i hate this fic with everything in me

anonymous asked:

Quick reminder that when you look at your writing and feel like deleting it all, at any given time there is at least one reader (me) lying in bed, smiling at the screen and clinging to their phone while your words light up a completely fucking shitty existense. Your words are magic. Even when you hate them. Please don't take them away.

Nonnie, where is this coming from??? Bless you and your wee cotton socks! *smooches your forehead*

This was….really, really nice to hear. It makes me so happy to think something, anything, I have written has brightened up your day. It makes everything I have written worth it, just to think I might have made someone’s day a little less crap. I know there are fics that have helped me like that and those fics have meant so much. I hope you’ve had a good day today, nonnie, but please know you are always welcome to come and talk to me via messages if you ever need someone to talk to or a pick me up.


iamnmbr3  asked:

kylux + 20 if you so desire

List of prompts

Ask me things

20. breaking the rules

They’ve talked about this. Hux promised, and now…now push has come to shove, and he can’t. He hates that he can’t–hates everything his life has come to, the smouldering wreckage of himself–but that doesn’t change the fact. It’s as immutable as the Force itself, at least the Force according to Ren.

If it ever happens again, I want you to make sure to leave me behind.

This from Ren, after he returns from Snoke–after Starkiller, after Hux has worked himself nearly blind working through the aftermath whilst staying on top of the present.

Ren, what you’re asking–

You have your rules, I have mine. Leave me behind.

And if the Leader orders otherwise?

Ren’s face, tight and miserable.

He won’t.

Keep reading

vitkyas  asked:

all the fics I'm reading (because of your blog) are in the angst-momento and I hate u so much bc of that omg, I know how you feel but everything is gonna be ok, ok? I need the new chapter so so so so bad (or more slow burn fics tho)

Literally angst follows me wherever I go… I can’t escape it

When they don't finish the fic

Me: ahh I NEED TO READ A FIC! Oh this one looks good!

(5 hours and 34 chapters later)

Me: Oh my god this is AWES- it’s unfinished…when’s the next chap- NO

Last updated: January 2010

Me: oh just FUCK OFF! WHY WHY DID YOU DO THIS?! they didn’t kiss yet?! THEY DIDN’T EVEN KISS WHY I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THIS TRANSGRESSION AGAINST ME I HATE EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW WHATS HAPPENED! Never mind I will never read fanfic again! I swear ao3 you are dead to me.

(2 minutes later)

Me: oh this fic looks interesting…


So I’m angry at everything and the world and I’m especially angry

about the fucking fanfic called I Hate Love You.

I was going to do the n///ame thing so it won’t come up in tags but lol sorrynotsorry this kind of needs to be seen so here we go

Let me just come right out and say it: This fanfic is problematic because it deals with abuse, victim-blaming (so much fucking victim blaming), drugging, manipulation, blackmailing, and a whole bunch of other problems.

If you read this fic, and even if you don’t, I really fucking hope you don’t sympathize with Adrien past the first half of the first chapter or whatever.

This version of Adrien doesn’t deserve forgiveness, happiness, a second chance. He doesn’t deserve sympathy. The next thing you’re gonna tell me is that if some man drugged a girl in real life and took suggestive photos to blackmail her with, that he should be forgiven for it if he “does everything he can to get forgiveness.” If you wouldn’t sympathize with someone who does that to your friend or any stranger, then you’d better not fucking sympathize with it in this fic.

“Oh but Megatraven!! Fanfiction isn’t real, sweaty!!!” you say.

Yeah, fanfic isn’t real. But do you know what is? Being affected by a fanfic. If people think what’s happening in this fic is okay, they’re going to wind up romanticizing abuse and won’t see it as a problem when it is. Fanfic can impact a person’s mind and thoughts, just like reading any book can.

There are a lot of younger people in the fandom, people who aren’t even out of high school yet, and when a fic as popular as this victim-blames and makes a sympathizer out of you for a very abusive person, then it’s going to affect the way they think. They’re going to go out in the world (or maybe experience it young, even) and they’re going to get hurt and be expected to forgive someone that hurt them for fear of being blamed for it all.

In this fanfiction, Marinette made one mistake. Just one. She snapped at him. Then she apologized. But he decided to make her life hell.

He made her look bad in front of everyone.

He drove away her friends, or made them (Alya included) try to convince her to be nice to him.

He abused his miraculous’ power to get in good with Marinette (who was crushing on him) and made her trust him.

He stole her first kiss as Adrien, and her second as Chat Noir near immediately after.

He drugged her so that she would stay sleeping, and then proceeded to touch her (without consent!!!) to make sure he got some nice photographs that made it look like she was taking advantage of him and proceeded to blackmail her into being his girlfriend with them.

Nobody heard her cries for help, they just saw them and went “awww cute couple!”

