i could have made this even longer

anonymous asked:

I want to move out of my parents house soon , I looked at my future solar return and I have pluto in 4th house in 2021 , what transits and solar return aspects do I need to look for to move out ?

I think this question is way more complicated then an astrology chart could even answer.  Everyone lives in a different socio economic climate.  In this day and age we exist in a time when so much rapid job less from technological employment combined with rapid increase in cost of food, rent and utilities has made it a guess game.

No longer can you just look at an astrology chart and see someone can have employment potential or income coming their way.  Its not enough anymore to commit too’ Especially for america whom since the baby boomer generation has been spoiled with plentifulness.

Moving out takes alot OF income, alot of understand of finances and most of all making sure not only can you support yourself month to month; but also making sure you dont burn bridges in case this goes south.  Climates chance so fast in the age of aquarius “new world.” where you can have a stable job today, but not tomorrow.

My practical responsible advice is to live at home till either you can afford a condo or get married and share resources.  Make sure you have enough to afford somewhere you aren’t snookered into the criminal world of dealing with landlords. One you save up enough to buy your own place either with a huge downpay to reduce a mortgage or straight up cash ( which a condo makes more possible) you make living free and clear way more easier.

Until then my best advice is stomach living at home because its WAY better then alot of people have it.

Quotes that KILLED ME in ACOWAR

“I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have … The wait was worth it.”
Rhysand to Feyre Chapter 69

“I never got to repay your mother—for her kindness. Let me do it this way. Let me buy you time.”
Cassian to Rhysand Chapter 72

“I will find you again in the next world—the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.”
Cassian to Nesta Chapter 74

“Tell the High Lord” She said softly, “to leave out a cup for me.”
Amren to Feyre Chapter 75

“They were saying things, but all I could hear was that last I love you, which had not been a declaration but a good-bye.”
Feyre Chapter 77

“I heard you, even in death. It made me look back. Made me stay—a little longer.” Rhysand to Feyre Chapter 82

❝ No one can touch you. ❞

Plot: When you was kidnapped but your boyfriend Yoongi is one of the most influent boss in Seoul.

Pairing: YoongixReader

Words count: 1,9k

Warning: Slightly mention of blood; 

For @esu333; i hope you like it! M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! 

The italics part is a flashback! 

The soft light was the only thing you could see. Choking, you had something down in your mouth, you tried to move but your attempts were completely useless. Between the folds of the hood you wore, you perceived blurred voices. Something, in your mind, continued to echo because they were particularly familiar.  

Taking stock of the situation, you realized you were sitting. At least you weren’t dead, you thought in relief.  

“Don’t try… There is no use Y/N ” Someone muttered into your ear; “I’m sorry… I asked them not to hurt you. ” He added with a low tone.  

“KyunSoo?” You murmured, your voice emotionless.  

“Really Y/N.. I would have preferred not to resort to this. ”  

Your mind started racing, hectic and fast. If KyunSoo was in front of you, the reason could be just one. He had a score to settle with Yoongi.  

Sighing, you start fidgeting in your chair but a hand gave a hard shoot on your head, provoking you a groan of pain.  

“Stop Y/N.. don’t make things difficult. ” He warned you, but you did not have the slightest intention to listen to him.  

No one could give orders to you.  

The sounds around you were flushed and these makes you realize that you are locked into some soundproofed room. No one wanted to make you hear what was happening outside or to allow others to hear you.  

Cursing softly you started rubbing your hands together, in a desperate attempt to pull them from the interweaving of ropes that held them tight.  

“When they tie your hands with a triple knot, you can’t do anything but just broken two fingers of your hand and your wrist to set you free.”  

Yoongi’s voice, in the days when he was explaining and repeating concepts familiar to him, it was not to any help at that time. Holding back the tears you tried once again to remove one of the two hands, but a violent blow against your chest stopped you instantly.  

“This bitch,” someone unknown said vehemently; “Why don’t you just kill her??” The person added lost patience.  

You did not recognize him, but you know he has no power over KyunSoo. He is the boss, he has always been. In your mind began to appear the memories of your days in College, you would never have thought he would become one of the most influential gangsters in the city.  

He was sweet, friendly and charismatic. Now he was just known for the highest amount of deaths associated with his name.  

“Did you have managed to reach him?” Kyunsoo asked, bored voice, and your heart will lose some beat.  

You did not want Yoongi to be involved, you would rather die than put him in danger.  

“Kyunsoo… What do you want from Yoongi? ” You asked, holding the hot tears that itched your eyes; “I can give you what you want. I have my money, I swear. ”  

A broke sigh between you lips caused you a chill down your spine; because you know that nothing would have distracted him from his goal.  

“What is mine, Y/n. I swear you won’t be hurt if he cooperates.”  

“And if he won’t cooperate…?” You asked with another tremble into your voice, reprising the attempt to free your hands from the grip.  

“You are going to die.”  

Not that you were surprised by his words, you were well aware of how that world worked. And yet you did not care to die if the man you loved was safe.


His hands started to rush on your neck, laying on your hips while forcefully you were attracted, making crush your bodies. It was the first time that you let him bring so much to you. Always too far away but connected in ways you couldn’t explain.  

“Do you know that if you stay with me, you could often risk your life?”  

“I don’t care, Yoongi” You muttered onto his lips, without taking your eyes off his.  

His eyes didn’t leave a moment, glided lenses on each stroke of your face, provoking you the most intense sensations ever.  

“I promise you one thing, Y/N”. He added with a serious tone, cupping your face in his hands by tapering and delicate fingers.  

A strange trait for the most feared of all boss in Seoul, but you had always loved his hands.  

“What?” You raised an eyebrow in a curious expression. 

“I would never let someone lay a finger on you. And if it, for a mere twist of fate, happen… They’ll no longer have their hands or their lives to do it again. ”  


That particular moment in your relationship made space in your mind and a quite feeling invaded you. He would protect you, you could even hear that the situation would end soon.  

So you renounced completely to free yourself from the ropes, your body is relaxed and even your heart slowed his beats. You felt completely different and it was the thought of Yoongi to help you; knowing he would save you.  

“Y/N, are you okay?” The voice of Kyunsoo brought you back to reality and you shake your head, just too tired of that hood on your face.  

The man in front of you understood the situation and decided that maybe wouldn’t have been a danger discovering your face. You were well aware of why you were there, seeing them in the face wouldn’t have changed anything.  

The newfound “freedom” allowed you to understand, finally, where you were. There were not a lot of clues, the bare walls and just a desk where Kyunsoo was sitting, checking documents that you couldn’t see from where you are.  

“Kyunsoo?”  

“Huh?”  

“He will hurt you. ” You were warning him, even if he did not deserve this at all.  

His laughter filled the air immediately, while your eyes rested on him and you observed with disgust.  

“I’m not afraid Y/N; not of him. ” He reassured, a frown amused onto his face.  

“You should.” You added, still teasing him in pride.  

One thing that you had understood of those men was just that; they were incredibly sensitive and proud. Hurting them at that point and they could become incredibly weak or ruthless killers.  

“For now, your dearly beloved did not give signs of life.”  

“He will.”  

                                           ___

The posture in which you were started to hurt a few hours earlier, but you did not stoop to complaining. Your mouth was closed for that entire time, while your legs became weaker and weaker and the pain in your wrists grew.  

Suddenly a dull thud made you to lift your face, turning towards the thick door that divided you from the rest of the world.  

No shot, no amount of screaming. There were total silence and disappointment surrounded you because if it had been Yoongi the screaming would not be missed.  

“Didn’t they tell you how to treat a woman? A woman that didn’t belong to you.” An icy voice, steeped in anger, rang out in the speakers making you lose a couple of heartbeats.  

He was there, he had not broken his promise.  

Kyunsoo began to look around, visibly frightened, by pulling the gun out of the holster inside his jacket. You smiled and began to experience a feeling different. For the first time, despite you always kept hidden your fear in front of Yoongi, you are not scared by the “work” of your man. For the first time, you are relieved, because otherwise, he would never be able to save you.  

The door, only wall between you and freedom, collapsed after a few moments, perhaps thanks to a minimum dose of an explosive charge. The smoke filled the room, provoking you a slight coughing while your eyesight was completely blurred.  

“Kyunsoo, I thought you were smarter than that.”  

“Yoongi… One more step and I’ll kill her. ”  

The barrel of the gun is pointed at your temple and you froze immediately, while the smoke was starting to branch.  

“Yoongi …” Your whisper reached the man, standing at the door with the gun lowered against his side.  

