i am writing a fanfic

I live for Harry flirting with Malfoy to fluster him. For him getting more and more cocky about it. To the point it’s a joke to everyone else, but he can’t stop, because the ability to throw Malfoy off-balance has his heart racing. It’s like flying.

Until one day, Malfoy has had enough. With barely any words, he turns it back around. Steps close, lowers his tone, softens his expression. Suddenly, he’s speaking to Harry the way Harry had been talking to him. And Harry wants to deny it, he tries, but Malfoy’s standing too close, and he’s looking at him like that, and those words he’s saying sound familiar.

And Malfoy smirks, claims victory, and saunters off.

But Harry is still standing there, leaning against the wall off a corridor that’s out of the way. Breathless. Heart racing. And why had he followed Malfoy into that corridor anyway?

And he realises, he’s turned on. And disappointed. Disappointed that Malfoy walked away.

For weeks, Malfoy ignores him. Not a glance, not a word. Harry can’t catch his eye. He can’t tease and taunt him. He becomes bored. Restless. He’s being mocked for it, and he get’s angry, but he realises now that they’re right.

And he can’t stop thinking about how close they were standing, when Malfoy turned it around on him. And he can’t stop staring at him. All the time.

Christmas break happens, and when he comes back, he does something stupid, drastic. He manages to get Malfoy’s attention again. Only this time, this time, the flirting is deliberate. He catches Malfoy’s gaze, he holds it, and he makes sure Malfoy knows that he’s absolutely aware of what he’s doing.

And his heart is in his throat. Because it’s Malfoy, and there are so many reasons to not do this. But it’s Malfoy, and he never feels more alive than when he’s looking at him, and Malfoy is looking back.

And Malfoy is looking back.

Long Way Down // Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of everything really

The end had finally come and despite the amount of time you spent preparing for it, it still felt like a punch in your stomach. The knot in your throat was painful and your lungs still struggled for air to breathe. Tears clouded your eyes and turned your vision blurry until his face was unrecognizable.

“You’re a coward,” you cried. “A fucking coward!”

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silk | chapter eight

Originally posted by wonhoslilmonster

chapter song | masterpost | next chapter

ceo au - jimin x reader - angst | smut

word count : 4.9k

warnings : smut

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angelfacehobi  asked:

BTS reaction to their s/o waking up in a fright from a nightmare (and consequently waking them up too)

omfomf thank you so much for requesting! this is my first time writing one of these and I sort of took it in a different direction, so I really hope you like it!


    Weak whimpers filled Jin’s sleep induced head, rustling accompanying the terrified noise. His tired and aching body told him to fall back to sleep, but when you woke up with a loud gasp, sitting forward, he was wide awake. He sat up.

    “(Y/N),” he whispered, “(Y/N), everything alright?”

    You turned to look at him and his heart shattered. Taking in your terrified eyes, your sweat covered body, hearing your short breaths, Jin felt his throat constrict as well. He stared at you, until it clicked that you were too terrified to do anything. Your body shook and you stared at him helplessly and Jin finally reached out.

     Grabbing one of your hands and brushing away a strand of hair, Jin kissed your temple.

     “Everything is going to be okay,” he reassured.

     You two sat like that for a couple of minutes until Jin felt his eyes droop once more. Dragging him with you, you fell back into the mattress, where he hugged you tightly.

Originally posted by bangtan


    Your eyes flew open and you shot forward, funky shadows filling your sight.

    Your shaky breathing and hammering heart filled the silence.

    Unbeknownst to you, the sudden movements woke up Yoongi. He peeked through his eyes to see your shadow curled up into a ball.

    Tired and aching from the day’s practice, Yoongi didn’t move from his spot, but he shifted just enough to reach out and grab your hand, squeezing it.

   His grip didn’t loosen until you nestled back by his side again, where he sleepily nuzzled closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Originally posted by mvssmedia


    Hoseok woke up to excess heat by his chest that wasn’t there before. You were unconsciously shifting closer to him, repeatedly shouting out strangled “no!” Hoseok didn’t want to wake you up but then your fits got violent. You thrashed about, your shouts increasing in volume.

    “(Y/N),” Hoseok tried, latching onto your shoulders. “(Y/N). Wake up.”

    “Stop! No! Stop it!”

    “(Y/N)!” Hoseok called, shaking you slightly.

    His voice cut through your dream, everything suddenly stopping. Heart hammering, you finally woke up from the nightmare and Hoseok filled your vision.

    The feel of his warm hands gripping your shoulders, his bedhead– you took in all of Hoseok and you started tearing up as his worried eyes searched your face.

    His expression immediately changed, softening and letting out a quiet “aw.”

    With that tiny expression, it made your chest tighten and you felt your lips quivering. Hobi smiled softly and reached out.

    “Shhh shhh,” Hoseok shushed, pulling you into a hug and stroking your hair. “There there, it’s over now, you don’t have to worry. I’m right here for you.”  

