Observation: Catra’s physical strength appears to vary wildly from episode to episode, and sometimes even from scene to scene within an episode; sometimes she can casually put her hand through a three-inch steel plate or physically overpower a monster hundreds of times her size, and other times she seems to be scarcely stronger than you’d expect any reasonably athletic twentysomething woman to be.
The Likely Explanation: Catra is as strong as the plot requires her to be, so the writers didn’t keep particularly close track of whether her demonstrated physical might was consistent from scene to scene.
The Angsty Fanfic Explanation: Catra has some sort of unresolved mental block about using her full strength, probably stemming from some Terrible Childhood Trauma™.
The Fun Fanfic Explanation: Catra doesn’t actually know how ridiculously strong she is, because she has no standard for comparison and it’s never occurred to her to put it to an empirical test. When somebody (probably Bow) notices the inconsistency, this inevitably leads to her being challenged to perform a series of increasingly inadvisable feats, culminating in some comical disaster that frames a Very Important Lesson™ about why needing to prove oneself to others is an unhealthy impulse.
( special thanks to @thecatsbian for the manip! it was a doozy. )
Mrs. & Mrs. Danvers → AO3 Link Words: 7,655 I Chapters: 6 / 7
When feeling returns to Kara, they’re both buried under debris. She kicks off a splintered piece of their overpriced shutters and pulls a block of home siding off of Lena, who groans loudly. Kara stumbles to her feet, helping Lena up and running her hands over her sides to make sure she’s not hurt.
“My house, I’ll fucking kill them,” Lena hisses through gritted teeth.
Yeah, she’s fine.
Kara spares a glance back behind them then, slipping a bit in her black rubber Wellington’s. All she sees is a fire rising over the remains of their custom-made, tailored home. It’s orange-yellow and charred black. A light fixture falls from the second floor, smashing into the rubble.
How do you mourn the death of someone who caused you so much heartache? How do you reconcile a dying declaration of pride with a lifetime of contempt? (Or, Catra’s still learning to identify and regulate her emotions, and to communicate with Adora. Melog helps her do both.)
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Bucky Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader/Bucky Barnes
Word count: 4031
Warnings: Dubcon, Smut, Sex Pollen, Oral sex M & F, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Threesome, Cussing, Spanking
Summary: ‘Multiple Partners writing prompt for @sherrybaby14‘ “Dark!Steve drugs the reader with sex pollen and has his way with her multiple times. Bucky finds out what Steve is doing and tries to convince him that it is wrong. But, once Steve shows Bucky how good the reader is during drugged sex he can’t help but have his way with her too.”
You felt like you’d been laying in bed for hours upon hours, unable to sleep. You’d left Henry playing video games in the living room on his PC, kissing his cheek before saying goodnight.
For some reason though, maybe it was because he wasn’t with you or because your couldn’t quiet your mind, you couldn’t fall asleep.
As you tossed and turned you could hear some noises coming from the living room, some of celebration and some of frustration.
You finally got out of bed and went back out to see Henry, watching him for a moment as he played a game you hadn’t seen before. He looked so focused and when he won the match he’d been playing he shouted.
Then he saw you out of the corner of his eye and turned, looking a little embarrassed.
He pulled his headphones off and jumped out of his gaming chair, making his way over to you. Sheepishly he said, “Oh darling I’m sorry, was I making too much noise?”
You chuckled and said, “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
He pulled you into a hug and said, “I’m sorry, love. Can I help at all?”
You gestured toward the computer, “Well since I can’t sleep anyway, want to show me how to play that game?”
Henry’s eyes lit up and he nodded, tugging you over to the computer. He sat down in the chair and pulled you onto his lap and handed you the headphones to put on.
He opened a practice match so that you could play against the computer first, not other people.
You listened to his instructions, “This is how you shoot, this is how you run, this is how you jump, oh and don’t press this button unless you need a quick save for you or a teammate”.
You started to play the game, failing here and there and getting frustrated but Henry kept telling you that you were doing wonderfully for a beginner.
After a while you felt fairly comfortable and Henry opened up a match against other players. Playing with real people was a lot different than playing the computer - they weren’t going easy on you.
You ended up losing a few matches and then winning a few matches before Henry finally suggested you stop playing.
“Why though? I’m having fun!” you whined.