His gaze was completely emotionless on the outside. You were the only one who could see the anger that burst in his eyes and a shiver down your spine shook and assured you at the same time.  

“Touch her again and I swear, Kyunsoo–” He began to mean with icy tone; “in less than three minutes you’ll be dead.”  

“I die, she dies. You know I’m a trigger happy, don’t force me to hurt her. ”  

“You have exactly ten seconds to let her go.”  

He was calm, so calm that managed to soothe you. His voice had the power to be a soothing for you and this time was no different.  

“One.” His cold tone had become lethal.  

“Give me what is mine Yoongi.”  

“Two.”  

“Yoongi.. Could you just go straight to three instead of waiting up to ten? ” You asked, completely drained of all energy.  

You did not want to die, but if it had to happen you would have preferred a quick thing.  

“Whatever.” He Murmured, this time a hint of amusement in his voice.  

You closed your eyes to hear a gunshot, not knowing if it was the Yoongi’s one or the Kyunsoo’s one directly to your head. You were prepared to impact so you have curled up about, but you could not feel any kind of pain.  

Slowly you unfold the left eye, just to see blood splatter on your hands. But it was not yours and this was a huge relief, so much so that you felt the adrenaline begin to slip away from your body.  

“Baby, I’m here… I’m here. ”  

You raise your eyes and when you saw at that time of the aggressive tremble that was shaking you, accepting with gratitude the loving touch of his hands on your face.  

“I’m here babe, sorry it took me so long.” He whispered, while one of his men entered the room and immediately freed your hands. “What did he do? See your face… God, I’m going to kill him. ”  

“Y-Y-you have already done so, Y-Yoongi.. ”  

“I’m going to kill him again just for daring to touch you” he hummed on your lips, finally relieved to see that despite all you were alive.  

He put his hands under your armpits after they finally had freed your hands and feet, lifting you effortlessly and clutching firmly against his body.  

Crying is liberating, hot tears flowed fast on your cheeks still stained with blood, while he rocked you gently.  

“It’s okay baby, everything is over.”  

“You’re here… you’re really here. ” You managed to say through tears and sobs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and the collarbone.  

“I promised two years ago. No one can touch you without lost their life. ”

i think in our previous lives, we’ve always been in love with each other, estranged and held apart by a thin thread.

you were the king’s son and i was a peasant girl.
i was an aristocrat and you worked in the stables.
i was in love with somebody else.
you were in love with somebody else.
the first time we met, the world must have stopped in its tracks.
because when i first saw you in this lifetime, i felt everything freeze.

we have always loved each other from afar, each lifetime drawing us closer and closer.

the first time, you accepted a flower from me when you were riding through my village. you rode through it often, and one time you stopped, got down from your carriage, and spoke to me. but you were soon married to a princess, just like all princes were.
the second time, you helped me learn how to ride and take care of my horse. sometimes our hands would brush when we groomed him together. you were my confidant. my friend. we never once told each other what we really felt.
the third time, you were my neighbor, my best friend, and one night you kissed me during a game of hide and seek. “i love you,” you’d said to me, and for a second i loved you too. but a few weeks later i started dating somebody else. that summer, you moved away. in that lifetime, i broke your heart.
the fourth time, we had each other, for a while. our families vacationed by the same lake. you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend until you had seen everything i had to offer you. you watched me cry in front of you. your family left the next day. in that lifetime, you broke mine.

our souls knew each other before we did. they found each other from across the room and pulled us together. “it’s you,” they said to one another, “i’m so glad it’s you. maybe we can get it right this time.” and then it began, again.

this time, we could have made it if we had had the strength. the courage. but i was afraid and your heart wasn’t there. eventually, mine wandered too. we drifted, our souls still reaching out for each other even though our hands no longer were.

but this time, we knew.
this time, we told each other.
this time, we fought.
in this lifetime, there wasn’t an issue of who broke who.
in this lifetime, we merely broke each other.

i know it’s heartbreaking to think we never got a real chance.
your sobs ring as loud in my ears now as they did the day we shattered,
and they haunt me.
our time in this life together is over. we lost this round.
but each lifetime, we inch closer and closer.
and in my heart, i hope.
my soul, it longs for you still.
it has picked itself out of the rubble of yet another failure and pieced itself back together.
my soul, it knows.
“i will find you again,” it whispers into the cosmos,
“there are many lifetimes to come.”

from across the world, your soul returns,
“we will get our chance yet.”

—  reincarnate -c.h. // Instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
2

BOOKS READ IN 2017: PETER DARLING by Austin Chant

                     “The very world here bends for the sake of your stories, Pan.
                                I see no reason why I, a mere man, should not.”


Ten years ago, Peter Pan left Neverland to grow up, leaving behind his adolescent dreams of boyhood and resigning himself to life as Wendy Darling. Growing up, however, has only made him realize how inescapable his identity as a man is.
But when he returns to Neverland, everything has changed: the Lost Boys have become men, and the war games they once played are now real and deadly. Even more shocking is the attraction Peter never knew he could feel for his old rival, Captain Hook—and the realization that he no longer knows which of them is the real villain.

                                  “I’m the spirit of youth and joy, remember?”
                                     “You’re a grown man and a nuisance.”

Business and Pleasure - Part 11

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 1,776

Warnings: Swearing, smut, lots of detailed smut


Originally posted by complete-fandom-trashhh


After that, the rest of the evening seemed to pass by in a blur. Sure, you were concerned about Bucky leaving for his business trip. Your relationship was only just beginning to heal. Who knew what the extended time apart could do. It had the potential to be extremely damaging, but it also might help. Nevertheless, you felt strangely calm. 

The conversation flowed easily over dinner, and by desert, you found yourself laughing and smiling again, the nervousness now gone completely. You were still a bit shaky after Bucky’s earlier confession, but that discussion could wait until a more opportune time. Slowly, the Bucky you knew and loved was beginning to come back.

Keep reading

This is fine

‘Hmm’ 

Draco rolled on his sheets, his skin warm because of the covers and the soft light shining through his bedside window.

It was good, those new sheets, that new bedroom. The purple curtains weren’t something he would’ve picked himself but being an eighth year came with its advantages and disadvantages.

He turned again, his eyes still closed. Having his own room at Hogwarts was something he would never have thought could be so great. The silence, the privacy, being able to come and go whenever he wanted. Well, not that he could wander around past curfew but even if he did no one would know.

Draco finally opened his eyes, the sunlight strangely bright for that time of-

‘Fuck’

Draco launched himself off the covers, his legs still tangled in the sheets making him tumble straight to the floor. He cursed again, louder this time, but who cares. He was alone in his room, no one to wake up and, oh well, no one to wake him up either.

So he was late, even though he was sure he’d set up his wand to wake him up.

Great, now his morning had everything to be even shinier than normal. He hated getting up late and had managed just fine to arrive to classes in time until now. He hated it because being late meant receiving unwanted attention from professors who already despised him and classmates who wanted him dead. Potter was usually the one to burst into classes after it’d already begun but all he always got for that were welcoming smiles and good mornings.

Draco grabbed the first pair of black trousers he spotted near his nightstand, putting them on while searching for his belt. He wrapped his green and silver tie loosely around his neck, his black shirt still completely unbuttoned. Draco cast a quick cleaning spell on his mouth, hurriedly heading for the door with shoes in one hand and bag in the other. The common room was most definitely empty so he would just finish getting ready-

Ouch!

A loud thud caught Draco’s attention, wand instantly in hand as an instinct. He should have expected, should have exhaled, turned on his heel and darted out of there because he knew he was just going to be even later now.

But how in Merlin’s name could he turn around on a Potter still in his boxers, black boxers and a Gryffindor tie hanging around his neck like the bloody corridor was an extension of his room. Potter looked up, his cheeks red and an apologetic smile on his face, something that only contributed to unbalance Draco more.

The blond was gaping, his own blood rushing to his cheeks because his eyes couldn’t stay on Potter’s ugly glasses, they had to aknowledge his shoulders, covered in tiny brown freckles; scan his chest and his stomach- fuck, Potter had abs, and his hips, Draco’s eyes could trace his V line…

He froze, closing his eyes like that was the only way he knew how to stop unashamedly maping the Gryffindor’s body.

He opened them when his breathing had evened out to find Potter doing the exact same thing he’d done.

'I- I’m late’ Draco blurted out, startling Potter who seemed to be unaware of what he was doing.

'Yeah, me too’ His green eyes fixed on something above Draco’s head.