Originally posted by notdeletednotused


    A shout escaped your lips and you were wide awake, your heart thudding in your chest.

    Namjoon heard the shout and immediately sat up, frantically looking around. His sleepy eyes finally landed on your curled up form and he blurted, “Is everything alright?”

    You flinched at his loud voice and he noticed, quickly falling back into bed with you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

    “I’m sorry, that was loud,” he apologized. “You just had me worried.”

    You couldn’t reply, the nightmare replaying in your head.

    “Everything okay?”

    “Nightmare,” you shakily whispered.

    He sighed and closed his eyes, moving closer so your foreheads were touching. Little did he know that his peaceful face calmed you down, you just staring at his face.

     “Well, everything is okay now,” he whispered, his breath tickling your nose. “I’m here, you won’t get hurt.”

Originally posted by jimintensify


    Your head rang as blood quickly rushing to your head when you sat up. You groaned, clutching it to stop the ache and took deep breaths to calm your erratically beating heart.

     “(Y/N)?” a sleepy voice called out to you.

     Slowly, you turned around, catching Jimin running his hand through his hair, sitting up.

     You opened your mouth to say something but the memories of the the nightmare rushed through your mind again and panic rose in your chest.

     Sensing the sudden panic, Jimin reached out to cup your face in his hands to pull you closer to him. His thumb rubbed against your cheek.

     Looking deep into your eyes, he said, “Whatever it was, you’re awake now. Nothing will hurt you. I’m here. Take a deep breath. I love you jagi. You’re going to be okay.”

Originally posted by sugutie


    Taehyung woke up to cold air as the shared blanket was yanked from him, leaving him exposed. Your strangled shouts caused panic to rise up and he was fully awake, only for you to hit him in your violent thrashing. The blanket was caught underneath him and you tossed and turned, eventually pulling the both of you off the bed. Flailing, Tae quickly shifted so that he hurt you in the least possible way when you hit the floor.

    You finally woke when pain shot through your back, your limbs tangled in the blanket and you found yourself staring up at a worried Taehyung. His bangs covered his eyes, casting shadows across his face.

     Tears immediately pricked your eyes and Tae sat up, pulling you with him. Using the blanket, he wrapped it around your head and tugged you closer to him, kissing your nose. Then your cheek. Then your temple. And then pretty much the rest of your face.

    “It’s over now, (Y/N),” he reassured before pecking your quivering lips. “Everything is okay.”

Originally posted by ta3taetae


    Whimpers escaped your lips and you tossed and turned, constantly hitting Jungkook in the process. Jungkook stirred but didn’t fully realize the situation until you screamed. He bolted upright, his head whipping over to look at you, still thrashing in your sleep.

    “(Y/N),” Jungkook called. “(Y/N)!” You continued to flail, so he reached out and grabbed your arms, squeezing them. His grip pulled you from the nightmare, and you shot forward, nearly colliding heads with Jungkook.

    You took in his sleepy form but a shadow behind him caught you eyes and the nightmare flooded into your thought again, nearly losing sight of what was right in front of you.

    Jungkook opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but the moment he saw your face contorting back into fright, he immediately starting rubbing your arms, softly saying you name, flashing a reassuring smile, and brought you closer to him, trying to keep you in reality. Resting his head into the crook of your neck and fully wrapping his arms around you, he repeated that everything was alright. 

     You stared ahead, feeling his warm embrace and the hot tears in your eyes, but not fully being present.

     But once you finally calmed down and returned his embrace, he lied back down, softly singing “Butterfly,” as that was the first song that popped up in his mind.

Originally posted by apgujeon

A list of things I want for Lena Luthor:

1. Kara is her soft girlfriend. She comes by every morning to bring her a cup of coffee and kiss her softly on the lips. Then when she is almost out of the door, she turns around and races back, kisses her a bit more chastely now and leaves. She does this every morning. Without fail. 

2. Kara picks her up from work most nights. Lena tends to forget the time and often Kara just walks in, scoops her up  and flies them both right out of there. Jess has stopped asking questions on how Lena manages to disappear most nights. Lena has stopped arguing as well, she’d rather be with Kara anyway. 

3. Kara sends her text messages throughout the day, mostly consisting of memes, and Lena doesn’t get a single one. Kara knows this but refuses to explain them to her. Lena often starts kissing her then, straddling her lap and when Kara’s arms wrap around her neck, she pulls back a little and whispers, “explain the meme.”  

4. Sometimes Lena gets shy around Kara. She’s not used to the whole relationship thing and sometimes it scares her how quickly she has fallen. But every time she doubts herself, doubts whether she is deserving enough for this person that is pure light, Kara is there. Kara is always right there to kiss her on the nose and forehead, every kiss accompanied with a whisper of, “I love you. You are enough. You and I deserve this.”

5. Kara makes them watch Mamma Mia at least once every month. And while Lena rolls her eyes at her every time she proclaims that “it’s time.” She secretly loves it, sings along to the songs under her breath and loves the way Kara always ends up with her head in her lap, dramatically singing into the remote held in front of her mouth like a microphone. She loves that her girlfriend is a dork. 

