i just wanted to remind you guys that i love you

kellymarietran: Guys, can I tell you a secret? I avoided public social media for a long time purely because I was afraid. I was terrified of being picked apart, of being scrutinized, of being seen. It took me a year of self-work — and some really amazing, supportive friends — to make me realize that it’s none of my business if people like me or not. It doesn’t change my goals, my dreams, what I want to do with the opportunities I’ve been given. We live in a world that profits off our insecurities. We need the most expensive makeup to be beautiful, the newest clothes to be desired, the most likes on social media to be validated … the list goes on and on. Well, here’s a photo of me — hair up, no makeup, no filter. I’m an incomplete, imperfect, broken mess and I’m here to say that IT’S OKAY to be imperfect. Actually, our imperfections are what make us special, as cliché as that sounds. Don’t let the masses make you believe that you’re not enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. Love yourself, and embrace your messiness. That’s where your power lies! (I honestly just wrote this in my journal as a reminder to myself, because hey, I’m mostly a strong person, but life happens, and I’m still figuring it out as I go. 💁🏻)

I asked my mom to name each voltron character and their personality

Lance:

Me: “What’s his name?”

Mom: “I’m trying to think of something sly like, Leo.”

*snorts*

“He’s a player. A big flirt. Like he thinks he’s better than everybody but he’s really not.”

“Anything else?”

“No that’s it.”

“Wow.”

Keith:

Mom: “James”

Me: “JAMES?”

“And ack he’s sad god love him. He may be a bit disgruntled but he looks very sad. I think he seems like a nice guy, you know?”

“Yeah”

“He’s very closed off too. Cause he has his arms crossed. That means you’re closed off.”

Hunk:

Mom: “His name is…….. Patrick.”

Me: *laughing my ass off* “You’re giving them such generic names!”

“So? I like em names.”

*my brother from a distance* “PATRICK LMAO”

“And he looks a wee bit dozy.”

“Dozy?”

“Yeah he doesn’t know what he’s up to. He thinks he knows what he’s doing but he has no clue. He’s a big lug.”

*after being told his name is Hunk* “I like Patrick better.”

Pidge:

Mom: “I’m just gonna give her a name. Jenny.”

Me: “Jen- okay”

“And she looks like she’s a curious wee book worm girl. She’s probably really smart and slightly misunderstood maybe?”

“Is that it?”

“Ay”

Shiro:

Mom: “I’m trying to think of a name for him……….. Ian.”

Me: *trying to hold back laughter*

“Ian and he’s a wee bit scary. He’s like the leader. He’s the one in control of everything, you know? And he seems very… very distant but he wants to be closer maybe? Like he wants to be friendly but he’s gotta play the tough guy.”

Allura:

Mom: “……….Quintara.”

Me: “QUINTARA- at least it’s not something generic.”

“She looks like a princess. She looks… friendly? But a little bit sad or something? Worried maybe. But determined. She’d kill a bitch.”

*laughing our asses off cause FACTS*

Coran:

Mom: “His name is…………………………………….*long pause*…………………………….. Red.”

Me: “Red??”

“Yeah cause his hair. You know? He’s a red head.”

“Why would his name be red because of his hair color?”

“Because that’s the nickname. He’s very stuck up. Very snotty. ‘Mr. know it all.’”

“I can’t.”

“He may even speak with an English accent.”

*pissing myself at this point*

Lotor:

Mom: “….*long pause again*………. Like, fricken Zaltor?”

Me: *choking* “You’re close?”

“He’s a powerful enemy out to kill everybody. He has a dark side but he might have a light side too. He seems a wee bit soft hearted maybe? You know what, he reminded me of the princess. Allura? Yeah he reminded me of her. That, ‘I’m gonna kill. I’m soft hearted but I can kill you.’ and maybe that royalty stance gives off that impression.”

Zarkon:

Mom: *scared look* “Oh jesus……… King Buggaboo.”

Me: “wHAT??”

“I don’t know he looks like a bug! King Buggaboo!”

“THESE ARE THE VILLAINS, WHY WOULD A VILLAINS NAME BE ‘BUGGABOO?’ THAT’S NOT INTIMIDATING AT ALL.”

“True.”

“Try giving him a more intimidating name.”

“Mac.”

*w h e e z i n g*

“He’s like a big Mac Truck.”

“THAT’S NOT BETTER BUT OKAY.”

“He looks like he has a big raspy voice and he’s scary. He’s kinda like Megabyte, you know?” *she’s talking about Megabyte from reboot lmao* “He’s a trickster.”

*after explaining that he’s Lotors dad*

“Oooh…. this- this one, him? THAT’S HIS DAD?? WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO HIM???”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

Haggar:

Mom: “Ooo she looks like a witch doctor. She’s pretty dark. ‘Evil one.’ Her name’s Voltra.”

Me: “Yeah, VOLTRONS enemys name is VOLTRA.”

“Oh right it’s Voltron. I forgot the name. But she’s a nasty piece of work. There’s no soul in her.”

*me and my brother share a ‘If only she knew’ look*

*after explaining she’s Lotors mom.*

“So Zarkon is her husband.”

“Oh shit. Them two a couple? Fuck.”

someone: do you still ship klance?

me, internally: I love the dynamic of Klance and I love writing the ship. It was my first ship in the Voltron fandom and my first Voltron Klance fic Bonding Time is still my most popular. But it’s a constant frustration, because the more Klance content I reblog, the more anti blogs and art and posts are recommended to me. Because so many Klance fans are antis, and so Klance is associated with antis, which is so sad because I don’t want to be associated with such a toxic side of a fandom and I know many other Klance shippers don’t either, or don’t see the harm in anti arguments because they support Klance, and they’re defending Klance, so it must be okay, right? I hate that so many antis who ship Klance are also Lance stans, because I love Lance but I do not appreciate the iterations of Klance which make Keith out to be little more than a prop to support and lavish love upon Lance when he needs it - forget Keith’s feelings and character development, he’s from Texas and loves knives and making terrible decisions LOL. I hate the “there can only be one” mentality among so many Klance fans, who will go out of their way to bash other ships in order to make Klance the only “safe” and “non-problematic” one. I hate that the argument “because it’s not Klance” has literally been used when one shipper was asked why she didn’t ship or like Hance, I hate that people label Pidge/Lance as problematic even though Pidge and Lance have great potential as a couple and their age difference is the same as Keith and Lance’s, and most of all I hate that antis who ship Klance (…which is most if not all of them) claim other ships that “interfere” with Klance like Sheith or Shance or Shklance are pedophilia and unhealthy, when they are neither. I hate that antis who ship Klance will go so far as to attack other shippers with slews of hate, death threats, give them labels using words they do not even understand, and worst of all invalidate the experiences and trauma of actual CSA victims in their quest to make Klance the one true pairing. I hate that Klance fans have attacked the creators and voice actors of the show in the same way, I hate that @bext-k has been treated so horribly here on tumblr and then been told she couldn’t defend herself because her bully was a minor (a minor, but not a toddler, someone who is perfectly capable of not being an asshole and whose age does not make it okay for them to say the things they said). I cannot stand the Klance meta posts that analyze the heck out of every interaction between the two of them, and at the same time ignore much more meaningful interactions between characters like Shiro and Keith and deny that there could be anything more than friendship between them. It isn’t that deep, I’m sorry, it just isn’t, and it’s embarrassing to see how far of a reach Klance fans make sometimes in order to make their ship as canon as possible. And look, to a degree, I get it. I love Klance. But I do not love the way so many Klance shippers have broken apart this fandom and created spaces so toxic that CSA victims’ voices cannot even be heard without being shut down, mocked, and insulted. I do not love the way I now I have to check every unknown blog’s description before reblogging a post from them to make sure they don’t say “shaladins get out” or “stinky anti” there. I do not love the way that adult antis claim they are protecting minors and then turn around and reblog nsfw fanart of Keith and Lance, two characters who they apparently see as minors, even going so far as to tag it with things like “yaoi” or “this is so sinful” or something equally insulting. I do not love the way antis gaslight and guilt-trip, I do not love the insidious mob mentality that leads to people feeling afraid of not thinking the way other antis do. I do not love the all too prevalent fujoshi culture found among Klance shippers - have you ever noticed that the overwhelming majority of Klance shippers are teenage to twenty-something girls? Whereas all of the queer guys I know of in this fandom are multishippers and/or ship Sheith or Shance. Why don’t we acknowledge that? Why don’t we acknowledge that queer guys, whose relationships we are writing/drawing/analyzing and fangirling about, have an opinion here, and that their opinion maybe, just MAYBE, matters more than ours? In Hypable’s Battleships poll, this was literally proven - way more guys voted for Sheith than voted for Klance. But Sheith is the toxic relationship. Uh-huh. Right. Okay. Even though they’re both adults and have shown each other nothing but love, trust, and respect. This is what infuriates me about so many Klance shippers. The willful blindness to even acknowledge that other sides, other ships, may have merit. And of course this isn’t all of them, I ship Klance and I know many others who do and who don’t share this mentality that makes me so sad and upset. But there are a significant amount of Klance shippers who do. Why can’t there just be a dialogue? Why can’t antis be people who may not like Shaladin ships but understand that this is a fictional show, people are entitled to their opinions, blacklisting tags/blocking users/not looking at content you don’t like is a valid option, and words like pedophilia and “go kill yourself” should not be thrown around as lightly and frequently as they are? I wish we could. I really wish we could. And I also wish I could ship Klance as much as I want to without constantly being reminded of all the hate spread by people who call it their OTP.