'You’re always late, this isn’t- ’

'What happened to your hair?’ Potter took a step towards him, his shame of being half naked completely forgotten. Draco’s wand remained firmly secured in his hand, though he doubted he’d have the will to point it at Potter even if he had to.

Merlin, he was… hot. That was the word, there was no way he could lie about that. Draco was eighteen and gay and Potter was eighteen and hot and- and so Potter. He should turn around and run the fuck away from there, that corridor was too small for two people to stand at a safe distance and Potter didn’t seem to even want to stand at a safe distance.

He was still looking at Draco’s hair like it was made of gold.

'I didn’t have time to comb it’

Draco looked at Potter’s head, wondering for a second if the Gryffindor had ever brushed his hair.

The dark brown locks curled chaotically around the edges, falling on his forehead and almost covering the scar. His hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it, probably longer than when they were fourteen and Draco first experienced how it was like to develop a crush on someone.

When Potter lowered his eyes Draco could see only thin rings of green around dilated pupils.

'Why would you comb it?’

There, he knew Potter had never brushed his hair. That was be the best opportunity to mock him about it, Draco just needed to open his mouth and-

Warm fingers pushed Draco’s locks away from his eyes, his mouth already open but his mind suddenly blank. Potter was so close Draco had to tip his head slightly down to look at him. His fingers ran through the strands, pressing lightly against his scalp. Draco’s breathing became shallow, his whole body tingling with the sudden proximity.

'I- I need to go’ Draco’s hand reached for his bag as fast as he could. He darted past a surprised Potter on his way to the stairs, Potter’s fingers that were tangled in Draco’s hair falling to his pale neck, touching it lightly for a second.

He wanted to stay, fuck, all he wanted to do was stay. That was the main reason he should go immediately because if he felt Potter’s warmth against his skin for another minute he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

When Draco turned around to catch a last glimpse of Potter, green eyes met grey. He gulped, turning on his heel and heading towards their common room.

Despite being so late Draco decided to keep a slow pace. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to keep in his memory the feeling of Harry’s fingers against his neck.

***

Draco opened his eyes the next morning to find, fortunately, that he was on time.

He sighed, images of the previous day flashing through his mind. He got up, shaking that weird feeling away, and set out for his trunk.

This time Draco decided to go with his best green silk shirt and some tight black trousers - he was in a good mood after all - paired with a silver tie. He was about to grab his bag when Draco remembered he hadn’t combed his hair again, darting his eyes to the mirror hanging on his door.

It looked… messy, but maybe not in a bad way. He ran his fingers through it, pushing the strands back and watching as a few fell on his forehead. Okay, he could try that. His father would totally reprimand him if he knew but Draco decided to go for it anyway.

He closed the door behind him, his eyes already searching for that door opposite his. Potter’s room.

It was locked and no movement could be heard from outside.

Late again, he thought to himself, lingering on the first step of the circular stair. He looked back again, waiting for something he didn’t quite know. No sound, nothing.

He’s definitely going to be late.

Fuck, Draco looked at his pocket watch, confirming that if he turned around now he’d get exactly on time for his first class of the day.

He could knock, a small voice that sounded a lot like his mother’s resonated inside his head.

Draco looked around, checking if he was in fact alone before darting towards Potter’s door, knocking twice. He waited a bit, knocked again. No response.

Maybe he’s not in there, he thought.

Maybe he’s not feeling well, his other inner voice said.

Draco didn’t care, he should just go. But his hand was already on the door knob, twisting it. It clicked, easily letting Draco in despite a red alarm screaming inside his head.

'Potter?’ His voice was low but in the quiet room it sounded much louder to his ears.

The curtains of the only bed in the room were closed, but Draco could immediately tell Potter was there. His deep breathing told Draco that the Gryffindor was sound asleep, the sunrays making his silhouette distinguishable through the curtains.

The alarms were louder now but Draco couldn’t walk away anymore.

He pulled the curtains slowly.

'Potter, you’re- ’

Fuck.

Potter was on his back, a soft blanket covering one of his legs and his waist in a way Draco could see he had nothing beneath it. He was naked, completely naked under that thin layer of cotton.

Draco’s fingertips were tingling, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to touch, but Merlin he couldn’t even afford to think that.

'Potter, wake up’ he spoke louder this time and Potter all but groaned in his sleep. Draco felt something boiling inside him, anger and lust mixed together.

'Potter, wake up!’ His hand reached for Potter’s shoulder, shaking him before he could stop himself.

A strong grip in his hand pulled him forward and before Draco knew what was happening he found shimself underneath Potter who had his wand pointed at Draco’s throat, a dangerous look on his face.

'Malfoy, what… Fuck, what are you doing here?’

Potter lowered his wand without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, his expression turning into one of confusion.

Draco stood frozen, his mouth hanging open because the second Potter recognized him all the bastard did was relax, sitting on top of Draco’s thighs like that was the most obvious thing to do when you find your enemy inside your room.

And Draco could feel it. Feel it against his stomach even though the blanket was preventing him from actually seeing it. He darted his eyes up the moment he realized he was staring at it to find Potter already looking at him. He was blushing, green eyes wide open like he’d just realized the strange position they were in.

The thing was, Potter didn’t move, not off Draco at least.

'We’re late,’ Draco’s voice was hoarse when he spoke.

Potter rolled his eyes to what he judged useless information.

'Are those the only words you know?’

That ungrateful git. Draco tried to push him away, shifting his thighs in a way that forced Potter to grab onto something to avoid falling off his own bed. He obviously chose to grab onto Draco’s shirt, tearing up two buttons with the force of his grip. Draco gasped, anger boiling deep inside him. That was his abosolutely favorite shirt and now it was ruined. He was about to punch Potter when something poked him hard on his inner thigh, right beside his own crotch.

Something. Not only something, it seemed.

Draco’s eyes found Harry’s.

'Potter?’ His voice came weaker than he intended.

So Potter had an erection. He was hard, rocking hard right on top of Draco. And naked too. For Merlin’s sake, that wasn’t even the problem.

'Ah… Malfoy?’ Potter looked down and back up at Draco. He smirked, shifting again.

The problem was Draco was hard too.

Draco was hard with a very naked ass sitting on top of him to feel it.

Draco’s cheeks were on fire, his hands griping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white already.

This time he had no way out. Potter had that smirk all over his face and kept moving on top of him, like- like he was adjusting himself… Oh God, Potter’s cock was right there, heavy and hot against his stomach.

'Potter, I… we need to- Oh fuck’ Draco’s head hit the matress, his eyes shutting close as Potter thrust his hips forward.

'Do you really want to leave?’ He was panting, each thrust causing the blanket to slid even lower on his hips. Draco could see hair right below his navel now. Draco’s hands must have left the sheets at some point because now they were grabbing Potter’s thighs with the same intensity.

Leave? He couldn’t leave.

'I hate you’ Draco thrust back, the blanket finally sliding to the floor.

Potter moaned, his smirk turning into a grin. Merlin, he was so hot.

Potter’s hands slid from Draco’s torso to his biceps, forcing his arms above his head. He hold them there, something possessive shining in his eyes.

'Are you sure?’

One of his hands reached his wand and before Draco could even worry about it his clothes were gone. He moaned and Potter moaned, loud, needy.

Because the side of Draco’s cock was pressed against Harry’s ass, rubbing against his hole. It was too much, too suddenly.

'Potter… Fuck this is- ’

Draco flipped them, all his control gone. He stared Potter down, taking in all of it, from his swollen cock to his even messier than normal hair, his green eyes filled with lust and fixed on Draco, his hands, warm and strong roaming all over him.

'How did this happen?’ Potter whispered and Draco froze. Really, how did that happen? They were enemies, they hated each other. He was almost sure that Potter wasn’t gay and now they were there-

Potter smashed their mouths together, kissing hungrily like Draco had never been kissed before. They backed away for air, Draco resting his forehead on Potter’s.

'You don’t really hate me’ Potter said, still trying to control his breathing.

'I do’ Draco bit his shoulder, leaving a red mark there.

'You don’t’ Potter’s grip on his jaw was strong, forcing their eyes to meet again. Everything seemed to change, the atmosphere, the tension between them.

'You’re a nightmare’ Draco whispered against his lips.

'You’re a wet dream’ Harry said back, smirking.

Draco didn’t hate him. He had realized that only after the war but now he knew he probably had never hated Harry Potter.

When he bent down to press their lips together, it wasn’t rushed. They kissed slowly, tasting one another. It was sensual, deeper than before. Potter’s hands were on his hair, his fingers threading through the strands and pulling Draco towards him. They parted again but Potter kept placing soft kisses on Draco’s lips, again and again.