6. Alex Danvers rings her frequently about mathematical or technical issues and she loves that she is being included in this. She signed a million papers at the DEO and knows all the access codes and Alex always calls her an honorary member and it makes her heart swell every time. 

7. She is always invited to game night and Winn always throws peanuts at her whenever she beats him at monopoly. She acts like she is offended every time but it’s always accompanied by a smile. Because she knows she is welcome here. She knows they are her family too now. 

8. Kara shows her the stars whenever there is a clear night. She knows all the formations and names of stars that aren’t even visible from earth. Sometimes she traces those foreign constellations onto the skin of Lena’s arm and it always elicits a shiver where her fingertips brush over her skin. 

9. She asks Kara about Krypton a lot. And Kara always answers, tells her Kryptonian bedtime stories and sings her lullabies in their strange tongue and Lena always sits there, amazed that somehow she’s found this girl even though statistics would have suggested it to be impossible.She knows that the possibility of Kara being in her life was close to zero, but somehow space has brought her to her anyway. And sometimes, when Kara is asleep, she steps to their bedroom window, looks at the full sky above them and whispers a silent thank you to the stars for keeping Kara safe on her journey to her, for guiding her home.

10. Lena visits the holograph of Kara’s mother a lot and asks her to teach her Kryptonian. When she proposes to Kara, she hires a planetarium and puts up all the Kryptonian constellations on its dome. And when she asks the important question she does so in her girlfriend’s native language. Kara cries for about ten minutes before kissing her senseless, tasting like salt and happiness and home, whispering, “yes, oh Rao, yes,” over and over again.

Secret Love Song

Hello, everyone! I’m writing again for the first time in about a year and I am so excited. I’ve been playing with this idea for a while but I finally got the motivation over last few weeks. ( i wonder why ;) ) There’s a bit more to it and I was considering posting a Part Two. So let me know if you want to see that!

It was all happening for him. Having a solo career was something Harry had dreamed of since he was a kid – it was what he had showed up for at the X-Factor audition in the first place. He’d been more than happy to have the opportunity to be a part of the band and to experience everything with boys by his side. But now, for the first time in 7 years, his dream had finally become his reality.

The day had come for his debut album to release, one of the most anticipated days in the industry, and you couldn’t find anything suitable to wear to the release party. Some of your dresses were nice enough but nothing screamed important industry party to you.

You throw yourself down on your bed, burying your face deep into your pillow, figuring maybe you wouldn’t go. Between the music executives, press and fans, Harry would be tied up all night anyway. And the fact that the public still didn’t know about the two of you wouldn’t help much. He’d practically begged you to come though but his insistent invitation had a bit of a damper to it when he gently reminded you, you’d be going as his sister’s date. But even so, he swore up and down that he wanted you there, whether you got to be together or not.

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I am FINALLY done with this. Hope you guys enjoy it, please let me know if you do, your comments are very much appreciated. Lots of love, B xx

Originally posted by hotsauceharry


It’s all he can see when he looks at you. It’s the color that paints your lips and it’s the only thing he’s been able to think about all night long.

When he picked you up earlier tonight, on your way to a dinner with a group of friends, his eyes had zoomed in on your lips the second you opened the car door to greet him - while you stepped inside and leaned in to say hello, placing a chaste and pert kiss on his cheek, his eyes followed your lips as you came closer.

“What color is that? Crimson? Bright red?” Is what he thinks, the shades of it swirling in his mind. He doesn’t know and he’s tempted to ask you but to do that was to show he’s been paying more attention to you than he’s got the right to and maybe it’d give you the wrong impression - he’s not interested in your lipstick but more on the way the color makes your lips look full and incredibly inviting.

Biting onto his bottom lip after greeting you quickly, his eyes fleet to his rear view mirror, spotting the patch of skin close to his jaw where you had placed your kiss - a lipstick mark remains, the shape of your lips stamped onto his skin in a bright shade of red.

The sight gave him goose bumps and he couldn’t explain why, but when you leaned forward on his front seat, the visor pulled down so you could look in the mirror and make sure your lipstick was not smudged, Harry felt his stomach sink - images of you on your knees, eyes hazy and lips swollen while you suck on his cock with greedy, swollen and red painted lips, leaving a stain on his length, invaded his mind without his permission and he feels his cock twitch in his pants, heat rising underneath his skin.

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Name Calling

For @leiascully xf writing challenge prompt: lists. It’s not a list, but it’s about a list. I hope that counts? I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, so…

Mulder’s chaos. That’s the only way to describe his filing system. Or lack thereof.

Scully wouldn’t have this problem if Mulder were here, or if he were at least answering his phone. The cell is probably either dead or he’s lost it again. He really needs a system, Scully thinks as she tries to understand the connection between haunted beach resorts and possessed guinea pigs. According to Mulder, there seems to be one.