Henry chuckled as he tugged the headphones off of you, he stood and threw you over his shoulder, “Because, darling, it’s 3 in the morning and you and I both need some sleep”.
Prompt: Anakin and The Boys make a skillshare about how to scrap battledroids but about halfway through Tup makes a hair routine class, then other troopers post their hobbies and basically thats how they win the public over to support the clones
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first instalment of ‘Reasons Why the 501st is the Best Battalion in the GAR’, subtitled ‘How To Scrap Battledroids’, sponsored by the Hero With No Fear himself, General Anakin Skywalker!”
General Skywalker steps into frame with a cocky smirk. The camera trails from his face down his arm to where he’s holding his lightsaber with a sure grip.
“Today we’ll be demonstrating some of the most effective ways to absolutely demolish the B1 battle droid,” the narrator continues. The camera turns slowly, revealing several clones all around the Jedi, armed to the teeth and waiting. “The B1 battle droid, also referred to as a standard battle droid or a clanker, is the most widely used battle droid manufactured by Baktoid Combat Automata and Baktoid Armor Workshop. They’re the successor to the OOM-series battle droids. Early versions of the model required the use of a—”
“Holy kriff no one cares, Echo!” one of the clones says loudly. The narrator lets out an offended huff. The camera jerks and spins so that General Skywalker comes back into frame. The Jedi looks amused.
So it’s one year since the GO series released, ate my soul, and spat it back out in the form of many, many words (er… 230k, according to AO3. Good lord.) Here is all the stuff I wrote during this unexpected deep dive into renewed fandom love! I am Atalan on AO3.
One year after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t, Crowley and Aziraphale have settled into a new routine: keeping an eye on supernatural happenings in the world and preventing Heaven or Hell from interfering too much with humanity. It’s not a bad job - despite occasional rains of fish - and if there are some unspoken things they really ought to talk about, well, they have all the time in the world now to get around to that, right?
At least, until the Archangel Raphael turns up on their doorstep looking for help… and it starts to become clear that the world is changing fast, and so are they.
Or: Crowley and Aziraphale start a detective agency. Shenanigans ensue. Slowburn continues. Apparently, there is plot. I have some thoughts about Heaven, Hell, and humanism. There will be stupid jokes and a healthy sprinkling of angst.
Notes: This one is going for as close to the tone and characterisation of GO itself as I can manage while telling the story I want to tell. There’s some light angst and relationship-building, the slowburn is VERY SLOW, but mostly it is (hopefully) a lot of fun with some interesting worldbuilding.
Crowley didn’t look up immediately when he heard the shop door open; he was just in the middle of finishing off a complicated bouquet, and the blasted ribbon was being difficult about things.
“Just a sec,” he said, scowling as the end slipped away from him again.
There was a pause. And then a voice, softly, “There you are.”
AU. For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley’s flower shop. But Crowley can’t let it go…
Notes: VERY HEAVY ANGST, including character death (albeit temporary), shifting to hurt/comfort and an eventual happy ending. The happy ending is, I hope, worth the pain, but you have been warned.
Human AU. Crowley has decided to give up on life in the city and move to the countryside. Aziraphale is intrigued by the new arrival in Pelican Town. Fluff ensues in such enormous quantities I am compelled by law to recommend a dental check-up after reading.
A series of Good Omens/Stardew Valley ficlets based on thunderheadfred’s “Stardew Omens” mod (which replaces Harvey with Aziraphale as the town doctor). Knowledge of the game provides some additional context for the NPCs etc but really it’s all about the ineffable farm romance here.
Notes: The antidote to Icarus, this is all fluff, no angst, everyone is just happy, it’s all fine. I really didn’t expect it to be as popular as it is - I thought people would be put off by the crossover aspect, but apparently ineffable farm fluff transcends such details.
Aziraphale wasn’t one of the angels tasked with creation. He wasn’t ever expected to create anything new, but as it happened, he already had, though no-one (including him) realised it.
He had, completely on his own and with very little fuss, invented being desperately, hopelessly in love with someone who didn’t even know his name.
AU. Aziraphale gets a shock when he runs into the Archangel Raphael in the Garden, especially since he’s calling himself “Crowley” and pretending to be just any old ordinary angel. Meanwhile Crowley just wants someone to appreciate him for himself without all the convoluted power games of Heaven…
Notes: The start of an extremely self-indulgent “royalty who doesn’t want to be royalty and falls in love with a commoner” AU series, only with Archangels in place of Princes, Crowley as Raphael, and Aziraphale with a crush the size of Alpha Centauri. Fluffy yearning, angst, and Crowley’s ongoing existential crisis due to NOT Falling.
