in an exceptional amount of effort. They know that while I’m proactive and responsible, I don’t try super hard because, well, I don’t really need to in order to get a good grade.)

Encourage other students to put in a reasonable amount of effort; recommend different study methods. But don’t tell them that good effort = good grades. Teach them to measure their success by looking at how productive they’re being, how proactive they are in reaching out for help, how dedicated they are to their education, how resilient they are in the face of obstacles, how committed they are to school. Admire those who refuse to take the easy way out, even if they only get a C. These qualities, which are far more important than a 4.0, just don’t always translate directly into good grades.

I dislike seeing this message all over Tumblr, that to get better grades you just have to try harder – which carries with it the implication that if you don’t get good grades, it’s because you aren’t putting enough effort in – when I know from firsthand experience that this is not always true. I strongly believe in trying to be the best student you can be, rather than trying to be in the top 5%. But in the end, do what works for you. Just take it with a grain of salt.

And to my followers, and anyone reading this… please know that, if you work hard regardless of your grades, you are already a model student, and you are absolutely someone I look up to.

Part 2 of Lachesism! Lance

Hey guys! Since everyone has been asking for a part 2 for my lachesism I decided to continue it (also you guys are too sweet seriously)! I hope you enjoy it :)

You can find that post here : Part One

You can check out some of my other mini fics here


There in the middle of the hangar, sat Lance surrounded by a hurricane of black that swirled faster with each passing second. His eyes were squeezed shut, not seeing the paladins, yet they all felt like he just knew. It was when he opened his eyes that all hell broke loose.

Lance’s eyes glowed a pale blue amidst the chaos of the black storm surrounding him. He almost seemed to stare at the team unseeingly, his eyes shining unnaturally. 

“Lance?” Shiro asked,”…What’s going on?” He didn’t reply, the only movement he made was the slow blink of his eyes. “Buddy, I need you to work with me ok? What is happening?” Shiro tried again, only to be greeted by silence. The team was beyond freaked out at this point, because where the Lance they knew? What was this, this thing in front of them?

“Lance you better knock it off! This isn’t funny man!” Hunk yelled, taking a step forward, “Let us help you!” 

Lance cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “Blue is someone here?”

If the team thought they were freaked out before, then damn, they were terrified right now. Lance’s voice was creepy, it was as if someone layered his voice a thousand times, each one seeming farther away than the one before it. 

“Can he not hear us?” Pidge whispered, her voice sounding smaller than usual. 

“Blue can you please tell Lance that we’re here to help?” Shiro asked, but the Blue Lion was not listening. Her eyes were fixed on Lance and Lance alone, who was now slowly standing up, the storm around him condensing to two black orbs that sat in each of his hands. 

“Whoever it is, can you please tell them to leave? I’ve almost got this part down! See,” Lance said, dispersing the two orbs into multiple orbs that circled his head,”I’m finally getting the hang of this thing!” The team stared at the menacing blackness that loomed over Lance, who seemed unaffected by the eerie energy it was giving off. 

“That’s it, the show is over,” Keith growled, stomping over to Lance determinedly.

“Keith no! We don’t know what’s going on!” Shiro shouted, reaching out for Keith, only to just miss him. He could only watch as Keith made his way to Lance and grabbed his arm. 

The movement above Lance’s head stopped as he turned to face Keith, his eyes still glowing that pale blue. 

“Snap out of it Lance! You need to tell us what’s going on!” Keith shouted, gripping Lance’s arm tighter. 

“Keith? W-what are you doing here?” Lance stuttered, his eyes going wide and his breath beginning to stiffen. “Blue? Why is he here?” He began to shake, the black orbs above him started to reform into a storm. “Y-you need to let go of me Keith. Y-you n-n-need to let go of me r-right now.”

“Like hell I am!” Keith yelled, “You need to let us help you Lance!”

He didn’t seem to be listening, his eyes gaining that unnatural glow to them once again. The hand touching Lance’s arm began to burn, causing Keith to let go briefly. The effect was already beginning, however, despite Keith letting go. Big fat tears welled up in his eyes and hole seemed to form in his chest, this aching feeling setting root within him. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m sorry Keith, I-I didn’t mean to give that to you, let me help ok? Let me just-” And just like that, the feeling was gone, contentment taking its place. Keith could only stare at Lance with his mouth open in shock. The glow began to dim from his eyes, returning them back to normal and the darkness practically vanished in moments. 

“How the hell did you just do that?!”

“Umm… what do you mean?” Lance asked, playing with his fingers. 

“What do I mean? How about the whole, my-emotions-just-went-from-fucking-depressed-to-sunshine-and-rainbows in two seconds??” Keith shouted, causing Lance to shrink into himself even more. 

“Um.. well you see-”

“Hold up, wait just a moment. What just happened. Like right now, in this moment, what is going on?? Because there was a huge storm above your head like a minute ago and now its gone??? You had glowing blue eyes and did something to Keith?? What is happenning?????” Hunk interrupted, stepping in between Lance and Keith. 

“Uhhh, well-”

“What the fucK?? Don’t give me that look Shiro, because I just watched some freaky shit happen. How did you even do that? When did you even start doing that? Could you always do that? What even is that? What-” Pidge rambled, gesturing around her as Lance refused to meet any of their eyes. 

“All right, how about we all give Lance some space ok? Let’s all go to the lounge and talk about this peacefully, alright?” Shiro intervened, going to place a hand on Lance’s shoulder before hesitating. “We’re going to need you to tell us what’s going on, ok Lance?”

Lance continued to stare at the floor, simply nodding before leaving the hangar. 


Lance was in a state a shock at the moment. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was, what idiot lets their biggest secret get discovered that easily? He barely even put up a fight and now here he was, sitting in the lounge, about to explain to the team how much of a screw up he was. He let out a sigh and stared at the empty couches in front of him. Maybe he could just take their anger away so they wouldn’t kick him off the team?

No, that would just prove he’s more pathetic than he already was. For once, Lance wished he couldn’t feel, that all these dark emotions would disappear like he had done for others in the past. 

“Lance can you explain to all of us what happened in the hangar?”

Explain? 

“Well umm… I was practicing,” Lance said, twiddling his fingers nervously.

“Practicing?” Allura questioned.

“Yeah I was practicing my…powers. Trying to make them stronger I guess.” He refused to meet anyones’ eyes, choosing to stare at his fingers instead.

“And what are these powers?” Shiro probed, leaning forward a bit,”What are you able to do?”

“I can, I can… control emotions. Not like that! Like I can take away emotions and kinda harvest them I guess? And replace the emotions I took away with different ones,” Lance clenched his fist, forcing himself to explain further to avoid having to look at his teamates, his friends. “I was trying to put them into a physical state, so I could use them in combat and just to get them out of me. I’ve never tested one of the orbs on someone, but I know if you were to touch one you’d feel all the emotion pent up in there.” He created a small one, reaching inside of himself for that energy that was always there, ignoring the slight gasp that came from Allura. Lance shrugged half-heartedly, “It’s something I’ve been able to do since I was fifteen.”