Twenty minutes ago Skinner called their office to let them, or rather Scully, know that he needs the report on their latest case. Immediately. Utmost importance. And more words Scully didn’t hear, already frantically going through Mulder’s desk. She should not have let him write that report. Had she done it herself, she could already be on her way to Skinner’s office. But no. The one time she insists on him doing the paperwork, she regrets it.

So here she sits, among files, reports, several bills, a Playboy magazine from 94 and even more National Geographics. The report, however, is not here. Skinner will call again in five minutes, tops. Since Mulder is not here, she will get yelled at all by herself. Just what she needs today.

Lost in thought, Scully unfolds a piece of paper. At first she thinks it’s merely a scribbled note, nothing important. But it’s a list, a long one. She quickly scans the many names neatly categorized into girls and boys. Samantha and Melissa are at the top and they’re both crossed out. Too much history, she deciphers the scrawled words next to them. Scully reads through all of them; from Abigail and Adam to Xenia and Zachary. Some have comments right next to the entry; Mulder has terrible hand writing and some of it is no longer readable. Scully doesn’t notice her tears until one of them falls down right down at the end. Mulder?, it reads there in black ink, or would she prefer Scully? The names blur together, eventually.

Baby names.

Mulder made a list of baby names. For their child.

“Hey Scully, what’s up with Skinner? He just- Scully?” Mulder barges in, holding two large coffee cups and stops when he sees her slumped over the chaos on his desk.

Scully can’t stop the sob that escapes her and Mulder is by her side in two long strides. He puts the cups down on the desk and crouches in front of her. He gently tips the chair so that she’s facing him. His hands, warm and large, rest on her knees as his eyes finds hers.

“Scully, what happened? Is it because of Skinner?” She shakes her head, her tongue too thick, her throat too tight to talk. Instead she hands him the list.

“Oh.” His voice is as gentle as his hands as he takes the proffered piece of paper. He looks at it for a moment, the ghost of a smile passing over his face.

“I forgot about this.” Mulder’s index finger gently touches one of the names and suddenly nothing matters as much as this to Scully. She needs to know.

“What’s your favorite?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Uhm, I had several favorites depending on, well…” He refuses to look at her, shy now, but she knows exactly what he was thinking about.



“No, I mean… their name, it would have been Mulder.” His eyes light up in surprise for a moment, soften, and he smiles up at her. Scully used to think, when there was still possibility to dream, that their baby would smile exactly like that. Same eyes, same beautiful mouth. The picture shatters in front of her once again, as it always will, but Mulder’s voice, warm and gentle, keeps her here, keeps her sane. It does now as it did then months ago, when their dream, her baby, wasn’t to be.

“Jake for a boy. Jake Mulder. I felt that… it felt like a good name, you know? Or William.” Scully raises her eyebrows and he nods, chuckles.

“I know, I know. Plenty of Williams in our families already.” Mulder stares at the list again, at their lost possibilities. There would be no Jake Mulder. No William Mulder either.

“And for a girl?” The question hurts as she presses it through her constricted throat. She needs to know, though. They never talked about it. Let’s move on, she’d told him the morning after breaking down in his arms. Back then it had seemed like it had been her loss; only hers.

“I thought maybe… Melinda. It’s not Melissa, but it’s close and I thought-” Scully’s painful sob tears through his words and makes him pause. The list slips from his hand as he opens his arms and she falls into them, easily.

Mulder holds her as tightly as possible and she lets him. She let him before when the IVF didn’t work. This, she realizes now, way too late, is their pain. It’s not just hers; he, too, lost something. The phone rings insistently, startling them both, returning them to the here and now.

Scully looks at Mulder and smiles thankfully as he wipes her tears away. His finger traces her lips and she kisses it, softly, like a butterfly’s flap.

With a sigh, and protesting knees, Mulder gets up to pick up the phone. Scully can hear Skinner’s angry booming voice.

“I’m just gonna… go and give Skinner that report before he completely flips out,” his grin is lopsided, “all right?” Scully merely nods and watches as Mulder opens a drawer and after a moment holds the right file in his hands. Mulder’s chaos, she thinks with a sigh. She can no longer feel angry about it.

“Mulder?” He’s already at the door and turns to face her, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“I’d like to keep this list. If it’s all right with you.”

“It’s your list, Scully. It’ll always be your list.”

The first time he sees Jonathan running his hands through Steve Harrington’s hair is a big fucking moment for Will Byers. It’s night, and the boys have set up a super important campaign, while Nancy has agreed to watch them. So she invites over her boyfriends. They watch a movie while the boys play, but then Mike and Will run upstairs for some extra soda. 

That’s when Will sees them; sprawled out on the couch together; Nancy curled up next to Jonathan, holding his hand and resting her head in the crook of his neck, and Steve resting his own head against Jonathan’s chest. And Jonathan his literally just playing with his hair.

