he kept to his word and called her

10

Can we talk about something real quick?!

In this scene from the newest short, I could only imagine how angry Winston would have been after seeing his friend (I argue best friend) disappear. Like I don’t really see people mention how good (best) friends Winston and Tracer are!

-Winston makes Tracers chronal accelerator and in her words “But my friend Winston would not give up, he kept at it, day and night.” Essentially giving Tracer control of her powers. Also, he is present her during her training.

- On Winston’s computer, Tracers and his photo sit on top of all the others, including one of Dr. Winston (essentially his dad) and Winston as a baby!

- During the recall, Tracer is the first to answer Winstons call. 

-During the first short Winston and Tracer are fighting alongside each other. 

- They spend Christmas with each other gosh darn it! 

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF! Winton FUCKING ONE PUNCHES Doomfist after seeing his (best) friend disappear! BFFs.

 

The Long Game - Derek Hale Imagine

Requested by @derangedangelImagine request :) Reader is the same age as Scott & the others but has a crush on Derek & is always flirting with him but Derek doesn’t reciprocate those feelings because of the age difference. But reader is in it for the “long game.” Like a GMW Maya & Josh situation. A few years later reader comes back & Derek likes her back. Thanks :D

Word Count: 4,502

Warning: Derek being abused and injured. 

My Teen Wolf Master List

Originally posted by agsztrashbouquet

Y/N couldn’t keep her lips from forming into a smirk as she saw Derek’s picture appear on her phone. She had just moved back to Beacon Hills earlier today into her new apartment. She had spent most of the day unpacking her boxes, and was already in bed watching a movie on her laptop. She quickly swiped her thumb across the phone and answered. “Hello, stranger. It’s after midnight. No guy ever calls a girl after midnight except for one-" 

"Y/N…” Derek interrupted followed by a loud growl. Y/N could hear Derek’s heartbeat going crazy and his labored breathing. What caught her attention was hearing another heartbeat. “I need you." 

His voice was filled with worry, which caused Y/N to sit up straight in her bed alarmed. "Derek, where are you?”

“I don’t know…” he whispered unexpectedly. He no longer sounded like he was in pain or fighting against someone. He now sounded weak and hurt.

“Derek, I need you to talk to me. What do you see?” She asked as she quickly got out of bed to get dressed.

“I can’t… see anything…” he mumbled. She rushed as she heard his heartbeat getting weaker by the second.

She swallowed hard as she closed her eyes, letting a tear fall down her cheek. She was absolutely terrified for him. “Derek… I’m going to come and get you, okay? But I need to call Stiles to help me. Can you answer the phone if I call you back?”

“My phone… is going to die…”

“Fuck!” She whispered to herself. She put on her shoes as an idea crossed her mind. “After you hang up with me, turn off your phone and save the battery for about 10 minutes. That’ll be about the time it will take me to get to Stiles’ office at the police station. I’ll call you back but you have to answer, okay?”

“O… kay…” he mumbled weakly.

“Derek?” Her voice trembled. He hummed a small ‘yes’. “Please answer the phone." 

"I promise,” he said before he hung up and turned off his phone like he was told to do. 

Y/N grabbed her keys before rushing to her car. Her fingers trembled as she dialed Stiles’ number. For some strange reason a flashback flooded her mind to the first time she went to Stiles for help with Derek.

Keep reading

I’m still screaming

*Mon-El emphasizing woman when his parents kept trying to call Kara a girl

*Mon-El communicating with his own words (not just a repeat of what Kara said but his own views and perspective on what was wrong with his old life and his part in it) and fully understanding that the way the people of Daxam were treated was wrong + plus accepting responsibility for his role in it

*Mon-El saying that thinking about the person he used to be makes him ill

*Mon-El saying that even if he can’t be with Kara being around her makes him better and that’s what matters

*Mon-El calling Earth home

I know there’s more but my cable’s out so I couldn’t record and go back but these are the ones that are burned into my very soul. This was everything I have been waiting for.

Hell of A First Time

Pairing: Castiel x Sam x Dean x Virgin!Reader (no destiel, sastiel,or wincest–sorry!)

Word Count: 4.3k words of SIN

Warnings: it’s a threesome with dean as a voyeur. and the reader’s a virgin. lots of orgasms. and there’s oral. tada!

A/N: this is my first time writing a threesome, so be kind, friends!! feedback is so greatly appreciated!

Originally posted by stayclassysupernatural

You, Sam, Dean and Cas sat around the map table sharing a bottle of whiskey, celebrating another successful hunt. It was nights like these—full of laughter, jokes and telling stories—that you treasured most. Being a hunter pretty much ensured a short-lived life, so you always treasured the small moments of joy spent with your best friends.

Keep reading

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 3

A/N: This sort of ends abruptly, but if I didn’t end it here the imagine would have been extremely long so I’ll be posting part 4 within the next three days x 

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


Three months after Harry called off his relationship with Y/n, it was his birthday, and just like every other year for the past five, the boys decided to spend his birthday weekend at Louis’ family lake house. It was one of the few times a year they’d go- only saved for special occasions. It’s secluded, far from the city, but close enough so that it’s not too much out of their way.

Their tradition when it comes to Harry’s birthday weekend has remained the same for years now. A bonfire, a couple of poker games, countless amounts of beer, and occasional midnight skinny dipping. However, this year, the only change in tradition is Y/n not being there.

The second Harry steps foot out of his car, the whole idea of spending his birthday without Y/n makes him feel sick to his stomach. This was their favorite place to be together. They didn’t know why, but something about the privacy and the exclusiveness of it enhanced their relationship in unimaginable ways. They have had many occasions where they would flee from London without a word and spend a couple days alone here. 

The guys scurry out of the car in excitement, absolutely stoked to be back in the grand Tomlinson lake house. Harry sighs, slamming his car door shut before half-heartedly making his way inside.

He can’t blame their excitement when it came to the celebration weekend, however, they hadn’t seemed to notice how off Harry became the first couple of hours upon their arrival. But what else did he expect? He didn’t tell them, he didn’t tell them any of it. He didn’t want to. He knew they knew, anyways, but he had constantly beat himself up, blaming himself for destroying the one thing in his life he felt was genuinely worth fighting for. If he had told them what he did, he would never hear the end of it. He didn’t need anyone else to remind him of how much he had fucked up.

But ever since Y/n had left, something in him changed. He had no desire to fight anymore. Three days after he broke it off, he was worse than ever. Getting himself into numerous fights multiple times a day. It was his way of coping the loss of her, the loss of his only true humanity. However, when the fourth day came, and Harry started to really understand the fact that he was never going to see Y/n again, was when the pain really set in. He felt himself suffocating in a horrendous amount of guilt. 

She had tried so hard, she pushed him harder than anybody else had. Nobody put as much faith in him as she had. She stayed with him in times he truly didn’t deserve it. Hell, there were even days where she was so mad at him that all she could do was yell and yell and yell, and even then she still slept in the same bed as him. He couldn’t live with letting all of that go- letting her go- so he decided to prove himself wrong

It was the biggest fight of his life, the one against himself; when half of him wanted to inflict his pain onto other people and the other half wanting desperately to change himself for the sake of his relationship with Y/n. But he knew he was stronger than the monster inside of him, even though he believed he was weaker. What made him strong was Y/n’s relationship with him, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

It didn’t take Y/n more than a couple days to tell Zayn what had happened. He called her, asking what was going on since Harry had been a complete wreck with no sign of her in his life. She explained, in the best that she could between her harsh sobs and broken whimpers that Harry had left her. He broke up with her, tried to convince her that they didn’t belong together, and eventually confessed that he wasn’t willing to change for her. 

Y/n made him promise not to tell anybody else because she felt that this was Harry’s responsibility, not anybody else. Of course, Zayn kept his promise and never said a word about it to anyone. 

The rest of the guys tried to get it out of him, though. They never forced it, but occasionally mentioned her to see what he would say or do, but he just ignored them. The mention of her name killed him on the inside, and he, truthfully, still couldn’t face the reality that they aren’t together anymore.

To say the guys have been concerned for him is an understatement. Yeah, he’s stopped fighting, but he’s still not the same Harry he was when he was with Y/n. He’s constantly thinking, his mind always somewhere not where it’s supposed to be. He drinks more, too, which used to spike up his anger, but now only spikes up his sadness. He has no motivation to do anything besides stay in his house and dwell on the guilt he’s carried.

Getting him to the lake house is one of their ways of getting him to heal. They just don’t know how much this place kills him, though. God, he can’t even look at a single square inch of it without seeing her in his head. How the hell is he going to get through the weekend?

The boys begin to notice how hurt Harry is when he begins to prepare for the bonfire they planned on having later that night. This is Harry’s first birthday after his break up with Y/n, and instead of telling them how truly heartbreaking it was for him, he avoided that topic of conversation completely. He was already depressed enough, he didn’t need to bury himself in it on his own birthday.

While Harry sets up the firewood needed for the bonfire, he’s distant. He’s distracted, not consuming himself in any of the boys’ conversations. They know Y/n’s already on his mind, she’s the only one who gets him daydreaming.

Harry sighs, lifting heavy piles of wood and constructing them into a setup for later. He’s finished now, has been finished for a while, but he just can’t stop. All he can think about is how Y/n isn’t with him, how she’s probably in her new home, sulking, hating him for ruining her life. It’s his birthday, and she probably hates him.

He sighs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward, eyes trained on the ground. He just can’t get her out of his head, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, almost every waking moment he’s thinking about the first time they met.


They were at a party Zayn’s aunt decided to host. It was a casual-formal event, just something special for her close friends to feel welcomed to upon their return to London after being in the states for a while.

Zayn was, obviously, invited. His aunt even insisted on him bringing his best friends, which he probably would have done anyways because he wasn’t too familiar with the family the party was for. The only member he’s ever really talked to was Y/n. She was super shy, very introverted, but was extremely sweet nonetheless. She had talked to Zayn a couple times when they stayed at his aunt’s house simultaneously. Other than that, they didn’t talk much.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna stand in the corner all night?” Zayn approached Harry, a glass of vodka held loosely in his hands.

Harry was pissed he was even in the situation he was in. Social events weren’t his thing, never something he found entertaining. He didn’t care about this stupid family’s return, he didn’t even know them.