“All right, I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Aziraphale says. “What exactly does this wager entail?”
Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale’s tut of disapproval.
“The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening.”
AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone’s had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale’s just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.
Notes: A very silly premise that I challenged myself to keep as in-character and in-tone as possible. Easily my most popular fic. It’s pretty damn funny though I do say so myself.
Aziraphale is sure this isn’t right. He’s sure he remembers wisps from a world that hasn’t been made yet: a bookshop and a restaurant and a park and… someone else. But this is Heaven, before the Beginning. How can he possibly remember anything? How can he possibly feel like he’s lost everything?
Notes: Woke up one day with this in my head and wrote it all in one go because it wouldn’t let me rest. My take on “Aziraphale and Crowley knew each other before the Fall”, with a twist. Kind of angsty-poetic, happy ending, mostly made of stars and feels.
The Beginning Of The World isn’t going quite the way it’s supposed to, mostly because Aziraphale and Crowley can’t keep their hands off each other.
Notes: Written for the Ineffable Con Zine (October 2019) - a silly, fluffy little thing inspired by my encounters with the infamous “they just want to be kissing” phenomenon while trying to write other fic.
Crowley missed a rather important memo on the mechanics of species proliferation.
Notes: This is so short and silly I originally didn’t even plan to upload it to AO3, but everyone LOVED IT - it’s my most popular tumblr post ever - so here we are. The “why does Crowley think one unicorn is enough to propagate the species” ficlet.
I’m not done yet. :p
Best Served Cold (~10 chapters, Rated: T)
Sequel to “Instructions Not Included”. Crowley has a very bad day at the office, an old enemy resurfaces to cause problems on purpose, and Aziraphale might actually have to confront his mixed feelings about Heaven and God this time around.
[Untitled] (~5 chapters, Rated: T)
Sequel to “Starstruck”. Aziraphale has been stationed permanently on Earth and is waiting hopefully for Crowley to come back. Crowley‘s still smarting from the Apple Incident and afraid of causing more harm, but in the end, he can’t stay away. Biblical stuff happens, the two of them are about as competent as they ever are in dealing with it.
The Rose and the Serpent (~10 chapters, Rated: M/E)
AU, retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…
Henry could barely contain his excitement as he knocked on your trailer door, waiting impatiently for you to let him in. He could hear your shuffles as you moved around the trailer before swinging the door open, revealing you, with small eyes and messy hair, like you just woken up. You gave him an unimpressed look and stepped aside, making room for him to enter, before closing the door behind you.
“I hope you have a good reason to be here, because I was finally catching up on some sleep.” Henry snickered and gestured at your appearance.
“Yeah I noticed, I’m sorry for waking you up. How can I make it up to you?”
You smiled and grabbed his hand, dragging him along to your bed. “Just lay with me and tell me why you wanted to see me so urgently.”
You snuggled closer to the covers while he settled himself on top of them, giving you space to move closer if you wanted to. You propped your head up on your hands and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to start talking.
“I think I just got a deal with Zack Snyder, about being Superman again.” You perked up at that, and caught his gaze. He told you about the struggles he had with the company and how he missed being Superman. You felt your stomach flutter and threw your arms around his neck, catching him by surprise.
“I’m so happy for you, Henry,” you softly whispered against his skin. “If anyone deserves some happiness, it’s you.”
When he pulled back his eyes were glazed over with tears and his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. You decided to take a gamble and licked your lips, drawing Henry’s attention to them, once again, and took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting softly. He released a groan and cupped your face in his hands, pressing his lips on yours. You smiled in the kiss and bit down on his lip, drawing a moan from him. One of his hands tangled himself in your hair, while the other roamed over your body, pausing on your hip. His lips were soft, like satin and you felt the world spin as you completely surrendered to the feeling of his lips on yours.
You had to pull away, as you ran short on breath and gasped as Henry trailed the length of your neck with featherlight kisses, pausing after every kiss, to see your reaction. You tugged at his hair to get him closer to your lips again, your faces barely an inch away from each other. You pressed a quick kiss on his lips and laid back down, your head propped up on your hands.