'Why do you do this?’ Draco’s eyes were still closed, his mouth brushing Potter’s as he spoke. Every nerve on his body was aware of it’s surroundings. Draco wanted to scream, stop the time because Potter made him feel like he was eleven all over again, powerless but a lot braver than he was now at eighteen.

Potter moved so he could speak into his ear, hands still on his hair.

'Draco, this is fine’ his words were softer than the ones ringing inside Draco’s head that sounded so much like his father’s. 'Scared, Malfoy?’

There it was, Malfoy and Potter, always Malfoy and Potter. Except Draco wanted this new thing now, because Potter was right. If he didn’t give a shit for the past Draco wouldn’t either.

'I don’t hate you’ he whispered, afraid the words would get stuck in his throat.

It was like an immense weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders.

'I don’t hate you, Harry’ he said it again, louder. They kissed one more time. 'Harry’ and again. 'I want to- ah, I want to fuck you, Harry’ the way the name rolled on his tongue was addictive. And everytime he said it, Harry Harry Harry, the boy beneath him would shudder, moan, kiss him again.

'Draco’ his fingers running through his hair. 'Draco’.

Draco backed away, turned Harry on his stomach and kissed his nape.

He kissed his shoulder blades, Draco kissed his spine.

Open mouthed kisses all the way down to his lower back, Harry arched to his touch.

His hands ran on Harry’s sides, one of them reaching Harry’s neck and holding him there possessively.

'You can… you can just…’ Harry turned his head to the side, his hands pushing Draco’s thighs towards him desperately.

'I need to- ’

'I did it yesterday’ Harry’s voice was hoarse and the words came out rushed. 'After we met, I…’

'You were thinking of me…’ Draco kissed the shell of his ear, his hips trembling with need.

'I want you inside, Draco’ Harry fingers dig in his thighs and Draco shuddered, a moan escaping his lips.

Draco reached for his wand, a quick spell smearing his fingers with lube. He found Harry’s hole, tried one finger and found it in fact loose already. Harry bucked against it underneath him. Fuck, he wanted to eat him up, take him hard. He smeared his swollen cock with the lube, aligning himself.

Harry arched his back again when Draco buried himself inside him, his hips hitting Harry’s ass.

'Draco- fuck, please… Draco please

It was so tight, fuck, so hot inside him and the sounds. Harry kept moaning, bucking against him, begging.

'You’re so… Harry, Harry fuck’ Harry was shaking beneath him, his head turning from side to side, eyes closed and mouth open. Draco pounded hard inside him, as fast as he could.

It was desperate, intense, too much. They were Malfoy and Potter and Draco and Harry. And Draco wanted all that, he needed Harry Potter to remember what it was like to feel that fire inside him.

Harry came with his ass up and face pressed against the pillow that muffled his scream. He came with Draco’s cum filling him up, Draco digging his nails on his sides and screaming his name.

When he let his body crash beside Harry, Draco felt different.

'Do you hate me?’ Harry’s playful tone was gone.

'No’

'Are you s-’

Draco pressed his hand on Harry’s mouth, shutting him up immediately.

'You’re a Gryffindor, an arrogant prick with a hero complex. You’re loud and impulsive. Still, I don’t hate you, okay?’

When Draco removed his hand Harry had a frown on his face.

'What does that even mean?’

Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out for Harry’s arm. He ran his fingers there, tracing invisible patterns as he spoke. He liked to touch Harry, he liked it quite a lot.

'It means this is fine, doesn’t it?’

Harry closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

'Draco’

There, that was why he felt different. Harry made his name sound like something… special.

'Yeah?’

'Will you wake me up tomorrow too?’

He snorted, hitting Harry with the pillow square in the face.

'No’

'What, why not?’ Harry gave him an indignant look that only made Draco laugh even harder.

'I can’t miss another class because of you’

Harry gave him a peck on the lips, startling him. It was so sweet he couldn’t help the blushing creeping up his face.

'Then I’ll wake up before you, Malfoy’ he gave him another peck, the well known challenging look in his eyes.

Draco smiled, realizing Malfoy and Potter could be as nice as Draco and Harry if he got to have him by his side.

Ao3

When I first became aware of the ace discourse here on tumblr, I actually considered myself an exclusionist for the most part, but I didn’t want to visibly tale a side right away because I wanted to make sure I understood what the discourse was really about. Of course this is before I realized I was gray-ace and of course the discourse made the process of my accepting that take longer than it should have, but I understood where they were coming from.

I followed a bunch of popular exclusionist blogs (that I will not name because I don’t want to start unnecessary drama) and also followed some popular inclusionist blogs so I could keep track of what both sides arguments were. Over time I noticed that the exclusionist blogs were regularly relentlessly bullying and harassing inclusionists and aces that weren’t even part of discourse and I saw them no longer making this about cishet aces but about all aces. I saw them posting things in positivity tags that didn’t belong there (which affects all aces and not the cishet ones) and I saw them purposefully trigger nd/mentally ill aces for their own amusement and I saw how their rhetoric was taken from terfs and biphobes. I even had an exclusionist “friend” at the time that I would message when I had questions about why they were doing this stuff. They essentially said it was to weed out aces from the community by making them feel unsafe because they don’t belong even if they aren’t cishet because they are “cishet apologists” that “value the feelings of cishets over actual lgbt people’s feelings”. I never saw the inclusionist blogs I followed do any of this (not trying to say that none of them have done this, too. It just seems more prevalent on the exclusionist side because I didn’t have to do anything to see this stuff happen. It was right there on my dash just from following popular exclusionist blogs).

I realized that I was aligning myself with actual bigots and that didn’t sit right with me as a pansexual nonbinary neurodivergent poc. I can’t align myself with bigots when my whole life and every aspect of who I am are already subject to bigotry. So in a way, it’s exclusionists’ fault that I’m now an inclusionist. I saw their true colors and I was honestly disgusted. I decided that I rather be part of the side of the discourse that is calling out this behavior instead of contributing to it. I rather be part of the side that isn’t obviously full of bigots.

“it’s okay.”

after this scene, i began to imagine jake and amy’s conversations. especially now that theyre living together (i need the domestic scenez, where they at), it’s pretty unavoidable to lay awake at night and expose oneself to their partner: jake talking to amy about pretty much growing up own his own (roger being an ass and karen working hard to get by) but with the magical presence of gina (that he’s very thankful for) and then amy talking to jake about how she had to fight for a seat in the table, how she still loves her seven brothers even if they made her life a little bit more difficult than necessary. i can imagine them talking about their own personal realizations or epiphanies, their understanding of the whys in hushed voices, like no one else is supposed to hear them. and after that scary exposure of one’s vulnerabilities, they could only hold each other in relief, admiration and gratefulness that theyre no longer doing things alone. they dont have to anymore.

so when amy held jake in this scene and told him it’s okay, i know she’s telling the truth because it really is okay for her that he grew up with cake and tv as his parents. because it made jake, jake. and i feel like she wouldnt have it any other way.

A Dash of Jealousy (Sam Winchester x Reader)

Word Count: 2,088

Sam Winchester x Reader

Request: Can you write a fic where Sam Winchester pretends he need the reader’s help with something or fakes an emergency or something whilst she’s on a date because he is extremely jealous and loves her and wants to get her away from her date?

Warnings: Mentions of sex, language, jealousy, alcohol use, slight angst, fluff, implied smut

Finishing the last swipe of your lipstick, you step away from the mirror in an attempt to spot any mistakes or flaws you might have missed. It’s not often that you get the opportunity to take a night away from your hectic, hunting lifestyle (let alone a Saturday night, at that) and spend it like you used to before you got involved in all of this- going on a date.

When you had told Sam and Dean, your hunting partners as well as your best friends, that you were going on a date, they were shocked. It was a mixture of “I’m proud of ‘ya, kid,” and smirking from Dean, and “Don’t you think you should spend our one night off work relaxing?” followed by a frown from Sam.

You ignored them both, determined to have fun tonight. Sam was right- this was your one night off from work, and you’d be damned if you didn’t spend it the right way. Relaxing, however, was not part of that. When hunting becomes your life, and you have a serious lack of privacy and free time due to spending every waking moment with the Winchesters, you’re very much hoping that this date ends in a very exciting way.

Keep reading

“Flat out” - h.s. Part 7

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

—–

—–

You had your head on your kitchen island as you stared at the small fish tank in front of you. The little beta fish swam around with it’s burgundy tail flipping through the water as it swam in little circles around and around. 