“Have you ever…took some of our emotions?” Hunk asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

“I uh…yes. I just, I couldn’t stand knowing you guys were upset and that I could do something about it. Everyday I could feel your emotions and I just felt so, so guilty that I wasn’t doing what I could to help!” Lance spit out bitterly, rubbing a hand through this hair. 

“Lance… you shouldn’t have done that. Those were our emotions and you shouldn’t just take them from us without even telling us!” Keith yelled, standing up, “You had no right to make that decision!”

Lance looked up at them all, his eyes beginning to glow once again. “What did you want me to do? J-just sit there and let you feel that pain, watch as it festered and boiled inside of you? How could I do that to a person, to my friends?” Lance clenched his fists, his eyes slowly turning to that pale blue color. “Why can’t you just let me feel useful for once?”


Part Three

7 times they noticed. (1/7)

(bc I need to make up for the langst I posted last night so here’s so comfort and a little bit of hurt. This is just Shiro’s, the other ones will be up soon. The only warning is a depiction of a panic attack.)


1. Lance winced as Shiro cut into him with words like he was expertly wielding Keith’s bayard. He would’ve found it funny how dad-like he was being, except: a) probably would cause Shiro to bail him out more, and b) it wasn’t very funny at all.

“Don’t you see how childish you’re being! This isn’t just serious, this is a matter of life or death, and your antics cannot get in the way. At the end of the day, do you want to be responsible for someone’s death?” The question sent a wave of nausea through Lance, and he was almost pulled off his feet by a wave of static that clouded his mind as something inside his chest burst. He grabbed his chest in alarm. His breathing was quickening. His chest was on fire. Oh god. Oh god. He curled inwards. Trying to protect himself.

“…” He tried to speak but no words came out, just harsh breaths as he lent against the wall, staring upwards through tears at Shiro who was frozen in fear.

“…Lance? Oh. Um… fuck.” If Lance was in any state of mind, he would have never let Shiro go for swearing in front of him, but as it was, it made Lance’s breath speed up. Shiro approached him like he would a possible hostile alien, slowly and with his hands outstretched. “Okay, Lance, if you can, put your arms around me and follow my breaths. Is that okay?” His voice was low and non-threatening, and in response Lance nodded slowly. His hands shaking as Shiro sat next to him, putting his hand on Lance’s arm. Shiro started taking audible, slow breaths. Lance winced as this effort made his breathing uneven, alternating from barely controlled slow breaths to shaky shallow ones.

“Thanks.” He choked out. Shiro shook his head.

“Don’t talk, just focus on the breathing.” Lance had enough humour to roll his eyes at him, and melodramatically breathed in and breathed out, causing Shiro to laugh, before his smile melted into a concerned frown.  “I’m so sorry Lance.”

“Don’t be. You’re right, of course.” Lance looked down, not willing to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Just because you were goofing off doesn’t mean I should have said that. It was way out of line. I just –” Shiro trailed off.

“I’m scared too.” Lance responded quietly. “I know. I know that this is a life-or-death thing, but I just can’t think about it. I’m not like you, or Keith, or Allura. I have to distract myself. If I think about for one second someone else dying on my account I just –” Lance’s breath started to quicken again, and Shiro stopped him, beginning the audible intakes and exhales of breath once more. Lance found his voice again. “You’re good at that. Unsurprisingly.”

“Well, thank Coran actually.” Shiro smiled as Lance scoffed. “No really, apparently they’re quite common for Alteans as well as humans. I still get them occasionally, but they were really bad when, you know…” Shiro trailed off before gathering his thoughts once more. “Listen. Are you alright?”

Lance laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course buddy, don’t worry about it.” He patted Shiro’s arm, got up from the ground and started to walk away when he felt Shiro’s metal arm on his shoulder.

“Really. We all deal with trauma differently, and I’m worried. These coping mechanisms are all fine and good until they start hurting you and other people.” Shiro was staring down at him and Lance shrunk under his worry. Of course Shiro was worried about the others.

“I’m really sorry I’ve been a pain.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a mockery of sheepishness. “I’ve been distracted but don’t worry, to quote our lord Efron, I’ll get my head in the game.” Shiro’s frown did not disappear. “Seriously, dude, don’t worry.” Lance smiled.

“Just, if you need to talk, please do. Whatever problems you have are important, not just for the team’s performance, but for your health as well. Okay? And if you can’t talk to me, talk to Hunk, or Pidge, or even Keith.” Shiro insisted, gesturing emphatically as Lance rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Lance’s face softened, his mask melting away.

“I’m just so scared. What if I never see my family again?” His already tear-filled eyes began brimming once more. “And I’m so scared that I’ll mess up everything, I mean, how the hell can I compare to you guys? Keith’s an amazing combatant, Coran and Allura are the best at strategies, you’re a great leader, Hunk’s an awesome engineer, and Pidge is just a genius!” Shiro stared at Lance as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.” He pulled his hands over his face. “God, and I’m supposed to be the leader.” Shiro straightened up, looking at Lance. “I can’t express how sorry I am. I forget, I suppose, that you’re children. But know we’re all terrified; and know that we couldn’t do it without you. Because your joking does help, Lance, it breaks the mood and reminds us why we’re fighting - for our humanity. You’re important.”

Lance stood in shock. He wiped the tears off his face.

“Gosh Shiro, you’re such an old man!” He started laughing.

Shiro crossed his arms and stared at Lance. His frown didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come on you youngin, we’ve got training to do.” He walked out of the room, shaking his head. Lance smiled. Maybe things were alright, even if he was just saying it to pacify him. Still. It counted.

perhaps.


Read the other parts:

(nb as of 6/4/17: Hunk is up (along with the Shiro and Pidge ones) others will follow! Edited to flow better, thanks to the anon who mentioned it.)

(nb as of 7/4/17: Coran is up!)

(17/4/17: Allura is posted!)

(this is platonic btw please do not tag as shance or anything similar.)

You Understand Right? (Part 2): What Happened?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Bobby Singer

Length: 1294+ words

TW: Suicide. Depression. Abandonment. Character Death. 

A/N: There was so much interest in continuing this fic! I am so glad you guys enjoyed it, and I really wasn’t expecting this to become a series! Feedback is encouraged!

MASTERLIST


“Dammit, Y/N! Don’t you dare hang up the phone! What the hell do you mean?!” Dean paced around his motel room, running his fingers through his hair continuously. They had just wrapped up a case in Nebraska, and was planning on visiting Bobby for some down time. Sam reminded his older brother that they haven’t seen Y/N in over several months, and he had been missing her.

“I understand, Dean,” she answered vaguely. Dean’s heart was thumping against his chest, as he tried to understand her message.

“What- What is it, sweetheart? What do you understand?” He started throwing clothes into his duffel bag, knocking on the bathroom door where Sam was currently showering.

“You and Sam need each other… But you don’t need me.” With that, she hung up.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Dean shouted into the phone, knowing that it would be futile. “Fuck.” He hung up his phone, and knocked louder against the bathroom door. “Sam! Get your ass out here.”