He apparently fell in love with her through all of this. (That’s really fucking unhealthy and disgusting, falling in love with the girl you’re manipulating and abusing and forcing to be with you.)

She found out he was Chat Noir, and was rightfully upset and devastated and hurting. She made him stay away from her, and she told him what he is- a monster who doesn’t deserve to say he loves her or is sorry or full of regret.

TIKKI! OH BOY GUYS, LISTEN TO WHAT TIKKI FUCKING SAID. SHE SAID “Aww he tried to apologize!” BECAUSE APPARENTLY SAYING “SORRY FOR DESTROYING YOU AND ABUSING YOU” MEANS YOU SHOULD FORGIVE HIM. She also tries to defend him. “Maybe he was just confused?” Yeah fucking right.

Anyways, he felt bad, so he told Nino, Alya, and Chloe what he did to her. Nino tries to defend his actions a tiny bit, Alya is furious, and Chloe wants to help him fix the situation.

Tikki lectures Marinette on forgiving him for herself, not for him, but you know???? You don’t have to fucking forgive anybody if you don’t want to. Maybe it works for some people, but it doesn’t work for everyone.



And then

And fucking then

they decide to make Marinette and Adrien meet. Because, you know, Marinette’s unhappiness is because she’s only heartbroken, not because she was drugged, abused, manipulated, used, etc. Because seeing her abuser and talking things out is the only way to solve the problem.

They made her sit down and eat lunch with him or some shit

god there’s so much more and i stopped reading around here because I couldn’t fucking deal anymore, but i’ve watched some live reads of it and also skimmed some of the time and basically

Adrien gives her space and time and when they get together again, because Marinette somehow still loves him, he gets super clingy and over protective and Marinette doesn’t like it at all. She needs more space and time and he tires to give it to her, all the while victim-blaming and guilting her because he’s “done everything [he] can to earn her forgiveness” wHEN HE SHOULD DAMN WELL KNOW HE HASN’T

he ends up giving her his miraculous and leaves france for a few years?? Plagg is a fucking asshole and tells Marinette he gave up his happiness for her own as if he deserves happiness after everything that happened

So anyways

A lot of the readers (if you don’t believe me, read the comments on the fic holy shit) find that Marinette is being a bitch who should forgive Adrien because he’s said sorry and given her a few things

and they find Adrien as a perfect little angel who did some bad things but doesn’t deserve how he’s being treated now because apparently Mari said they was okay but decides she wasn’t ready to completely forgive him yet and that she needs more space.

They think what he’s done for forgiveness and out of ‘’’’love’’’’ means what he did to her doesn’t matter anymore

Let’s also, just for a moment, touch on this very problematic thing:







the author also says “ After [these polls] please, don’t come shouting to me that you’ve got traumatized because the story is so … “traumatizing”. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.”



I don’t fucking care if you personally don’t find this shit problematic, it doesn’t change the fact that it is.

Unfollow me if you sympathize with Adrien in this fic. Unfollow me or talk to me so that I can explain in more detail why he does not deserve sympathy, forgiveness, happiness, or really anything people seem to think he does.

Edit: I know I didn’t put everything I could have into this, but trust that there is a ton more wrong in that story.

a million universes away (lams oneshot)

summary: Alexander Hamilton was never one for sobriety; all he really wanted was a hookup. John Laurens was quite the opposite, yet they found their way into the same bed on the same night, and perhaps Alexander should have learned his lesson. But he didn’t.

word count: 1724

When the lights flickered at the edges and the world seemed to glow, bathed in a warm yellow light, that was as close as Alexander reckoned he would ever get to peace of mind. He lost his mind under the glow, with one hand clutching a bottle of beer and the other draped around the shoulders of a boy who wouldn’t matter come morning. Every thought had been wiped from his mind, replaced by a hazy cloud drifting about his head.

Alexander lived for these nights. He lived for the pure bliss of it all, for the closeness of another body. A hand to hold, a heart to beat beside his own. Company; someone to share the night with.

He was twenty two, yet he traveled through time as though it didn’t exist at all.

Bottle pressed to his lips, he took a swig, and he was fifteen, drink in hand. The first time he’d ever experienced what it was like to be drunk. It had been a glowing red and white affair of both passion and innocence, for there had been a girl. There was always someone, but back then it had been a girl, one whose name Alexander couldn’t quite recall in his mess of a mind. They’d kissed, that much he was sure of. Red. A red tinted room, the red lipstick smeared on Alexander’s face: a tattoo, of sorts.

Yet, it was the first. The first drink, the first kiss, the first time to have seen a girl in such a manner, wild and free. The firstness of it all added that sprinkle of naivety to the hazy and almost forgotten memory.

“Where’s your mind at?”

The sound of a voice, a real one, broke through Alexander’s mind as he set the bottle down on the bedside table.