me: yep haha ofc klance will always be close to my heart!

I know many of you may be upset about not getting invited to a SS, especially if you live around the area Taylor is doing it at. I genuinely feel your pain because I’ve been there too! I’ve watched my friends meet Taylor countless amounts of times and as much as I wanted to be happy for them I was still jealous obviously (just never turned my jealousy into hatred) but…. I waited my turn. I was patient and I told myself that my time will come and if I spread happiness and kindness in the world it will come back to me. And guess what? I got a message from Taylor Nation during Taylor’s 1989 tour asking if I wanted to meet Taylor! 

So a reminder that it is okay to be upset, I totally understand. But Taylor is doing the best she can to meet you. And if I dare read one of your posts saying “Taylor doesn’t want to meet me” OF COURSE SHE DOES! You’re a fan of hers and she appreciates you so much. She even told me when she met me she tries her hardest to find everyone, despite how busy she is. (come on she watches our livestreams when she’s in meetings!!!!) 

Please don’t give up hope, this post was made to remind you to be patient and keep up your hope because Taylor will meet you one day and she’ll tell you how much she loves you and how much you love her, and good things come to those who wait. 

I don’t remember September 11, 2001

It was my sixth day of First Grade at Beaumont Elementary in Devon, Pennsylvania 
I was a 5-year-old new kid 
Mrs. Kowalski was still learning our names 
The School Board decided not to tell the students what happened
Didn’t want 7000 children in a panic
Thought we were safer in school
Than with distraught and distracted parents on highways
It was just another Tuesday

I don’t remember 9/11
I remember the weeks that followed 
The red eyes of adults around me 
The fantastical and horrific stories
The tears and denial of friends who lost loved ones
All burned into my psyche

I don’t remember 9/11
I remember my parents going to New York a month after the attacks for their anniversary 
They brought back gifts from the Toys R Us in Times Square 
And stories of dust covered cars that would never be reclaimed

I don’t remember 9/11
I remember hearing that we were going to war 
I remember my fear for children like me who would get hurt
I remember resigned acceptance 
“We’re just getting the bad guys,” people said 
“You’re too young to understand”

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember my confusion when my father couldn’t walk my mother and I to the gate at Philadelphia International 
“But the last time we visited Aunt Theresa you waved goodbye” 
What I would’ve given to go back to 1999

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember the dead 
Young Americans fighting out of grief and misguided patriotism
Iraqis and Afghans and Pakistanis slaughtered out of revenge 
I remember pushing a bully down a slide on a playground when he asked my friend if her parents bombed buildings
A week later he tripped me going down the stairs, spraining my ankle 
“Al Qaeda supporter,” he whispered

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember a war 
I remember being desensitized to images of gore and destruction 
I remember a norm of hatred and aggression in the name of patriotism and security
I remember learning of the ever-mounting debt being saddled on my generation 
Debts that my grandchildren will still be paying off
Debts of money and of blood

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember traveling to other countries 
Being reminded to exercise caution when telling people we’re Americans 
I remember the surprise on their faces 
“But you’re so nice” 
“You don’t look like war-mongers”

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember the nausea I felt when we learned in school that we armed and trained Al Qaeda and the Taliban
That we caused the Iranian Revolution 
That we fund corruption and war when it fits our needs 
That we’ve murdered millions in the name of freedom
That we are a nation of terrorists ourselves

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember years of teachers glossing over the early 2000s
“You know this already” 
I remember finally speaking up
Asking Mr. Palmatier to go over the events of that infamous day
I remember his stunned silence as he looked at his 2nd period AP US History class
“Sir…we were 6…we don’t remember”

I don’t remember 9/11
I remember the fear I feel every time I fly 
Every time I ride public transport
Every time I’m in a crowded area 
Every time I’m at a national site

I don’t remember 9/11 
I remember visiting memorials on a frigid day in December 
Sleet masked the tears on my face 
So much death and destruction
An endless war 
A generation that grew up on fear
A generation that could learn
Learn to empathize
Learn to love
Learn from the mistakes of those who came before us

I don’t remember 9/11
But I can’t forget everything since
I won’t forget

- Shadowed Memories [9.11.2017]

anonymous asked:

Okay but just think of the dozens of Sterek fics that will come from that small scene of Stiles saying blindness is his biggest fear and Derek questioning him. I can just imagine one with Derek hearing Stiles heartbeat stutter and later confronting him about it and Stiles being all like 'of course it's not my biggest fear, don't you know me at all? My biggest fear is losing you again, watching you bleed out and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to save you.'

Derek’s eyes linger after Stiles looks away, his body shifting restless, fingers clenching and loosing in a twitch across the exam table. The lie hangs bright and obvious in the air –– less in the absent hitch of heartbeat or the burn of nerves that don’t taste quite like embarrassment or like fear. Derek could explain those things away in context if he tried, but he can’t explain the way the words fail to line up with everything he knows he knows about Stiles.

“Becoming blind?”

“Yeah… terrified of it. Always have been.

He wonders if it’s as obvious to Scott as it is to him, but the rest of the group’s already moved on, not missing a beat, focus shifted back to the problem at hand while Stiles re-centers. His pulse sharpens again and his eyes lift back to Derek, flicking up and away before moving back to Scott again, sliding seamless back into the conversation.

Derek shakes off the strangeness, and follows him.

.-

“Why did you lie in there?”

Stiles’ step falters on the question, and the resigned set of his shoulders tell Derek he’d been expecting this and hoping every bit as much to avoid it. Derek almost wants to take it back, tell Stiles is doesn’t matter, let whatever horror lives in the darkest place of Stiles’ heart lie there undisturbed… but this is too important.