“Same,” you sighed, spooning a mouthful of cereal into your mouth while continuing to watch your little fish. You’d bought him two weeks ago, after living on your own for two full months, and you were quite content just watching this little guy swim around with no worries in the world. 

He soothed you.

You may or may not have named him Harry. 

David had already texted you twice today around five in the morning like an apparently normal person in the law world. You had been working the same case for about a month now and you seriously were started to get agitated. Patience had never been a strong suit for you. 

Keep reading

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Epilogue

April 1

Simon

I find the letter at the foot of my bed when I wake up.

 

Simon,

 

I don’t know exactly how to say this

I’ve been sitting here staring at the blank page for ten minutes

Why did you have to be the Mage’s Heir?

I wish this didn’t have to be so hard to say

Crowley, this is ridiculous

We’ve lived together all this time and

Bet you thought I hated you

I don’t hate you

I can’t even explain what I

Why did we have to be enemies?

Fuck it.

 

I love you Simon Snow.

 

Baz

He finds me outside the dining hall, and when he storms towards me I see the letter in his hand. I brace myself.

Simon

“When did you even write this?” I begin.

           Baz looks taken aback.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

           “And why did you have to write it today?”

           “It’s April Fool’s Day, Snow,” he tells me, “or did you forget already?”

           “That’s just it,” I say, my voice getting louder. “Why would you write something like this on a day where it could be a prank?”

           “For exactly that reason.”

           “Well, what am I supposed to think?”

           He gives me a look.  “Think whatever you want, Snow,” he shrugs, “I’ve made my move, just focus on making yours.”

           I glare up at him a second longer.  His eyes are gray and deep and almost sad.

           His mouth is right there, and his lips look soft like his hair.

           I wonder if he’s noticed where I’m looking.

Baz

I wonder if he’ll reach up…

           Or if I’ll have to reach down…

           Or if I’m even brave enough…

Simon

I’m not brave enough.

           I step back while I still can, before I’ve been staring at his mouth too long or before one of us closes the distance.

           I wish I had some sort of parting phrase, something more eloquent than “fuck you”, but I don’t.

           So I turn and walk away, feeling his eyes bore into my back, feeling that same magnetic tension I’d felt when I’d left him to cry away his own nightmares.

           I wait until I’m around the corner before I start running.

Baz

Maybe a love letter is a lame April Fool’s Day prank, but when else am I supposed to tell him? When else would he take it with a grain of salt?

           Except he didn’t take it with a grain of salt, even today.

           I hope it makes him hate me.  I hope he burns it in front of me.  I hope he makes me burn it with my own fire.

           I wish he would just break my heart and leave it at that.

           Because the only thing worse than knowing he hates me is not knowing.

Simon

I could have kissed him.

           I wanted to kiss him.

           Why?

           I’m outside when I run out of breath and I lean against an ivy-covered wall before pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing Penny’s number.

           “Hello?”

           “Penny?”

           “Hey Simon, what’s up?”

           I squeeze my eyes shut.  “You’ve got to help me.”

           “Why, what’s wrong?”

           “I…”

           “What?”

           “I almost kissed Baz.”

Penelope

I find Simon sitting on the ground against a wall, and the grass is wet but I join him anyway and wait for him to speak.

           “What’s wrong with me, Penny?”

           I shoot him a look.  “Nothing’s wrong with you, Simon,” I assure him, “you’re just scared.”

           “Baz hates me.”

           I don’t answer.

           “And I hate him, right?”

           “If you have to ask me, then you probably don’t.”

           “But I must,” he insists, “I always have.”

           “Things change.”

           “Not this.”

           “Where is this even coming from?” I ask.  He hands me a folded slip of paper.  A letter, and even though it’s not signed, it’s clear who wrote it.  

           “It was on my bed this morning.”

           “You do realize this is probably a prank, right?”

           “But that’s just it,” he sits forward urgently, “I can’t tell.”

           “Simon,” I tell him firmly, “if he does feel this way, then what better day to tell you than on a day you might not realize it’s true?”

           “But why wouldn’t he want me to realize?”

           “Oh, I don’t know,” I scoff, “maybe because you’ve been mortal enemies your whole life and he’s supposed to kill you and it would be bad enough if he thought you hated him but even worse if you didn’t?”

           He doesn’t respond, weighing the possibility in his mind.

           “Quick question.”

           “What?”

           “Who almost kissed whom?”

           He shakes his head.  “I’m not really sure anymore.”

           “Did you want to kiss him?”

           It’s a long moment before he gives the slightest of nods.  “Why would I want that, Penny?”

           I put a hand on his knee.  “Oh, Si,” I murmur sympathetically, “you know why.”

Baz

I only go to the room for a minute after lunch to grab a jacket, but when I get there, there’s a note on my bed.

Baz,

 

I love you too.

 

Simon

Of course I do.  How could I have doubted for a second that I did?

Baz

I avoid him for the rest of the day, spending most of it wandering the catacombs and when that gets boring, the Wavering Wood.  I climb to the top of the highest tree I can find and close my eyes, trying to remember how it felt yesterday.

           I don’t know if I should be reading into the note or not, but that’s probably my own fault.  I did it to him, so he did it to me, all on the one day of the year dedicated to practical jokes.

           Yet neither of us have actually said April Fool’s.

           I wait as long as I can to return to our room for the night, and by then it’s dark already.  Simon doesn’t appear to have come up yet, but the window is open, so he must have been here since I found his note.

           As I stare at the window, something dark and long swoops through the outside air lazily.

           I venture closer, and it swings by again, but this time I see what it is.  A dragon’s tail.

           Part of me wants to yank it hard and send him tumbling (his wings would save him anyway, no harm done), but I just poke my head out the window and find Simon on the roof, his tail dangling over the edge.

           “What in Merlin’s name are you doing up there?”

           “Turns out I like high places,” he replies without looking at me.  I should go back inside (I don’t have anything else to say), but the sky is clear tonight and the moon is hitting his curls in a new way and I could study them for hours.

           “What are you looking at?” he asks when he catches me staring.

           I shake myself out of my trance.  “Nothing,” I say, ducking to retreat back in.

           “You should come up.”

           “What?”

           “Up here, it’s a great view.”

           “I can see just fine from here, Snow.”

           “Yeah, but…” he trails off, still gazing out over the grounds, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

           “You can come down if you want to talk to me.”

           “Where’s the fun in that?”  He shoots me a shy smile like he’s not sure if it’s allowed. “Seriously, just get out here.”

           I peer over the windowsill to the moat.  “I’ll fall.”

           “No you won’t,” Simon scoffs, “I’ve seen you climb.”

           “And I fell.”

           “I’d catch you.”

           He won’t look at me again but I can tell he’s not going to take no for an answer.

           I look anywhere but down or at him as I scramble over the sill and up onto the roof, not taking the offered hand but not slapping it away either as I might have done yesterday.

           One almost-kiss and you’d think the world was turned upside-down.

           Well, two almost-kisses.

           I settle into place beside him, anchoring my feet so I won’t slide down the angled roof.  It’s really not the most comfortable position, and the night air is colder up here, but now that I’m here I can see what he was talking about.  The Wood is like a quilt draped over the land and the hills roll like waves into the distance.  “Not a bad view,” I concede.

           “Told you.”

           “It would be a shame if I were to push you off the roof right now.”

           “You won’t.”

           “You sure?”

           “Yes.”

           “Why?”

           “You just won’t.”

           I should, just to prove him wrong. Yesterday I might have.

           “Baz?”

           “Yes?”

           “Why haven’t we teamed up before?”

           I give a dark laugh.  “It might have something to do with being mortal enemies.”

           “Is that what we are?”

           “Well, it’s no secret that the Old Families want me to kill you.”

           “So why haven’t you?”

           “Are you getting impatient, Snow?”

           “You’ve had every opportunity, but even the times that you have legitimately tried, you’ve ended up saving me.”

           “I’ll make a note to stop doing that.”

           “Please don’t.”

           “I doubt we’d make a very good team, Snow,” I chuckle quietly.

           He looks genuinely curious.  “Why not?”

           “I think there has to be a certain level of trust in a team.”

           “I trust you.”

           I raise an incredulous eyebrow at him.  “I sold you out to a goblin yesterday, and now you trust me?”

           “It seems that way.”

           “Maybe that’s the reason we wouldn’t make a good team, because of your horrible decision-making skills.”

           Simon just laughs.  “You weren’t actually trying to kill me, and besides, look how it turned out.”