“Nowhere.” Alexander’s words came out slurred as he struggled to come up with a satisfactory answer.

“What are you thinking?” The boy tried once more in an attempt to break through the wall of silence Alexander had created.

With arms encircled around the boy, it was as though Alexander didn’t plan on ever letting him go- and despite every ounce of common sense left in him, he would have quite enjoyed that. He pulled the boy closer, pinning him against the cream colored walls of the bedroom, and he let himself kiss him, allowing his body to take control and let go of his mind.

The boy was the night itself. Warm, like the moon, and with the sharp bite of the stars. And Alexander, he was the darkness, the formidably vast blanket concealing the stars from view. He’d stolen them away; for tonight, the boy was his.

Alexander fell back against the mattress, breathless but, at least for the moment, content. Yet the boy remained rooted firmly to the ground, eyes fixed intently upon Alexander’s.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked, words only slightly slurred together.

“Unimportant.” Alexander dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, and he motioned for the boy to join him in bed.

“I can’t fuck you if I don’t know your name.” He was persistent; Alexander liked to think that he was more so.

“And I can’t fuck you if you do,” Alexander countered. His voice came out as a soft whine. Begging, pleading for the boy to join him.

“I’m John.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into the hint of a smirk; he seemed to be mocking Alexander, yet he wasn’t quite sure how.

He relented at John’s smile, letting out a defeated sigh. “Alex.” He settled for his high school nickname. It was only a word, after all, a small price to pay to the boy who’d made his world disappear for the night.

And so John joined him, and Alexander found his mind to become a void. There was nothing left, with nothing to be desired.

He distanced himself from his thoughts until his mind and body might’ve been two different things all together. He’d simply chosen not to pay attention to the swirling mess inside his head and to focus instead on the external world.

The room seemed to resonate gold. Not the polished, fake gold that you’d see up on display- not preened and ground down to perfection. It was the sort of gold you found yourself, the great shimmering lumps beneath the earth. A last hope.

Alexander grasped at a handful of the sheet as if hoping for something to anchor him to reality, but the pull was too strong. He surrendered to it.

He let himself feel both what was there and what wasn’t. He let himself feel John’s body pressed up against his, for that was all that was left: two men and a shared drink.

Alexander drew his mind to an alternate universe, one in which the same Alexander and the same John were having sex in the same bed, but in a vastly different context. Perhaps they were dating, or even just friends. They had some sort of relationship, at the very least, one in which they genuinely cared for one another, rather than just for the company that was provided.

With a beautiful face in mind, a beautiful time, and a beautiful place, Alexander came. The place wasn’t perhaps his rundown apartment, and the face not quite matching John’s, but it would do for his late night fantasy.

There was small hint of a smile dancing across his face; it hadn’t seen the world in quite some time, yet this was a mere ghost of one, not entirely real. It was somewhat faked, more for John’s benefit than his own, but Alexander found himself to be content as he lie in bed next to John.

“I should go.” John exhaled gently, breath warm against Alexander’s cheek.

“Don’t.” Alexander let his hands move of their own accord, tracing the shape of John’s face. “Don’t leave.”

He didn’t care so much for John; it could have been anyone in bed with him, but what mattered was that they stayed. Not forever, but the night. It longed for the comfort of someone to share it with.

John gave him the obligatory smile. “You’re quite beautiful, you know.”

It was evident that those words meant nothing; John had only said that because he’d felt like he had to. Just like they both had to smile and laugh and pretend as though they didn’t find anything wrong with this.

Alexander breathed out a shaky sigh. “I’m not beautiful.” He met John’s gaze from behind dark eyelashes, wet with tears that he hadn’t yet noticed.

“Don’t cry, love.” John ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair, eyes full of false concern. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

“Don’t call me pretty.” There was an unmistakable note of anger in Alexander’s voice, causing John’s mouth to turn downwards into a frown, confused at how Alexander had taken the compliment as quite the opposite.

He wasn’t pretty; he was a mess. He was good for a one night stand, good to have a drink with, but he certainly wasn’t pretty. There was nothing to be desired in him, with unwashed hair and empty eyes. Nothing beautiful about the undeniable fact that he couldn’t survive without a drink in hand.

“You are,” John insisted, not yet having picked up on what exactly was going on. “And you’re not bad in bed either.”

It was all of seven seconds before John smiled again; Alexander counted each and every one, waiting for that warm glow to spread over his face. People were more attractive when they weren’t frowning.

“That’s just about the only thing I’m not bad at.” The light, airy tone suggested that he was joking, but his face conveyed the deeper meaning. “I’d love to feel something for you. For anyone.”

“I like you,” John told him, gazing longingly into Alexander’s eyes.

Alexander shook his head. “You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.” He was hopeful, smiling as though he had already fallen in love.