“This is the last goddam place I want to be right now” Harry seethed, “I’m pissed off at you for even fucking forcing me here, don’t force me to try and mingle too.”

He let out a slight grumble in Zayn’s direction before making his way to the mini bar. On his way, in the midst of his aggravation, he felt a body collide with his. He groaned, a slight growl in the mix, definitely not in any mood for people to get in his way.

“Watch where you’re-“

“Oh, sorry” the girl gasped, “didn’t see you there.”

Harry’s body immediately froze at the sight of her. She was the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. Her eyes were sparkling with sorrow, lips parted slightly due to the impact. Her outfit complimented her body shape beautifully, leaving him absolutely speechless.

“I- It’s okay” he stuttered, eyes never leaving her, “are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, completely captivated by the most handsome man standing in front of her. God, how he was so beautiful, she would have never known a man like this could ever exist in this world.

“I’m okay” she softly spoke, “thank you.”

Harry insisted on buying her a drink as a way to apologize for not exactly paying attention to where he was going. They chatted for a while, mainly about the party. Come to find out, she was the daughter of Zayn’s aunt’s friends. She hadn’t gone to the states with them, however, she didn’t really make too much of an effort to go and see her in her stay in London.

They were talking quite well, considering Harry definitely did give her an attitude at times and somehow made her feel extremely intimidated whenever he did so. But he had to admit, it was one of the best conversations he’s had in a while, despite his unfriendly character.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry finally asked.

She blushed slightly.

“I’m Y/n. And you?”

“Harry.”

“Oh, you’re Harry.” Y/n said quietly, a hint of realization in her tone of voice.

Harry didn’t like the way she said it, as if insulting him in a way. Which, for him, was a bit of a let down considering there was a moment where he genuinely believed she was different.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped, his voice somehow rougher and more raspy than how it was before, “Like you’re any better?“

His fierce stare upon her made Y/n feel belittled. When he spoke to her, he made her feel as if her existence was the dirt beneath his shoes. No wonder Zayn had warned her, no girl like Y/n could survive five minutes with such an intimidating man.

“Oh- um- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Zayn had told me to stay away from you.” She stuttered, her voice barely above a mumble.

She still refused to make eye contact with him, only for the sake of her safety. She was too afraid to look at him now, when his body seemed tense and eyes filled with aggression. She was an easy pray for people like him to feed on- to get a good kick out of.

“I should go” she muttered, “It was lovely to meet you.”

Almost too quickly, she grabbed her bag off the bar and began to make her way back to where she was before. However, before making it too far, she felt a hand grab ahold of her wrist.

He didn’t know why, but when he had seen the fear set in Y/n’s eyes, an overwhelming feeling of guilt set upon him. It was strange, to feel so much of it hit him over one girl’s reaction. He had done this many times to many people, all of which having a moment of complete vulnerability during his encounters with them. But they didn’t necessarily make him feel anything more than the slightest bit of regret.

“Hey” he whispered softly, delicately pulling her back to where he was standing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Y/n looked into his eyes as he spoke, giving her the reassurance she needed. He was genuine, she could tell, his eyes screamed sympathy.

“It’s oka-“

“But Zayn is right,” Harry continued, slowly letting her arm go “you should stay away from me.”

Before she had any time to react, he had walked away from her.

The rest of the night, Y/n was determined to speak to him again. After meeting him for the first time, she had an innumerable amount of questions she pressed Zayn to answer. Why is he always angry? Is he dangerous? But why was he so nice to me when I walked away?

Zayn explained that Harry wasn’t someone she should be concerned about. All he told her was that he had been hurt one too many times and it caused him to become violent towards those who threaten potential pain. He doesn’t apologize to anybody, and told her that it was quite strange how he had to her.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, that intrigued him so much. Besides the fact she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, she was so easy to talk with. She was quiet, and apart of him liked that about her. The moment he hurt her, he just felt so bad, like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Which is why he walked away from her.

When he saw Zayn later that night, he had asked about her. He asked how they had known each other, asked about her life and where she lived. He was determined to know more about her. It wasn’t even that he just wanted to, but it felt like he had to, like he was being compelled to feel this way toward her.

Right as he was about to leave the party, he had heard her voice behind him

“Harry?”

He slowly turned to look at her. She was looking as shy as ever, fingers fiddling together, cheeks blushed, eyes unsure. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she wanted to try.

“I want to get to know you.” She spoke softly, her hand reaching up to tuck some of her loose hair behind her ear.

He swore his heart melted. The second the words fell from her lips, he was willing to do whatever it took to get to know her.

“I know you said I should stay away from you, but I don’t want to.”


“Harry,” Zayn mumbles, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, “do you want to talk about it?”

Harry didn’t realize he was near tears until Zayn snapped him out of his trance. He didn’t look at them as he returns to placing the logs in piles, contemplating whether or not to disregard his statement or not. Of course he wants to talk about how much mental pain he’s in from not being with Y/n anymore, but he just can’t talk about it. They know that, too, because if he were ready, he would have already.

“Can you stop asking about her, please?” He groans, tossing the last piece of wood onto the top of the pile, “I know you guys know, so please, don’t make me say it.”

He doesn’t bother to look at them, instead, wiping off some of the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel before making his way inside the house to change out of his sweaty clothes. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he’s completely and utterly broken, if he has to be questioned about her again he swears he’ll actually become ill.

Half-heartedly making his way to the bedroom, Harry opens up the duffle bag that sits on top of the bed, that he has yet to unpack, searching through the folded clothes to find his plain gray t-shirt he plans on wearing for later that night. Slipping off his flannel and sliding off the now dirty white tank top underneath, he puts on the t-shirt, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry bin.

Once changed, Harry begins to unpack the remaining clothes out of his bag. His hands are shaking as he does so, breathing heavy when he sets his clothes down on the bed. His stomach twists with sick at the idea of sleeping in this goddamn room.

This was the first place they made love. It was within the first month of being with each other, filled with beautiful romance and bliss. It was the best night of his life. It was the first time he had touched someone so delicately before. The first time his violent hands spread love throughout her body. He said words he never thought he’d say again. Words that he actually fucking meant, words to express how his once cold heart felt warm for what felt like the first time in his life. 


It was her first visit to the lake house. She had just finished cleaning up the remaining dishes, insisting that even though she was the guest, she had to contribute to the clean up after having a barbecue. Harry was sitting by the kitchen table, just watching her, observing her as she hummed an unknown tune, her hair messily tied up on her head. He could hear the boys playing poker in the living room, which he would have played if Harry hadn’t already planned on taking Y/n out near the lake after she had finished cleaning up.

“Alright, Harry, all done.” she smiled, “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”

She made her way toward his sitting frame, taking a seat right on top of his lap. Combing her fingers through his hair, she planted a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose, making Harry’s face blush the color of roses. He reached his arms around her waist, nuzzling her body against his.

“Hm,” he hummed, kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder, “was gonna show you the lake, but almost considering just cuddling you all night long.”

Y/n smiled as Harry leaned in to press a hard kiss against her soft lips. She breathed out heavily, fingertips moving to caress his cheeks, his unshaved stubble scraping against their pads.

“Gross!” they heard Niall call from the living room, “I call the room farthest from yours!”

They both laughed, Harry rolling his eyes at the comment.

“As fantastic that sounds” Y/n smirked, raking her fingers on his back under his shirt, “this is my first time here, and it’s your birthday weekend. I want to explore it with you.”

She leaned down to quickly peck his chapped lips, which soon turned into a wild smirk. His green eyes looked into her brown ones, his fingers dancing along the nape of her neck.

“I can do that for you.”

Once they were by the lake, they sat in silence together. She was cuddled into him, sitting in between his legs, her head rolled back onto his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They admired the nature they were surrounded by, overwhelmed by the feeling of each other’s company under the moon. It felt like a dream, every bit of it did. It was such a surreal moment for them. They didn’t need to speak about anything for a while, being this close to each other, feeling each other’s bodies against one another was enough for them. They felt closer than ever.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. So much so that Y/n ended up on top of him. Her legs were straddling his waist, hands roaming under his shirt, nails scratching at his ribs. Harry had his hands all in her hair, as if trying to pull her closer to him, as if it were even possible.  Her lips traveled down to his neck, kissing every bit of the exposed skin. She just couldn’t get enough. They both couldn’t.

“Y/n.” Harry whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” She muttered against his skin.

“So in love with you.“

It was the first time it was said. They both knew they loved each other once they met. Hell, it was obvious. It didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyways. She said it like she meant it, too, like her heart was blooming as she spoke. God, he even felt her tears against his neck. She was so overwhelmed by their love, the words just slipped out in the moment, but oh how she meant them.

In that moment, he was a weak man. He completely surrendered himself to her love. He was willing for it to have all control over him. He made a promise to himself, to devote his life proving his love for her, proving that he will be the man she deserves in her life, not the man he had other people see.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, fingers gliding down her waist, “I’m so in love with you. I always will be.”

That night, once he had taken her to their room, they made love over and over and over again. It was their first time, opening up to each other in a completely different way than they usually did. His lips captured hers perfectly, his hands fit in hers as if they were, quite literally, made for each other. His name became a mantra, her body became a temple. It was an entirely new level of trust. It was a night that they could have re-lived every day for the rest of their lives, easily, with not a complaint in the world.



Fuck” Harry spits, reaching the back of his hand up to eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears threatening to spill.

He can’t sleep in here, there’s no way he could, not without Y/n. Not without her in his arms, not without making love to her beforehand. His bed at home made him sick enough, but here? He just can’t fathom it.

He begins to shove the clothes he’s started to unpack back into his suitcase. He can’t stay in here another minute. He’ll lose his goddamn mind.

While zipping up his bag, he hears the front door open. Niall’s laugh fills the silence in the house upon his entrance, which gives Harry an idea on how to fix his sleeping situation without raiding the couch.

“Niall!” Harry yells, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Niall makes his way up the steps toward his voice.

“Yeah?!”

“We’re switching rooms!”

“Oh hell no!”

Niall goes into the room Harry’s in, his face strict and serious.

“You and Y/n have fucked on that bed way too many times. I don’t even think you washed the sheets last time you guys did it on there, either. Pretty sure this room has a permanent stench of sex because of you two.”