Will stares, wide eyed, heart pounding in his chest with Mike tugging on the sleeve of his shirt because he had no idea it was okay to touch a boy like that, the way he’s secretly always wanted to touch a boy — but hey, if Jonathan’s doing it, it must be okay, right?

And suddenly this wave of relief comes crashing over him, realising in that moment just how much self-hatred he had been carrying around. He smiles through his tears — beams more like — and turns to Mike. He can’t even speak. It’s okay to like boys it’s okay to like boys holy shit I can touch their hair this is like amazing oh my god—

“Will, come on,” Mike tugs his sleeve one last time, and Will stumbles down the stairs with him.

It’s okay to like boys.

Fifteen Hundred Miles (Burr x Reader)

Words: 2700+

Warnings: A small bit of cursing

A/N: I have decided that there aren’t enough burr imagines out there, so i made one! i am proud of this, so enjoy!

You’ve checked your wrist hundreds of times, seeing if your soulmate would get any closer to you. But since you were born, your wrist read 1500 miles, 1500 miles away from the one you were meant to be with, 1500 miles away from seeing their face.

It was strange, sometimes you thought that your clock was broken. It hasn’t changed in miles, so either you haven’t gone anywhere in ages, or the person didn’t move out of their one-mile radius.

Most of your friends found their soulmates, they were lucky enough to live within a hundred-mile radius of one another. But you, you weren’t so fortunate. You had states to travel, hundreds of dollars to spend to see them. You wondered whether it was worth it. But you saw the happiness on Elizabeth’s face when she met Alexander and their immediate connection that you continued to think otherwise.

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ballade to the dawn (m)

idol & songwriter au | christmas collaboration 

pairing: taehyung | reader
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 11.014
warnings: sexual content

Even if the last vestiges of winter are faintly gracing the outside, the day feels colder than it has ever been.

The timing is painfully amusing, you think. Winter has always been a part of you and Taehyung — you first laid your eyes on him through a thick veil of twinkling snowflakes, the first words you exchanged were over a cup of hot chocolate, and the first kiss he gave you was under the umbrella that protected you from a gentle blizzard. You love him just like you love winter, with its stinging cold and achingly dry wind; and even if it burns you sometimes, you can’t help but long for the signs of sunlight, so graceful above the snow coated ground. So unearthly and exquisite, just like him.

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Forgive me

Written for @leiascully xf writing challenge: forgiveness

Set after “The Truth”

It rains the first night they’re on the road. The raindrops pelt angrily against the windshield and the wipers do their best to give Mulder a clear view of what’s ahead. Their scratchy movement contributes to the peculiar symphony they’re listening to; their silence, however, is the loudest participant.

Things they want to talk about, really should talk about now after all this time, they’re swallowed in kisses, in moans instead. Here in the car, though, the distance between them seems inexpugnable. Mulder considers taking her hand in his, the need to feel her soft skin against his is almost painful. But he doesn’t reach over. Despite their desperate love making last night, he is not sure where they stand. Their bodies remember each other flawlessly, as if never having been apart. The distant look in her eyes, emotions playing on her face he’s never seen before, they remind him that she lived through a hell he did not walk through himself. Just like his hell is his very own. They’re both burned, but their wounds no longer match.

And Mulder’s secret, he fears, will make it only worse. Cause newer, rawer pain.

His eyes wander over to her small body, slumped in her seat, her head leaning the window. She’s fast asleep, still trusting him enough to know he’ll get them there, wherever, safely.

“Forgive me, Scully,” he mumbles, “I am so sorry.”

The words come easy now knowing she can’t hear them.


“Where are we?” Scully wakes up with the sun, her voice as warm and gentle as the weather.

“We just passed Tucson.” Mulder adjusts his sunglasses, preparing himself for her next question.

“Where are we going, Mulder? Mexico?”

“No.” She waits for him to elaborate, tell her, and he just can’t find the words.

“I’m sorry, Scully. It’s just- let’s just drive, all right?”

She doesn’t answer; she leans her head against the window again, her eyes trained on the bleak landscape surrounding them.

“Don’t be sorry, Mulder. We’re in this together, remember?”

He nods. But she doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.


They eat at a shabby road side diner, just like in old times. Mulder grins at her remembering mornings and afternoons spent together discussing cases. He misses it. Scully smiles at him softly, nodding to herself as if she, too, wishes they were still these people.

A few miles later Scully tells him to stop.

“You need sleep, Mulder.” She doesn’t offer to drive and he knows she’s right. They check in as Mr. and Mrs. Hale paying in cash with crumpled up bills. The room is clean enough, he figures. Silently he strips down to his boxers as Scully shuts the blinds.

She watches him get comfortable in bed.

“You’re not joining me?”

“You should sleep, Mulder. I’ll be fine.”

“You know, I can behave myself. Come to bed, Scully. I’ll be a gentleman.” She takes off her jacket, her blouse and finally her skirt. Mulder keeps his eyes on her face, determined. His cock betrays him, throbbing gently, tightening his shorts.