Sam opened the door with only his jeans, his face lined with annoyance. “The fuck Dean?”

“We’re leaving NOW!”

“What’s going on? Did you talk to Y/N?” Sam quickly put on his shirt, seeing the gravity of the situation in Dean’s eyes.

“Yea, but she kept saying things,” Dean answered vaguely, shaking his head as he continued to pack their stuff. 

“What did she say?”

“She kept saying how she understands- how she knows that we needed each other, but we don’t need her.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why makes her think that? She knows we love her.”

“I have a bad feeling about this, Sam. C’mon.”

Both brothers made their way to Bobby’s house with tension between them. The four-hour trip only lasting 3 hours with Dean’s driving. Nothing else had been said. Nothing else needed to be said. Not until they find Y/N, hopefully alive. 

Keep reading

Pretty

You and him had been friends for years.

Your mothers were best friends throughout high school and college, so naturally you were around each other from birth. You’d seen each other through the good and bad. You were inseparable. He was your best friend, your first kiss (at 12 years old, you both just wanted to see what it felt like and decided to use each other), your other half. Him and you. You and him. That’s the way it always was.

You were often teased by other friends about your closeness with him. Constantly affectionate with one another; kissing cheeks or hugging waists. You never questioned it. He was familiar, comfortable. That’s the way it always was.

He was always magnetic, it came naturally to him. People just gravitated towards him. He was consistently pulled to you instead. You watched as your crowd of friends cheered him on while he chugged a beer. He glanced around and met your eyes, seeing you sitting at the bar with a full drink. Excusing himself from the crowd, he made his way over to you.

“Oi, love! Wut’re ya doing? Supposed to be getting drunk with me, yeh?”

He’s grinning at you with his perfectly straight smile, eyes cloudy from alcohol while still bright just from their natural color. He was beautiful and that was never lost on you, often having moments of just admiring his beauty. This being one of those times.

You laugh at him. “Don’t think anyone can get as drunk as you are right now. How many in are you?”

“Not even drunk yet, love. I’ve only had 2 beers. I plan to have many, many more and I plan to have them with you.” Raising his hand to catch the bartender’s attention, he ordered another beer for himself. “What’s with ya tonight anyway? You a’right?”

Truthfully, you were just exhausted. Only tagging along on this night out because you couldn’t resist him and his persistent begging. You longed for your sweet, soft cotton bedsheets and 3 fluffy pillows.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Not all of us have massive energy like you.” you reply to him.

He laughs. “Not massive energy, just tryin’ to drink away my problems and what not”

The bartender sits his beer down in front of him. Muttering a thank you, he turns towards me more, “Care to join me?”

You look at him with confusion. What problems could he possibly have? You decide to ignore his comment, you catching the bartender’s attention this time. “Martini, please.”

He smiles at you once again, proud of himself for enticing you to down drinks with him. “There’s ma girl!” he says.

An hour later, it’s past 1AM, and you were both far from sober. Standing outside the bar, holding onto each other for support, you tried to catch a cab home.

“Stooooooop!” He yells at a passing taxi. Far too loud but far too drunk to care. “Neva’ gonna stop for us, love.”

“Wanna just walk? I mean, my apartment is like 3 blocks from here.” You say. You’ve never been one to wait and the cold night air wasn’t helping the waiting situation.

“Sure, let’s gooooooo!” He yells again, grabbing onto your shoulder for leverage.

Him staying in your apartment was never a weird thing. He slept there often, almost more than he did as his own apartment. He even his own side of your bed.

Stumbling into the door, he throws his shoes off by the coffee tables and dives onto the couch. You chuckle at him and heads towards the kitchen for two bottled waters.

“Here drink this, you’ll need it in the morning.” handing him the bottle. He looks up at you with red, squinty eyes and says “What an angel you are.”

You roll your eyes, opening your own bottle to down the cold liquid. “What can I say?”

Suddenly he sits up, looking at you with the tiniest smile. “You look pretty.” reaching over to touch your cheek, “H’ve yeh always been this pretty?” his words slurring together.

You laugh. “Well, I have always had this face.” Without thinking, you lean into his touch. His hand moving more towards the nape of your neck. “Pretty much stuck with it.”

“It’s a nice face, I quite like it.” He trails his other hand down the bridge of your nose. “Like ya lips too. Always ‘ave.” His fingertips running over your cupid’s bow.

You stare at him, observing his actions. “Is that so?”

“D’ya remember when we were 12 and we kissed each other in my room?” He lets out a snort, “Tried to be sneaky because our mothers were just downstairs.”

You remember the memory quite well, it being one of your favorites. You were both so nervous but he did everything he could to make your nerves go away, cracking a joke before it happened to make you laugh. “I remember…”

“Don’t have to be sneaky now, do we?” His fingers now running along the length of your collarbone. Touching you so lightly, you could barely feel it. “We can kiss all we want, can’t we?”

“You are so drunk.” nervously laughing, you pull his hands away from your neck. “Don’t even know what you’re saying”

“I know exactly what i’m saying, love.” He now replaces his hands with his lips. The feeling of them, igniting something in you you’ve never felt before. “Know exactly what i’m thinking too.”

Scared of what his answer may be, you cautiously ask, “What are you thinking?”

Looking you dead on in the eyes, he answers with, “Thinking of how i’d love to make you cum, love.”

Choking on noise in your throat, you look away from his eyes. What is happening? What is going on right now?, you think. This can’t be happening.

You quickly realize that it is in fact happening when he grabs you by the nape of your neck once again and lightly brushes his soft lips against yours. “Let me kiss ya, please…..been dying to all night long.”

Had he really? Your best friend had been thinking about kissing you all night long?

You simply nod your head and his smooth lips are against yours in no time. His lips moving slow, taking his time. You move your hands into his soft hair, tugging a bit as he deepens the kiss.

“So pretty, love…..so, so pretty.” He says after pulling back for air. “Gonna let me kiss you all over? Make you feel good? Make you feel pretty?” His hands running across your chest in a silent plea for permission.

“God, yes. Yes. Make me feel pretty.” He moves his lips to your neck, while his hands lower to your belt buckle. Unraveling it from your belt loops, he pops the front button open, slipping his warm fingers into the band of your underwear.

“So wet already, ‘aven’t even touched ya yet.” You barely have time to be embarrassed before you feel his fingers on your most intimate place. Your best friend. With his fingers in your jeans.

“Don’t tease me, please.” You whine, desperate for him to touch you more. He grants your request, slipping a finger in, pumping slowly enough that you feel the ridges in his middle finger.

You moan. “Thought you were gonna kiss me?” He looks at you with a smug smile, adding another finger as he replies, “Where do ya want me to kiss? Tell me.”

Known for being teasing in general, you don’t know why you didn’t think he would enjoy being a tease in the bedroom. “You know where I want you to kiss me.”

He kisses your cheek. “Here?” He moves to kiss your lips. “Or here?” Moving down to your stomach, “Oh, I know. Right here?”