He crosses his arms, keeping his tone and stance indifferent like that might make this conversation any easier.

“We need to know what’s coming, Stiles. When these things manifest, it’s not just going to be your fear anymore. It could threaten everyone.”

He’s not expecting the laugh that punches out of Stiles, harsh and thin and edged bitter enough to make Derek’s unaffected stance falter.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

Dark masks and fireflies float through Derek’s mind. A too-pale stranger with Stiles’ face and cold, ancient eyes. A huge lizard with paralyzing claws, and too-wet breaths as water threatened to pull them downward. A misshapen wolf with crimson eyes and spittle-laced breath, and an image of ghostly horsemen Derek had never seen, only heard of in Peter’s stories.

Derek could stab guesses at Stiles’ worst fears, could conjure up possibilities in Stiles’ quaking hands and nervous eyes as they darted out to the empty parking lot, looking for an escape before moving reluctant back to Derek. But he couldn’t know, and he needed to know, especially if it was something that could hurt the group.

…Especially if there was a way he could help Stiles prepare for it.

When it comes, he’s the one who’s unprepared.

“I can’t lose you again,” punches out rough and shaken, stunning Derek into stillness. Salt stings the air as tears well, and Stiles looks away on a wet breath, hand raking into his hair and tugging. “You were… dying and I walked away. I had to, there was nothing I could–– And then you were just gone afterward and I knew you were fine, I knew it was better that way but… fuck, Derek. It felt like you’d died some days.”

The tear tracks down and Derek feels his head shaking, arms falling from their faux-casual cross. The words are ringing through his mind, rattling around in a way that makes no sense and makes too much sense, echoes something too raw and honest inside him and he steps forward, “Stiles…” falling out soft, but Stiles is rocking a step back, shaking his head and swiping rough at the tear. Derek lets him retreat.

“My mom died in front of me.” This confession falls out soft, and Stiles’ shoulders shrink in against the sting of them. He looks small again, sixteen or years younger, and it takes an effort not to move in and shelter him from the sting of his own words. “And I just… I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t save her. Do you know how that––” He cuts off, because he knows Derek knows. Derek understands that feeling better than anyone. It’s a bond Derek’s always wished they didn’t share.

Stiles shakes his head, blinking quick.

“Fuck, I can’t go through that again, ok? If these things are bringing our worst fears to life then I’m better off away from it, for everyone’s sake. What if it kills you because of me, because–– I can’t watch someone else I love die.”

The words hang. Stiles has gone strangely still suddenly. In the clinic, some young pup sets up howling.

“…You love?” Because Stiles had been talking about his mother, but he’d also been talking about Derek. About losing loved ones, and that…

Stiles’ breath hisses out, body tensing up defensive and challenging. His hands ball up, shoulders setting broad again, and it feels like every argument they’ve ever had when Stiles meets his eyes, daring him to doubt the revelations he’d just laid out.

Derek had learned a long time ago not to doubt Stiles.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like it’s some undeniable fact that Stiles loves him, fears losing him, that in all the nightmares of Stiles’ life, losing Derek could rest in anywhere near the same category as possession or dementia, or his mother’s death. But Stiles has always been afraid of losing people he loved, of not being able to save them… and Derek is one of those people. 

Derek is the person Stiles couldn’t look at while thinking about loss.

He moves forward a step, and Stiles doesn’t retreat this time, amber eyes locked with an expression that’s caught somewhere between challenge and pleading.

It’s one of the most terrifying moments of Derek’s life as he lifts his hand to Stiles’ cheek, and the most natural thing in the world once it’s resting there.

“I’ve died before,” he reminds Stiles, softly. “That’s not about to beat me. I’ll always come back… for you.”

“For me?” Stiles sounds breathless, doubt and hope warring as Derek’s thumb brushes over his tear-streaked cheek.

Derek tilts his head, warmth touching his eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

When Stiles grins and presses their lips together, Derek forgets what it’s like to be afraid.

Bruise [ III ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 9.1k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Bruise Masterlist

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

The white cream swirled about in the dark coffee in front of you, your fingers clasped around the warm, pastel orange mug as the steam floated up in hazy waves. There were signs of life all around you, couples sharing intimate lunches and students laughing away their course work. The street outside the window in front of you was busy, bustling with people and lined with fall kissed trees, branches adorned in warm tones, rustling when a breeze blew. Despite the heat of life all around you, you felt cold, like your bones were made of ice, like your heart was encased in snow. The book across the table was pushed aside as Minseok sat back down, coffee in hand and round golden glasses perched on his nose as he exhaled heavily, ready to listen.

“Do you want to start or should I?”

Keep reading

dear tom holland fans,

i’ve heard that there’s been some (completely outrageous) negativity in this fandom especially directed at tom recently. some are about people getting mad that tom didn’t go to the china premiere of spider-man: homecoming when he was clearly sick and unwell. another thing i saw was that tom had apparently unfollowed all the instagrams of models that he was following because people got upset that he liked one photo of a model. i’m sure many of you follow guys or girls that you find attractive on instagram. and i’m sure there isn’t a group of people who are constantly breathing down your neck and making you feel bad for finding someone attractive. there’s plenty of other issues but these are the ones that i’ve seen most recently.

i would just like to point out and remind all fans in the tom holland fandom, whether or not you’ve been involved in this ignorance, that:

  1. Tom is HUMAN
  2. Tom has FEELINGS
  3. Tom has EMOTIONS
  4. Tom deserves PRIVACY
  5. Tom deserves to hang out with whoever he wants regardless of gender and not have people assume that he is in a relationship
  6. Tom doesn’t deserve the pressure some ‘fans’ put on him
  7. Tom doesn’t deserve the shit this fandom gives him
  8. Tom shouldn’t be sacrificing things for his ‘fans’
  9. and last but not least, Tom Holland is just like any one of us and i’m sure if you were in his position and being pressured by people that are supposed to be supporting him and loving him, you wouldn’t like it very much either

i want you all to understand that this is not an attack on the whole fandom. heck, i’m part of this hellhole of a fandom. but it’s to those particular few who seem to have the assumption that they can control tom and have a say in his life that i want to remind that there are boundaries to being somebody’s fan. you can love them, support them, laugh for them, cry for them, but you cannot control them. they are not yours to boss around. not now. not ever.

some pick-me-up prompts
  • “Hey, nerd! …go kick their butt.”
  • “You are loved.”
  • “Morning, lovely. I see you got out of bed… I’m proud of you.”
  • “You’re like fall… I love fall.”
  • “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”
  • “Picture yourself as a cat. Are you fluffy, hairless, big, small? What color are you? Well, no matter how you are, I got news buddy, all cats are cute. You’re cute. Your flaws are cute. Your personality is cute. Your mistakes? You guessed it, cute. Now, you wouldn’t treat a cat badly, right? You’d feed it, love it, support it, right? …‘cause if you wouldn’t then I’d whoop your ass, so you better love yourself no matter what, cutie.“ 
  • “Someone, someday, is going to write a sappy poem about you. And even though it’s super cliche, you will love it to pieces. You’re so adorable.”
  • “I hope you have a wonderful day.”
  • “You are your worst criticizer, seriously, all those things you’re worried about, they are absolutely fine.”
  • “Have you eaten in the last hours? Drank enough water? If not, do it now or I will… fight you… with my love…. yeah!”
  • “Keep going, love.”
  • “Look at you, god… you’re amazing.”
  • “It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry, just let it all out.”
  • “You’re strong and I care about you.”
  • “I love and support you.”
  • "You’re numb. You’re tired. You can’t seem to do anything. You want to give up. Well, I’m here to say, please. Just one more push, just one shower, one tiny task, one more day of looking after yourself. It’s hard, but I’ll be here on the other end, I’ll be there when you close your eyes tonight and you picture me, with the biggest smile on my face. One more, for me, for you.”