This wasn’t love; Alexander was smart enough to know that. Love ought to have meant more than just a stolen kiss in the dark, a mindless fuck.

“I think you should leave.” Alexander found himself speaking the words before he’d even considered the affect they might have had. He didn’t want to face the lonely reality of his life, the empty room, the overwhelming silence- but this was more than he’d bargained for.

“I’m sorry.” John pushed himself up off of the bed, gathering his clothes from off the floor. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Just go,” Alexander interrupted, refusing to meet John’s gaze for fear that he’d lose the last shred of self control in him and find himself unable to resist the temptation.

“I…” John trailed off when he saw the look on Alexander’s face.

He dressed himself in silence before giving Alexander one more fleeting glance and disappearing into the night.

Alexander found himself with nothing to do, the walls seemingly closing in as the moments passed.

He was alone, a rare occurrence.

He sat, with little regard for anything at all. Perhaps the time passed, perhaps it didn’t; Alexander paid little attention to such a trivial matter as time.

Searching for something to love, he fell. It was his weakness, loving people, or in this particular case, not loving people.

Perhaps he’d been harsh. Perhaps he ought to have paid more thought to John, to all of his hookups. He jumped up, running in the direction in which John had left, but it had been too long since John had walked out that door.

He stood in the doorway, desperately scanning the street for the boy he knew was long gone. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love; when had loving someone ever resulted in anything but disaster?

Alexander was far from happy, his pain eating him from inside, yet it was so far from him. After all that time he’d spent distancing himself from his emotions, he reckoned it was near impossible to undo that.

Yet, he allowed himself to smile. He allowed himself to dream of the possibility of loving someone.

And perhaps lost up in the millions of universes out there, was a world in which he could scan the crowd and catch a face that he truly longed to see.

All I Want For Christmas

Seth Rollins/OC: For the 25 Days of Chrismuts! Things get smutty while decorating. With choking bc is it really Chrimmus without choking? I don’t think so.

Okay so this is for @tox-moxley‘s 25 days of Chrismuts @25daysofchrismuts It was funsies and I loved it and I love writing about Seth so this was perect. Shoutout to my best bae @screamersdontdance for helping me fit choking into a Chrimmus fic!!!!!! I love you, thank you.

So here it is friends. Smutty Chrimmus with Seth. Aka my life goals.

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Paint Me In A Million Dreams - Sneak Peek

I’ve been working a lot on the fic, and if everything goes well, I should be able to start posting in about two weeks. I guess it’s safe to share a first sneak peak from the first chapter! 

He could always refuse the offer.

Harry pursed his lips, one finger swiping over the bottom one. He put his car back in gear when the lights switched to green.

Of course, that would be stupid. No one refused any part in a Scorsese production. The plain thought was ridiculous. It was horrifying that Harry even entertained the idea.

According to Nick’s contact person, everyone had been surprised by Tomlinson’s performance. No one had taken his audition seriously, until the moment he had stood on stage. Harry couldn’t even imagine it, but apparently, Tomlinson had convinced them all in the mere ten minutes he’d been on stage. Which was odd, because he wasn’t actually known for quality acting.

As far as Harry was concerned, Tomlinson was not to be taken seriously. Harry could appreciate a good romantic comedy, but those didn’t require what a Scorsese required. They didn’t even come close.

Sighing, Harry parked in front of the restaurant’s entrance and handed his keys over to a clerk when he got out. He thanked him quietly and made his way inside.

“Mr Styles. Welcome,” a woman greeted him. “Mr Horan is waiting for you. If you may follow me?”

Approaching the table, Harry saw Niall already seated, sipping some beer and typing on his mobile.

“Who’s preparing my food if you’re out here?” he asked upon sitting down.

Niall looked up, grinning broadly. “I only ever cook in front of cameras anymore.”

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The Words I’ll Never Speak (Lin x  Reader)

Summary: The lights went down and all that mattered in the dimly lit room was you, Lin, and a piano in desperate need of tuning.

Word Count: 1389 (short, i know)

A/N: this isn’t an update for Kiss It Better but this was sort of in the back of my head for a while begging me to write it. It’s my first time writing a character x reader fic, so don’t hate me if its horrible lol. i originally meant it to be longer but i prefer it this way because theres not a lot of unnecessary things, of course theres detail, but not the sort of thing that takes away from the plot. everything is there, if I’m making any sense at all. i’ll stop rambling now 

“Don’t think I can play the piano just because I know Moonlight Sonata.” A smile danced across Lin’s face as his hands glided over the piano keys, the world fading out into a still around the two of you.

“It is pretty impressive,” you countered, allowing yourself to return the smile to your boyfriend of three months. You’d been to his house countless times, even sat in this very living room, but up until now, Lin had always refused to play the piano for you.