Harry’s jaw clenches. Normally, he’d have a rational conversation until he got his way, but he isn’t taking this situation lightly. So, instead, he grabs Niall’s wrist harshly, eyes narrowing down at him as he takes a threatening step closer to him.

Niall’s eyes widen as he looks up at him. Not even because a small part of him felt intimidated, but because this is the first time Harry has shown aggression toward anybody within the past couple of months. There is a chance the part he’s been hiding is becoming unleashed, but Niall knows it was easily set off by Harry’s many failed attempts to get Y/n out of his head.

“I don’t think you understand, Niall” Harry seethes, “I may have not laid my hands on anyone in months, but missing Y/n doesn’t only make me sad, it makes me dangerous. I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to be as far away from this room as possible. Now I will not tell you again, we are switching rooms.”

Niall rips his hand out of Harry’s grip, shaking it around a bit from the amount of pressure Harry was gripping it with.

“Alright, Jesus,” he groans, “but you better wash those fucking sheets. I refuse to sleep in a bed full of sex.“

Harry lets out a breath he was holding in, somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to be spending three nights in his own personal hell. 

Adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, Harry slowly nods as he continues to look at Niall. He feels bad for treating him in the way he just did, but the idea of becoming more hurt than he already was is something he wouldn’t be able to live with. 

“Yeah, yeah I will.” He mutters. “I’m sorry, by the way, for that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in this room for another second without losing my mind. I really can’t.”

Niall sighs, slowly reaching up to wrap his arms security around Harry. Being like his brother, he really has felt so bad for what he’s been going through. He can’t imagine the heartbreak, or how he’s even surviving the breakup as well as he has. 

Harry reaches his arms around Niall’s body, hugging him back.

“It’s okay, bud. I get it, you don’t have to apologize. I’ll even wash the sheets for you.”

Harry lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head briefly before detaching himself from Niall and making his way into his room.

Once settled, Harry makes his way down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and take some time to himself. If this weekend is going to haunt the living shit out of him, he might as well try to make himself relax the slightest bit.

With a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand, he opens the sliding door that leads to the porch. Leaning his body against the doorway, Harry admires the sun setting on the lake, watching as the wind moves the leaves in small dance.

For the first time since the breakup, he actually feels at peace.

“She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Liam asks, suddenly joining Harry on the porch as he sips on a bottle of beer, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry rolls his eyes, the accusation of her leaving him must have been the topic of all their conversations. Of course that’s what they thought, it must have been so convenient for them to think Y/n could live a great life without him while he would be a danger to the streets. That’s how much he needed her, but they never seemed to notice how much she needed him, not how Harry noticed.

“Why is everyone so convinced that if we were to ever break up, she’d be the one that called it off?” Harry snarls.

“I was the one who ended it.” He continues, “It wasn’t working out.”

He takes a swig from his beer, eyes still trained on the view of the lake. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation, doesn’t want to relive the night that tore his life apart. Most of all, he doesn’t want to talk about it here, at this stupid fucking lake house, and have to dwell on the pain he wishes he could erase. He doesn’t want to be reminded that he was the one who did this to them.

“C’mon,” Liam sighs, “she was the only thing you had. She was the only one to get this Harry back. You were just afraid she’d leave you first.”

Harry decides not to answer, not knowing how to respond. Of course that’s why he ended it, that’s how he operates. He pushes those away just so that nobody pushes him away. He could deal with anybody else doing it, but if Y/n had left him first, there was no way he’d ever make it through that. Not a fiber in his body doubts that for even a second.

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Liam breaks the silence.

Harry looks down at his beer, circling it in his hands. Why does he keep asking him questions he clearly doesn’t want to answer?

“She said she never wanted to see me again.” Harry mumbles, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left.”

Jesus, Harry.” Liam whispers. “Are you okay?”

Something about that question makes something inside of Harry twist. Is he okay? How can he be okay? He hasn’t seen the love of his life, hasn’t talked to her, hasn’t even heard the sound of her breathing in months. Every part of his body hurts every time he thinks about her because the feeling of being away from her is the most painful feeling in the world.

His life was consumed by her love. His entire world changed when he met her. Nobody else could he lay his hands so sweetly on, could his voice speak so softly to, could his heart swell so greatly for. She changed him, even though he was too scared to admit it to her, she changed him. She gave him hope- gave him a reason to hold onto himself.

Since she’s left, in times when he’s at his all-time low, all he can think about is how his arms felt holding her, how his lips felt kissing her, how fucking relieving and beautiful it was to talk to her, and how he let all of that go.

How can he be okay?

Tears cloud his vision, his hands begin to shake. Oh, God. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over the emotions, he didn’t deserve them. He did this, he caused all this, this was his decision. Yet here he is, again, fighting back the tears that have been so desperate to be released.

“I mean” Harry begins, his voice shaking as he speaks, “I mean, I fucked up everything. I had everything I ever needed and I was the one who let it go. I was starting to think that her leaving me would be worse but now-”

He’s choking back sobs, face wet with unwelcomed tears, “now I can’t stop thinking about how much she hates me right now. She has a home without me, she lives her life without me, she is falling asleep at night without me. And the worst part is that she didn’t want it that way. That was all me, everything is because of me!”

Liam rushes to wrap his arms around him, pulling Harry’s head down onto his shoulder so that he has a place to cry. Harry’s holding him like it’s his ever last bit of hope, almost as if grasping for reassurance for his relationship with Y/n.

“Harry.” he whispers.

“Trust me, Liam, I didn’t want this, either” he continues, words scrambling out of his mouth, “but what else was I supposed to do? And now I’m at this stupid fucking lake house where we talked about getting married and she’s not here with me and I can’t do this anymore!”

He’s completely helpless now. His body is weak, shaking against Liam’s tense frame. He’s in so much pain, so much heartbreak that he’s almost screaming, begging God for some mercy because he can’t take this anymore. The constant thought of her, the constant reminder that he’s never going to see her again rips his heart out every second of every day.

“I just really don’t want to know what it’s like to live another day without her” his voice quivers, “I never do.”

Harry’s wet eyes meet Liam’s sympathetic ones. Liam opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t do this anymore. 

He pats Liam’s shoulder- thanking him for being by his side- before turning around to walk away. He slides the glass door open, walking inside the kitchen to replace his now empty bottle of beer with a new one.

“Wait,” Liam mumbles, “wait, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry stops in his place, slowly turning his body around to look at him. He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, seeming confused.

“Y/n- she’s- she’s coming here tonight.”  

Mute!Tony: Part Three

Okay, finally, jeez. the stubborn jerk really didn’t want this thing to end happy. It was a fight. But I won. And just to warn you, I cried. I never cry. I pretty much have no soul. So, uh, buckle up? I’ll port this to Ao3 another day. Because it is now complete. 

Part One is Here.

Part Two is Here. 


He hadn’t been seen near them since the fight that blinded – that made Tony – when Bucky almost –

Since the day that Tony left Avengers Tower.

There had been a few skirmishes with minor evil, but nothing serious. Nothing they called Tony for.

Nothing they needed him for.

He checked.

Then he set up Jarvis to alert him even if they didn’t, because it didn’t damn well matter if they wanted him there when things got bad. It didn’t matter if they didn’t want to hear him; if things reached DC levels again, Tony would fly his ass into the middle of it.

It wasn’t like they could hate him any more than they already did.

Not after what he’d put them through.

They sent a few messages. Right at the start. Right after he left.

The first of them popped up on the HUD when he was over Nebraska, two hours after walking out of Bucky’s room with his throat in scorching pain from suppressing any further sound. The displayed showed ‘James Barnes’, and a tiny video preview of the man sitting on the hospital bed.

Tony declined the call.

Keep reading

There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it’s actually there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. Their friend followed after.

One returned.

One did not.

The story did not begin there though. It began long, long ago, in the tales and songs of ancestors long gone; passed from mother to daughter and father to son. They did not fade through time, starting anew in each beating heart of the family line.

They reached a young girl with olive skin and hair like raven’s wings. Her dark eyes would shine as her grandmother wove the tales by the fireside.

She spoke to the girl of a woman with fiery hair and burning eyes, who spoke with flames and held infernos between her palms. Perhaps that sparked the love in her for all things she should not, and she strove to make the embers dance, like the one with fire in her hands.

Her grandmother knew in her old, wise bones that this child needed the tales more than most. Their family had always been aware, trusting their intuition had never led them wrong.

So when the girl came to Elsewhere, (For where else could she have gone?) Everyone steered clear (The school gave up on roommates before very long.)

Perhaps it was because of her reputation of playing with fire, or perhaps it was simply fate, but her chemistry professor paired her with a boy who loved to play with ice. They became unlikely friends, she with her burning salts and he with his liquid nitrogen.

“Call me Pyrra.” she said.

“Frozone.” He grinned, white teeth gleamed against his dark skin.

He told her of his girlfriend back in Louisiana who was pregnant with his child: “It’s too soon to know the gender yet.” And she would just smile.

She told him of her grandparents and their small, simple home that stood alone on the reservation and of the wild horses that would thunder by.

They knew what everyone would say, how unwise it was to share so much about themselves, but they were chemistry majors—those rarely got taken.

The two were closer then blood and they both forgot one very important fact— being Taken isn’t the only way to Vanish.

It had been an accident. Frozone hadn’t been paying attention. He had forgotten to count the doors, as he stumbled to his history class after a long night in the labs. No one probably would have known if a fellow student hadn’t seen him stepping through the door—too late to stop his fate.

Pyrra was the first one told, the RA’s decided to wait till the end of the term before notifying his family. They knew it was a futile hope, but anything beat having to make that call.

Pyrra wouldn’t accept this though. She gathered up her craft, and armed herself with salts to burn. She dressed herself in her tribe’s garments and war paint on her face—there is power in being claimed—and set off for the history building when the moonless night was at its darkest.

The door gave way before her and she crossed into when; not where, her friend had gone. She travelled far until she found where the Little People were gathered round. They vanished as she drew near, but she was unshaken by this or fear.

“I have come to bargain for my brother of heart.”

“What will you give?” They whispered in reply.

“A story like none other.” She called bravely into the night.

“There is no story to match his fate, for his return we will need something great.”

Pyrra paused before standing straight.

“Then I will take his place.”

“Is this your choice?”