random klance stuff (consider it a sequel of this post):

  • they have a very long, intense conversation about what life was like at the garrison. they talk about the subjects they disliked, the one they liked etc. at some point the convo takes a sudden turn and keith gets more personal as it continues. “i was always on my own i never tried to open myself up and i’m genuinely sorry for it. who knows maybe..maybe we could have been friends back there, maybe…maybe something more.” cue lance smiling because this boy
  • when they come back to earth i imagine keith sort of awkwardly standing to the side while the other paladins all approach their families until lance comes up to him like “keith we’re your family never forget that. by the way…. my family would love if you….spent some time with us….ya know ahahaha….because we’re friends!!!” and keith accepts gladly ofc. *at lance’s house* “aw is this the guy you had a crush on??”
  • sometimes they’ll try to prank each other but it’s pretty tame compared to actual pranks. lance, holding the space phone in his hands recording keith while he’s eating some food go: hey keith
    keith: lance…what are you doing?
    lance: HA YOU’RE ON SPACE CANDID CAMERA! SMILE! btw you’ve got some food goo on your cheek
    keith: *giggles uncontrollably*
  • a moment when one tells the other “thank you for believing in me” followed by one of those kisses where one is surprised at first, but slowly mets into it
  • lance rants with red (bc they become buds along the way) about keith sometimes although the conversation always ends on the soft side. “keith is cool but don’t tell him i said that” “lance i’m literally behind you i can hear what you’re saying” lance: *jumps*
  • they’re on a mission and have to sleep very close to each other and lance notices that keith talks in his sleep and lance teases him the next day because he mumbled something along the lines of “today’s the day of me and lance’s wedding” cue keith blushing furiously (he doesn’t deny it though)
  • keith makes lance comb his hair in the morning because he finds it extremely relaxing, and while he’s at it, he often tells him about his day or things from his childhood and lance is very pleased to hear his stories
  • after they start dating, keith puts a little picture of him and lance in the black lion, right next to the screen so that he can be reminded of something that’s very important to him everytime they go on missions
  • “lance is irreplaceable, end of the story”
  • lance asks keith if he got to say goodbye to red bc he’s the only one who can understand what it’s like to leave the lion you were bonded to and keith says “no, but i know she’s in good hands. no one could do better than you” while smiling softly at him
  • they confess their feelings at the same time, but both are ready to admit that they should have said it sooner
  • sometimes they’ll team up to do something goofy, like that one time they involved hunk in making “good luck pidge” videos
  • keith finds something to give to lance as a gift and to lance it’s like the most precious thing in the world “i know it’s nothing specia–” “are you kidding me? i’m keeping this forever!”
  • lance: *wakes up keith in the middle of the night* do you think a transformer could beat voltron? keith: go back to sleep babe
  • an incovenience: *happens* keith: the guy i like wouldn’t treat me like this lance: well the guy I LIKE wouldn’t treat me like this either! (they’re talking about each other)
  • you know where keith says there’s no time for this? this time he says it because they have to go on a mission and they can’t cuddle
  • they gotta do the “looking at each other from a distance sadly” at least once where both are about to say something but get interrupted with the classic “am i interrupting something” followed by a “ok i’ll leave you two alone” l: “were you going to say something?” k: “uhm well i…hope you have fun”
  • when! are! we! gonna! see! keith! blush!
  • i lowkey want a “do you trust me?” scene with them
  • lance: keith don’t do it
    keith: ok
    lance: oh my go— wait…babe
  • after they start dating keith would often cheer on lance when he’s about to do some of his sharpshooting tricks
  • keith and lance met at the garrison with the classic “books that fell off trope” and y’all can fight me on this
  • keith: we had another bonding moment! you cradled me in your arms!!
    lance: nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen :/
  • a diplomatic party where keith gets extremely distracted by lance throughout the whole thing and he actually confronts him about it. “dude what the hell has gotten into you today???” “sorry i was… i was looking only at one guy in the room the whole time.”
  • *team plays would you rather* keith: would you rather me kiss lance or have lance kiss me
    “keith that’s not…how the game works”
  • *discussing something* “yeah sure and i’m not cute” “but you are” “exactly“ “ok you got me”
  • lance would be super in love with keith especially during the very first days of dating when he can see him in the morning, hair all messy, and he would still think he’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen
  • *keiths voice*: if you remember the bonding moment clap your hands
  • they have a discussion where they decide not to talk to each other and use their friends as a way to communicate. “hey shiro CAN YOU PLEASE TELL LANCE to stop looking at me? his eyes are pretty and it’s distracting”
    “hey hunk TELL KEITH that i ABSOLUTELY do NOT feel the same. like at all.”
    hunk and shiro: we get it you like each other
  • keith asking lance on a date for the first time but trying to be subtle (he fails at it though) “so… y’know….i like spending time with you…a lot...we’ve gotten pretty close and you’ve basically stuck with me and saw me at my best and at my worst…i wouldn’t mind if we…did it more often?” “oh? sure? we can do something all together! there’s this planet with a beach th–”
    “no,no…i meant…just the two of us this time?”
    lance: *blushes* oh—-OH
  • they’d sure as hell acknowledge that they’re a power couple and would be proud of it
  • “hey beautiful” “uh?”
    “i was..talking to red, actually. but you’re beautiful too”
  • keith: I DON’T LIKE LANCE OK
    shiro: no one said anyth—
    keith: WE HAD A BONDING MOMENT I’M FINE
  • keith: *is telling a plan*
    lance: where you lead, i will follow you anywhere
    keith: aw thanks lance that’s so swee–
    lance: THAT YOU TELL ME TO IF YOU NEED YOU NEED ME TO BE WITH YOU I WILL FOLL—
    keith: are you….are you seriously…..
    lance: yep;)
    keith: i love u with all my heart
Seven Things About Supernatural: 13x01 - “Lost And Found”

Oh hey.  The show’s back.  

Honestly.  This is mid-season or season-ender level crying happening.  And shit, I am so fucking here for it. 

  1. Jack is his father’s son.  Not Lucifer’s, despite his parentage, but Castiel’s.  He doesn’t understand, but he wants to.  He isn’t cruel, he isn’t violent.  He’s something that doesn’t fit.  Both of them want guidance from a missing father.  He even looks a bit like Cas, and the scenes in the police station – light bulbs exploding as he passes, being stabbed in the chest to no effect – are callbacks to Cas’ entrance in 4x01.   

    (He also takes after his uncle Gabriel, what with the Nougat thing.  And the t-shirt is kind of an awesome nod to what Dean “sees” in him – i.e. the son of Satan – via the horns.)

    But yeah.  He just wants his dad.  He was just looking for his dad.  I wonder who that sounds like…
  2. Miriam – aka drunk fries angel – was a highlight.  She’s merciless and damn good at her job, trailing the Winchesters to get intel while just sort of casually fucking with them.  She writes “BITCH” in the dust of Baby’s back window, and she’s brutal in her fight with Dean.  She knows how to make things hurt emotionally and physically, and makes decisions in the moment in ways that reminded me that I might have a very specific competence kink. 

    She reads Dean perfectly.  Anything?  Nope, Cas is dead.  You want your son safe?  Kill that guy and we’ll deal.  I’m gonna die?  Fine, but I’m taking a shot at the Nephil on the way out.