Lin chuckled, but otherwise paid no attention to your remark, remaining focused solely on the music. The notes flowed together, the fluidity and rapidity painting a picture in your mind, one full of bright colors and swirling patterns drawn together into one impacting combination as Lin poured his soul forth into the music.

You looked on in awe, at both his talent and how the sound of the piano could range from powerful and bold to the sweet twinkling of the stars. It ebbed and flowed into overwhelmingly beautiful waves of sound.

“Where’d you learn to play this?” You asked, reclining against the arm of the couch. In the dim lighting, you could only just make out Lin’s figure on the other side of the room where he sat, bent over the piano, sending the notes to life with his fingers.

He lifted his head and smiled in your direction, his eyes gleaming brightly. “My parents made me take piano lessons when I was in middle school,” he explained. Even as he spoke, he didn’t falter in his music. “I hated it at the time, but I suppose it’s nice to be able to play like this now.”

You nodded as if you understood, despite the fact that you’d never taken a music lesson in your life. You’d watched your friends in school complain about having to practice all day, and back then you’d been grateful that you weren’t put through the torture of being forced to learn an instrument against your will, but now, seeing the happiness etched on Lin’s face as he filled the room with the beautiful sounds of the piano, you saw a certain appeal in knowing how to play. You even found yourself feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy at having missed out on the chance to learn something like this.

“I love music…” Lin trailed off, the pace of the melody growing slower. “It’s so… it’s nice. The music, it’s like…” You listened to the way he paused to continue playing, how his voice grew softer. “It’s like talking, but the things you can’t say. The music, it’s the words that I’ll never have the courage to speak.”

You gave way to a weak smile, allowing yourself to meet his eyes for a few fleeting moments before tearing your gaze down to your lap. You’d lost focus on the music, remaining trapped in your thoughts.

If only you’d taken piano lessons when you were a child.

If only you had some sort of talent that could match up to Lin’s.

If only you were so in touch with yourself, so confident in your craft, that you could perform it so effortlessly.

“What’s wrong?”

Having been so lost in your own mind, you hadn’t noticed that the music had stopped and Lin had turned his attention back to you.

As if as some sort of a response, you gave way to a heavy sigh. Lin hurried to your side, enveloping you in a tight embrace. “What’s the matter, Y/N?” he asked, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m alright.” You mustered up a smile to show him that you were fine. “I was just listening to you play.”

Lin shot a glance over to the abandoned piano. “Sorry if I broke your ears,” he apologized. “I really need to tune that piano.”

“No, no, it was beautiful,” you assured him.

“Then what’s the matter?” Lin continued to insist. “Come on, Y/N. I can see something’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing.” You bit your lip, dragging your gaze off to the other side of Lin’s living room. “I was just wondering…” You trailed off, cheeks burning red. “Could you teach me how to play?”

Lin stared at you for a few moments. “Of course.” He folded his lips into a smile and fumbled for your hand in the dark. “Is that all that was bothering you?”

You nodded, smiling to yourself.

You let Lin lead you to the piano and sit you down on the stool. “This, here-” He guided your hands to the correct keys. “This is a G chord. Try it.”

Tentatively, you pressed down on the keys, sending a soft note to echo throughout the room.

“Good, now move your thumb and index finger to the left- yes, that’s an A.”

One by one, Lin guided you through a series of chords. “Good, you’re doing good,” he encouraged. “Now try putting them together. First the G…”

Hands on top of yours, he moved your fingers over the keys. It didn’t feel like instruction, rather as though your hands were moving of their own accord. You resisted the urge to smile up at him.

“The A… now the G again…” He murmured the directions softly under his breath, almost inaudible. “The C… good, now the B…”

“I think I’ve got this,” you told him, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. “This isn’t really that hard.”

“Try it on your own.” Lin took a step back, watching you through wide and ever seeing eyes.

Slowly but surely, you allowed your fingers to dance over the keys just as Lin’s had. You stifled a smirk as you recognized the melody, the same tune that you’d heard far too many times.

“That was great!” Lin enthused when you finished, his grin falling short as you shot him a playful glare, shoving him gently.

“You taught me the fucking birthday song.” You laughed; what had you expected? To master Moonlight Sonata in all of an hour?

Lin gave way to a smile, shoving you back. “And you did amazingly, if I do say so myself. And as the one person in this room with a history of piano lessons, I believe my opinion counts for something.”

“Your opinion always counts.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “Thank you,” you whispered, in all sincerity.

The world fell silent as you stood on your toes and pressed your lips gently against his. It was unearthly, a rippleless lake, a silent forest, a still and gentle tundra of color that stretched out for miles and miles.

His lips were soft against yours. You could feel him smiling, and you did your best to bite back a grin of your own.

The two of you fell back against the couch, with your arms still around his body. “Are you tired?” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek.