Bucking your hips towards his mouth, he places a kiss on your clothed center. Earning a moan, he looks up from between your thighs, “That’s the spot, innit?”

“Yessss” you moan, unable to hold it in. “Kiss me there, please.”

“Anything for you.” he says, pulling your dark jeans from your legs, your underwear long with it. He places your foot on his shoulder, kissing the inside of you thigh.

He takes a light lick at first, making you clench. The tip of his tongue giving attention to your sensitive folds, before lowering his head and attached his lips to your nub.

“Shiiiit” you moan once more, giving up at holding them in at this point. “That feels so good.”

He adds his finger back into the mix. Your muscles clenching at the feeling of such pleasure. You were close and he had barely started.

“You taste so good, wanna stay down here for days.” You meet his eyes, and you remind yourself to take a mental image of this moment for future references. He looks beautiful, he looks comfortable, he looks at home between your two thighs.

His finger speeding up, and his mouth attaching to your most sensitive area. You feel the familiar burn in your stomach approaching. “Fuck i’m gonna c-cum, oh my god.”

Sucking even harder against you, he spurs you on, “Come on, give it to me. Cum for me, beautiful.”

You eyes roll back in your head, your ears suddenly going deaf. You can’t hear him, all you can feel is the hard wave of your ecstasy crashing over you.

You feel him pet your forehead as you wind down from your high. Feeling his sweet kisses against your cheek. “Was I pretty?” you ask, grinning lightly.

“Fucking beautiful when you cum, love.” He says, grinning back. “So fucking pretty.”

You're my best friend

I just got my hair cut and I’m feeling overly emotional, and I don’t know how these two things relate, but here have some sterek.

They have been together for a while now. They just got their first apartment together, and saying that both of them were high on love (for each other) and hope (for a new happy life) would be quite the understatement.

There had been a time when either of them had thought that they could never have the other, that after Derek left they would never find each other again, and they had never even thought possible that one day they could have a place, a home together. And yet, here they were.

They just finished mounting their new bed, and Stiles falls on the bare mattress with a satisfied “oof” Derek following shortly after him.

And it’s then that somehow it hits Stiles. It hits him so hard and so suddenly that he’s so overwhelmed with it that his eyes burn and he wants to yell it at the top of his lungs, but at the same time the emotion is so strong that clogs up his throat, and he can barely manage to speak.

So, he just makes a small noise (all he can muster right now) and rolls over to Derek’s side, throwing one arm over Derek’s body and burying his face into Derek’s neck.

Derek huffs out a surprised laugh, but promptly starts rubbing his back soothingly.

“Derek,” Stiles mumbles, when he finds his voice again.

Derek hums questioningly and Stiles hugs him close, a little bit tighter, before he gets out of his hiding spot and looks up at his boyfriend.

“You’re my best friend.” He says, all intense, earnest and sincere eyes.

Because it’s true. Yes, Scott is the friend he knew longer, they had their high and lows and highs again, and he’s like a brother, but that’s just it, Scott is his brother.

Derek is his best friend.

Derek is the person that he thinks about first when he’s thought of a stupid joke and wants to share it with someone. Derek is the one he looks for when he wants to tell someone about what his favourite character is going through, even if it’s a show or a book that Derek hasn’t watched yet. Derek is the name on his lips when he wants to tell or show someone how he managed to do something, even if it’s just as ordinary and banal as Stiles managing to doodle a real-looking wolf shadow, he knows that even if his first reaction would be to roll his eyes, he’d do so smiling in that warm way that always tell Stiles so many things. Like how loved he is, and how Derek is proud of him, even for the little things. And Derek is the one that he glances up to look at before he even knows why.

And that’s why he hates fighting with him so much, because he’s fighting with his boyfriend and best friend. And really, there’s no one in his life that can match with everything that Derek means to him. Derek is his special person, everyone has their special person, don’t they?

And Derek is Stiles’ person.

And yes, Derek is his boyfriend, and they had already said their ‘I love you’s to each other a long time ago, but Derek is also, and maybe most importantly, Stiles’ best friend too, and Stiles really needs him to know that.

“You’re my best friend,” he repeats, because he needs him to understand.

And of course, because Derek is his everything plus his best friend, smiles small and understanding, before he leans down to kiss him on the corner of his mouth, feather-light and all softness, and whispers “you’re my best friend, too.”

And Stiles knows that Derek understands, because he can see in his eyes that Stiles is his person too.

Keep reading

Malec Goodies Part 2

As always, if you know the author and want to give me a hand, please tag them :)

Never Better by satonawall

Three times Alec offers to give Magnus a backrub + one time Magnus asks for one.

No matter what by @hufflebee

Alec often thought about kissing Magnus.

Whenever Magnus would casually touch him, a hand of his arm, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, Alec would be overcome with warmth, feeling each touch throughout his entire body. Each touch left him wondering how his body would even contain him if Magnus ever kissed him.

And whenever Alec thought about this, his mind barely registered the world around him, barely aware of anything existing but Magnus. Which was a wonderful thing, a beautiful world to have his mind focused on, a world consisting of only Magnus.

Still, their English teacher didn’t really appreciate it.

Now and Forever by EmilyRLightwood

Magnus and Alec like to get down and dirty, but they are also totally soft for each other, even in the throes of passion.

Nulla Salus Bello by Nia_dAstarte

Long after Magnus is back in his own body, long after he goes again suavely about his business as High Warlock of Brooklyn, he still wonders what Alec was thinking. Coda to 2x11.

Oblivion by  @heartsalmighty

Alec stood up, keeping a careful distance and being sure to move slowly as he approached. “Magnus, I am so sorry. For everything you had to go through.”

Magnus’ eyes never moved from the spot on the floor he was staring at. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That agony rune…” He paused, taking a moment to swallow. His face was drawn in so much pain that Alec had to look away for a moment. He immediately punished himself by digging his fingernails into his palm. It was selfish to worry about his pain. He had certainly inflicted more than enough on Magnus that he had to atone for. “Made me remember things that I spent…centuries trying to forget.”

Off Duty by KouriArashi 

“I’m talking about an actual day off,” Magnus says, and Alec’s blank expression doesn’t change. “Off duty. If something goes wrong, they call someone who isn’t you.”

“That’s … not really a thing that the Head of an Institute gets,” Alec says.

One Easy Answer by @ameliacgormley

Magnus warned Alec he wouldn’t ask again.

And he didn’t.

Alec called off his wedding, but the next day walked in on Magnus with Camille and hasn’t spoken to Magnus since.

Now, months later, relations between the Shadowhunters and the Downworld are growing increasingly turbulent as the Downworld blames Jace for Valentine’s massacre of dozens of Downworlders.

It’s up to Alec, as Head of the New York Institute, to forge a peace that could save thousands of Downworlder and Shadowhunter lives—even if it means re-evaluating everything he once thought mattered.

Our Battles Choose Us by @thepinescentedair

Alec shakes his head and rubs his palm over the white scar of the faded deflect rune permanently inscribed on the left side of his neck. He wishes he had his stele or his bow or even his sword. Anything would be better than facing an unknown foe nearly weaponless and certainly powerless. He wishes a lot of things. “Keep your head and don’t get cocky, Izzy. We stick together, remember?”