She thought of her grandparents, sitting at home, they had only gotten electricity a few years ago.

She thought of Frozone’s sisters, all so young and alone thriving off their brother’s hope to give them a better home, on the income of the degree the scholarship would to them all. She thought about his girlfriend, who worked two jobs by day, and attended a community college to get her art degree by night. With that her mind was made.

“It is.”

Frozone stumbled in, lost and confused as if it had only been an hour instead of a day. He caught onto what had happened more than quick enough.

“Pyrra, you can’t do this! Please! It’s my mistake to pay.”

“Call my grandmother and ask for my name, give it to your daughter and your debt shall be paid.”

That was all the time they had, before he was gone and she had stayed. The Little Folk drew near her now; intent on Their new pet, but she held up her hand, she wasn’t Theirs quite yet.

“I have another bargain to make.”

“What now?” They grumbled, discontent and bored.

“My story for my freedom, I chose to stay, but not to be yours.”

“Fine.” they hissed “But the bargain is this: you must keep us entertained till dawn or to us you will belong.”

What choice was there left for her to make? The sky was at it darkest—the hour before dawn. But how that hour stretched on and on!

She dared not tell her family’s tales, or sing to Them their songs, so she told them what she had, her science close at hand.

She told them how a star was born and how precious gems became; all the while between her hands she wove the tales with flame.

When that never nearing dawn finally broke upon the sky, They praised her skills, and kept their deals; blessing her all the while.

Fire-tongue they called her; Flame-speaker, They would say. They kissed her eyes and painted her lips, dressing her in flame.

She smiled and simply said, “That is not my name.”

For she had a new name now, one that no one could ever Take, now that she had given her old name away.

Frozone made it back and tried to keep his word. He called her grandmother who patiently greeted him and told him Pyrra’s name, only requesting that in return he send her things and bring his daughter by some day. She waved him off when he explained that the baby was still too small to tell, whether it was female or male.

Years passed and soon it was time to graduate. Everyone assumed that Pyrra’s grandparents came for Frozone. No one expected Pyrra to appear and collect her diploma as if she had been there all along. Then again, no one mentioned how her eyes were embers now or how her hair had turned from raven black to crimson—so she very well may have been.

         A few decades later a new student comes—a chemistry major that loves to play with fire. She wears a white smile; which is near blinding against her dark skin. She claims she came to prove that her father paid his debt. She won’t say anymore than that. But sometimes she would leave the dorm shortly before dawn on moonless nights with a string of fireworks in her hands. She would always return the next morning, humming ancient songs as she wrote an email to her father.

         During her time a new tale whispers its way into campus lore.

It’s breathed into the ears of distraught students—those with the courage to try and reclaim the Taken Ones are the only ones to hear the advice.

“Come to the edge of the woods on a moonless night, just before dawn and set off fireworks of every color—then wait.”

The ones who listen return with tales about a woman in smoldering garments, blazing red hair, and glowing embers for eyes who would test their resolve. To those who passed she would gift them with words or song, depending on their need, she might even gift them with her fire.

Regardless of what you get, it is always enough to get them back.

Except no one can remember what it was she gave them. They could never remember the tale itself, just that she gave them one; the songs she granted would dance just beyond memory’s grasp; the image of a mesmerizing flame leaving a ghostly impression inside their eyelids. There was only one thing anyone remembers her saying.

“My name is Story—”

There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it is there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. His friend followed after.

He returned.

She did not.

“—and I create myself.”

A/N: I know the Gentry come off a little strange in this. It’s mostly because Pyrra is Navajo and thus the stories she knows are of the Little People; but at Elsewhere, the Gentry are for the most part from Great Britain, Ireland and thereabouts. I tried to blend these two cultures. I’m not gunna lie, I didn’t do great. I haven’t done much with Navajo mythology in a long while. I feel it came off pretty shoddy in this. I’m not trying to offend (I’m part native American myself). Also, I love Chemistry but I suck at it which is why I didn’t go as into depth as I would have liked. (My grammar sucks too, so apologies there as well.)

[x]

ok but the Potter-Malfoy children tho

When Harry began lamenting not being able to have children, Hermione explained that by transfigurating a sperm into an egg long enough for it to merge with a sperm, Draco and Harry could have children, as long as someone gave birth do them.

Luna told Harry she’d gladly give birth to their children and Harry, who had expected not having children at all, began daydreaming non-stop about it.

So you can imagine Harry going CRAZY with the idea of his and Draco’s children.

Which means there was a lot of begging and pleading, but since Draco wasn’t up for it, Harry let go of the idea for a while. Although he really wanted children. But then Draco gifted him with a pair of baby-shoes on their third anniversary.

Just imagine Harry James Potter looking up in surprise at his partner and going… “really? you will?” and Draco nodding, then having an amazingly happy Potter kiss every part of his body for the rest of the night.

Harry clearly won the naming bet with their first-born and Draco went along with it because he wasn’t interested in having children at all in the beginning… but he wasn’t happy about it.

At first, Harry had proposed using the Malfoy name, only because he knew Draco wasn’t really that excited about having children. But Draco was adamant that they use both.

And even though Harry was the one obsessing over having children, Draco is the one going up in the middle of the night to see their newborn child sleep because he’s afraid he will stop breathing. So Harry has to get up and convince him to go back to bed because “he will wake us up in half an hour anyway and he’s breathing, he’s fine, come back to bed, Draco.” but this happens with all their children.

James Sirius Potter-Malfoy, their first-born. With Harry’s black hair and Draco’s gray eyes. Surprising the Weasleys when he calls Draco Papa because, other than Harry and his mother, none of them knew that French is Draco’s first language.

Really, not even Fleur knew. It wasn’t until they got children that Draco started hanging out more with the Weasley’s and they got to know him better.

And a couple of years later, when Draco was proudly showing his child to anyone that came close enough, Harry managed to convince him to go for a second one…

Then came the twins, that wasn’t planned! Scorpius Hyperion Potter-Malfoy, because Harry had already named their first-born. And then Albus Severus Potter-Malfoy… They decided to go 50/50 on that one.

Draco didn’t want to name the child Albus at all, but he still felt guilty for everything during sixth year and finally went along with it. As for Severus… His godfather DID take good care of him, after all. It was only fair.

In the beginning, Draco probably felt that three children was more than enough. But Harry wanted a lot more and when the twins came he was ECSTATIC. Scorpius took after Draco and Albus after Harry.

Albus was daddy’s boy and would throw tantrums everyday when Harry had to leave for work. Scorpius was obsessed with “Mama Molly” and spent more time running after Molly and “helping” her in the kitchen than any of the other Potter-Malfoy children.

Right after the twins were born, Harry asked his husband if he would like to try once more, because he really was hoping for a daughter…

To which Draco surprisingly said “alright Potter, but this is the last” and that was how Lily Luna Potter-Malfoy was planned.

Lily Luna with her blonde hair and enormous green eyes became the obsession of everyone… And she clung to Draco SO MUCH. Honestly. She probably spent 60% of her baby years in Draco’s arms, 30% in Harry’s and the rest in everyone else’s.

She didn’t like speaking English, although she understood it perfectly well. She’d answer people through Draco, Fleur, Victoire, Dominique or Louis instead. Fleur was enamoured with Lily Luna, since her own children preferred speaking English.

Everyone close to Harry began to finally see Draco in a new light. When the two of them had started dating, they had surprised everybody. Especially since Draco didn’t really show the same side he showed Harry to everyone else…

…But people began seeing him through his children. James Sirius seeking comfort from his Papa when he’d fallen from his broom. Draco nervously following the twins when they had just began taking their first steps and not daring to let them out of his sight.

TBH he was worst when James began walking. If the boy was about to fall, he would levitate him and then Harry would try to convince him to stop it. “Draco he needs to do this on his own” “What, so you want our child to get hurt?” “No, but-” “So then he won’t if I keep an I eye on him!” “He will be fine!” “Potter! What if he hits his head?”

…but Harry did the exact same thing when Lily Luna started walking.

But everyone saw how much he cared about their children and although it was still a bit weird that he and Harry were together and EVEN HAD CHILDREN… they realized they liked him.

OK but listen! Draco kept calling Harry “Potter” for as long as everyone knew them (in public) and once, Ginny had asked Albus to go get Harry and Albus had run over to Harry in his unsteady toddler legs and screamed “POTTAAHH” making everyone laugh until they cried.

Took them at least a month to get Albus to call Harry “daddy” instead.

All their children’s first words were Papa.

Imagine how amazingly proud Narcissa is of her grandchildren speaking French. Imagine how much money she burns on those little cretins. And she probably melts every time they say Mémé.

Just imagine sleepy Lily Luna going to her Daddy and asking him “quand nous allons visiter Mémé Cissy?” and Harry sighing deeply and replying “honey, I cannot understand a word of what you’re saying” because, although he knew Narcissa and Draco spoke French to each other, he never knew this would become such a big part of his children’s lives.

But then James Sirius probably enters a phase during his teens in which he doesn’t want to speak French at all and stops doing it for years, although he still knows it since Draco speaks and writes to all his children in French. Just as his mother did to him.

All in all, Harry feels a bit left-out. So he gets two pet snakes and speaks Parseltongue to them every time his children forget he doesn’t speak French at the dinner table.

And his husband happens to have the same reaction Harry got when he first heard Draco speak French… interesting.

They love their children. But the year James Sirius gets his Hogwarts letter, both Harry and Draco sigh in happiness at the thought of all of their children starting school.

too late || isaac lahey

word count: 3954

request:  can i get an isaac imagine where he cheats on you and you two fight and he wont apologize for what he did. and then a mission comes up & it ends where you die in his arms? just really angsty please. maybe base it off of “too little, too late” by jojo?

warnings: lots of angst, breakdown, death

author’s note: this request is from my old blog, but i had the idea in google docs, so here it is! enjoy xo (not my gif)

masterlist

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It’s Only Logical (Prologue)

Okay, so this is a very different thing than what I usually write. It’s basically an AU mashup, and all of our sides are human in this. It’s eventually going to have Logicality and Prinxiety, but not right away. This is just kind of a test balloon to see how you all like it. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: When Logan, a florist with a PhD in botany, decides to hire someone to work the counter in his flower shop, he assumed it would be no big deal. He would get his coffee from his friend Virgil’s shop, as per usual. Ignore his other friend Roman unsuccessfully flirting with Virgil, as per usual. He would continue to live a calm, unruffled life, as per usual. He could never have expected what a disruption one single Dad could make to his neatly ordered life.