“No.” You rested your head on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart. “Don’t go to sleep. I’d miss you too much.”

Lin gave way to a chuckle. “Do you want to do something?”

“No.” You smiled to yourself, burying your face in the soft fabric of his shirt.

The two of you remained like that, lying on the couch for a few moments.

“Hey,” you murmured, your lips turned upwards at the edges. “I love you.” Your words were spoken like a soft and gentle promise against his chest.

“Love you too.” Lin sighed contentedly, squeezing your hand tightly.

You adjusted your body so you could be more comfortable. “Thank you,” you told him again, knowing you’d already thanked him, but you wanted to make sure he knew how much that short little piano lesson had meant to you. “I’ve never really been good at anything, not that I’m good at playing piano, but-”

“Shhh, Y/N,” Lin told you, giving a slight eye roll. “Get some sleep.”

You frowned. “What did I say about going to sleep?”

“Some soppy bullshit to make you sound like you’re in love, wasn’t it?” Lin laughed, eyes full of content.

“Yeah.” You grinned up into the darkness, into the living room that had begun to feel like your own, into the world that you and Lin had created. “Something like that.”

Again & Again

Episode 12x6 in the eyes of the reader.

A/N: This season continuously hits me with MOM feels over and over again, and as soon as the episode was over, I had to write about it. I just want to hug Dean and Sam and tell them everything will be okay. I do not hate Mary and I do understand her position, so please do not take this as me disliking her. There are spoilers of 12x06 in this, so please don’t read any further if you don’t want it to be spoiled. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 1,745

*This is for @kittenofdoomage Classic Movie Quote Challenge, and my quote was ‘Why so serious?’ from The Dark Knight.

- angst.
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gifs are not mine.

She’d shown up again, their mother. Or at least, the ghost of what she once was. When she was around Sam and Dean were both more flighty, harder to read than normal. It was maddening. She was everything to them, and a complete stranger to you.

When she first left, you hated her; her leaving throwing Dean down a spiraling path he hadn’t traveled in a long time. Sam, he understood. He tried to explain to you in the best ways he could that she needed space. But Dean struggled, and it damn near broke your heart. How could you try to love and understand someone who wanted nothing to do with the man you loved? Her son.

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I Hate You Part 2

Originally posted by krismehard

Request: Hello It’s me the one who requested the I hate you scenario :) I just wanna say that I LOVE THAT! (I love angst oh god) and I see that you want to do a part 2 can I ask for a happy ending?! Alaksjshd (I myself don’t have plans to have kids and I really want a happy end for me kkkkkk

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2945

Part 1

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Carry On Countdown day 2: Fifth Year

I hate him.

I hate him with a passion that runs through my veins as quick as silver and as thick as blood with as much bitterness as a biting January wind.

His mouth, his pretty, pink mouth, spews out venomous insults that I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try. He smiles at me, with his blinding white teeth and his lovely freckled cheeks and the dimple in the left side of his face that just screams ‘hero’.

Everything about him, from his shiny, coiled curls to his ragged fingernails, dirty and bitten and bloody, to his wrinkled trousers, to his neck and his torturous fucking Adam’s apple that bobs up and down when he swallows like it’s taunting me. I hate it all.

It just reminds me of how different we are. How he is everything I’ll never be. Everything I’ll never have.

Last night I dreamt of us together, intertwined and inseparable, rolling around in sheets that felt like they were made of downy feathers and clouds. My name on his lips was a symphony. He laid before me, still and breathy, no fight left in him. Magnificently undone.

When I woke up he was sitting up in his bed with his head between his knees and moonlight in his hair and it was freezing, fucking freezing because he never shuts the goddamn window.

He was sobbing.

With his shirt off I could count every rib all down his back, just a reminder of how undernourished and alone he is during the summers. Just another slap in the face to me- Basil, you have everything you could ever want in life and he has nothing. Would it kill you to treat him better?

Except I don’t have it all. He’s what I want (he’s what I despise). He’s everything I need (he’s everything I stand against). He’s sitting on his bed and he’s crying and he’s practically a child.

I could lord it over him with no mercy. I could stand on my bed and wave my wand and cry, “Does ickle little baby Snow need his mommy?”

Or I could-


Or I could-

Last night I walked across the cold, wooden floor in my stocking feet to Simon Snow’s bed and I curled myself around him while he cried. I whispered my sweet nothings into his hair, which smelled of sweat and smoke.

Last night I rocked the chosen one like a baby in my arms and he surrendered in defeat and all I could think about was how nasty the taste of winning was in my mouth.

This morning I slipped out of bed before the sun came up and his fingers dragged across my chest but he didn’t wake up.

This morning an unbidden thought crept its way into my head. I’m in love with Simon Snow.

Dark/Non-Con Rec List

I happen to be a fan of Non-Con and Dark fics, so I thought I’d rec some of my favorites.  Hope ya’ll enjoy these as much as I have.