Isabelle nods and stares at the door, weapon hanging loosely from her hand at her side. “You and me against the world, Alec.”


Or, after the Downworlders rise up against the Shadowhunters, the United States is quarantined off. Downworlders capture Shadowhunters and force them to fight in arenas for entertainment. Alec and Isabelle do their best to stay alive in the ring despite everything that has happened in the year since they were captured, but what happens when they try to escape?

Please, believe me by @katychan666

After swapping bodies, Magnus needs to make Alec believe that he isn’t really Valentine. Alec needs a bit of a push, but after hearing him out, he’s prepared to believe him.

Please, tell me what I can do by Shipper_Soprano

Aftermath of 2x12 “You Are Not Your Own”

Public display by @simonlewhiss

He’s going to cuddle with his boyfriend if he wants to, because he just put his body through hell for these people. They can tolerate seeing Magnus’ fingers in his hair.

Rainy Morning or the One Where Magnus Checks Alec’s Phone by @mfika

“Alec sat up quickly, keeping Magnus in his lap as he closed his fingers around Magnus’ wrists, kissing his fingers in a lame attempt to hide the embarrassed blush that covered his cheeks. At that, Magnus relaxed. No, Alec wasn’t faltering in his trust, he was just embarrassed by something and Magnus was now making it his mission to find out what that /something/ was. “Alexander, you screeched. That’s highly unlike you,” he grinned, amused.”

Ruin Me (Gently) by @thesorrowoflizards

It involves spells gone wrong, smutty smut, and a second virginity.

Keep reading

The right thing

(A/N): I’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to, I really hope you like it!

Request: ok, i’ve thought about it long and hard (not really) and i think i’d like an old man logan request, if you even do that, lol. he sees me on the side of the road in the freezing canadian cold, and decides to do the right thing and drive me to wherever he resides, but he’s a bit hesitant on getting acquainted at first, being the grumpy old coot he is. then, at his place, after getting comfy, we both decide that we might get along and i fall asleep. ya know, just some fluffy shturf. ;3

Warnings: none?

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @rainbeauxbread


Originally posted by dailymarvelheroes

   Logan gripped the wheel of his car so tightly that his knuckle were white. He could feel the thrum of the engine running through his fingers, into the Adamantium of his bones. 

   The snow outside his window blurred everything in sight, making it nearly impossible to drive and yet he was doing it. With a sigh he reaches over and grabs a cigar, lighting it quickly before taking a long drag from it and that’s when it caught his eye, a long figure standing on the side of the road but before he could even stop to think about his car had passed by them, the snow quickly obscuring their form.

    Logan blinked, attempting to convince himself that what he saw he did not see, there was no way someone was out here in the frigid cold. Rolling his shoulders back he kept on driving but a certain nagging feeling told him to turn around, check it out just to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

  “Damn it,” He mutters through his cigar as he swerves the car around, driving most likely into traffic (if there was any). His eyes thoroughly scanned the the sidewalk, searching for the figure. His gaze locks on the same long figure, standing on the side of the road shivering madly. With not so great parking skills Logan pulls up to the snowy bank, hoping out of his car as soon as he turned the engine off. 

   “Any reason you’re out here in the cold kid?” He asks through his cigar, his voice only a tiny bit muffled. The being turns to look at him, their eyes downcast as they rub at their arm, most likely trying to get some feeling back in them. 

   “I’m waiting,” 

   “What for?” 

   “Someone,” The figure mutters, sniffling a bit. Logan sighs, stuffing his hands into his pocket. 

   “You’re gonna freeze out here,” 

   “Good.” Logan looks at them through squinted eyes, little puffs of smoke billowing from his mouth. 

   “Get in the car,” He mutters, giving them no room to argue. 

   “What?” The figure looks up, looking at Logan incredulously. 

   “I said get in the car, I don’t want you freezing to death,” 

   “Why do you care?”

   “Believe it or not the idea of some kid freezing to death on the side of the road isn’t really a pleasant one, now get in the car,” 

   “How do I know you’re not gonna rape me or something?” Logan looks nearly offended at their words, how dare they accuse him of such a thing? Wrinkling his nose in disgust he turns away, reaching up to grab his cigar. 

   “I’m not gonna hurt ya but if you don’t want to tag along I’ll let you die out here,” Logan walks to his car, ignoring his gut feeling telling him to turn around and demand that however this was get in with him. He took a few steps towards the car, reaching for his keys when he stopped- the figure speaking up finally. 

   “Where are you going to take me?” Logan smiles just a bit, turning to cast the figure with a side glance. “I know a place for you,” The figure nods numbly as they skirt around Logan’s car, violently shivering as they walked towards the passenger door. 

   Logan gave them a good long look, staring at their frozen eyelashes and nearly purple lips; how long had this kid been out here? Shaking off his worry Logan unlocked the car, hoping in and starting the ignition. The figure sighed in relief as they placed their hands to the barely working AC vents which at the moment were spitting out little bits of heat. Logan eyed them once more, the permanent goosebumps on their skin, the way their nails were nearly black from the cold. 

  “Shit kid,” Logan muttered as he took of his coat, thrusting into the figure’s lap. “Put that on, you’re gonna freeze if you don’t,” The figure shakily slips the jacket on, pulling it around their body tightly. 

   “Please tell me wherever we’re going is warmer than this?” Logan starts up the car, not even looking behind him or ahead of him as he turned around once again. 

   “Yeah…yeah it is,” Logan rubs a hand down his face, stopping just above his lips. With an exasperated sigh he plucked out his cigar and smashed it into his ashtray, letting out the last few puffs of smoke from his mouth. “You got a name kid?” The figure shivers, nodding their head as they do. 

   “It’s (Y/N),” Logan nods his head, casting (Y/N) a side glance. 

   “Well (Y/N), I’m Logan,”


   “Just take the goddamn blanket (Y/N),” Logan muttered as he thrust another blanket at the still shivering kid on his couch. 

   “Logan, I already have like,” (Y/N) pauses to count the amount of layers they were wearing, excluding one of Logan’s flannels since the outfit they had been previously wearing was tainted by the cold snow. “4 blankets,” 

   “You need another one,” 

   “Logan-” 

   “(Y/N).” Logan growls, shoving the blanket towards them again. (Y/N) grumbles as they take the blanket, wrapping it around their other layers securely. With a pleased sigh Logan slumps down onto the couch, a few feet away from (Y/N). 

   “So, this is where you live?” 

  “Yeah,” Logan rasps, looking at his makeshift little home. “It’s the best I’ve got right now,” (Y/N) nods, humming as they look around. 

   “It’s…quaint?” Logan chuckles, sliding a hand down his exhausted face. 

  “You don’t have to lie to me kid, I know it’s bad,” (Y/N) smiles softly, chuckling just a bit. 

   “Okay, yeah, it’s bad,” Logan smiles, blinking lazily at his home. “Why is this…why is this the best you can afford?” 