           My mind jumps straight to the almost-kiss at the top of the tree and I’m suddenly grateful for the darkness hiding my blush. “What do you mean?”

           “You killing that goblin,” he practically gushes, “that was incredible!”

           I shrug.  “Goblins are stupid, it wasn’t exactly difficult.”

           “Exactly. Imagine if we’d teamed up years ago, the Insidious Humdrum would be long gone by now.”

           “How boring our lives would be.”

           “We wouldn’t have to be enemies.”

           I look down at my legs.  “We’d still have to be enemies.”

           “We could be unlikely friends.”

           “No we couldn’t.”

           He glances at me carefully.  “Maybe not,” he agrees after a pause.

           Maybe he could be alright with friends, but I don’t know if I ever could.

           Fuck the Families.  Fuck the Mage.  Fuck the roles we’ve been given and the parts we have to play.  Fuck it all.  I just want you, Simon Snow.

           “Baz?”

           “Hm?”

           “Why did you have to write that letter today?”

           I don’t know if I’m shivering from the cold or the question, or both.  “I’ve already told you why.”

           “Why couldn’t you have written it tomorrow?”

           I cast him a sideways glance.  “You know that April Fool’s Day isn’t the one designated day of the year that I’m able to lie to you, right?  Saying it any other day wouldn’t make it true.”

           “If it were true,” he says slowly, “today would be the perfect day to say it without the risk of being taken seriously, right?”

           I shrug carefully.  “I suppose.”

           “Baz?”

           “What?”

           He looks me right in the eye.  “Did you mean it?”

           I hold his gaze.  “Why are you expecting the truth?”

           “Because I trust you.”

           “That’s right, I’d forgotten.”

           He waits expectantly.

           “It doesn’t matter what I say,” I sigh, “you won’t believe me.”  It’s the grave I’ve dug myself.

           “Baz?”

           I don’t answer, just meet his eyes.

           “Did you ever consider,” he murmurs, “even for a moment, the possibility that your letter would mean something to me?”

           I don’t speak, I can’t.

           “Or that maybe my note wasn’t a prank?”

           I gulp.  “The thought crossed my mind, but it was too ridiculous to entertain.”

           He shifts fractionally closer but I can already feel the energy start to crackle between us.  “It’s not that ridiculous.”

           “What are you saying?”

           Simon’s eyes are dark like indigo, his hair framed by the moon behind him.  “I think…”

           I can’t breathe as I wait for him to finish.

Simon

I don’t know if I can say it.  Writing it down is one thing, but saying it face-to-face, and this close…

           Baz’s eyes are silver, illuminated by the moon behind me.

 

Baz

“Do you know why I woke you from the nightmares?” he says suddenly, and I want to slap him for changing the subject.  (And then kiss his cheek.)  (And then kiss his mouth.)

           “Because I was keeping you from your beauty rest?”

           “Because you were scared, and… it hurt me to see you hurting like that.”

           He won’t look at me again, and I want to take his chin in my hand and make him meet my eye, but I stay still and wait.

           “When you had the nightmares,” he eventually continues, “you didn’t just say no a lot.”

           I already know where this is going.  “What else did I say?”

           “My name.  Simon.”

           Figures.  “I was afraid of that,” I nod.

           “Can I ask what you were dreaming about?”

           It takes a long time for me to answer.  “I had to kill you.”

           “And did you?”

           Just the thought brings tears to my eyes.

           “You don’t have to…”

           “Yes.  I did.” He’s silent as I take a ragged breath. “That’s why it’s my worst nightmare. I know I’ve been told all my life that I have to kill you, but if it ever really came to it, I want to think that I’d be brave enough to refuse.  But in my nightmares, I always give in.  Sometimes you kill me at the same time, and then at least I know I won’t have to carry on living in a world without you…”

“After I woke you,” he says a minute later, his voice getting quieter and quieter, “I hated myself for what I’d done to you.  I wanted to comfort you, to hold you until you fell asleep again, but I was too afraid.  When I walked away, it was like someone was ripping a piece out of me, and then I hated myself even more.  I thought the feeling would go away, but it didn’t.”  He looks me in the eye, and he looks terrified.  “It still hasn’t.”

He’s only inches away.  There’s tears in his eyes to match mine.  

“I think…” Simon moves even closer, “I think I meant what I wrote.”

My heart goes quiet, but I’ve never felt more alive.

“I know,” I whisper, “that I meant what I wrote.”

It’s taking everything in me right now not to fall against him.

I don’t miss his eyes as they flicker to my mouth and back up. When he speaks it’s less than a breath. “May I…”

“Please.”

He takes a handful of my shirt and pulls me down to him.

Simon

Baz tastes like citrus and wood smoke and I’m immediately lost in the scent.  His mouth is softer than I could have imagined and I want to be gentle, to move slowly, but I can’t stop myself from opening his mouth with mine.  I feel his sigh vibrate against my chin as I deepen the kiss and oh, it’s not enough.  I want to hear every sound he has, to explore every inch of him, to stay here forever discovering.  I know right now that I’ll never get enough.

Baz

Simon kisses me like he’s starving, like he can’t get enough, yet he’s gentle.  His mouth is slow and deep, and my hand is in his curls before I even know what I’m doing, angling his head and moving slow, like we have nothing but time.  The tears are spilling over from my eyes and I can feel the moisture of his own tears on his cheeks, but we’re both kissing through our grins, giddy and desperate for more.

Simon

Breaking away from him is like pulling the plug on life support, but he stays no more than a breath away.

“Are you shaking?” I whisper.

“It’s cold up here, Simon,” he murmurs back.  “Not everyone has an internal furnace like you apparently do.”

I grin and wrap my wings around the two of us.  “Call me that again.”

He presses a gentle kiss to my mouth.  “Simon,” he breathes, and I can’t stop myself from pulling him in again.

Baz keeps whispering my name between kisses, and I keep falling more and more in love with him.

we learned how to hide it, how to chomp back the bit of girls, braid the secret deep in our hair and leave it. we doodled two girls kissing and gave one short hair. made stick figures with only one in a dress. we tried not to stare too long at the tv when she was pretty because we sensed innately something was wrong with us. we watched the scene where she’s laughing maybe sixteen times before we felt creepy. we sang the lyrics loudly and in public changed the pronouns. in private we wrote our own songs that were tuneless and featured only her name ached out in music. we danced around the subject, we said, “ew that’s gay,” we identified as ally sometimes but wrinkled our nose if everyone else did in the room. and we were lonely. and terrified. like lying to a jury. like if we messed up for a moment we would be sentenced to the guillotine. on private blogs we wrote poems about the cloud girls we wished we could kiss, we google-searched “how to know if i’m a lesbian”, we made fake yahoo accounts to ask why looking at her made our stomach sick. in public it was different, the art of “no i don’t have a boyfriend,” or even worse, the art of pretending to find boys remotely interesting. the savage lies that curled into us until even we no longer knew what was fact and what was fiction. and that bitter anger we saw in others - always at ourselves, and our failures.

anonymous asked:

They shy characters do nothing for me except serve to annoy me. The manga and anime made me dislike her not to mention her stans. They try to claim that she "supported" him from day one but she never actually talked to him I don't care if she's shy she could have mustered up some confidence to actually TALK to Naruto when he was younger even if she stuttered when talking to him it's the effort that counts but no she gets credit for just standing from behind a tree & that automatically = support

[Long post ahead]

I feel like this issue in particular needs a longer answer than just a simple statement of agreement. Because yes, I agree with that. The reason being, that people like Sakura get bashed and thrown under the bus for supposedly not supporting Naruto even though she’s in the top three of his most loyal supporters. In terms of support being shown on panel, I would even go as far as saying Sakura did the most. And I do not appreciate the fact that characters like Sakura, Tsunade, Iruka and Gaara get ignored or even bashed while Hinata gets praised to all heavens by the fandom. The Naruto fandom is extremely selective and biased.

Kishi has stated in an interview that Hinata has been supporting Naruto from the shadows since the start. Notice how he says ‘from the shadows’. It confirms what we critical thinkers have been saying for years. 
Hinata may have been supportive of Naruto in her mind since the beginning, but it did nothing for Naruto, it did not help him at all during his early childhood. It’s no different from people ignoring him or being mean to him because in his mind she was just one of those who ignored him. I would even say that by admiring Naruto from afar for his strength and optimism, all while not being confident/strong enough to voice those beliefs to him to sooth his pain and give him back what she got from him through watching him, she was supporting herself more than Naruto. 
Support is not support when the person who needs to be supported isn’t actually aware of it and doesn’t gain anything positive from it.