Tag List: @cefmua56 (thank you for encouraging me to even try something this big, you’re amazing!) @cleopolitian @romananalogicality @holdnarrytight @daddy-devil @sketchymel @sombraplayslazertag @dear-lover-dearest @musicsavedmefromdeath @pirate-patton @leesacrakon

Prologue: Flowers and Fripperies

“Logan! Come here a moment, love.”

Logan sighed, but closed the book he was reading and set it aside, resigned to forget reading until his mother allowed him to come back to it. He was tall, for a 6-year-old, and remarkably bright for his age. The word “gifted” was often slung about by the various adults in his life. He really didn’t care what labels they chose to affix to him, just so long as they kept letting him study more things.

Logan sidled up to his mother, who was kneeling in the garden in front of one of her many flower beds, pulling weeds. He really couldn’t understand her obsession with these silly fripperies, but they made her happy ergo, they made him happy by proxy.

“Yes, momma?”

“Do you know what this flower is called, sweetheart?” Logan shrugged at his mother’s question. Flowers had never really interested him before. He knew they were the kind with the white petals and the yellow middles, but that’s about it.

“These are Bellis Perennis, or the common daisy. This flower holds a wealth of medicinal properties despite its unassuming appearance.“ Logan leaned closer, intrigued. His mother smiled a little before continuing. 

“When used in an infusion, it acts as a laxative as well as an expectorant. It is also used as a home remedy to help treat physical disorders such as arthritis and rheumatism. Direct application to the skin through an ointment or poultice can aid in healing wounds. And do you know what it means in the Language of Flowers?”

Logan stared at his mother and wordlessly shook his head again, looking at those silly flowers in a whole new light. Flowers could do all of that? And there was a language?!

“It means innocence and loyal love.”

“There’s a language of flowers?!” Logan’s mother smiled gently at his outburst, pulling him in closer. Logan happily breathed in the unique scent of his favorite person in the world, a mix of her favorite perfume, laundry detergent, moist earth and grass. He loved learning new things, and now she was going to teach him something fascinating, he just knew it.

“Of course! The language of flowers, sometimes called floriography, is a means of cryptological communication through the use or arrangement of flowers. Meaning has been attributed to flowers for thousands of years, and some form of floriography has been practiced in traditional cultures throughout Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. It’s a very ancient practice, and the history of floriography is tied with humanity. Every flower in my garden has a meaning, and I planted them all for a reason.” Logan’s mother explained patiently, her smooth voice soothing him as she gently moved him in front of her to see her garden with new eyes.

Logan contemplated the various blooms and colors in front of him, his brow furrowed in thought. He had dismissed these plants as useless frippery, but with this new information he thought perhaps flowers might be the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. This was why he loved his mother so very much! She explained things to him, helped him understand new things. He turned to look up at her, a bright smile forming on his lips.

“Will you teach me about them, momma?” Her answering smile was blinding.

“I thought you’d never ask.”


Logan enjoyed mornings the best. The quiet stillness before the world woke up, the taste of his usual cup of coffee, the scent of his plants all around him. His mother had started him on this path a long time ago, and now he was the proud owner of this delightful florist shop and greenhouse. He ruefully smiled at the framed picture of her on the wall as he put an arrangement together, feeling her loss particularly keenly at this moment.

He had worked very hard to get this place, and when he’d finally had the keys in hand, he knew exactly what to name it. Minny’s Garden, named for his mother, was the only place to get any sort of flower or plant in the entire area and he had worked himself to the bone to get it to that point. It had always just been him, but as he’d started to take off he had recently decided to hire some help to man the shop so he could be free to spend more time in the propagation house, which was more his forte anyway. Customer service was not his thing. People were not his thing, to be perfectly frank. It was one of many things he had in common with his best friend, Virgil. 

Most of the time, he felt customers were more hassle than they were worth. But this time? Early in the morning, before the shop opened, before the customers and the phones barged noisily into his life? This time was all his, and he relished it. 

He glanced at the orders for the day, nothing too challenging there, and sipped his coffee. Virgil owned a coffee shop called The Darkest Roast, and it was one of the most popular places in town. Their claim to fame was that each barista would roast you more than the coffee beans. If you wanted sass and sarcasm with your latte, Virgil’s shop was the place to be. Logan grinned wryly at the “Fucking Nerd” scrawled on the cup where his name should be. 

It hadn’t always been a popular concept, but after The Darkest Roast was featured on the Travel Channel that one time, it had really taken off. Honestly, Logan was pretty sure Virgil had only come up with that concept so that he’d have a solid business model that allowed him to be as rude to others as possible and still make money. The coffee wasn’t half bad either. 

Logan moved around the shop on autopilot, getting ready to open for the day. This was routine for him, had been for years.  Virgil and Roman both liked to tease him about being “in a rut” or “boring as fuck” depending on which of them you asked, but he liked routine, he liked knowing what to expect. There was something very comforting in knowing exactly what today, and every subsequent day, would bring. He’d wake up early, put on his usual outfit, get his daily insult and coffee from Verge while pretending not to notice Roman valiantly trying (and failing) to get Virgil to go on a date with him, then he’d come to the shop and go through his daily checklist. In a few minutes, the door would get opened, the phones would start ringing, and his day would begin. 

He unlocked the door, and turned to walk away, but it was already opening, the bell above issuing a cheery sound.

“I’m so sorry, I know you just opened, but I saw from the sign in the window you were hiring…?” Logan tried to bite down the irritation he felt at having his private bubble invaded so quickly, and turned back.

Whatever response he was going to supply died on his lips when his eyes locked with the man standing nervously in the doorway, feeling a jolt of heat run down his spine. Well. This was new.    

anonymous asked:

Hi hi ~ can you please do one for the rfa + v and saeran where they get in a argument with mc so she withholds sex pretty please

my first raunchy request ahah hopefully i thought of this the way you had it in mind! 


YOOSUNG

  • Yoosung and MC rarely get in fights
  • But when they do it’s often silent treatment that gets broken by the end of the day
  • But this time they had a particularly bigger fight
  • It wasn’t the break up with each other type of fight
  • But they still are bitter with each other because MC was feeling needy and Yoosung was neglecting her for LOLOL
  • Typical
  • You can practically see fumes coming out of MC’s ears as she huffed out a breath and crossed her arms
  • Then she strode over to where Yoosung was playing his game and casually sat on his lap
  • She started grinding on him, making his eyes go wide and his body feel hot
  • His hands started roaming her body and LOLOL was long forgotten
  • Though their makeout session was cut short by a frowning MC who just got up from his lap and plopped straight to bed 
  • Leaving Yoosung still hot and bothered??
  • “MC but we were only starting!”
  • “Good, remember it while you still can, you won’t be getting some anytime soon”
  • Yoosung was pouty and quickly turned off his game
  • Throughout the whole week he was being really affectionate towards her and was constantly showering her with professions of love and cuddles
  • MC was having fun

ZEN

  • Oh boy can you even escape from his beast???
  • MC was feeling jealous of a co-star of Zen’s who had been eyeing him the whole production whilst Zen was as equally jealous of her co-worker who was flirting a little too much with her
  • These two didn’t mean to end up in a fight but they still did 
  • “Fine have it your way! I wouldn’t want to do this but you won’t be having sex with me anytime soon”
  • You can practically hear Zen’s beast whimpering
  • No sex??? Can he even last that
  • The answer was no
  • For the past days, weeks Zen had been feeling so deprived of MC’s love and was in a depressed mood all the time
  • As a shameless man he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s been wanting MC
  • He just goes “MC let’s have sex”
  • “No”
  • And he just sulks in the corner but he knows how to respect her privacy and decision
  • It still is agony though
  • But by the time MC’s finished with the whole abstinence scenario you can bet they’ll be enganging in some rough passionate sex

JUMIN

  • Jumin isn’t really the one who has sex with MC alot
  • He thinks that by limiting themselves they would have to experience the whole thing like it was their first time all over again
  • And boy he is in to it
  • But when one particular disagreement led to MC withholding sex for a while he thought 
  • Yeah that’s fine I think I can handle it
  • He’s more worried about making his princess mad
  • So the whole time he was presenting her gifts after gifts and MC was really flustered at the amount of cash Jumin’s been spending
  • But she still won’t have sex with him
  • She was actually getting mad at the fact that Jumin doesn’t even look bothered by it while she suffers from the lack of touch
  • So she tried to come up with a plan to get him in the mood
  • After coming home particularly after a stressful day at work
  • She prepared a nice bath for him
  • She was already trailing kisses down his neck while she purrs about having his bath ready
  • But he still won’t crack
  • She was about to give up and go when Jumin grabbed her wrist 
  • “Are you desiring me as much as I really desire you right now? I don’t think I can’t control myself any longer so just say the word”
  • yEs DaDdy

JAEHEE

  • Jaehee and MC having sex is such a hot topic because MC’s hot, Jaehee’s hot
  • They’re both just really hot
  • And Jaehee loves it as much as she’s shy to admit it
  • She actually loves doing lewd things to MC and MC to hers
  • But they had problems with their coffee shop
  • And their bickering ended up being an argument that makes it impossible to come out unscathed
  • So MC, in all her anger shouted 
  • “We’re not having sex tonight! or ever!”
  • Jaehee was visibly flustered she spouted that out loud but nonetheless she can handle it as she was as mad as MC anyways
  • Her years of patience working under Jumin didn’t do her justice
  • She became incredible impatient and wanted nothing than this silent treatment between them be over
  • She was apologizing profusely to MC, wanting to be in good terms with her
  • But also because her late night ‘self-love’ wasn’t near satisfying than having MC do it to her
  • Lovely makeup sex to compensate for that soon after