‘’Tell me more about that deal.’’
Henry started rambling about the deal he made and how excited he was to work with the Justice League cast again, while you watched him, a fond smile on your face. You loved the passion Henry had for his roles and how he could ramble for hours about it. You yawned and tried to keep your eyes open, but the combination of Henry’s smoothing voice and the lack of sleep made your eyes flutter close. Your head fell back against Henry’s arm and he looked down, still talking.
’And then I was - oh,‘’ he took in your sleeping form and softly smiled, tucking the blankets tighter around you. ‘’Goodnight dear.’’
Request: Yes / NoHi can I please get a Spencer Reid x reader where if you’ve seen the 12 season where cat has his mom and tells him that she’s pregnant with his kids and tells him she did it because she Convince him that he was doing it with Maeve and reader over hears them and she starts to feel the she was just a rebound to him and they get in a fight about how she’s Insecure about their relationship and can it end in fluff please and if you can thank you 🙏🏼 sorry if this doesn’t make sense or sounds Messy Anon
A/N: I wrote this just right now….at 1:20am…with little to no editing. BUT YOU GUYS SAID YOU WANTED THIS IMAGINE CONCEPT FIRST SO IM DELIVERING! Here’s some singer!y/n vibes. Requests stay open so always feel free to send any ideas you have! Hope you all love it! xx
Synopsis: Harry thought the worst of management overworking clients was done to him all those years ago, but he is sadly mistaken when you begin to experience the same thing in your own career.
Word Count: 2.8k
The ache that was shooting throughout my body, ran as deep as my bone marrow.
I felt it everywhere. My joints were silently begging me to stop as they throbbed and continued to shoot more messages to my brain that something was desperately wrong. I can’t keep going. I don’t know how.
No deep enough breath could satisfy the longing need for oxygen in my lungs. Every inhale was short, no matter how hard I tried to collect as much air as possible, more carbon dioxide came in than went out. There seemed to be no point in desperately pleading with John for a break. Even a protein bar and some water seemed like an out of reach luxury that I wouldn’t know ever again.
My feet continued to trip up as my toes lost the feeling of the floor beneath me. My heavy eyes turned to look towards the clock that taunted me with every ‘tick’ it emitted.
God it’s been four hours.
The numbers circling around the clock read 9:30am.
John, my manager, had insisted on me coming into tour rehearsals at the butt crack of dawn. There was no time for food (although I begged and tried), and there was no more comfort flooding my system.
The once loving and safe embrace of Harry’s strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer absentmindedly in his sleep, was now replaced with the excruciating pain searing throughout my tired and over worked body.
“Come on Aspen. How do you not have the moves down yet, it’s been hours.”
Well that’s easy for you to say, you’re the one standing there not sweaty, well fed, and hydrated.
“John please. I need food.” My breathless begs fell to his deaf ears. They always do.
I felt my body drop to the ground in a sudden burst of weakness. The previous hours were catching up with me. Nausea. It was the first thing I felt. The build up of saliva was pooling under my tongue as bile rose throughout the back of my throat.
“You don’t need food Aspen. You need to get the choreography down. We have one more hour and then you need to go to the studio. Start working on album number 3.” My eyes widened at his words. The intense nausea was soon replaced by an immobilizing feeling of dizziness as I rose to my feet.
“John. Album two just came out. Why would album three need to be now? I-I have songs, but I thought I had more time to-“
“Is that an excuse I hear Aspen?” My cries to be heard and understood where cut off by is chastising tone. Whenever John talked to me I felt like a little kid. I felt like I had to answer and obey everything he asked or said because “he is the mom” or because “he said so”. I wasn’t a strong powerful 22 year old woman anymore, I was a disobedient 7 year old.
“I haven’t fucking eaten John. I can’t-“ My statement was cut off again as his voice cut though all the hope I had.
“You can, and you will.” With the lingering words flying over my head like an all consuming looming cloud, I crawled over to my phone as John left the studio room with a harsh slam.
I winced as the loud noise echoed off the fairly empty walls of the room.
My stomach felt like it was going to cave in. And for the first time in months I felt like I myself was going to cave in with it. I wanted to eat…god did I want to eat. I want to sleep for five years, and tell Harry about all of this fucking shit….but I can’t. My career is resting in the hands of a man who never lets me forget that “what happens at work stays at work”.