So up until the moment Hinata tries to make Naruto copy from her test in the chunin exams, she hasn’t supported him on panel at all.

And this gets confirmed by the many instances Naruto remembers his past in flashbacks and the reader gets to see how he got from being alone and sad to being with Iruka and then with team 7. All the others AND Hinata come after that. Not before.
Most famous example being this page:

This is also proven by Hinata’s first appearance in the manga, when Naruto calls her weird. He has no recollection of her supporting him or being nice to him in a significant way.
And that’s despite the fact that Hinata knew how Naruto had been treated by the villagers, as shown during Naruto’s fight with Kiba when it’s shown in a flashback from Hinata’s POV. Once again she doesn’t voice those thoughts though. After the fight she gives him some ointment for his wounds.

The first time Hinata actually supports Naruto openly that could have or had a positive effect on him was during her ‘Proud failure’ speech. She helps Naruto believe in himself. And he thanks her for that.

We won’t see her support him again for a while. In fact, not until her confession during the Pain invasion. And even there, she calls herself selfish and does not actually voice support for him, she just confesses and gets hurt by Pain. 

Later on, she tries supporting him through giving it her all in the war and helping him snap out of depression after Neji’s death.
If I missed something, feel free to correct me.


Now, moving on to Sakura. When Sakura gets first introduced in chapter 3, she’s rude to Naruto who seems to like her very much. She even goes as far as to say he has it great with no parents scolding him and that this is why he does childish stuff a lot. However, she changes her mind in the very same chapter and vows to be kinder to Naruto from now on, with Sasuke being the catalyst for that change.

A few chapters later we see her share her meal with him.

Ah. You know what, let me try to find every moment she has helped him and/or supported him and his dream. Without me talking in between.

Part 1 finished. Part 2 under the cut.

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I Love You || Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by diytae

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTENT CONTAINS VERY MATURE THEMES AND INCLUDES MENTIONS OF DEATH AND SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UPSET EASILY. 

AN: I’m really being serious about this one guys. So much so that I’m putting the authors note here instead of at the end like usual. This imagine is not meant for people who are easily upset and it’s not meant to hurt anyone, it’s purely for the reader who requested it. If you do not feel comfortable with the above mentioned themes please let me know and I can make another version for everyone. 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Angst 


Jungkookie, I’m so excited for you! You’re going on tour and you’re going to have so much fun. Make sure you blow all of your fans kisses and give all of them love. Without them you wouldn’t have made it this far so remember to be grateful. Anyways, I love you. Be safe!

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Meant For Each Other

Originally posted by robinllordtaylor


Pairing: Bucky x Reader (female)

Summary: reader is finishing school while trainer with The Avengers. She and Bucky are close friends and both have feelings for each other but are too afraid to say anything. When reader is injured during a mission drill, Bucky insists on taking care of her. Feelings surface more and they are forced to discuss the situation. 

Warnings: injuries, blood (i think), mentions of self doubt, LOTS of FLUFF 
also, I didn’t edit this so I apologize if there are any mistakes.


*Reader POV* 

“Can you not, Stark?” I said as Tony continued to probe me with his new invention. 

“I need to test it on someone,” he replied. 

“Well, I’m not in the mood to be poked and shocked.” 

“It;s not shocking you. It’s sending waves through your body to see how it effects the neural system. And it looks like it’s giving negative feedback.” 

“Why don’t you do this to Steve or Bucky. Someone who won’t be brain damaged if it doesn’t work.” 

Just as I said that, Bucky walked into the room and said, “my brain has been tampered with enough already so I think I’ll pass.” 

I felt like an idiot for saying what I said. But how could I have known Bucky was going to walk into the room? 

I felt my heart stop, and skip a beat. I’ve liked Bucky for longer than I can remember. He was my best friend, which made it harder to hold those feelings back. Other than Steve, I am the only one who has seen Bucky as himself. The nightmares, the good days, the bad days. That goofy he smile he gets when we joke around. And all the intimate moments we’ve had. 

Not intimate like sex, even though I dream about more often than I care to admit. But intimate like telling our dreams and fears. When I fall sleep next to him, or when he comforts me, or vice versa. Those to me are way more intimate than having sex because you have to be able to trust the person to not betray you when you let your guard down. 

Bucky and I are close. We do things like a couple. He cares for me and is over protective, and so am I. But neither one of us has mentioned feelings. Despite what Steve says, I am afraid to lose what I already have with Bucky. So I keep my mouth shut. 

Tony hit another button on his toy and it sent another shock through my body. “Dammit, Tony. Get these things off my face,” I said. “I’ve had a really bad day and I just want to relax.” 

“But I-” 

“Tony, take it off. She’s looking pale and like she’s ready to pass out,” Bucky said. He had that look in his eyes. The one he has when he’s on the verge of getting angry. None of us dare to mess with him when he has that look. 

“Fine,” Tony said and detached me from his device and left the common room. 

I sighed and stood up, walking past Bucky and to my room. I shut the door, not realizing that Bucky may have wanted to talk. But the day I had was shit and I just needed to be alone for a few minutes since Tony took up most of my time I was supposed to have for myself. 

I laid down on my bed and drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

About an hour later, I heard a light knock on my door. It woke me from my slumber, but I was too groggy to move. I knew it was Bucky. It was never anyone else. 

The door opened and shut. I felt the bed dip, and the cool touch of Bucky’s metal hand. He took the spot next to me, then pulled me onto him so my head was resting on his chest. I took in his familiar scent and immediately felt comforted. 

“How are you feeling,” he asked. “Did the nap help?” 

“Well, it wasn’t finished so I wouldn’t know.” I meant it as a joke, but I was still tired and mumbled the words and it didn’t have the effect I wanted it to. 

“Awe, I’m sorry,” he cooed. He brushed his lips over the top of my head. But that’s all it was. A brush. Never quite a kiss. 

“It’s okay. I just had a long day and coming home to Tony’s bullshit didn’t help at all. 

“What happened at school today?” 

I yawned and said, “I have a history final coming up in a week and my professor gave us a mock exam today for practice and I completely blew it. I got like maybe a quarter of the answers correct and this shit is worth fifty percent of my grade. I’m screwed, Buck.” 

“No, you’re not,” he said, his flesh hand massaging my back. “I’ll help you study. Did you forget that I’m a century old? I lived through half the stuff your learning. I even caused some of it…” he said the last sentence kind of hushed. 

“Oh yeah. You don’t look a day over ninety-nine,” I joked. 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” I said and looked up at his face. His icy blue eyes stared down at me and I watched as a smile crept onto his face. “What?” I asked. 

“Nothing. There’s just a certain glow about you tonight.” 

I looked away, embarrassed and my cheeks turning hot. I love it when he compliments me like that. I sat up and stared forward. I tried to supress the ecstatic smile with a small one. 

“Was it something I said?” 

“What? Oh, no. Not at all, Buck. You’re just one of the very few people that actually treat me like a person.” 

“You are a person, (y/n). You’re my person. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

I smiled again. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. We leaned into each other, but stopped a few inches short. “I… uhh… I’m gonna get something to eat. Do you want anything?” 

“No,” I said. “I’m not hungry. I think I’ll just get ready for bed.” I was slightly disappointed that what I wanted ti happen, didn’t. 

“Alright. Get some rest. Don’t forget we have that mission drill in the morning.” I nodded. Bucky got up and started making his way to the door. “Come get me if you need anything.” I nodded again and Bucky. I fell back on my bed and groaned. 

“Just tell him,” I heard Steve shout from his bedroom which was next to mine. I rolled my eyes and groaned again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I groaned and stood up. Tony just blasted me with one of the new cannons on his suit. “I’m on your team, you idiot!” I shouted. 

“I’m sorry. I guess I like using you as a test dummy,” he shouted back. 

“Fuck off, Stark!” 

“(y/n), watch your language,” Steve said as he walked up behind me. “We need to get the flag.” 

“So this is a game of capture the flag. How mature.” 

“Essentially, yes. But in this case the flag is supposed to represent a new, highly dangerous weapon.” 

“And we want it why?” 

“So the bad guys don’t get it and take over the world,” he said and gave me a small smile. 

“Got it,” I nodded. I watched as Tony blasted the Hulk into the air. 