SEVEN

  • Working late at night, having MC watch him like a hawk was boring
  • But MC was determined she keep watch over him as he works while he’s sick
  • But Seven being cranky when sick of course shouted things at MC, his intentions being pure as he didn’t want MC getting sick aswell
  • But MC being cranky aswell due to sleep deprivation took this the wrong way and thus an argument started
  • Still shrouded with a sleepy haze she shouted “No sex!” to his face
  • But the morning after she regretted it
  • She didn’t really mean it but being stubborn who didn’t want to hurt her pride still stood by it 
  • And they actually made a game out of it jesus christ
  • They planned to make each other all hot and bothered and who ever cracks will lose
  • Seven now has steamy good morning kisses on purpose but of course she couldn’t do anything about it because he calls it an “innocent good morning kiss”
  • Then MC rubs Seven’s shoulders, often trailing down his body as he works 
  • “A massage” MC says
  • They keep going on at it
  • Seven ‘forgetting’ his towel after a bath and MC wearing provocative clothing you name it
  • Until they finally had enough and forget the stupid game as they fuck each other senseless
  • Seven gave in first

V

  • Like Jumin, V is not one to have sex all the time 
  • But he loves it and would do anything to make MC happy
  • So when an argument fell upon them he was devastated
  • This sunshine was so heartbroken and guilty that he would ever raise his voice against his love
  • So when MC banned sex between them he was so willing
  • He’s do anything for his precious girl
  • God this man needs more love
  • But when his horny days happened because its possible ok he’s human
  • He can’t help but feel a little jumpy around MC because he wouldn’t want to end up doing something that would only bring harm to the table
  • He would often ignore her until his high died down but MC was worried
  • Then she’d see the bulge in his pants and she’d understand
  • She would only sigh and urge him forward, grabbing his shirt and giving him a deep kiss
  • Because in the end MC felt guilty he had to deprive him of that

Saeran

  • Did you call for aggresive??
  • This is what this man basically is
  • MC came to pick him up from therapy but he was having quite a bad day
  • So when she kept asking him about everything he was ticked off
  • He called her names and said some harsh words and MC was close to tears
  • But she knows he didn’t mean it as he was having a rough time 
  • She was still crestfallen about it so when they both got home her tears slipped and she muttered that they won’t be having sex anytime soon
  • “Fine, have it your way. I don’t really care”
  • But he cares alright
  • He cares about you and your wellbeing so if its a no sex zone she wants then it’s that she’s going to get
  • He found it extremely hard though
  • MC would wear more revealing clothing after that and Saeran would be ravishing her in his mind
  • But the lack of touch made him nearly insane
  • He was craving to feel the curve of her hips and the way she tasted around him
  • And with those thoughts come the tightening of his pants and his sudden shallow breathing
  • He’s getting more irritated as the days go by as MC basically implemented that she’d be touched no where
  • So Saeran had enough and pinned her against the wall, marking her neck
  • He hesitated in his actions though as he gave MC a concerned face, asking for consent
  • Then she nodded and Saeran lifted her up to take her straight to the bed

anonymous asked:

Hi, as someone emotionally abused by a parent and who doesn't read Catelyn as abusive to Jon, what are you basing this on? Particularly considering GRRM has essentially said (with the exception of the incident with Bran caused by grief and sleep deprivation, which he calls a special case) that she wasn't abusive towards him?

This is a case where I think GRRM doesn’t get it. That scene with Jon and Catelyn by Bran’s bedside tells us a lot about what the usual interaction between the two is like, and has been for the years before this moment.

He reached the landing and stood for a long moment, afraid. Ghost nuzzled at his hand. He took courage from that. He straightened, and entered the room.

Lady Stark was there beside his bed. She had been there, day and night, for close on a fortnight. Not for a moment had she left Bran’s side. She had her meals brought to her there, and chamber pots as well, and a small hard bed to sleep on, though it was said she had scarcely slept at all. She fed him herself, the honey and water and herb mixture that sustained life. Not once did she leave the room. So Jon had stayed away.

- Jon II, AGoT

It’s not Bran’s illness he’s afraid of, it’s Catelyn. He’s afraid of Catelyn to the point where he doesn’t feel he can visit his comatose brother. That sort of fear doesn’t arise in a vacuum, nor is it a one-off due to Catelyn’s grief. That’s the previous status quo talking.

Something cold moved in her eyes. “I told you to leave,” she said. “We don’t want you here.”

Once that would have sent him running. Once that might even have made him cry.

So, we know that Catelyn’s spoken to Jon a bit like this before, and that it has frightened him into leaving before - frightened Jon out of a room in his own home. It emphasises to him that it’s Catelyn who controls space in this house. Where he can go in his own home is dictated by whether or not she’s present in any given room (unless, presumably, his father is also present). No wonder he feels like an outsider in Winterfell.

The fact that her rebukes can make him cry is also quite telling, as we know Jon doesn’t burst into tears at the drop of a hat.

Also take note of the “we.”

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

- Jon XII, ASoS

From this we know that Catelyn’s spoken to Robb about how he plays with Jon. This sort of thing is aimed at Jon’s relationship with his siblings, as is the “we don’t want you here.” We get more in other parts of Jon’s PoV.

Robb and Bran and Rickon were his father’s sons, and he loved them still, yet Jon knew that he had never truly been one of them. Catelyn Stark had seen to that.

- Jon IV, AGoT

“I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew.

- Jon VI, ADWD

Catelyn doesn’t want her kids to see Jon as a brother, nor Jon to interact with her kids as their brother; while politically understandable, this mostly failed attempt at relationship sabotage is still emotional abuse.

Back to Jon II, AGoT, and here’s one of the big ones.

“Jon,” she said. He should have kept going, but she had never called him by his name before.

Yep. The woman who knows the name of every stable-worker in Winterfell has never addressed Jon by his name. This is flat out dehumanising and cannot be attributed to Catelyn’s emotions in the moment. That’s explicitly a pattern of behaviour that went on for years before this moment of grief, stress, and sleep deprivation.

I don’t think Catelyn had duties to Jon as a parent. But this isn’t cordiality, bare politeness, or absence in Jon’s life. Quite the reverse. We see from Jon’s PoV that Catelyn was very much present, making sure he knew what she thought of his life in Winterfell, and trying to make Winterfell as little of a home for him as she could manage.

With her deep blue eyes and hard cold mouth, she looked a bit like Stannis. Iron, he thought, but brittle. She was looking at him the way she used to look at him at Winterfell, whenever he had bested Robb at swords or sums or most anything. Who are you? that look had always seemed to say. This is not your place. Why are you here?

- Jon XII, ASoS

Something’s Brewing

Originally posted by dailymcugifs

A/N: Ahhhhh!!!!! It’s my first fic/imagine whatever you want to call it!! I;m so so so excited to post this and I could not have done it without the help of my lovely friends Em ( @spideyparkerimagines), Bee ( @teatimewrites) I would not have been able to do it without you two!! And thank you so much to @holy-smoaks96 for the title! Please please please send in feed back on this because it’s my first time writing for a character(s) that aren’t my own!!

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader 

Word count: 2159

Tips: Bold and Italic are from Y/N, just italic are from Peter!



Peter Parker was running late to school, again. With the late night he had last night, Spiderman duties, hanging out with Ned, cooking and having dinner with May, and doing all his homework, he slept straight through his first 2 alarms.

When the brunette haired boy finally wakes up, he starts running around his room looking for his jeans, shirt and sweatshirt, and shoes. And his backpack.

“Shit!” Peter looks out into the alley outside his apartment window where he thought he left his backpack last night. “Another backpack lost. May’s gonna kill me.”

Peter shakes his head and walks into the kitchen to tell May goodbye and hurry off to school.

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|| my world ||

[Hi could I make a request for Tom Holland where you guys are dating secretly of course. The reader has an obsession with Tessa and she’s on the reader’s Snapchat all the damn time lol. Eventually Tom gets jealous like baby no obsess over me. So they kind of reveal their relationship when he throws the reader over his shoulder and walks away from Tessa saying can’t even spend time with your boyfriend. BTW this Tessa thing has been going on for like months and I imagine tom/reader past a year]

disclaimer: this story does not represent the celebrity’s actual lifestyle.

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**

——

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“He’s all heart,” Laura had said of Clint once, fondly, a little mocking, as he puttered about making spaghetti with a toddler clinging to one shin.

Natasha remembered that, on the plane to Calcutta to fetch Bruce— remembered that night, salad with bottled ranch dressing that little Cooper got everywhere, Clint telling circus stories and burning a pot of coffee, tiny Lila falling asleep on her lap smelling like mud and glue.

She remembered— Clint had plucked his children up and put them to bed, and Natasha had snuck into the kitchen whose layout she had just been coming to know. When they got back from storytime and “no, one more! pwease!” Natasha had been curled up on the couch again and every dish in the kitchen had been clean.

Natasha remembered that when she watched the footage of Loki’s arrival— of his theft of the cube, the scientist, and Clint. She curled up in the bucket seat of a plane whose destination she was trying to force herself to care about.

Clint Barton has heart.

Natasha didn’t want to call Laura. She wanted to be Phil Coulson, and define need-to-know in the way that best pleased her.

When Clint was sleepy, pre-coffee in the morning, he fit his forehead perfectly into the curve of Laura’s shoulder. Natasha knew now where they kept all their mugs, and which ones Lila and Cooper each liked best for bedtime hot chocolate. Clint was crude, sarcastic, cutting, and Laura was even worse— she was just more private with it, quiet and pretty until you got close enough and she dropped a word or two about how she really felt about Nick Fury.

Laura’s number wasn’t on Natasha’s speed-dial, because that would be irresponsible. The digits were tucked in the back of her head. Like with Coulson’s and Clint’s, Natasha knew how to dial them in behind her back, with one hand.

She dialed with the phone balanced on her pulled-up knees while the plane rocked a bit with turbulence. Lila picked up, listing and cheerfully shrill, and Natasha buried her face in her knees because there was no one around to see.

“Hey sweetie,” she said, her voice perfectly level, her eyes screwed shut and her whole body curled achingly in on itself. “Can you put your mom on?”

—  i made a name for myself by dirgewithoutmusic
Yes or No? (Montgomery de la Cruz, 13 Reasons)

~To start off, this is the only thing I’ve written so far that I would even consider writing a part 2 for, if requested enough. This is a sad one lol. It also has a lot of Jeff in it. Thank you again for all of your support. Requests are open!!❤️~

Everyone was staring at you. You were the talk of the school. No matter what group, everyone knew what had happened to you. What had happened to your whole family. Everyone knew that you hadn’t been to school in almost a month. If it weren’t for your needing to be there for attendance, you probably would have stayed gone longer. Well, your parents were a factor too. You were heart broken and sad and confused. Everything imaginable. Your brother was dead. Jeff Atkins was dead.