    She’s absolutely not a good person, but she’s a badass in ways that are satisfying as hell to watch.  Also, her actor – Carlena Britch – apparently did all of her own fight work.  (She also fractured her thumb filming with Jensen, so she’s a badass IRL.)
  3. She also conjures up the ghost of Becky Rosen.  Which…okay, I’m coming out of the text for a little bit on this one, because this was a thing that in the text is a little bit of a throwaway in the sense that we know how the angels feel about the Winchesters being a destabilizing, selfish force. 

    But the name Becky, that we’re supposed to hear.  And she uses it, over and over, so that if we miss it the first time, we’ll catch it.  And then she describes a really thoughtless, selfish person who breaks whatever she wants without concern for others in her own pursuit of satisfaction and amusement.

    Guys, I think Dabb might have called the disruptive, abusive edges of fandom out for their bullshit.  The ones who scream at the writers, the ones who kill the fun for other fans, the ones who are dicks at cons, etc.  And that’s…fascinating?  Because I know that Becky is a character a lot of folks have analyzed and tried to rehabilitate a little, even though she (and a lot of the fans portrayed in 5x09) are not a positive portrayal of fans in the same way some later portrayals are (e.g. 10x05).

    And if that’s what he’s doing, that only really exists inside that scene – because we probably aren’t supposed to self-identify this way via Dean after Miriam calls him a Becky – but…

    Anyway, it’s possible I’m projecting and seeing subtext where it’s not there, but I saw it the first time ‘round and in my morning rewatch and…yeah.  I can’t unsee it.   
  4. Dean’s prayer fucks me up something terrible.  

    “We’ve lost everything, and now you’re gonna bring him back.  Okay?  You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back mom.  You’re gonna bring ‘em all back.  All of ‘em.  Even Crowley.  ‘Cause after everything you’ve done, you owe us, you son of a bitch.  So you get your ass down here and you make this right, right here, right now.”

    This isn’t the first time he’s excused himself to the back of the building to try and contact an absent father, and gone unheard.  He knows how this goes.  You can see it in his face.  He tries to have faith.  He gets nothing.  

    Arguably, Dean’s quarrel with Chuck in 11x21 still stands.  Nothing has changed.  He’s still getting screwed over by a father’s willful absence.

    And then there’s this: 

    “We’ve lost everything, and now you’re gonna bring him back.  Okay?  You’re gonna bring back Cas…”

    He can’t even say that Cas is dead to Sam when they go looking for Jack, but he knows it.  He saw the wing prints.  Miriam taunted him with it.  He’s fucked-up about losing Mary yet again – evidenced by his nightmare after Jack knocks him out – but this is the loss hitting him the hardest.  It’s Cas’ body that’s his to prepare, his to burn.  

    You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back mom.  You’re gonna bring ‘em all back.  All of ‘em.  Even Crowley.

    (That’s not an echo of ”I love you.  I love all of you.”  Not at all.)

    “Well goodbye, Cas…”

  5. And hey, if Dean’s prayer didn’t fuck you up completely, Sam teaching Jack about funerals – Jack who is an orphan now, watching both of his parents burn – is there to cause the leak in your ceiling that will pour water on your face.  

    “You say thank you.  And you say you’re sorry.  You hope they’re somewhere without sadness, pain.  You hope they’re somewhere better.  You say goodbye.”

    Like, for all folks were complaining toward the end of Hellatus about who Sam is on the show of late – i.e. purely analytical, unfeeling – this ep was fantastic for centering him as this sort of mediating force who’s trying to work big picture despite the loss, trying to take all data into account.  

    And also trying not to die, because he was fucking terrified in that jail cell.

    Which hey, understandable.  And if we’re giving Miriam competence kink points for adusting on the fly, Sam earned his in bulk.  Plus, he totally headbutted an angel.  So hey.  Sam fucking Winchester.
  6. Actually, let’s just take a second to laugh about how scary Jack both is and isn’t.  Because he’s not doing most of the exotic, terrifying things on purpose.  He just does them when he’s scared.  And he knows almost nothing about his abilities, but he’s learning what he can as fast as he can after “growing up fast” as per his mother’s recommendation.  

    His sense of self seems kind of nebulous.  He “was” Kelly, though we don’t really know what he means by that exactly.  When he uses his powers he feels somehow disconnected from them.  

    And he gets hungry and the lights flicker we’re all like, “OH SHIT CLARK,” and then nope, he’s just magically stealing candy from the vendo.  And he feels really badly about frightening and hurting Clark and Sheriff Barker.

    He’s still figuring out shoes, y’all.  Shoes.
  7. So I can’t help but notice that Sam doesn’t share the Castiel-as-Jack’s-father bombshell with Dean.  Which, uh, I debated leaving as a bonus thing, or rolling into #5, but I think it’s significant enough to mention on its own, because this is a) kind of a big fucking deal with regard to understanding Jack, and b) kind of a serious fucking omission on Sam’s part. 

    Which…historically….well, Sam does that a lot.  And he usually has a reason, but it also usually has consequences, so batten down the hatches for that, I suppose.

Bonus Thing: Sheriff Barker is a gift.  I mean, she got the talk basically right out of the gate, and she advocates on behalf of people others call crazy or strange, and I kind of hope we see her again.  

Bonus Thing 2: Hey, are we still using Baby as a gauge for Dean’s wellbeing?  Because, uh…she needs some TLC.  

Bonus Thing 3: There is a moment during the Miriam v. Dean fight that is fucking amazing blink-and-you’ll-miss-it physical comedy.  He picks up a hat tree, she smashes the end off, then smashes it in half, and Dean does this cartoon panic and tosses the pieces up in the air.  

Like, seriously.  I need to learn to gif for moments like that. 

Bonus Thing 4: The universe screamed at Dagon’s death.  Presumably it did at Ramiel’s and Azazel’s, too?  Guess that’s how Asmodeus gets the memo…

Countdown

BACK WITH ANOTHER ONE-SHOT!!! I told you guys I’d have some canonverse klangst, so here it is! Longer than my usual one-shots, and while I don’t want to give a vague summary… there’s a bomb involved. So. Yeah, that’s a thing.

This one is actually inspired by this absolutely gorgeous, angsty art/mini-comic by @littlecofiegirl who is an amazing artist that you should definitely check out!!

I saw this comic on my dash and I loved it so much that I was immediately inclined to write for it? Anyway, here it is! I hope you enjoy!


The plan had been going flawlessly.

Key word being had.

Shiro and Lance were both searching opposite sides of the base for their captured teammate, and Pidge and Hunk were too occupied giving Shiro directions through the maze-like corridors that they neglected to warn Lance of the approaching Galra heat signature.

A cat blocked his path in the hall, staring at him with large, yellow eyes. It didn’t move to attack, but it also didn’t run away.

“Um… guys?” Lance tried over the coms, lowering his gun just a bit. He wasn’t about to shoot a cat, but he still wanted to be on guard.

He didn’t hear the Galra behind him until her hand was on his shoulder.

That was mistake number one.

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spellbound (m)

Pairing:  Jimin x Reader
Genre: witch!au (sort of based on the secret circle), smut, comedy, slight angst
Warnings: dom-ish!jimin, magical sex rituals (so slight blood play, breath play, temperature play), rough sex, cumplay
Word Count:  10k+
Summary:  The only reason you agreed to do this magical ritual with Park Jimin’s Circle was for the sake of your own Circle - to strengthen your individual magic. Yes, that means you’ll have to fuck him, but no, you weren’t happy about it because you hate Park Jimin. Once again, you were only doing this for your Circle. 