   “It’s not easy to get a nice home when you’re being hunted,” (Y/N) looks at him, alarm flashing through their features. 

   “Wh-What do you mean?” (Y/N) asks, quivering for other reasons now. 

   “You ever heard of mutants?” (Y/N) nods their head, their gaze never leaving Logan once. “Well, we’re kinda going extinct, I’m one of the last ones,” Logan mutters, looking over his scarred hands indifferently. 

   “I uh- I don’t think you’re one of the last ones,” (Y/N) whispers, their gaze falling to their lap. 

  “Kid, I’m pretty damn sure I know that I’m one of the last ones-” Logan pauses when he looks around, a good chunk of his home items floating in the air, suspended their by some force. He looks to (Y/N) with a rather surprised gaze, his eyes glued to the way they titled their head, the objects in the room mocking the same power. “You’re one of us,” Logan mutters, his tone a lot softer than it had previously been. Slowly all the objects in the room float back down, settling into their respective places neatly. 

   “I was on the side of the road because I was running,” (Y/N) whispers, pulling their blankets around themself tighter. “Guess we’re kinda in the same boat,” Logan nods, pursing his lips in thought. 

  “I’ll be damned, I guess we are,” (Y/N) smiles a bit, one corner of their mouth twitching upwards just a bit. 

   “So…what do we do from here?” 

   “You’re gonna warm up and sleep, god knows you need it-” 

   “And then?” 

   “And then we’ll lay low, figure everything out as we go,” (Y/N) nods, their own lips pursing in thought. “But for now you definitely need some sleep,” (Y/N) nods, yawning at Logan’s words. They hadn’t realized just how tired they were until Logan had mentioned it. Now that he had they could barely keep their eyes open, every so often their eyes would flutter close only to flutter back open. (Y/N) tilts themself to the side, resting their head against Logan’s shoulder. They yawn again, closing their eyes for good now as they settle in against him, his warmth only adding to their slowly reviving limbs. 

   “G’night Logan,” (Y/N) whispers, ignoring the way Logan tensed under their touch. Logan looks at them for a minute before hesitantly reaching out to brush some hair out of their face, a small albeit affectionate gesture. Logan had only known this kid for a day and his mama bear genes were already kicking in, making him vow to protect this life with everything he had, almost what he felt with Rouge and Laura. With a soft, almost alien like smile Logan settled into the couch, making sure (Y/N) stayed tucked against his side either way. 

   “Good night (Y/N),” 

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twelve

Summary: You fly out for Asylum and meet up with the rest of the cast, only to find out that you have to do your first ever solo panel in front of two thousand fans
Words: 4.4k (+ tweets)
Jared x Reader x Gen, Misha, Kim, Briana, Danneel, Jensen, JJ
Warnings: smut-ish phone calls, mild angst, fluff
Beta: @blacksiren

IKYW Masterpost

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Your name: submit What is this?

In-flight wifi was a God sent gift on the flight to London.

Despite appearing calm and feeling tired, you couldn’t get to sleep for the first few hours due to anxious energy.

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Dress (Sugar daddy!Calum smut)

Summary: You wear a dress guaranteed to send Calum up the wall (okay pls I can’t do summaries but it’s sugar daddy and they fuck and ahhHH hot stuff!)

Word Count: 4.8k (SO LONG OH MY GOD)

Warnings: There’s three sections of smut! Yes, three! Also daddy kink and bondage ;)

A/N: Jfc you have no idea how much effort I’ve put into this! I really hope you like it, I think it’s pretty good, if I do say so myself <3

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

For my CEO!5sos blurb night with @felicityash and @pretendtobepunkrock!

Crisp shirts. Sparkling cufflinks. Neat sheets. 

Just some of the many things that spring to mind when you think of him. 

Calum Hood, CEO of Hood Incorporations, hasn’t left your mind ever since you met to discuss a partnership deal. Your father owns a business similar to Calum’s and you, his devoted daughter, handle some of the more day-to-day tasks, including meeting with the extremely attractive business partner.

From the start you knew Calum was different. Maybe it was the elegance in which he operated, the silky smoothness embedded in his voice. 

Or, perhaps, it was the fact that he’d had you spread across his desk within ten minutes of your first encounter. 

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Friends Part 5

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1555

Warnings: Talk about death (Pietro’s), fluffly, sadness and a make out session that your mother woudnt be happy about.

Thank you @amrita31199 you are amazing.

credits to the gif owners

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Instead of going outside to cheek the noise, you go upstairs to Wanda’s room have never been particularly good in at dealing with conflicts, and whatever was happening between Dan and Bucky downstairs was a conflict.

‘What are you doing here?” You ask Wanda when you see that she is in her room instead of downstairs enjoying her party “I could ask you the same thing, this is my room after all.” You close the door, sitting by her side on the floor “Yes it is, but I asked you first.”

“I miss Pietro, this party is everything he would ever want but he is not here to enjoy. Now you, why are hiding?” She says taking a deep breath as she leans on your shoulder “Why did you invite Dan?” You ask her instead of answering her question, you are not angry at her you just want to know why she was meddling into this.

“You are not gonna like the answer but we have been friends for two years and I never felt that you liked anyone of your past dates ,it has always been Bucky on your mind. But the day you came back from your date with Dan, I could see that you liked the guy and you need to give this relationship with Dan a chance… a real one.”

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That One Dreadful Call

Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 974

Warnings: ANGST (which isn’t a shocker with me anymore) 

A/N: Here’s your Daddy!Jensen angst!!! I hope you all enjoy it…there may be a part two or I may just be a bitch and leave it like this lol anyways thanks to @mamapeterson for the beta and feedback is gratefully appreciated!!!

Jensen couldn’t stop smiling. While waiting for the set to be prepared again he started thinking about you and your four year old daughter who looked exactly like you, but had his eyes. He had everything he could have ever wanted and more. Ever since marrying you, you had truly made him a better man and he could never stop showing you how much he appreciates and loves you. Last night was one of those nights, after Olivia fell asleep, you were all his and everything was completely perfect. Jensen actually felt himself starting to blush as he started thinking about last night in such a public place. He was brought out of his thoughts by the directors booming voice, rubbed the back of his neck, and made his way back to his marker.

Many takes later it was finally lunch time and also around the same time you would pick Olivia up from pre-K. Which would result in him getting a FaceTime call of the two of you as you drove back home. All throughout lunch Jensen was constantly checking his phone, so much that Jared noticed, “Hey man, she probably just forgot or got busy with the teacher or something. Don’t sweat it.”

“Do you think I should call just to be sure?”

Jared shook his head, “Nah, I’m telling you everything is fine.

“But she always calls, this isn’t just something she would all of a sudden forget to do.”

“I know, which is why I’m saying something else must have come up to where she couldn’t FaceTime you.” Jared’s head lifted when he heard the director’s voice once again. Slapping the side of Jensen’s arm he gave him a reassuring smile, “Come on, back to work we go.”