Raise Me To Your Lips

He can fuck you good, but I can fuck you better.

Summary: Smut, just smut between Keith and Shiro’s dark side.  Dubious consent at the start, but fully consensual by the end.

Hubris (Ate)

Keith sometimes wonders if it makes him a bad person. Shiro hates that part of himself, and yet Keith craves everything Shiro has to offer, even the dark and scary facets.

for that-darn-keyhole

Summary: Very, very, rough sex. Consensual throughout, but threatened rape.  Keith plays with fire in this one.

Bitter (Mind Control)

He leaned forward. There was a cruel twist to his mouth. “Hey, Keith,” he said, “did they get you ready for me?”

Summary: Straight up violent Non-Con, Shiro is under mind control throughout.

White, Black and Red

Shiro never escaped the Galra, never wanted to, never tried. When he’d lost his arm the druids had taken him, experimented on him, and realised how much potential he had. They’d brought him into their order, and he’d thrived.

Now he had his hands on their latest acquisition, the Red Paladin of Voltron.

Summary: No sex yet, broken Shiro helping break Keith.

Better Lovers

Helpless tears stung Keith’s eyes. Shiro, painfully observant, set the lube down and thumbed the tears away gently with a hand that Keith knew would only bring him pain. “Oh, Keith. I’ll make it feel good if you let me.”

Keith reached for the bitter, painful stone of betrayal that cut him from the inside.

“I’d rather die,” he whispered.


Spy AU, where Shiro is the mole and Keith is caught up in his lies.

Summary: Non-con to Dub-con Spy AU one shot.  Emotional torture.

Dark Love

Shiro loves Keith. Even Haggar’s magic can’t change that.

Summary: Self-rec, second fic contains drugged non-con.



The Galra ship smelled like fetid grass. That wasn’t the worst thing about it, but it was what Keith remembered best.

Summary: Non-violent non-con, Galra!Keith gives in to some instincts he didn’t know he had.

Stockholm Syndrome

Bastard prince-general!keith + prisoner Shiro + Keith kinda stockholm syndroming Shiro very carefully.

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.

Keith/Others & Shiro/Others

Fever Dreams

Lotor pauses in his examination and looks up at Shiro, head tilted. Thoughtful.

“Is it worse watching him hating it?” Lotor say slowly. Pauses; smirks, “Or loving it?”

Summary: Keith/Lotor violent non-con from Shiro’s perspective.

The Fall of the Castle

When Sendak takes the Castle from the Paladins, he ends up with two hostages. One is useful for nothing more than leverage; the unconscious blue paladin who likely won’t live much longer. But the other is the black paladin, Zarkon’s escaped Champion, and their fight has given Sendak quite an interest in him.

Summary: Very well written Sendak/Shiro non-con.

First Contact

There is absolutely no excuse for this, so have some extremely filthy Shiro/Keith tentacle sex.

Summary: Tentacle non-con.


Because I am an emotional mess™ with everything that’s going on right now in my life, I’m going to write it out. That seems to be the only healthy way at the moment because I absolutely hate crying when it comes to serious things and I hate talking about my feelings, so this is a win for me and hopefully a win for you as well. Anyway, rant over.

Word count: 508
Warnings: Death, Sadness, Angst
Pairings: Bucky x Reader 
Summary: Things suck. Life sucks. People are dying. But Bucky’s there to help you through it all. 

Originally posted by loveviral

Your phone is always ringing, and it’s usually family or old friends on the other line. All of them call to ask you how you’ve been? How’s work? What’s happening in your life right now? How’s Bucky? 

You look forward to your grandmother’s calls in particular; they come every Wednesday. She always has the best things to tell you about her recent trip to some far away country you wish to see. Her latest trip was to Rome to see the Vatican. She must have sent you hundreds of pictures that she took with the iPhone you got her for her 82nd birthday.

You pick your phone up for the third time, eyebrows bunched together in confusion, “Hm.”

Bucky lowers his book an inch, eyes peeking out over the pages, “What’s the matter?”

“She hasn’t called.” You simply say, turning to rest your head against his bent knee.

His hand comes down to tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently, “Nana?”

“Yeah, she usually calls by now.” You sigh, not quite worried, but curious to know where she’d run off to this week.

“She’s probably on a flight to, like, Scandinavia, or something…” He murmurs, brushing hair away from your face.

You laugh through your nose at Bucky’s joke, fingers tracing patterns over his jean clad knee, “Yeah, she’s probably just eating lunch with the Pope.”

“Or swimming with the president.”

“Having tea with the queen.” A loud laugh breaks from your mouth, “Or getting a facial with Oprah Winfrey.”

The laughter between the two of you is interrupted by your ringtone.