“But who says I can behave myself?” She whispers and Mulder lets go, lets her take the reign for the moment. When he comes, her walls clamping down on him, guilt surges through him, reminding him that he doesn’t deserve this. When she kisses him after with a smile on her face, he tastes bitterness.

Her eyes begin to flutter and her breath evens out.

“I love you,” Mulder whispers into the room where the air conditioner gently hums, almost like a lullaby, “I love you so much, Scully.”

There is no answer and he is glad.

“Forgive me, Scully. Forgive me.” And he, too, sleeps.


When Mulder changes the direction north, Scully shoots him a look but stays quiet.

What did they used to talk about on these drives? Mulder doesn’t remember. In his memory, they’re always talking, quarreling. Cases, theories, ideas but nothing he could pinpoint. It was a time before his death, his resurrection. Before there were new partners assigned to find him, to have her back. A time when there was no baby boy; no regrets on either side why he isn’t with them now.

“We could stop in Las Vegas, make it official.”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but Scully’s silence and her somber face tell him it was the wrong thing to say. He doesn’t apologize. Not for this.

As the scenery changes, the mood in the car remains the same.

“I really am sorry, Scully. For all of this.” When she doesn’t answer, he believes she’s asleep again. He doesn’t question her exhaustion, doesn’t ask why.

“Stop apologizing, Mulder. There’s nothing to be sorry for, nothing to forgive.”

“You heard me.”

“I did. It’s just- I sent you away, Mulder. To keep you safe and to… if there’s anyone who should be sorry it should be-“

“No, Scully. Don’t. Just… don’t.”

Silence takes over after this and Mulder feels it deep inside himself; the guilt manifesting itself inside, striking roots. You don’t know, Scully. You don’t know.

She’ll find out soon and then… and then.


They arrive with the sunrise. Orange flames lick at the sky as Mulder steers the car onto the graveled path.

“Where are we?” Scully’s voice is still thick with sleep. She runs her hands through her hair automatically.

“Mulder, where are we?” He stops the car, the house still small there in the distance. Mulder turns to Scully, who stares intently at him. There have been moments like this before in their long partnership; Mulder running off, leaving her with merely a sliver of the truth. Once she did it to him, too. This, he knows, is a different betrayal. One she might not forgive him.

“We’re in Wyoming.” There’s no reaction on her face. She has no idea.

“Scully, I couldn’t, I-…” Mulder trails off; he can’t do this. He starts the car again, Scully’s blue eyes burning into him, never once looking anywhere but his face. It takes maybe another 20 seconds, 30 tops, before the house comes into focus. Scully’s eyes leave him someone walked out the door. Mulder slows down the car and it finally stops in clear sight.

“Mulder…” He doesn’t recognize the emotion in Scully’s voice. He listens to the click of her seat belt, the soft close of the car door as she steps out. The woman on the porch holds her baby tightly, fastening her grip involuntarily.

Mulder takes a deep breath. He couldn’t have told her. He doesn’t have the words for it. Opening the car door, soft air hits him, reminds him of a place somewhere, of something he can’t put his fingers on. The baby kicks gently, like happy children do when they’re excited, and Mulder looks at his son for the first time in over a year.

“Mulder, why…” Scully’s voice breaks.

“Forgive me, Scully.” He pleads.

He needs her to forgive him because he can’t let go, can’t forgive himself and partly her, for giving up. For giving up their son.

“We’re taking our son home.” He says, determination in his voice. 


Oh good. You have your coffee already.
Yeah? What of it? And what the hell are doing here?
I thought I kicked you out of here yesterday?
You did. You did. And you just seem like the kind of guy
who takes news better after he’s had his morning coffee.

You ever heard of getting to the point?
How about we step into your office, Bones?
Hey! It’s my office. You don’t get to invite us in…
So come on—let’s go—talk—in my office…

                     Dammit Jim. Get your feet off my desk.
                     So detective, you know how I am allegedly really
                     handy with computers?

                     Allegedly my ass…
                     Well I might have hypothetically hacked your email.
                     I mean it wasn’t hard with a password like that

                    Jim you’ve got five seconds before I ‘hypothetically’
                     shove my foot up your–
                    AS I WAS SAYING. Getting to the point like you said.

I know you actually want my help you are just
too stubborn to admit it. Am I close?

 ….Five. Four. Three.
I will take that as a ‘yes’. Good because
I sent your captain, posing as you of course,
an email request for your new CI.

Jim. I don’t have a new CI.
See that’s where you’re wrong.
You’re looking at him.

Oh, really?

                    He fell for this? Pike actually believed it was me?
                    I made sure not to use any big words in the email.
                   Remember what I said about my foot?
                   Easy, easy I am just kidding, Bones.
                   —Hey where are you going?