You remembered that night like it was yesterday. You’d been at the same party as him. In fact, you were completely blasted. Your boyfriend, Montgomery De La Cruz was taking care of you as you blubbered about random things. Jeff had said he’d like to drop you off to your guys’ house while he was out on the beer run that he’d been asked to do. You’d refused, even after Jeff and Monty both persisted that you do so. So Jeff took off into the night. Little did you know, your drunken refusal would be your last interaction with your brother. And a mere hour and a half later you’d get a very frantic call from your mother. You, still out of it, were not comprehending the seriousness of the situation, forcing Monty to take your phone and work out what your mother was talking about. His teammate, and one of his best friends, had been in a fatal car accident. Without a word to anyone, he’d leapt up, throwing you over his shoulder, knowing he didn’t have time for your antics, and ran out to his car.

Five minutes later, you understood. No amount of drugs and alcohol could have ever kept you from noticing the body bag, and your mother hiding her face in your Father’s chest in sheer horror. Nothing was going to take away the fact that your brother was in the body bag, that he was dead.
You remembered screaming at the top of your lungs, eventually trying to run over to the paramedics that were tending to Jeff’s body. Monty stopped you, turning you back around and pulling you into him. You could feel his heart pounding. You kept demanding things, as if they could be done or changed. ‘Give him CPR’ you’d bellowed. ‘Wake him up.’

Monty refused to leave your side after that. His baseball coach had given him four games off without any grief. He felt the loss of Jeff too. Monty said he wanted to wait until you could handle yourself before he tried to go back to normal.

Your parents didn’t say anything when you refused the idea of Monty leaving your bed at night. In fact, Monty had spent every night with your emotionally drained body since the accident.

No one saw it coming, Montgomery caring about someone so much. Jeff had been suspicious of his motives when he’d first asked about you. But there was no mistaking the way his eyes lit up when he saw you in the stands at their games. Or the way he’d talk to himself, as though he was practicing what he was going to say to you. He liked you. And your lack of reluctance towards him scared not only Jeff, but your friends as well. He was, well he was a 'fuck boy’. It surprised everyone even more when he gave you a 'ring on a string’ for your six month anniversary, when the first I love you’s were said.

“Montgomery said he wished he could have walked you to class, Y/N.” Hannah’s voice shook you out of your daze. You nodded, she was right.

“I told him, baseball’s his future. If coach wants him to practice, he needs to.” You spoke in a hushed tone. A sharp contrast to your normally spunky, louder voice. But this was the voice you’d grown accustomed to. There was no reason to be so cheery or chirpy.

“You look nice in your dress.” Hannah continued. She was another person who’s sympathy you’d been receptive of. She seemed genuine, not nosy. You didn’t care what Monty had to say about how she 'got around’. She was a good person.

“Monty bought it for me last week.” You said. You could feel her wide smile on you.

“He takes good care of you, yeah?” She asked. You couldn’t help but smile, you liked the honest answer you were able to give.

“Yeah. I used to take care of him too.” Hannah stopped in the middle of the hallway, and turned you so you had to look at her.

“After everything, I’m sure he’s aware it’s his time to be caring for you, Y/N.” you nodded, not in the mood to wallow in your self pity aloud.

“See your knight in shining armor?” Hannah nudged you, gesturing for you to look forward. You looked up and saw Monty with his friend group. It was good to see him with them. He’d kind of wiped them out of his life to take care of you.

That didn’t stop him from perking up when he saw you walking down the hall. He smiled as he walked towards you. Hannah unlinked arms with you, as if her shift was over. There was a pregnant silence between Monty’s friends and Hannah. God, they were all judging her. And it clearly was making her uncomfortable.

“I’ll see you in gym, Y/N.” Hannah rubbed your shoulder softly before beginning to walk away.

“Stay?” You asked simply. Looking into her eyes. She paused, thinking about it for a moment.

“No, I think you’re in good hands now.” She smiled gently before walking away and out of the hallway.

“I don’t get why you like her so much.” Monty pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“She’s a good person, Montgomery. You all are so mean sometimes.” You whispered.

“Hey Y/N, Monty just doesn’t want her influence around.” Marcus spoke up. You hadn’t seen him since Jeff’s funeral. He hadn’t said much to you. Then again, you two hadn’t ever said much to one another.

“Hey so we’re all gonna workout at the country club later today, you down?” Marcus asked Monty. Your boyfriend traced small circles on your back as you took in the group of people, arms crossed over your chest.

“Dinner with her family tonight, sorry.” Monty said in return. That hadn’t been officially planned, but he did have dinner with you and your parents most nights.

“You haven’t worked out with us in forever, man. It’s the only day that I can get all of you into the club at once.” Bryce continued to try and convince your boyfriend.

“My girl comes first, sorry.” Monty thought that was the end of the conversation

“She can come. You just said how she’s gained all this depression weight and it’s getting to be a problem and-” Bryce was going to talk further, but Monty lunged at him, making him fall to the ground before he could.

“If anything about her EVER leaves your mouth again I swear to God I’ll kill you.” He growled. You pulled Monty off of Bryce, tears already slipping down your cheeks.

“She just lost her damn brother, Jesus.” Jessica, who had been standing by her boyfriend, Justin had rushed to your side out of protectiveness.

“That’s not how it was I just-” you couldn’t even let him finish his excuse.

“Did those words leave your mouth?” You didn’t even look up at him. Jessica has wrapped her arms around you. The hall had gotten quieter. This had officially been made a scene after Monty lunged at Bryce.

“Look princess it didn’t-”

“Answer the question! Did you say my weight was a problem? Yes or No?” Your voice was raised and louder than it had been in a month.

“Yes, but it was just-” you shook your head, laughing to yourself.

“That’s all I needed to know. But, let me relieve you of this said problem.” You pulled your hair to one side. You unhooked the necklace you wore. The necklace that hadn’t left your neck in almost four months. His little promise 'ring on a string’ anniversary gift. When he wouldn’t take it back, you handed it to Zach.

“Make sure he takes this. It’s his decision what he wants to do with it. Maybe he was who every girl in this school warned me he was all along.” You said, turning in the other direction. Jessica followed you, wanting to show you support. Monty tried to walk after you. You had no idea what he was frantically saying. All you knew was that Jessica was yelling at him to get away and that you now felt officially alone in this world.

Stark’s Secret Santa

This is for @lovelynemesis  ‘s Rocking Around the Christmas Tree Challenge

My Prompt: “I was your secret Santa, but I gave you outdated chocolate by accident.”

Relationship: Tony X Reader

Warnings:  Fluffy smut.  (I wanted to write fluff, and if you can’t write fluff for Christmas, when can ya?) 

Summary:  You’re casually dating Tony and he brings you to the Avenger’s private Christmas party, complete with a Secret Santa

A/N:  This is a fluffy little Christmas story with some smut thrown in at the end.  Not what I normally write! 

Tags @thecynicalnerd @marauderice @mac5323 @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @negan–is–god @kellyn1604 @roschelesworld @taintedgenre @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @purplemuse89 @blondesouthsquad @buckyscrystalqueen @kawaiirepublic @captainemwinchester @xbergiex @bellaballanda @theariel85

               The elevator rose and you fiddled with the present in your hand.  There was no reason to be so nervous, but something about tonight felt different. You’d attended several parties as Tony’s arm candy, this one shouldn’t be any different, but when he invited you and mentioned there was a secret Santa it made the entire affair more intimate, something you didn’t expect from your pseudo-boyfriend.  

               You glanced at the present and hoped Bruce enjoyed the wooden slide box you had picked out for him.  It was perfect for a scientist who took his work home with him, something you knew Bruce did on the regular.  The twenty-dollar limit made picking a gift difficult, but you were confident it was the right amount of thought.

               The door dinged and you smoothed down your silver cocktail dress before placing the calmest, natural smile you could muster on your face.  

               “There she is.” Tony walked towards you with open arms.  

Originally posted by theperkybuttofrdj

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fandoms-stoll-my-life  asked:

Can you do the RFA + V with an MC who CANNOT sleep in a house alone. Like she's paranoid about someone breaking in, watching her in her sleep, etc. So by the party she's sleep deprived and close to passing out.

Wow look at cat mom actually doing stuff!! Much productive such write!! Sorry for not being active lately due to some personal matters and overall crappy health, but I promise to try my best from now on.

Onto your request: Yikes I want to wrap this MC in a blanket and put her to sleep like omg who gives a damn about this party lol. Anyways, here you go, love! I ignored everything that happened in each party because that would’ve changed… well, your entire request, especially in certain routes. Just think of it as a neutral party? Taking Jaehee’s route as an example.

- Admin Cat Mom.

Yoosung

  • the moment is perfect and this baby boy is more than ready to become a Manly Man and give you that well-deserved kiss you both have been waiting for.
  • and he’s going for it, he wraps his arms around you and leans in for a kiss, but right before closing his eyes he notices how drained you look.
  • the bags under your eyes can be seen from space oh dear god.
  • of course the stupid kiss doesn’t matter anymore.
  • and he beats himself up for not noticing it before?
  • immediately starts interrogating you.
  • sweetie you’re not helping let poor MC at least process the questions.
  • instead of answering any of them, you mumble something unintelligible and hold tightly to his arms.
  • you got like two hours of sleep last night, your eyelids are heavy and your whole body feels like jelly so you’re thankful for the extra support.
  • but while your busy letting yourself go in his arms, he straight up freaks out because—are you passing out right now, MC?
  • oh god oH GOD PLEASE DON’T.
  • WHAT DOES A MAN HAVE TO DO HERE TO GET A CHAIR FOR HIS LADY
  • once he takes you somewhere quiet, gets you a chair, and makes certain you’re somewhat more stable, he squats down in front of you and holds your hand, stroking it softly as he listens to what’s been troubling you.
  • if only he would’ve known sooner…
  • “I’m so sorry you had to go through that by yourself, MC.”
  • you can see true anguish in every corner of his face.
  • after a brief discussion with the rest of RFA, he offers to take you home and promises to stay with you until you feel better.
  • and even though he doesn’t say this out loud, he would gladly, ahem, sleep right next to you if it’ll make you feel safe and sound.