Jensen gave a nod of his head as he stuffed his cell phone back into his pocket, he’d find out why he didn’t get his call when he got home tonight. Jared was probably right, it was most likely nothing and Jensen was just overreacting. But then again if you did have something else to do…why didn’t you just send him a quick text? He shook his head and brushed it off as he walked back onto set, immediately transforming into Dean Winchester.


Jensen went about the rest of his day without a single call or message from you still. Now he was really starting to get worried. He moved you here to Vancouver with him so he could always be with you and never miss a moment of Olivia growing up. Even though he was about an hour away you still talked to him like you still lived in Austin, he was your best friend and you were his. So to go all day without hearing anything from you…really made him nervous.

It was at the beginning of the final scene, one more hour till he got to go home, when his phone finally rang. The director wasn’t all that happ,y but Jensen answered it anyways, waving off the director, “Y/N, babe, why haven’t you called me all day? Is something wrong?”

Jensen heard sniffling along with little whimpers and his brow scrunched together, that wasn’t you, “Olivia? Baby girl, where’s mommy?”

She whimpered one last time before Jensen heard someone else whispering to her, “Olivia, is that mommy? Can you hand her the phone?” This was when Jensen really started to panic and he wasn’t sure what was going on. He felt Jared’s hand on his shoulder with a questioning look but he just gave him the ‘hold on’ finger.

“D-Daddy…t-the mean man t-told me dat m-mommy can’t t-talk right now…dat y-you gotta find us. C-Come find us daddy…I-I scared….” He heard her starting to cry again as she pleaded for him to help her. His heart dropped, his stomach twisted into a knot, and he could feel his throat starting to close up. His little girl was calling out to him to help her and save her and he had no idea where you or her even were.

“Liv…tell me who has you and daddy will be right there!” He waited barely a second and he didn’t hear her voice or her whimpers anymore. “Liv! Olivia!” Jensen shut his eyes and some tears escaped just as another voice spoke through the phone.

“Jensen! Hey buddy, how’s it hanging?!”

“J-James?” That’s all Jared needed to hear and he pulled away from Jensen and started to call the police on his cell phone.

Jensen heard this blood curdling laugh on the other end, “You sound so surprised! I told you that you’d be seeing me again! Looks like someone didn’t believe me!” James said in a sing song taunting tone that made Jensen shudder..  

“You tell me where you have them and we can settle this right now. James, you give me back my family!” Jensen’s voice broke as his knees gave out. “Please. I’ll give you anything you want, just give me my family back.”

“Ya know…as tempting as that is…and let me tell ya, having you offer up anything that I want is really really tempting…I’m gonna have to pass. We haven’t had our fun just yet! Toodles Jay!” James started laughing again and Jensen couldn’t stop the furious tears as he heard those last two words and then there was nothing at all except for the cruel dial tone heckling him. Jensen screamed and then threw his fist into the ground not caring about the pain that just erupted throughout his arm. Jared rushed over and slung an arm around Jensen’s shoulders, pulling his friend into his body as Jensen gave in and cried.

“We’ll get ‘em back Jay…we’ll get ‘em back,” Jared promised, waving away several people that had come over, asking what was happening.

Part 2

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xxcuriouserandcuriouserxx  asked:

Hey do you have any tips for someone starting out as a fan fiction writer?

I don’t know if those will be relevant or helpful at all, but here we go:


  • Write for yourself.

This will always be my number one advice.

When you write, you put a piece of yourself out there. And yourself cannot please everyone. There’s a reason why I say I write because I can’t afford a therapist and it’s right there. You write for yourself first and foremost, because you enjoy it, because it allows you to escape, or to express something. Writing is incredibly personal, so don’t let others influence you too much.

Don’t write for the hits, the kudos or the comments. Write for yourself.

  • Learn how to write a summary.

Ok. That’s highly hypocritical of me because writing a summary is my ultimate weakness. I’m terrible at them. What I usually do is pick out a few sentences that are enough to pique the reader’s interest without revealing too much of the intrigue.

Don’t write “I’m terrible at summaries, the story is better” or something like that. Don’t ask for kudos and comments in your summary. It puts people off.

  • Check, double-check and triple-check.

There is no best way to make me click on the back button than a story full of grammatical mistakes. English is a rich enough language that you can try to play with it and bound the rules a little, but knowing the difference between “you’re” and “your” is a must, even for the most unconventional writers.

Same for the tense: it’s either past tense or present tense, not both.

Dialogue must be clear. Two rules: your reader needs to know who said what to whom and only one speaker by paragraph.

If you’re not sure about something, don’t be afraid to ask and if you can’t ask, Google is your friend. And use a spell checker.

If you can get yourself a beta, it’s even better!

Your writing will never be 100% mistake-proof but there are some mistakes more easily forgivable than others.

  • Respect the original characters.

In fanfiction, you are working with characters who already exist beyond yourself. They already have existent traits that make them who they are and that are a big part of why people love them so much. Of course, you can play with them, you can add a few of your own, but try to stay true to the original character.

People read fanfiction because of the original work, rarely because they stumbled onto it hazardously. They are here for the characters. They will stick around if you write them respectfully.

And please, do not change canon queer characters’ sexuality. 

  • Tag properly.

If there’s a major character death, tag Major Character Death. If there’s anything whatsoever that could trigger someone, fucking tag it.

Otherwise, you are very free in your choice of tags (my tags are all over the place, let’s be real) but try to at least use some that would catch a potential reader’s attention.

Don’t spoil your story in the tags, though.

  • Have a plot.

Have at least a few scenes and the main intrigue outlined before you start writing.

It’s always better to begin with the end in mind. It makes for a more compelling and coherent plot.

  • Choose a point of view and stick to it.

There is nothing more confusing than a scene written with two, or more, different points of view.

If you choose to go with one character’s POV, stick to it until the end of the scene and don’t switch randomly unless your new point of view brings something to the plot, a new perspective or an insight into a character’s mindset. Even then, do not change back. Finish the scene with that character, not the first one.

  • Do your research.

For the love of Magnus Babe, if you’re writing about a sensitive subject or something you know nothing about, if you’re writing smut (especially gay sex) for the first time, if your character gets badly injured and you’re not a damn doctor yourself, even if you’re writing about a country you’ve never been to: do your research.

  • If writer’s block hits, take a break.

It will happen. It’s frustrating and we all hate it, but it will happen.

Don’t try to force yourself to write then. Take a break. Go for a walk. Listen to some music. Re-read something else you’ve written or something by someone else that you really loved. Write something random, about your day, about something entirely different from the story you’re working on. Eat something you love. Just keep your mind off of it for a while.

If inspiration doesn’t come back, skip that paragraph and go back to it later.

  • Interact with your readers.

Reply to comments, DMs, asks on tumblr, etc. Whether you have 2, 20, 200 or 17000, acknowledge your readers. They’re the reason why we do what we do, and we owe them a lot.

  • Try to update regularly.

This is a complicated one, and I’m the first one to forget about that rule.

The chance that I have is that I now have an audience that follows me from story to story and that is willing to bare with my fucked-up updating schedule. 