                  To go ask Pike if he wants to go to a ballgame with me—
                  where do you think I’m going? Going to tell him you hacked
                  my computer and that I didn’t request a damn thing.
                  Okay and while you do that I will go tell everyone your password is–
                  Alright! Alright. Fine but you do what I say and no funny business.
                  You know I was half-kidding. I didn’t think that would work.
                  You’re getting awfully embarrassed over a name.

                  Maybe I am just private, you ever think of that?
                 What I think is that this is definitely a topic to revisit another day.

AU McKirk: The Detective & Repeat Offender 2/?

the swirling ways of stars

fantasy au

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 19.367
warnings: implied sex, alcohol mention

present day

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t feel like home.

He feels like the thrill of the unknown and the unexplored, like that hesitant feeling of a new sensation under your fingertips. He’s like the first taste of a newly discovered flavor, one that hits your tongue and quickly spreads through your body from head to toe.

He is that shivering pulse that tickles down your back when you step into foreign ground, he is the excitement that mixes with fear when faced with something that is beyond your control. He is the wild, the unsuppressed. His mind, just like his stare, is clear but faraway; always looking through the walls that surround him and into something else, something that your imagination could probably never cover.

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I need a long slowburn Trimberly fanfic where...

It starts during the movie, and shows the evolution of Trini and Kimberly’s relationship from strangers to friends, and then it continues after the movie ends on how they slowly become girlfriends.

Like after the initial Zordon meeting and training, Kimberly seeks Trini out after class when she notices Trini avoiding her gaze during class.

She’ll approach her with “hey, we’re in this weird thing together, maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world for us to get to know each other”

Trini’s not into it at first for obvious reasons, but eventually warms up to it.  She and Kimberly do yoga and hiking together on the mountain.  They don’t talk much, but Kimberly senses some battle is being waged in Trini’s mind, so it comes as no shock when Trini hints at being queer during the fireplace scene.

Then after everything, Kimberly is worried how Trini is sleeping after Rita’s attach.  Trini claims she’s fine, but Kimberly helps her patch up her room and sometimes spends the night.

Trini’s parents are happy that she has a new friend who’s “normal”, and Trini rolls her eyes every time her parents invite Kimberly to stay for dinner.

Trini also learns what Kimberly did to her friend Amanda, and she’s not happy about it, but she knows that Kimberly learned her lesson.  She then confesses that one time she had a crush on a girl who was her friend, but didn’t know it was a crush at the time, but then the girl publicly ridiculed her and outed her, and she was glad when her family moved.

One night, Trini agrees to go swimming with Kimberly on the mountain, and they share their first kiss in the lake.  It’s Kimberly who kisses her first, and Trini is shocked, but then leans in to kiss Kimberly.  They kiss for a few minutes, and then build a fire to help dry themselves off.  They’re kind of awkward about it, but manage to talk through their feelings.

Well turns out, Amanda took some pics of the moment and wants revenge.  She threatens Trini with the pictures until Trini points out that she’s not out yet, and that her parents and Kimberly’s parents would react badly to the photo, and that it could actually put her life in danger.  Amanda deletes the photo and promises not to tell anyone.

Trini brings it up to Kimberly who gets very anxious over the entire thing and confront Amanda, who points out that she at least thought it through before not sending the photo.

Kimberly feels guilty for putting Trini in a situation where she was almost outed, bur Trini is learning how to better handle her feelings rather than just running, so she tells Kimberly that while it was a scare, they managed to avoid it.

Their relationship starts slow: flirtatious smiles during class, locking eyes in the hallway, holding hands when they jump into the water above the spaceship, goodnight cheek kisses, sneaking into each other’s rooms to cuddle in the middle of the night, morning kisses on the lips, etc.

Trini’s parents figure out Kimberly is dating their daughter, but they decide to wait until Trini brings it up.  In the meantime, they treat Kimberly like family and invite her to dinner often.

When they do come out, it’s on accident when Trini kisses her girlfriend before 1st period, and they both realize that they forgot to play it platonic, but decide that maybe it’s time for them to be out.

Their fellow rangers are supportive: Billy claps every time he sees them holding hands in the hallway and gives them a list of LGBT friendly safe spaces in Angel’s Grove, Zack brings them around his mom to play chess with her and Trini is suprisingly good at chess and Zack’s mom loves seeing her son happy with his friends and how much in love Trini and Kimberly are, and Jason calls out any homophobic behavior he witnesses at school or in Angel Grove and sometimes the perpetrator is met with a slap.

And they all live happily ever after.

contrivedcoincidences6  asked:

25 and 47 drabble?

So, I made myself write this because it’s been ages (sorry). I hope it makes sense cause in my tired brain, not many things do :)

25. “You spilt that everywhere. Who has to pick that up? Me.” + 47. “D-don’t do that with your lips.”

“Scully, are you angry with me?” Mulder leans against the doorframe, barely holding himself up. His eyes are hooded and Scully wonders, not for the first time this night, why he still able to walk and talk.  

“No, Mulder. I already told you that, remember?” He nods slowly, but of course he doesn’t remember. This is not the first time he’s asked her tonight; it’s not even the second or third. She’s going to give him another answer once she can be sure he does remember everything that went down tonight.