My phone had a few texts from Harry. I smiled softly at my only source of comfort.
H🤍: Wish you had said good bye before sneaking off to work this morning :(
H🤍: I miss you. I love you. When do you think you’ll be home for the lunch we planned? xx
“Fucking hell!” My labored breathing called out into the room after reading his words. I completely forgot that me and Harry had decided on having a picnic in the backyard to have much needed Aspen and Harry time. With both of our extremely demanding schedules (mine more than his…thanks John), we didn’t have much time just us. My heart was eager and longing to not care about the world or the fact that my body was slowly giving out on me. I wanted to get lost in the trance that Harry always captivates me in when we’re alone. But that’s been taken away from me…again.
Aspen: I’m so sorry baby. I have to go to the studio. John’s orders. I feel horrible hun. Please forgive me…xx
H🤍: The studio? Aspen you just released an album. Why is he making you go to the studio? What have you been doing all this time?
I could tangibly feel the worry that was laced in Harry’s typed words. He knows just as well as I do, if not more, that an album can’t be forced, and that there is something to be said for appreciating each era. John on the other hand is already starting the next era while the one we’re in has barely started.
To say I felt exhausted would be an understatement. My body felt like a ton of bricks that I was forced to carry around each day. My inspiration had now run dry as my manager continued to squeeze all of the fun and care free spirit out of song writing. Processing my feelings into poetic rhythms and intoxicating melodies was now a chore. It was now a burden that was thrown onto my withering shoulders.
Aspen: Tour rehearsals…I have to go today H. You know I would rather be with you, but I can’t argue with John. You know I wouldn’t win. Take care of yourself love, and I’ll be back tonight. I love you and miss you more than anything. xx
Rereading my own text triggered the part in my brain to send of alarms that something is so so wrong. My text sounded like it was sent while I was thousands of miles away, not that he was simply a few miles down the road at our house.
John had found a way to make Harry seem so far away from me when he was standing right there. It would be date night, and I was torn away for dance rehearsals. It would be the middle of a heated passionate moment and he’s calling me and saying I need to re-record my harmonies this moment or he’ll drop me.
Everything was ruined because of him.
I groaned again, trying incredibly hard to focus on how thankful I am to have this job instead of focusing on my exhausted frame that seemed to be a shell of who I used to be.
Oh thank God home.
I let out a long exhale of relief as soon as the bitter cold AC of me and Harry’s shared home in Malibu washed over my bruised and heated skin. My tired eyes saw my amazing boyfriend cooking food over in the kitchen that filled my nose with a delicious scent. It was a stark contrast to the stale studio and dance room air that I had been held captive in the whole day.
“Darlin’! Welcome home, my love!” Harry’s chipper and welcoming aura almost made me forget about every problem that was swirling in my head. His bright green eyes held a sparkle that never failed to make me smile along with him.
”Hi baby. I missed you.” I mumbled into his chest. His warm and safe arms wrapped around my body. My tone was more sad then I had intended it to sound. I could feel Harry’s attitude shift as the realization that I wasn’t okay washed over him.
Pulling my tired body from his strong grip, Harry finally took a long look at me. I watched his emerald green sparkly eyes fade into a dull and concerned haze as they scanned over my features. The bags under my eyes must have been two shades darker than they were the previous week. My usual fuller figure now was a skinnier more hollowed out frame. The light behind my own eyes was gone. The desire to smile the biggest smile whenever I was in our home wasn’t there. I wasn’t there.
“What have they done to you?” His face contorted to one that held only the emotions of fear and sadness. His eyes now glossed over with a film of water that threatened to pool over.
One of his strong ring clad fingers came to delicately ghost over any features that he could see.
“It’s tour season H. I’m fine. It’s just a lot-“
“It’s more than a lot. You’re not okay Aspen.” Heading my full name come out of his mouth made my stomach drop out of my body and onto the floor. Harry only ever called me by my name when he was serious. He usually opted for “love” of “darling”, but that was gone as his concerned eyes held my gaze. He was serious.
“I’m okay Harry please…” I trailed off, breaking eye contact with him. I couldn’t care staring straight into the eyes of the man I love and lying. I want out. I want out of this situation called John that I’m in. I want to shout on the rooftops that I’m not okay and that the persona of everything being fine was only there to make everyone happy, but I’m not happy.