“There she is!” Bucky exclaims, swatting your rear as you run for your phone, but when you flip it over, it’s your aunt.

Again, your eyebrows furrow, but you answer the call, “Hi, Aunt Donna, how are you?”

“Baby Doll, it’s Nana,” She sniffles and your smile immediately falls.

“What happened?” You wheeze out, as if you had been punched in the gut.

Her next words sound muffled, and your entire world feels like it was suddenly turned upside down. The tears are immediate and violent. Your entire body trembles with sadness and you hear your aunt apologizing, telling you that the family will meet tomorrow at your Nana’s favorite restaurant.

“O-okay, I’m sorry.” You whisper shakily, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow; I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up, turning on your heel to go to Bucky, but he’s already standing behind you, pulling you into his chest.

“Oh, god, Bucky, she’s dead. Oh my god-d.” You sob, clutching his shirt in your hands tightly.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, pressing you closer to his body when he feels your knees give out from beneath you. He sinks to the ground slowly with you on his lap. “I’m sorry, baby, so so sorry. You’re alright; it’s gonna be alright.”

Your tears didn’t stop until you had fallen asleep, face kept hidden in the crook of Bucky’s neck.

you are the sea, upon which i float (cs one-shot)

summary: emma passes by killian every morning on her daily run. she’s never spoken to him all that much, but of course she goofs up and accidentally runs into him. literally.

wc: 2.2k or so.

a/n: yeah no i haven’t written in forever, forgive me as i need to get back into the groove of things. (also on ao3)

Her mornings are the same rinse and repeat process. While she dreads getting up early, she does it anyway, and if anything, it’s merely to fit in the morning run she takes across the beach and to the docks before taking a turn home to shower and get ready for the rest of her day as Sheriff of Storybrooke.

But to be honest, there’s nothing ever to really be worried about in this small town.

And no, she totally doesn’t sacrifice sleeping in for the hot guy — Killian Jones — she passes every time during her hot run. No, she doesn’t notice the way his short sleeve shirt clings to his skin or the way sweat droplets roll down his skin. Emma doesn’t care about the way his hair is plastered to his forehead slightly and the way his lips are just parted as he exhales.

(Perhaps she’s a tad insane.)

It’s not like she talks to him, though. They nod and smile at each other, perhaps change a silent hello as they both have motivational music blasting into their ears, but never once have they really spoken. And yet, it feels like she knows him plenty already just from observing him. Not just while he runs, but the occasional times of noticing him at work on his ship or seeing him at Granny’s. Sometimes she might just be eyeing him from afar, taking notice of the stubble that runs along his jaw, accentuating the sharpness.

And god forbid her from speaking about his voice. Gentle and smooth.

(She’s in over her head, for Christ’s sake.)

Keep reading

A note, sadly.

I’ve been mulling this over for a while and though I hate to do it, I have to.

I’m taking a break from writing.

My life has changed drastically since my break-up (for the better, so no worries!), but I find that I, as a person, have of course changed, too. I’m focusing on different things, my time is taken up in other ways. I’ve lost a bit of the motivation to write, and hate that I don’t update enough in that way for you guys. So, I’m stepping back for an undetermined amount of time.


I will still be here blogging during shows. I still want your asks proclaiming love for our superstars, telling me about your crazy dreams, your random observations, seeking advice. I’m still so down to look at fics and do some editing if you need. I’m always here to talk about any and everything. I’ve made so many incredible friends on Tumblr, and I can’t thank you all enough for being here for me when I needed it, and just being generally awesome.

In essence, I’m still here - my pen is just stopping for a while. 

Which sucks because there are a LOT of requests left. Which is leading me to ask - WWE writers, if I told you to take a look at my request list and pick a couple, would you want to take them off my hands and fulfill them? Requesters, are you ok with this? I’d be happy to do that and mark up the Masterlist of what goes to who, first come first serve, but want to know if there’s interest in that first.

Thanks to you all for your understanding in my having to do this. My life took a crazy turn at the end of this year. It was a FANTASTIC one, but it leaves me pivoting in different directions, one of which means I have to drop the smut for a bit. 

There are a bajillion talented writers on here, and I look forward to reading all of your works. 


Let’s Not Fall in Love | 1

pairing: jikook (side ships yoonseok & namjin + platonic!sunshine line)
length: chaptered, ongoing
genre: school au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, badboy!jungkook x shyboy!jimin
rating: 16+

summary: jeon jungkook is everything jimin hates in the world: rude, manipulative, possessive, cruel - and, overall, a complete bad boy. after an awkward session of spin the bottle at a party jimin never wanted to go, the two become far too involved in each other’s lives, and jimin realises that he can use this to his advantage - maybe, he can finally get jungkook back for all the pain he’s caused. maybe, he can finally get revenge… 

but, then again, jimin never expected to fall in love along the way. 

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