“What are you doing here? I told you to go to bed.” Scully winces; she’s trying to sound like his partner, his friend, or at least like the medical doctor she is. Right now, she just sounds like his mother. As an answer, she receives another nod.

“Then why are you in the kitchen?” When she turns around to him after putting a tea bag into the boiling hot water, he’s gone. Finally. Scully searches for a clean spoon in Mulder’s drawers and of course there aren’t any. She should have taken him to her place instead. Except she’d thought the painkiller cocktail she’d give him would knock him out cold once they arrived here. Mulder, though, had other plans. And lots of them. She’s never seen him drink tea, not even when he is sick, but today of all days he wants tea. Her only hope is that the warm drink might finally make him fall asleep.

Just as Scully is about to enter Mulder’s bedroom, something shatters in the bathroom. She almost lets go of the mug, but manages to put it on his bed stand without incident. She doesn’t bother to knock and enters the bathroom.

“Mulder? What happened?” At first it’s merely the smell. Peppermint. The strong scent brings tears to her eyes and she blinks twice to make them go away. Mulder stands in front of his sink, barefoot, and stares at her.

“I don’t – Scully?”

“Go to bed, Mulder,” she sighs, “I’ll clean this up.”

“Can’t sleep without brushing my teeth.” His voice is slurred and his feet uncertain. Mulder steps right into the puddle of mouth wash he’s spilt; the now almost empty bottle still slightly dripping bluish liquid. At least it’s a plastic bottle, Scully thinks, as she watches helplessly.

“It’s fine, Mulder. Just go to bed, all right? I’ll clean this up.” Swaying, he makes it past her. Scully hopes he won’t see the mug on his bedside table. This is chaotic enough; she is not in the mood to tend to possible burns, or even worse, to go back to the ER. They’d spent enough time there tonight.

“You spilt that everywhere,” Scully sighs when she crouches down to swipe up the mouth wash with a towel; he can deal with laundry once he’s back on his feet, “Who has to pick that up? Me.” She mumbles, shaking her head in disbelief.

“What?” Of course Mulder didn’t listen to her; he’s still there in the doorway, his body swaying as if to a music only he can hear, and his eyes are on her.

“Mulder, what I did I tell you?” Her patience is beginning to wear thin. Very, very thin. Next time he hurts himself, she decides, she’ll leave him at the hospital.

“You’re angry with me, aren’t you? Are you angry with me, Scully?” She wants to yell at him that yes, she is angry. She’s furious, actually. Because if only he’d listened to her, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have run after an alleged suspect all by himself, get tangled up in a fishing net of all things, and then land on his side. Painfully. He might not feel his broken ribs right now, but Scully knows he’ll feel them tomorrow. Her anger can wait until then, too.

“No, I’m not,” she assures him instead, taking a deep breath; she realizes the mistake too late and almost gags on the powerful peppermint smell, “I just want you to go to bed. You need to sleep, Mulder. You’ll be in a lot of pain once the painkillers wear off.” Some of her words seem to get through to him because he finally trots off. With the bathroom door open, she hears faint rustling sounds as she takes another towel to get rid of the appalling liquid on the floor. She throws both towels into his already full laundry basket, turns off the lights and joins Mulder in his bedroom. Her hands, or really everything, smell like peppermint as she carefully sits down next to him. His eyes pop open again. His exhausted eyes make her smile.

“I’m thirsty.” Mulder tells her and Scully’s smile withers away. She takes the still way too warm mug into her hand and he reaches for it greedily. Not ready for another disaster, she keeps it away from him.

“It’s still too hot to drink, Mulder.” So she does the only thing she can think of at the moment: she purses her lips and blows.

“D-Don’t do that with your lips.” Mulder pleads, his eyes fixated on her.

“Do what?”

“With your lips. That… thing. Don’t.”

“You don’t want me to blow on your tea?” This time it’s him who winces and Scully has to keep herself from grinning. “Here, Mulder. Drink some of it and then sleep.” He noisily drinks from the mug and hands it back to Scully, who puts it on the nightstand.



“You smell minty fresh.” His eyes, heavy with sleep, finally fall shut and his lips curl upwards in a small smile.

“Well, so do you.”

“Hmm. We should kiss, you know.” Scully stares at him, his eyes still closed, his smile still there.

“You should sleep.” She whispers, leaning in slightly.

“My idea is better.” He pouts.

“If you remember any of this tomorrow, Mulder, we might try out your idea.”

Is That a Yes?

Words: 1,607 

Because it’s almost Valentine’s Day, I wrote a thing.

Hanzo tilted his head, staring at the slim box McCree had shoved into his hands before he could even say hello. He found himself confused for a moment as he tried to think of a reason for the cowboy to be bringing him a gift before recalling the date. He bit the inside of his lip before looking up to meet McCree’s eyes. “I did not get you anything.”

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