My passion has now become a job, and the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with I can never be around.
“Harry please. Not tonight. Not tonight.” I mumbled keeping my gaze trained in the floor standing beneath us. Anything was more interesting to look at than my heartbroken boyfriend. I had let him down, and I couldn’t take seeing his emotions written all over his face.
Suck it up Aspen. If not for you…then for Harry.
The music ringing through my in-ears seemed louder than they ever had before. The bass of the drums shot straight to the back of my skull, causing it to pound in a dull pain. The dances that I had slaved over sleeplessly for hours to perfect were all wrong. The air was acting as if it had been injected with a deadly poison that I could no longer breath, and even if I tried my lungs rejected it.
The empty arena would be filled with thousands tonight. All screaming, having an amazing time, singing out lyrics that changed their lives, making new friends, and I was going to ruin it for them.
“ASPEN COME ON! SHOW TIME IS IN AN HOUR! KNOCK IT OFF!” Johns booming voice could be heard all the way from Sec 203 of the vacant arena. It carried and filled the already unbreathable air for my lungs with a tangible venom.
“Hey lay off John. She’s trying-“
“I pay you to dance with her not to fucking open your mouth when you’re not spoken too.” My backup dancer was genuinely trying to help, but this wasn’t help-able. Nothing could get me back on track to how I once was, acted, and felt during the last tour.
“Aspen are you okay?” A voice called out to me, couldn’t tell you who it belonged too, but it sounded distant, almost as if it was calling for me from another universe. The four people standing by me soon became eight as my eyes blurred and my mind played tricks on me.
God I just need water and something to eat. Maybe even a short nap sounds nice.
“Baby are you okay?” That voice I knew, yet it still seemed out of reach. It was Harry.
His blurred figure was holding up a body that I didn’t even feel like I occupied anymore. He was holding onto the shell of me as I only focused on the increased ache in my stomach and pounding in my head.
Everyone was gone in and instant and sounds ceased to fill my ears. Everything was black as the last thing I felt was my knees buckling in the tight grasp of Harry’s arms.
“Aspen baby I’m so fucking sorry. So fucking sorry. I knew they were overworking you. I saw it, and didn’t fucking do anything. I should’ve punched the living shit out of John. He should be in here because of me…not you darlin’….not you….” I heard Harry’s words. They were breaking my heart as I sat still against the hospital bed. I had woken up a few minutes ago to the harsh reality of my choices.
The IV drip feeding into my arm was my fault because I never asked for help. I should’ve ran to Harry and cried and screamed about all of my frustrations, but I never did. The canceled concert and the intense deep seeding guilt rooted strong in me for letting down my fans deserved to be there because I didn’t stop John. This was my fault not Harry’s fault.
I woke up consciously ready to talk to him, to open up to him, and to apologize for keeping my abusive work out of his knowledge…but he started talking the moment I almost did.
His words filled my ears as I pretended to sleep. He was beating himself up over this. He genuinely believes that he could’ve stopped this. He couldn’t have.
“H-harry.” I croaked out, forgetting that my throat was dry and had closed due to the intense lump that raged in its airways.
“Baby. Oh my god. Holy shit, are you okay!? I’m so fucking sorry my love-“
“Harry please stop. This isn’t your fault.” My reasoning once again feel on deaf ears, but not because he didn’t want to hear me, but because he was so utterly torn up about my state that he felt there had to have been signs that he missed.
“It is though. I knew you weren’t okay. They’re doing to you what was done to me. How could I have not seen it? Fuck I’m an idiot.” It was his turn for his ashamed eyes to look anywhere but deep into mine. It didn’t feel possible for my heart to break more than it could, but at the sight of him like this…it did. My hand wrapped tightly around his larger one that laid adjacent to my body.
“Stop. This is no ones fault, but John’s. Not mine, and certainly not yours.” His quiet sniffs and quick jerks go wipe his tears will forever stay in my mind. My happy and easy going Harry was gone as a devastated and torn up version of the man I’m madly in love with sat in front of me.
“I was so scared. Seeing you black out. I-I felt so helpless….s-so useless. I’m supposed to protect you…a-and…I couldn’t.”
With all the strength I could muster, I sat my aching body up from its previous position against the hospital bed. My hands grabbed gently, but firmly onto his face, forcing his glazed over and watery eyes to find a home in my own.