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for science

pairing: reader x jimin

rating: m

◦ word count: 7.7k

m a s t e r l i s t


Originally posted by parkjmzl

Absurd. Absolutely fucking absurd. It was 2am during finals week and the cafe was out of coffee? You had some colorful words for the person responsible. Dragging yourself up the stairs with sleep-ridden eyelids, you muttered curses under your quickened breath. You clenched and unclenched your fist. It was safe to say that your fifth espresso shot had officially just worn off. Despite the troubling rate of heartbeat and the fact that your hand was shaking all on its own, the subtle pounding of a migraine lingered between your temples in demand for something to keep it awake.

There was still a menacing stack of papers left to grade. If something could pull you away from it all, you would have been thankful. It was almost nauseating, actually, how much work you had yet to complete. Who the hell said grad school was a good idea? The urge to scream rippled in the back of your throat, tempting you to let everything out and just empty yourself into time and space.

It did you no better to return to the study room –the very cramped one that you had booked privately for the entire day– to find a regretfully familiar face emptying his bag across from your belongings. “What do you think you’re doing?” You felt lightweight as the angry jitters travelled through your body. The heavy door slammed shut behind you. It sent a deafening sound cracking through the library.

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splinter (m)

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: angst, non-explicit smut / college au

» word count: 6,518

» description: Perhaps in their last moments together, the pieces won’t seem so broken. That maybe even with their jaded hearts they can salvage some replica of what it all once was. 

» note: there are mentions of cheating in this story

People love to talk about the ‘what ifs.’

What if they had just kept going, what if they had chosen a different path, what if things had just gone the way they had so desperately wanted them to? Humans torture themselves with these thoughts, all while urgently grappling at the threads of their memories that led to the fork in the road where things went awry. They ponder them tirelessly, wondering if they could’ve done something different, only to realize in the end that it didn’t matter because what was done was done. It was that simple, yet again, people still loved to talk, ponder, and torture themselves with the possibility of what if — However, in your personal experience, there was something much worse.

There was a sub-group of sorts to the what-ifs, called the ‘almosts.’ Almosts are burning flames of misery because they tease you by getting so heartbreakingly close to what you wanted. They were in your reach, resting on the tip of your tongue, only to dissipate before you could swallow it down and make it yours.

So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the-almosts. But what you were even less keen on was being in the same room as your almost, the thread of memories making the air thick as it wrapped its way around your throat.

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13x01 - Episode Review Part 1

In which Dean just about held it together… and I did not. 

This review will be in several parts. I have separated it into several sections that I wish to talk about because hot damn. What an episode! This Part 1 focuses on Dean’s grief and Destiel and saying goodbye to Castiel. 

Firstly, an introduction

As I sit here, surrounded by three friends who I met on tumblr, BECAUSE of this show, I am amazed at how far I have come. I did not think that when I joined this fandom I would ever get to this moment, but my gosh what an amazing feeling this is. To all of you out there – reach out to people, you really won’t regret what you find. 

I adored this episode. I screamed, I even shed a single man tear whilst holding on to @amwritingmeta quite tightly… sorry Annelie if I hurt you at all. @tinkdw, @margarittet and @amwritingmeta you guys are wonderful and I am so glad that I have been able to flail and scream along to this awesome episode with you. Thank you for sharing this crazy obsession with me.

Part 1 - Love, Grief and Saying Goodbye

THEY USED METALLICA’S NOTHING ELSE MATTERS AS THE OPENING SONG! We were two seconds in and @margarittet had to pause because we all collectively SCREAMED that they chose to use this as the open song AS WELL! @tinkdw said that she wanted to try and guess what the opening song was this season but I don’t think ANY OF US considered that they would reuse “Nothing Else Matters” because its just so on the nose isn’t it? Nothing else matters? Nothing else matters than what exactly?

Well once again the “Then” sequence ends on Dean kneeling over Cas’s body.

The answer is Castiel. Nothing else matters than CASTIEL. This is repeated CONSTANTLY throughout the episode. You are not allowed to forget about him for a SINGLE SECOND and this opening song drums that home. Seriously if there are any Cas fans out there still bitter about Cas I dunno what show you are watching because it certainly ISN’T the show I watched yesterday.

It hurts to think about. What even was this episode? From the opening song “Nothing Else Matters” to the “Goodbye Cas” at the funeral pyre, this episode was chocablock full of moments that prove unequivocally that for Dean, Cas truly is his guiding light, his hope. Even if you don’t see their relationship as romantic you cannot possibly deny after 13x01 that Dean and Cas have an extraordinary connection and a deep and profound love that has now transferred to an even deeper excruciating grief in Dean.

Choosing to use this song as the season opener though? The season opener always reflects the tones of the season, the main themes. To have THIS song as the season opening? Wow. Just wow. This is a song that comes up first if you google “Metallica Love Song” by the way. In case you were wondering if it was indeed a love song. Because it is. James Hetfield confirmed it was written for a girlfriend. Interestingly though it has been debated over the years as the lyrics themselves are not conventionally romantic lyrics. Nevertheless, this is now fact: Supernatural used a Love Song called “Nothing Else Matters” to set the tone and theme of season 13, lingering over shots of Dean looking down at Castiel’s dead body. This isn’t even arguable. This is where we are.

(and what a wonderful place to be my friends)

Dean’s grief was beautifully portrayed by the superb acting skills of Jensen Ackles. In my season 13 wishlist I said this:

“It probably goes without saying but MAN PAIN OVER CAS – I mean, I reckon we are gonna get a good helping of this. Maybe not immediate tears but its gonna be pretty damn angsty – if the promo’s are anything to go by. I basically want it to be UNDENIABLE in canon that CAS is the reason that Dean is so broken up and that BOTH brothers are seriously struggling with his death. It has to be OBVIOUS how important Cas was to them and how his death has affected them

I think we can tick this one off. :)

Continues under the cut.

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a-sisi-universe  asked:

i love your blog, could you do a drabble in which draco is really obviously flirting and harry is super oblivious, and the draco gives up and kisses him? thanks in advance!!

((I hope you don’t mind, I combined your prompt with one very vague anon prompt…also, I accidentally wrote 1.2k instead of a tiny drabble so I figured you may forgive me.))


“You don’t understand!  After the end of the year, I don’t really see us being around each other much.  I feel like I’m running out of time.  If I don’t do something soon, I’ll lose my chance with him forever!” Draco said.

“Poor thing, can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your chance with a crush, forever, only to be stuck in a toilet, forever…” Myrtle sobbed.

Draco was very used to navigating the ghost’s moodswings, “Of course you can. That’s why you are so important to me.  I didn’t go to any of my other friends, did I?  And I didn’t start talking about myself until after I fixed the lock on your favorite stall?”

Myrtle sniffled. “I guess.  But maybe he just doesn’t like boys.”

“I asked Weasely if he did,” Draco said, “and it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. I only asked if Harry liked boys and he started shouting at me. ‘He can like whoever he wants. You got a problem with that?’ Then he stood up like he was ready to fight me.”

Myrtle almost laughed, “Well, if he turns you down, just remind him that he can come see me any time he likes.”


Harry was his potions partner, his roommate since the eighth year rooming assignments were posted, even his friend.  But Draco wanted more.  He had always wanted more.  Draco had admitted that to himself almost at the beginning of the school year.  Harry never exactly turned him down, either.  That just made everything maddening.

He invited Harry to Hogsmeade the month before.  When Harry accepted, Draco was over the moon.  He came crashing back down to Earth when he grabbed Harry’s hand.  Harry had just stopped walking and looked at Draco.