Zen

  • this place is so crowded and noisy and holY SHIT you look like you’re dying, MC, what the hell happened?
  • he’s eavesdropping on you and it’s quite evident you’re trying your best to make conversation with guests but you’re so disconnected from everything, stuttering and fidgeting and spacing out.
  • so he approaches you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder to help you out a little and pull you back to earth.
  • and… you startle at his touch and screech, he screeches as well and backs up, everybody goes quiet, things get awkward, suddenly the concept of spontaneous combustion sounds nice and fitting.
  • in order to avoid making things worse, though, he smiles for the guests, suggests them to try the food and takes you somewhere less crowded.
  • it’s not really a pleasant talk because you feel so dizzy and you’re afraid he may start nagging you for not getting enough sleep.
  • yet not surprisingly enough, he gets mad at everyone but you.
  • he’s mad at seven and v for leaving you all alone in someone else’s apartment and refusing to reveal your location
  • what was the point of that anyway?
  • he’s also mad at himself for not being there for you.
  • and while he rattles on and on about RFA’s irresponsible and careless members, your legs start feeling heavy and your vision gets blurry.
  • whoops, there goes MC who is now all passed out on the floor.
  • OH SHIT.
  • nope nope nope he’s getting you out of there rIGHT NOW.
  • not a chance he’s letting you stay at the party, you need a good ol’ beauty sleep to recharge and get better.

Jaehee

  • she’s been in your position more times than she can count.
  • it’s pretty obvious she recognizes all the signs of a sleep deprived individual.
  • and she’s honestly the sweetest and most caring of them all?
  • like honey, you’ve done more than enough for this huge success of a party, you’re even trying to socialize and interact with guests while struggling to stand and walk.
  • everything’s been taken care of and the guys are handling the party just fine, you don’t need to worry and you’re going home right. now.
  • because having you wander around while close to passing out could do more harm than you leaving early.
  • when she mentions driving you somewhere nearby rika’s apartment so you can get some sleep, your face immediately drops.
  • oh…?
  • she’s quick to pick up your reaction and asks for an explanation.
  • after you provide her one, she deadpan nods and grabs you by the arm.
  • okay then it’s settled, she has no choice but to take you to her place.
  • when you both arrive, she puts you to bed and offers you a warm cup of tea to help you relax before heading out.
  • except she barely makes it two inches far from her bed because there’s something desperately pulling her sleeve.
  • she hesitates for a moment and urges you that you’re safe here, there are no bomb threats or possible intruders or hackers slash kidnappers waiting for the right time to take you away.
  • plus they’re expecting her at the party.
  • but… you’re persistent and you seem genuinely distressed thus she can’t just go on with her day knowing you’re feeling unsafe.
  • so she lies down next to you and lets you rest your head on her chest, and she promises to stay by your side until you wake up.
  • her heart is pounding like crazy and her cheeks are bright red, poor thing may explode at any given second but it’s okay it’s all good, it feels nice having you this close.
  • you soon fall asleep together and it’s the cutest thing.

Jumin

  • as soon as he arrives, he eagerly starts looking for you.
  • an alluring being among the crowd he simply cannot wait to meet, where can they be? you can tell how anxious he is just by looking at his left cuff.
  • he’s fidgeting with it nonstop.
  • he asks about your whereabouts to every RFA member and guest he encounters without any luck.
  • until he bumps into seven and pops out the same question yet again.
  • “there,” he answers while pointing at his back.
  • five seconds later you crash into him, both of you losing balance for a moment.
  • “are you drunk, MC?”
  • though harsh and quite direct, he tries to be discreet about it.
  • and in his defense, you do look a bit drunk and disoriented.
  • this isn’t how he imagined getting to meet you.
  • still, he’s a gentleman resolved to help you avoid embarrassment and discomfort, and instead of dwelling on the reasons behind your current state right there, he escorts you outside to have a talk.
  • what? what do you mean you’ve barely slept in the past two weeks?
  • he refrains from lecturing you because 1) you look like you could faint at any minute and 2) he doesn’t want to upset someone who’s already upset enough, it’d be no help.
  • “you should’ve called, why didn’t you? I would’ve kept you company.”
  • you know it’s serious when executive director jumin han is willing to sacrifice his sleep and tight schedule just to make sure you’re having a good night’s sleep.
  • but since “it’s no use crying over spilled milk” his words and he has zero fucks to give, he suggests fleeing from the party.
  • no worries he ends up calling jaehee to let her know you’re feeling unwell.
  • after getting into his car, you fall asleep on his shoulder.
  • he stays still and watches you sleep in silence, a cute, barely noticeable smile across his face.

Seven

  • oh noes.
  • he’s seen that “do i want death or am i already dead who the hell knows at this point” look you’re pulling off.
  • where, you may be wondering? oh, that’s right, in the fucking mirror every goddamn night for the past fifteen years of his life.
  • you look like a zombie wandering around the room, you’re bumping into people and making a mess your way.
  • you haven’t even realized there’s a wine stain on your pretty clothes.
  • YOU. NEED. HELP.
  • otherwise, he’s afraid you’ll pass out cold and the last thing you need right now is a concussion, so he comes up to you and greets you with one of his dumb jokes in order to lift your spirit.
  • it kinda works but you’re still looking… well, dead, and moody.
  • a moody zombie? yeah, that’s about it.
  • refusing to give up on you just yet, he grabs your hand and promises to stay by your side throughout the whole night so you can lean on him, literally, whenever you feel like you’re about to faint.
  • what was that? do you want to leave early instead? that’s cool too, jaehee will take care of everything don’t you worry, my brave soldier.
  • defender of justice seven zero seven’s got your back!!
  • you eventually leave the party together but you don’t go very far, instead, you lay down on a park nearby to contemplate the sky.
  • he’s telling you stories about the clouds idly passing by when he hears a sweet little snore.
  • it’s you!! you’ve fallen asleep on his chest, aw.
  • all the blood in his system gathers on his cheeks and he is now all red, you can’t tell his hair apart from his face.
  • and in order to keep you warm and well protected, he embraces you with both arms and kisses your head.
  • later on he falls asleep too because he’s just as sleep deprived as you.

V

  • surprise surprise! much to everyone’s expectations, lovely boy has decided to show up to the party!
  • and he’s so excited to meet you after hearing so many positive things about you and how you’ve put every ounce of energy into RFA’s party.
  • he needs to thank you properly!!
  • spotting you amidst the guests isn’t really hard as there’s a bunch of people gathered in the center of the room making commotion.
  • apparently, someone has fainted? he can hear yoosung screaming and asking people to make some room, zen is yelling something about CPR, and jaehee is rushing to the crowd while dialing what it seems to be 119.
  • what in the world…?
  • determined to do some damage control, he hurries to reach jaehee and tries to find out what the hell is going on.
  • “it appears MC has passed out and we don’t know the reason.”
  • no need to say more.
  • he kindly but firmly asks people to stay back so that you can get some air, and he also sends yoosung to get you a chair to sit on.
  • zen is in charge of bringing you a glass of water because boy needs to calm the eff down.
  • five minutes later he manages to sit you upright in a chair, away from the crowd and where you can get some fresh air.
  • six pairs of concerned eyes are piercing right through you while you try to regain consciousness, only one of them hidden behind sunglasses.
  • you may not see those eyes clearly, but they carry the most guilt out of all of them.
  • in his usual soft caring voice, he does an attempt to ask you what’s wrong, and as he gets the answer he was expecting, he frowns and strokes your hair.
  • “why didn’t you say anything? we could’ve helped you.”
  • were it not for the mess he’s sunken in thanks to rika, he would’ve gone to the apartment himself to make sure you were getting some sleep.
Song of Themyscira | Seven

Summary: As an Amazonian warrior, you’re invited to Man’s World by Diana Prince. Ares, angered by the situation, decides to send an army, led by his son, to disrupt the peace. Will James be able to follow through, or will the Amazonians keep the peace?

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Amazon!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k (wowza)

Warnings: Language (for now)

A/N: Update! This one is a long one, so I hope you enjoy :) s/o to mi amor, abril, for being with me every step of the way w/ this fic || SoT masterlist

Originally posted by n-barnes

(this gif reflects James’ mood at a certain point in the chapter - try and guess when and where!!)

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3

Okay, another prompt is here! Sorry for not updating sooner, it’s a long fic once again lol! It is sad, angsty (I was listening to a lot of Placebo while writing so yeah) and it turns hot and heavy close to the end but then some fluff concludes it; basically it has it all! :P
Warning for mentions of violence, mild language and sexual themes. I hope you like it darlings and you don’t mind that I combined your awesome prompt ideas! Thank you so much for requesting! And to the rest of you, enjoy! <3

A small summary to tie the three prompts together: After an abrupt break up, Betty is left broken and confused by Jughead’s sudden behavior. Once finding out that he had joined the infamous gang of their small town, the Southside Serpents, Betty sets her mind to sneak into their lair with the only way she knows best. Along with the help of a sudden ally that she comes across on the way, they vow to save Jughead’s soul at all costs. 

(The long dialog in italics is a flashback)


Stars hide your fires;

Let not light see my black and deep desires.

The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be

Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see…

The black velvet of yet another eerie night had spread over the small town of Riverdale, the otherwise picturesque scenery of the alight sky now fearful and pitch black, an ominous sign and a bloodcurdling setting. It coordinated with her jet leather attire, her raven hair and the ghastly temperament that oozed from the cold-blooded sound of heels against dirty and wet asphalt. “Stars hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires…” Every click of stiletto punctuated each word her mind whispered on a loop to the depths of her subconscious, green eyes shining deadly through the darkness, like those of a wolf in hunt for its prey.

If anyone were to run into her on the street, they wouldn’t recognize her; nothing tied her with the image of the nonpareil younger daughter of the Cooper clan. Betty Cooper was dead, locked in the comfort of lavender and chamomile amongst collared sweaters and preppy knitted cardigans. For how long it was yet to be decided but, for tonight, the golden-hearted girl that everyone left behind was put to sleep under the naivety of false ambition and hopeless dreams. Her alter ago was there to deal with the mess the tedious angelic spectrum of her character always seemed to make.

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