“My Harry…I love you.” There was no point in any more apologies for it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Johns. There was no point in explaining or reasoning. All I wanted to do in this moment was to comfort Harry. To make him feel my love. To show him that I truly am okay, and that we can work through this situation together.
His eyes gained back the bright shine that always rested in the green of his iris’. Although his face still held the concerned that clouded his mind for hours, I could tell that he allowed my words to have a home in his mind over the crazy theories that his anxiety was making up.
“I’m so incredibly and inexplicably in love with you my Aspen.” His soft hands found their way to gently cup my own face. Within the pure and innocent touches that delicately graced both of our skins from our fingers, I knew that no matter what happened or how I would move forward, I had Harry by my side through it all. I had the greatest love to ever exist on my side, and that was something so beautiful and peaceful that I found myself resting in.
summary : tom sees this girl around, and one day, she doesnt show up when she normally does
word count : 1200
a/n : okay you’ve probably heard this a lot, but please spread awareness: BLACK LIVES MATTER. many celebrities are choosing not to use their platforms, even though they have such a large following, and it deeply disappoints me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t speak up & take action.
Tom saw her around. One summer, she just started popping up all over London; in shops, on buses, at the cinema, sitting in the park. Everywhere. Of course, Tom saw people around, but they were regulars: people who grew up there, like him. But not this girl.
It was obvious she wasn’t from London. And although Tom was a native, he was still too nervous to ever talk to her. She was pretty, though. So fucking beautiful. He had grown accustomed to seeing her every Monday and Thursday. They got coffees at the same time on Monday’s, and they rode the same bus on Thursday afternoons. Tom had never talked to her; he was just a quiet observer, admirer.
“Tom ’s smitten for the girl on the bus,” Harrison had teased in front of Tom’s brothers, to which he lightly punched his arm as a blush filled his face.
an imagine based of the song ‘the hills’ by the weeknd
i had this idea like a week ago so i just decided to write it idk. Sorry if this is bad 🥺
warnings: rafe cameron x reader, toxic relationship, mentions of smut, swearing, slight mention of abuse,
I’m just tryna get you out the friend zone.
cause you look even better than the photos.
Rafe sat on his unmade bed staring intently at his phone.
A photo of you from your instagram was open. You were laid on your boat in just a small, red bikini that hugged all your curved in all the right ways and complimented your tan skin perfectly. You were laid next to Sarah Cameron (although Rafe definetly wasn’t looking at her.)
Rafes palm rested firmly against his salmon pink shorts as he tried to ease the uncomfortable feeling rising underneath them just at the thought of you. Accidentally, he double tapped the photo. Panic spread across his face until he released it could be a good thing.
Soon after, he was sent a follow request by you. Smirking, he clicked accept.
Found out I was comin’, sent your friends home
“Hey, im just 10 minutes away.” Rafe muttered down the phone, hearing your muted whispers as you shooed your friends out of your house, making up some bullshit excuse to convince them to leave. Rafe smirked proudly at how he had you completely wrapped around his finger.
Once he reached your house, he didnt bother knocking as he headed straight towards your bedroom, having walked this way many times before.
Opening your creaky bedroom door, he was greeted by you laid provocatively on your bed, legs spread. You wore an old t-shirt that Rafe used to wear religiously until it 'mysteriously’ disappeared. His answer to where it went was sitting right infront of him. That was all you were wearing.
He quickly moved towards you, his large hands littered with rings firmly grabbed your tanned thighs, spreading them wider. His grin widened as he saw his effect on you.
Your breath was quickening and your heart rate was beating fast. A pale blush laid on your rosy cheeks, flushed at the thought of everything rafe was about to do to you.
I only call you when it’s half past five
The only time that I’ll be by your side
You were woken from your peaceful sleep by something hitting against your window. Your eyes adjusted to the light and promptly widened as you realised someone was throwing something at it.
You anxiously stood up and walked closer to your window, catching a glimpse of blonde hair and bloodshot eyes in the moonlight. You let out a gasp of relief. Quickly, you opened the window to let him climb up.
Your head turned towards your alarm clock beside your bed, seeing the time read 5:30am. You subconsciously rolled your eyes. You should’ve expected it.
“Hey y/n.” he spoke nonchalantly, his infamous smirk rested on his stupidly perfect face.