“What?” Harry asked, pulling his hand out of Draco’s.

Draco panicked, “I, er, do you mind if we stop in to the quidditch supply shop? I need some polish.”

“Well, yeah.  I thought that was what we were here for,” Harry said.  

“I guess I thought we were multitasking,” Draco said.


A week later, in Potions, Harry was leaning over the cauldron to see if it smelled like burnt cinnamon yet as the assignment indicated.  His hair had gotten longer than Draco had ever seen it and he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.  He reached over and ran his fingers through the thick, black tangle of hair, tucking it behind Harry’s ear.

“I wasn’t going to get my hair in the potion,” Harry said. “It’s not that long.”

Draco let out a deep sigh. “I know.”  He made himself look away from Harry only to make eye contact with Weasley who promptly made an I’m-watching-you gesture.


The following weekend, someone asked the house elves to bring cappuccinos and lattes up “as study aides, obviously” and Draco tried to care about the cappuccino in front of him, but he couldn’t stop watching Harry.  He almost choked on air as he watched Harry run his tongue along the rim of his mug, licking the chocolate from the edges of his cafe mocha.  

Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry’s lips.  Draco reached up and brushed his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip.

Harry pulled away. “Do I have chocolate on me?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Completely crestfallen, Draco just shook his head. “You’re good.”  Before he went back to his Transfiguration essay, he caught eye contact with Weasley who was trying very hard not to laugh.


Earlier this week, Draco walked into their room to catch Harry dancing quite ridiculously to some muggle love song.  Harry blushed beautifully, and Draco grabbed his hands and danced with him.  By the end of the song, they were a bit closer than just hand-in-hand and both laughing.

“Why can’t all of my friends be so forgiving when I’m caught doing something silly?” Harry asked. “Hermione danced with me, but Ron never would.“ 

“I wouldn’t say ‘never,’” Weasley said from the doorway.

“Glad I could keep your dignity intact.  I only came in, for, er,” Draco looked around, “this,” he said, grabbing an ink bottle off his desk.  Weasley stared him down as he left the room.


Tonight, they sat in the common room celebrating the end of the first round of exams.  Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry.  He laughed at Harry’s jokes, gave him a friendly shove when those jokes were at Draco’s expense.  Draco melted every time Harry’s leg bumped his own.  He intentionally moved a little closer when he thought it would make Harry’s shoulder brush his own. Then a conversation started taking over the group as a whole.

“I think a first kiss should always be discussed,” Pansy said. “It’s too presumptuous to assume an eye flutter and a smile would mean it’s okay to kiss.”

“It’s just because you’re a massive flirt,” Blaise said.

“Pots and kettles,” Hermione said. “I don’t know, I think it’s important to get consent, but implied consent between two people, depending on the people and the situation, could be okay.”

“I guess that tells you where I stand,” Weasley added. “How ‘bout you Harry? Negotiate kissing or surprise kissing?“ 

Harry shifted in his seat, "I don’t know.  It’s kind of hard to imagine anyone really wanting to kiss me.  Especially now, I mean, I don’t even know any other guys who prefer guys.”

Weasley stared at Draco before looking back at Harry, “Question still stands.  If one of us,” he said, waving a hand at the men in the group, “decided we fancied you.  Would you insist we asked permission?”

Draco’s head was going fuzzy.  Maybe he needed to remind himself to breathe.

“You trying to admit something there, Ron?” Harry laughed.

“Answer the question, dude,” Weasley said.  More than a couple people were looking at him like he’d sprouted a second face.

Harry threw his hands up in defeat, “What is the deal? Why are you getting so worked up over this? No. No. No I’m not opposed to surprise kisses! No, kiss consent isn’t something I insist on. No.  Okay. No-”

Before he realized he was moving, Draco had Harry’s face in his hands and his lips on Harry’s.  

“Thank fuck!” Weasley shouted.

Draco kissed Harry roughly, months of oblivious rejections be damned. When he felt Harry’s hands on him, he worried for the briefest moment that Harry would push him away.  It didn’t happen.  Harry’s arms circled his waist, pulling him closer as he kissed Draco back.  And, oh sweet Merlin, he moaned against Draco’s lips.  

Draco pulled away enough to ask, “How the bloody hell did you not know I like men?!”

Harry laughed, “Too much to hope for, I guess.”

Weasley, one of the few who hadn’t left while they were practically devouring each other, said, “He’s only been throwing himself at you for years, mate. And, Malfoy, I’d say it’s about bloody time you made a move but in your defense, you’ve been putting moves on him all year.”

Harry started to say something, but Draco cut him off with a kiss.

“Want to go discuss this, privately?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded. “Please.”

Damn you’ve got it bad

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: What would have happened if Peter had gone to the pool in D.C.?

Warnings: peter being ripped, a few mentions of this because why not

A/N: I know I haven’t been very active lately, so I hope this makes up for it. I am currently working on something though :)

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Breaking the Rules - part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,157

Warnings: the usual +  Mention of Cheating, Mention of Emotionally Abusive Relationship

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter, lovelies!

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

Originally posted by pennymany

You woke up with a start, unsure where you were. The distant sound of laughter filled the room and you rolled to your side, groaning. The light filtering through the curtains was bright enough to see by, but your eyes were still blurry from sleep.

“It’s barely seven!” Bucky groaned.

His head appeared just above the mattress as he sat up from the floor. He was at eye level with you and yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth. You buried your face into the pillow, mumbling something about morning breath.

“So this is what you look like in the morning,” he said, stretching his back. “Interesting.”

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Not A Joke - Soulmate AU! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Soulmate tattoo - Your soulmates birthdays appears on your body. Imagine being a young adult in the year 2017 and having ‘March 10th, 1917’ written on your arm (REQUEST BY ANON)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: None, really ! Enjoy,,,,

Word count: 2K

[[ Check Out My Masterlist ]]

A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

March 10th, 1917
She didn’t get it; nobody did. How could she, a woman that lived in the year 2017, have a soulmate that is 100 years old? She always thought it was a painful joke. Everyone around her had years written on their wrist, arms, legs, you name it. But from the year 1917? No. She was the only one. The one who had a joke for a soulmate.

Yeah, sure, maybe there was one old man still kickin’ it out there, but there was no chance in hell she’d marry him. There was no chance she’d put herself in that type of predicament, therefore, her tattoo was a joke.

It pissed her off, beyond what anyone could imagine. Everyday, she was reminded by the date, the date tattooed in the crease of her arm. It pissed her off because she wasn’t the type that normally attracted anyone. She wasn’t the one for love, or so that’s what she thought. Nobody was really interested in her, and the only chance of someone liking her was for a laugh.

She was deep in her thoughts when someone brought her back to reality.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Don’t want to be caught dozing off on the job, do you?” Her friend, Austin, threw a hacky sack at her arm.

Laughing, she picked it up and swung it back at him. “You need these for the customers! Don’t go throwing them at your friends!”

He swiftly grabbed the toy before setting it on the small counter. There were a handful of booths in the amusement park, and they just had to make him watch over the ones with miniature bing bags.

While Austin was taking over the booth called ‘Tin Can Toss’, she was in charge of the ‘I Can Guess Your Weight/Age!’ game. She hated it, really, but she had to make money some how, and for her it was guessing something she didn’t nearly care about.

It’s not that it was boring, but it was stupid. They had her take special classes, 45 minutes a day wasted on learning what was the best way to guess someone’s age or weight. Sure, she’d rather be working at a Starbucks or any old candy store, but for now she was stuck on a guessing game.