You won’t have that chance when you’re just starting, so a good way to secure an audience and keep them interested in your story is to update regularly. It’s hard, but if you’ve got a few chapters written in advance before you start posting, it’s manageable.

  • Just start writing

Don’t overthink it.

Don’t try to come up with the most complicated plot. Just write what you want to write. If you’re willing to write it, there’s a high chance someone will be willing to read it.

What people find compelling and interesting doesn’t necessarily mean new and 100% original. We all love some good old prompts even though we’ve read different versions of it a hundred times before.

Just write whatever you want to write, and see where it goes from there.


Writing is hard. It takes practice and patience. There is something incredibly rewarding about writing fanfiction, though. The interaction with your readers is immediate and receiving a positive comment makes all the hard work worth it.

So, practice. Have patience. Hold on in there, and most importantly: have fun!

I hope this was helpful :).

Gorgeous (Bucky x Reader)

Request: I just wanna say i’m so in love with your writings aaaand i was wondering if you could write a bucky x reader and the reader is so friendly with everyone, but she feels so alone because thinks nobody can fall in love with her, but bucky did. one day, she feels so down the she starts crying and saying awful things to herself looking in the mirror, but bucky hears everything and that makes him confess his feelings. i’m sorry it’s too long,. and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay <3  

Bucky x reader imagine where she had really horrible anxiety and he is the only one that can calm her down? would you mind putting some angst in there and like one of the other avengers caused her to panic (she isn’t an avenger) thanks doll ;) xx

Words: 2,917

Warnings: Self shame, anxiety, FLUFF

Tags: @annadier @happelu970 @shamvictoria11 @spookass @pabegay1(message me if you want to be tagged in any fics or if I forgot to tag you! Sometimes I forget, my apologies!


You were no Avenger.

You weren’t as badass as Natasha or Wanda. You weren’t as sarcastic and outgoing as your father, you were just you. You lived with the Avengers because your dad was Tony Stark, the Avengers were like your huge, crazy, loud family. You loved having them as a family, you loved every last bit of it, but sometimes it’s hard not to doubt your looks or skills.

You were clumsy. You ran into walls, got your shirt caught on pointy objects, face planted into gardens, and tripped going up the stairs.  You weren’t as strong as the others,  you never worked on your upper body strength because you never really cared about it.

You would run twice a week for exercise and that was it. You hated working out, it was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. You would much rather be drinking a milkshake while watching the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Like you were right now.

“Oo, fancy.” You were sitting criss crossed on the couch, a blanket spread across your bare legs and your baggy long sleeve shirt rolled up slightly on your arms. A milkshake in one hand while your eyes remained glued to the screen projecting the fashion show.

“That looks painful.” Scott spoke with a mouth full of his own milkshake. He was slouched next to you, his legs spread out in front of him and his back surrounded by toss pillows. He was tilting slightly onto the arm of the couch but he seemed to be comfortable.

“I would never wear something that heavy looking on my dick.” Scott took another large gulp of his shake, twisting his face in pain as a brain freeze clearly took over his mind temporarily.

“But it’s so pretty.” You admired the glammed up bra, “Oo, look she has wings! I wish I had wings, how fun would that be?”

“Super fun! I would strut around in wings all day if they looked like that.” Scott glanced over at you, but you were still consumed in admiring all the glamorous outfits and models.

“I have wings.” Sam called out from the chair on the other side of the couch. His legs hanging over the arm of the chair and his back resting against the other arm. His phone rested on his chest and his shake was long gone, the empty cup sitting on the coffee table. “They’re even cooler because mine work.”

“Mm.” Both you and Scott made the same sound and twisted your lips as you both looked at Sam.

“Not the same thing. Yours aren’t as glamorous, now are they?” You turned your attention back at the screen and made your lips in the shape of an ‘o’ as you looked at Gigi Hadid walk down the runway. She was your favorite model, her and Cara Delevingne.

“Yeah. You get feathers, sparkles, jewels and glitter on your wings, then we’ll talk.” Scott nodded his head swiftly and ignored Sam’s narrowed eyes as he directed his eyes back to the Fashion Show.

“I know a girl who can hook you up with some bedazzlement on those wings of yours, Sam.” You winked in his direction, a smirk tilting on your lips. “And by girl I mean me, and by bedazzlement I mean some superglue and a trip to Hobby Lobby.” 

“I hate both of you.” Sam chuckled under his breath and shifted around a little in his chair.

“Man, I wish I had legs like those.” Scott  shook his head and moved the straw in his shake around, trying to get a good sip. You giggled at Scott’s comment, you always found him to say the strangest but most awesome things. 

“You know who has legs like those?” Sam paused, waiting for Scott to answer but when Scott kept gulping down his shake, Sam answered himself. “Natasha. She even has the walk down too, she would slay all those other models.” 

Scott hummed in agreement. “And Wanda has the hair of a Victoria Secret model. I wish my hair was as luscious as hers, that would save me fifteen minutes in the morning.”

“You spend fifteen minutes on your hair?” Sam scuffed and tilted his head back to look at Scott.

“This,” Scott motioned to his hair. “doesn’t just happen, Sam. It takes time, effort and skill, okay?”

“Man, you’re crazy.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head and slouching back down in his chair again. “For real though, Wanda and Nat are hella attractive-”

You shuffled around in your seat, the thoughts that consumed your mind were driving you insane. All they were talking about was how beautiful Natasha and Wanda were, of course you had to agree, they were both stunningly gorgeous. They were badass, strong and attractive all at once. They were your best friends, but it always hurt you when you would go places with them and everyone would notice them and not you.

You weren’t as stunning as them, you weren’t as flawless and beautiful as them. Of course you weren’t. Everyone expected Tony Stark’s daughter to be drop dead gorgeous, but somehow they always seemed surprised to see you. You were never what they were expecting.

You stood up suddenly, your nose tingling and your eyes starting to twitch with tears. Your chest felt tight and your hands felt clammy, you needed a moment to pull yourself together before you came back out here and pretended to not even care. You dropped the blanket previously covering your bare legs on the couch where you used to be sitting and placed your milkshake, that suddenly made you feel bloated, on the coffee table.

“I have to pee.” You announced it as a joke, happily your voice didn’t shake and you seemed to be holding it together on the outside fairly well. You knew you were about to break, you had to hide.

“Okay.” Scott and Sam both watched you speed down the hallway. “Be back soon, the Angels are about to come out!’

“Man, seriously though, Nat and Wanda have the legs and hair, but damn, Y/N has the whole package. The face, hair, walk, legs, and even the hips.” Sam shook his head in astonishment.

Scott nodded his head in agreement and pulled a part of your blanket on his thighs, he knew it was your favorite blanket but he loved it just as much. It was soft and always smelled good.

“She looks more like a Victoria Secret model than some of the Victoria Secret models.” Scott talked with another mouthful of his shake, he didn’t even care though. “Have you seen the way everyone looks at her, she steals the attention away from Nat and Wanda every time they go out.”

“Hell, she steals the attention away from us Avengers. And we’re Avengers.”

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