“You cant keep coming into my bedroom at this time! I want to sleep.” you groaned, annoyed. He chuckled sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at you.
“You love the attention.”
I only love it when you touch me, not feel me
When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me
You were both laid comfortable under his bedsheets after a long night. You started to push your head into his neck and rested your arm on top of his torso as your heavy eyes drooped shut.
“What are you doing?” Rafe asked, miffed. You tried to shrug while staying in that position. You knew Rafe didn’t like 'affection.’ He liked to have sex then leave. Nothing else.
“Its time for you to go now, Y/N.” He grumbled as he turned to his bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a bag filled with white powder.
“what are you doing?” you asked, abruptly sitting up. If glares could kill, he would be long gone.
“What does it look like, hm?”
You scoffed, shaking your head.
“You promised you wouldnt do that anymore. At least not around me.”
This time, he scoffed.
“People lie all the time. Get used to it, babe. What, are you new to the world?” he asked condescendingly before proceeding to snort the line he had just prepared.
tryna keep it up don’t seem so simple
I just fucked two bitches 'fore I saw you
He leisurely walked into your bedroom, while you sat in your messy bed, mascara streaks decorated your cheeks and your eyes bloodshot from crying all night.
He didnt seem to notice your disheveled appearance as he laid next to you, beginning to kiss down your neck. Angrily, you pushed him away from you, moving further to the opposite side of your bed.
“I saw the photos.”
“Huh?” He asked, unbothered.
“Of you and Kiara Carrera kissing at that party a few hours ago.” you muttered, more tears pathetically slipped out your eyes. He laughed.
“So? We arent together, y/n. I fucked two bitches before coming here. You aint special.”
Always tryna send me off to rehab
Drugs started feelin’ like it’s decaf
“Let me help you!” you yelled at him, after watching him breakdown infront of you for the first time. He had an argument with his father and had gone straight to coke as a source of therapy.
“I don’t need your help y/n. Stop trying to get me to see a therapist.” He shouted back at you, neighbours from the street over could probably hear both of your voices fighting against each other.
“Yes you do! you cant keep going to fucking cocaine to solve all your problems! One day you are going to die from this shit.” You cried, trying to open his eyes to the consequences of hard drugs. His eyes shut tightly closed as he paced the room, steam practically flowing out of his ears. His face was red from frustration and rage.
His hand reached in the air, and a sharp pain to your cheek quickly followed after.
Who are you to judge, who are you to judge?
Hide your lies, girl, hide your lies
Rafe watched as you spoke to the dirty pogues from his spot at the dock. You were sat on the HMS pogue laughing with John B and Pope. JJ was sat infront of you smoking a blunt and Kie was stood at the wheel, ready to begin driving.
Rafe chuckled lowly. Who were you to judge? He watched as JJ handed you the cigarette and you happily took it from his hands, smoothly intaking the smoke and breathing it out. Clearly not your first time. You then leaned over to peck JJ on the lips, him smirking soon after.
Maybe you also had your own lies. You weren’t so different after all.
a/n: ooo this is my first rafe x reader imagine. Pleaseee give me feedback 🙂 ilyyy ❤️
Blurb Synopsis: During your break, instead of going to the stuffy staff break room, you wander outside into the cool air by the waterpark. Unbeknownst to you, there you meet a bubbly stranger in the hot tub, and never again is your life the same.
P.S. - Funny story, I found this in my Notes and I had started writing this in 2016. Crazy. I liked rereading it and figured I’d finish it, so don’t be too hard on me, please. I just thought it was fun, and it’s funny because I really cannot remember writing this to begin with haha. Hehe see if you can find the part where I picked up on….. Enjoy! ;)
It was the dead of winter, but you couldn’t spend any more time inside, or in that lousy closet of a break room with your coworkers for another minute. They were well past getting on your last nerve, and you weren’t going to let them ruin your one slice of ‘me time’ today.
Squeaky children’s voices and the sound of water hits your ears as you take a shortcut. The door opens with a little punch! when you press on the horizontal bar. Cold air meets your clammy skin quickly, refreshing you. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your sweaty back meets the cold surface of the glass door. Pebbles grind beneath your feet and birds caw in the distance. When you turn to look around like any regular human being, you almost run right back into the door when you see the head of brown hair a few feet away, bobbing out of the water.