“Keep an eye out, I think that group over there is planning on playing your game” Austin spoke up, pointing in the direction behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and groaned. Three guys and girl were leaning up against a fence that surrounded the carousel nearby, their eyes stuck on the booth you sat in. A darker male was laughing loudly, nudging another man with long brown hair your way.

“Nah, they’re just laughing at how stupid the game is.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N). I think they’re coming!” He nodded his head in their direction, clearly pointing out that the group was making their way toward you.

She practically whined at her friend before turning towards the customers with a fake smile.

“Hello! Plan on playing?” She kept that fake smile plastered on her face, observing each and every one of them.

“Yeah, actually, my friend here wants you to guess his age.” The darker man from before clamped his hands on the back of the brunettes shoulders, pushing him even closer to her.

“Oh, yeah? Alright, let’s give it a go! It’ll just be 5 dollars.” She watched as the third man dug his wallet out of his pocket. After a few moments, he handed her the bill and she stuck it in the apron around her waist.

“Okay, so let’s see.” She walked toward the shy man, looking him up and down, studying his facial features and body shape. “You don’t mind if I just… awkward check you out, right? I promise, it’s part of the job.”

He smiled, chuckling silently. His eyes observed the woman before him, watching her study his body as if it were an art piece in a gallery.

“Well, before I guess, remember that if I’m 2 years off, it counts. Alright?” She crossed her arms, thinking one last time before receiving a nod from the male.

“Okay, give it your best.” His friends behind him laughed, covering their mouths. She knew something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what. The whole group was acting weird. Why were they acting weird?

“28.” She shrugged her shoulders, wrinkling her eyes in uncertainty. She watched them as they held their laughter in, trying not to seem like they were laughing at her guess.

“Way off?” She dropped her arms, sighing. “I’m new to this job. I lost, go ahead and grab a prize.” She placed a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her face as she closed her eyes.

“Don’t even want to know my actual age?” He hesitantly stood there, looking back at his friend, then returning his gaze back at her.

“To see how much I failed? Nah, I’ll pass.” She smiled while doubting herself, watching the man rub his stubble.

“You technically are around that age physically, Bucky. Cut her some slack, she was right.” The blond friend set his hand on Buckys shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows, giving a confused smile. “Whatever that’s suppose to mean.”

He looked back at his friends, receiving an ‘approval’ nod. Not only did she notice, but she was even more confused as she was before.

“Well, I don’t know how to say this but,” He trailed off, looking behind him at his blond friend again. She could tell he was looking for reassurance, but not what for. “I’m 100 years old. My body looks around 28 years old, but technically I’m 100.”

She put on a humorous smile, looking over at Austin who was eavesdropping from the booth. He hid his laugh, shrugging at her.

“100? Glad I know someone around the same age, I’m 97.” She held her hand out at Bucky, smiling mischievously while he gave her a serious look.

“Don’t believe me?” She dropped he hand, rolling her eyes at how serious he was taking the act.

“Why would I? There is no way in hell you’re 100 years old. You don’t even look old enough to have your own children.” She leaned against the back of the booth, crossing her arms and laughing dryly.

“He’s not lying.” The friend from earlier walked forward, setting his hand on Buckys shoulder. “Ever heard of Captain America?”

She continued to stare strangely at the men, wondering why they’re even telling her this. Even if they were telling the truth, why go as far as this to prove it to her?

“Steve Rogers, the face of America! A man who was frozen in ice, brought back, and now works for the Avengers or something. Are you telling me you’re Captain America?” She sarcastically explained, rubbing her eyes, and growing tired of the conversation. None of it made sense to her, and she didn’t care anyways.

“Well, I am. This here is my friend Bucky.” The blond claimed, staring at her as if not an ounce of what he said was a lie.

She leaned her head back, looking at the sky.
Great, (Y/N). Here you are, sitting at a worthless booth being told this man is 100 years old and is best friends with Captain America.

“Okay, but why are you telling me this?” She straightened her back, grabbing the nearby water bottle and taking a long drink.

“We walked past this booth earlier, and uh,” He trailed off, looking towards the darker man that had kept quiet this whole time. “My friend, Sam, noticed your arm.”

“My arm?” She looked down at her arm, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“Well, it says the 10th of March, 1917.” His finger pointed toward the part of your arm which had the birthdate of your soulmate.

“You’re not implying that-“

“Is your birthday (DD/MM/1989)? That’s all I want to know.” Bucky cut her off, staring at her arm and then into her eyes. “I just want to make for sure.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She furrowed her eyebrows, staring at the floor. There was no way he was he soulmate, this made no sense.

She took a deep breath, accepting the situation and began to believe it. Why would they lie about this? It had to be true, right?

“All this time I thought I was going to be this old mans soulmate. There’s no way! This has to be a joke!” She ran her hands through her hair, looking over at her friend for support. He shrugged his shoulders before giving her a smile that basically said ‘it’s all on you’.

She inhaled deeply, staring at the blue-eyed man in front of her. “If you are my soulmate, then this whole time I actually had one, and it wasn’t some old man on life support. Holy shit! I can’t believe this! I never thought this day would come! I think I’m actually-“

“Calm down, Doll.” His voice spoke deeply to her, calming her down instantly. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

She slowly nodded, taking in a deep breath and calming her heart beat.

Someone scoffed loudly behind him, speaking up in a humorous voice. “Don’t tell her to calm down, you were practically the same way before we calmed you down and brought you over here.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, looking behind him and slapping the mans arm, receiving a troublesome grin. “Sam. You’ve stayed quiet, and then you decided to speak at the worse time?”

Bucky turned back to her, looking at her arm once again before pulling his left sleeve up. “I always thought that God put a date from many generations after me on my arm as a joke. As if I couldn’t love anyone from my own generation. I surrounded myself with different woman, hoping to just prove to myself that I could love someone. Then I lost my arm, and for the longest I couldn’t remember the date that was printed there.”

“Your arm-“ She instantly grabbed his left arm, holding it in her hands and admiring the metal blades. She would have felt sorry, but she somewhat found it amazing. “You can use this as your arm? How is that possible?”

She traced her fingers against the patterns on his arm, holding them strongly in her grip as if it was as fragile as a glass plate.

“Maybe you can explain it to her over dinner tonight.” The woman finally spoke up, giving you both a smirk.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, laughing at what she had said “Did you just hit on her for me?”

“Someone had to do it.”

“Agreed” Steve spoke up, earning a nod from Sam.

“Keep in mind that you were the back alley kid once.” Bucky shook his head before pulling his sleeve back down and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Steve walked up, giving him a pat on the back. “Hey, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Call me when you’re ready.

They shared a smile before exchanging a few words, and parting ways. The three traveled to a food stand across the walkway, slowly watching them both out of the corner of their eyes.

He began to speak, trying to start a small conversation and learn the basics but he kept noticing the obvious glances from across the park.

“Obvious, aren’t they?” He looked across the area, watching them as they quickly look the other way as if they weren’t staring moments before.

“Very.”

He smiled awkwardly before hesitantly holding out his human arm towards her. She gave him a confusing, but humorous look before slowly accepting it and shaking.

“Sorry, I just never got to introduce myself properly. Bucky Barnes, well, James Barnes. I’d like to go by Bucky though.”

“I kinda like James, I don’t know.” She teased, giving him a quick wink and setting her hands on her hips. “Nice to meet you, bucky.”

“C’mon now, Darlin’. I need a name in return.” He sheepishly smiled at her, receiving a blush and an awkward smile.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

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