“I’ll take the left and create a diversion. You’ll take the right. You’ll need to keep an eye out for Nat, but Vision with have you covered for the most part. Bucky will be waiting for you on the other side. Then you two need to get passed Hawkeye and take the weapon. Got it?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” I ran out. I took my gun and shot a water tank sitting near by. The thing exploded and water pooled onto the street, soaking Thor completely. 

I saw Bucky, and I thought I was in the clear when Nat roundhouse kicked me to the ground. 

“You need to have eyes everywhere,” she advised. “But good call on the water tank.” 

It took me a few minutes, but eventually I got her tired enough. One good blow to her face sent her to the ground long enough for me to reach Bucky. I took off after that. But the Hulk picked me up and through me fifty feet to where Bucky was. I hit hard. I couldn’t move at first, then I felt a cool metal hand on my skin. 

“(y/n), are you okay?” 

“I can’t move, Bucky. My… my chest. And my head.” 

Bucky touched my right side and I screamed. “You might have broken a couple of ribs.” 

“The flag…” 

“Forget the flag. You need medical attention.” 

“What’s going on,” Steve asked. 

“(y/n)’s down,” Bucky responded. She can’t move.” 

“Alright. She’s done. Take her to the med bay and I’ll take over from here.” 

Bucky picked me up gently and carried me back. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

I laid in my bed in pain. I had a concussion and three cracked ribs. I was beyond irritated. I was doing so well and for me to blow a fake mission… Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a part of the Avengers.  

I stood up, wincing as I moved. My ribs didn’t hurt as much as they did when it first happened. I was trying to find my history notebook and textbook. I figured I should study if I was going to be stuck in bed for the next couple of days. I remembered I had left them in my backpack. It was hard to bend over, so I squatted down. But before I could reach my bag, someone took hold of my arm and pulled me up. I turned to find Bucky. He had insisted on taking care of me. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Getting my notebook.” 

“You need to get back in bed,” he said sternly. 

“I need to study,” I said back. 

“(y/n), don’t argue with me. Get back in bed.” 

“No,” I deadpanned and turned back towards my bag. I winced as I tried to bend down again. 

“Why are you always so stubborn?” 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re not my boss, you’re not my boyfriend. You can’t tell me what to do!” I stared at Bucky’s face. I don’t yell at him often. Especially not like that. But these injuries have made me very irritable and the fact that I’ve been around Bucky for most of the day didn’t help either.  

“Guess I’ll have to change that then,” he growled. His hands came up to my face and he crashed his lips against mine. His lips were softer than I imagined. He kissed me slowly, passionately. I would have wrapped my arms around his neck, but lifting them would hurt too much. So I just clutched his shirt in my fists. He tasted so good. Sweet and warm. Like freshly made cotton candy. He pulled away and rested his forehead on mine. “Please, get back in bed,” he asked gently. 

“Okay,” was all I said. He helped me back into bed. He sat next to me, sitting so that I could rest on his chest comfortably. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” I said. “I’m just… I’m mad at myself. I’ve been doing so well in training and then I blow a fake mission. It makes me think that I’m not meant for this. And I’m a coward because I was never able to admit my feelings for you, and then they just kept piling up. And school… I know I’m doing good, but I can feel myself slipping and I don’t know what to do.” 

Bucky kissed the top of my head. Finally. “You were picked for this team for a reason. It was just a fluke. Banner should have never tossed you like that. It wasn’t your fault. And school, I’ll help you with that. I already told you I would.” He paused. “And I was no better with confessing my feelings. I’ve loved you longer than I can remember. I was scared of losing you by saying anything, so I just didn’t.” 

“I love you too, Bucky.” 

“Good,” he said and kissed my head again. “Whatever it is, we can get through it together. As for studying, you have time. Right now you need to sleep and recover from your head injury.” 

“Fine,” I yawned. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll be right here. I’m not gonna go anywhere. Except maybe the bathroom at some point…” 

I chuckled, and then sucked in a breath of pain. “Don’t make me laugh! It hurts too much.” 

Bucky chuckled in return. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep my charm to a minimum.” 

I rolled my eyes, but kept a smile on my face. 

“Sweet dreams, doll.” 

“Hmm,” I hummed before I fell asleep in Bucky’s arms


The whole “kids can’t be ace” is disturbing on a totally different plane.

Like, it could very well be truscum like fear springing up of “ meh meh meh too many identities ur all just trying to be cool when you’re really not these identities,” but the other option, which seems really fucking obvious to me, is that these people clearly don’t see asexuality as a real orientation. They think of it as some sort of cult that aces are initiating people into or some bullshit.

I don’t know how you can divorce this logic from its homophobic origins, but there it is. They push these ideas that learning about asexuality will somehow brainwash kids into identifying as ace. They think kids exposed to one of many options somehow will convince them to pick this one, or that aces are somehow recruiting lmao.

Someone identifying as ace has good fucking reasons. They have to recognize a difference between them and the people around them to even be looking for a label, and age doesn’t make that label any less useful in their situations. Ace kids are going to identify as ace.

The others who you seem to think are adopting “new” identities willy nilly because somehow the stigma of it makes it appealing (???) are certainly no more likely to choose asexuality over any other identity.

Its disturbing, because it’s clear y'all think two things: that asexuality is a club they’re “recruiting” to, not a real inborn identity that people have no control over just like any other orientation, and that its not an identity people should be using ever regardless. That people should not learn about it even if they are ace.

People, of any age, have a right to choose the words to describe their experiences, and people looking for those words have the right to be educated about them. I don’t know who died and made you decide you could be the grand judges of what realities people are allowed to learn about, but restricting access to identities in some sort of power play is directly from the book of your oppressors and nothing else. It won’t stop aces from realizing themselves; but it WILL make a bunch of young people confused, ostracized and alone, much longer than they need to be.

I mostly just post other people’s dreams, but yesterday I had a dream that I think was worth sharing, so I’m gonna do that. 

I was shopping for a dress, and it was somehow really important what I chose for myself, because I was not shopping for just any dress, I was shopping for The Perfect Dress. I don’t even know why there was so much emphasis on this, but it had to be just right.

I found a couple of options that I really liked, and they were all so gorgeous in my dream, Marchesa Spring 2012 kind of gorgeous.

I finally chose one after a long debate with my entourage (why did I even have an entourage for shopping?), but the dress suddenly disappeared and I could no longer remember what it looked like, no matter how hard I tried, and that somehow made me vaguely aware that I was dreaming, but I couldn’t do anything about it and went searching for the dress regardless.

The rest of the dream was just me being lost in a giant dress shop, trying to find the dress from before and failing to remember where I left it or what it looked like. I just knew that all the dresses I stumbled upon were not the one.

This is even funnier if you take into consideration that I am actually a fast and easy shopper, I see something I like and I buy it without trying it on because I like buying loose clothes, so I can never go wrong with a size bigger than I normally wear, and I’m usually done with shopping after a couple of minutes.

2

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Summary: Ten years ago, Peter Pan left Neverland to grow up, leaving behind his adolescent dreams of boyhood and resigning himself to life as Wendy Darling. Growing up, however, has only made him realize how inescapable his identity as a man is.

But when he returns to Neverland, everything has changed: the Lost Boys have become men, and the war games they once played are now real and deadly. Even more shocking is the attraction Peter never knew he could feel for his old rival, Captain Hook—and the realization that he no longer knows which of them is the real villain.

Thoughts: Wow. I loved this book. The plot is quick but well-paced, the tension between Hook and Pan is searing, and the portrayal of Peter as a trans boy is brilliant and powerful. What begins as Peter’s next fairytale adventure ends as a charming love story between two men who escaped to Neverland to forget the pain in their real lives.

Warnings: Transphobia from Peter’s family, dysphoria, action violence and death of minor characters

“Jungkook Cheated.” Finale 2 of 2 - Alternative Ending ~

Part. 1 ☜  ☞ Part. 2 ☜ ☞ Part. 3 ☜ ☞ Part. 4 ☜ ☞ Finale 1 of 2 ☜ Finale 1 of 2 Alternative Ending ✓


Y/N’s p.o.v ~

It’s been three days since he last messaged me, it’s been five since we broke up and our meant to be 3rd year is in two days time, not that it even matters anymore, but a part of me wants him to try harder. Wanting to reconcile, to have some sort of closure between us. I miss him - more than I could ever explain with words, it feels empty without him, I feel as though there’s a huge hole in my heart that even with time it won’t heal because it’s that badly damaged. I want him back, what he did was wrong, and I shouldn’t take him back but I don’t want to throw away what we had. What we had was beautiful, so incredible that it still makes my heart skip a beat every time I think back on those dates, those moments we had.

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