i made these at three in the morning

Today, I traded three dozen yard eggs and two loaves of raisin bread for a carafe of homemade blackberry wine (I think) and a jar of orange marmalade. Orange ‘rosemary’ marmalade the octogenarian quipped. Said she eats it every morning on toast with her tea whilst gazing at the herons through binoculars.

And of course we made plans for tea and bird watching soon. She claims she will teach me everything she knows. What a charming lady.💫

the houses as studyblr aesthetics

gryffindor:

  • being brave enough to do math in pen, leather-bound bullet journals, looseleaf papers spilling over your desk, studying with your dog curled up next to you, seven-hour breaks, keeping a candle on your desk, logging memories in your bullet journal, coffee stains on homework, annotating a rented textbook, a warm study nook made of blankets and pillows, studying to overcome

hufflepuff:

  • romanticizing self-care, refusing to take the easy way and read the sparknotes, keeping hydrated, “i have extra binder paper if you need it”, taping positivities on your wall, study picnics, volunteering, bright binders, a study space illuminated by morning light, keeping three pots of flowers on your desk, studying to contribute

ravenclaw:

  • finding doodles in secondhand textbooks, researching the origin of a word you don’t recognize, pens in mason jars, walls crowded by sticky-notes, the inspiration of a blank notebook, finding your favorite library seat available, being excited about your essay prompt, scrawling notes in the margins, being so utterly engaged in one subject you forget you have a lab due tomorrow, studying to learn

slytherin:

  • quotes about conquering the world and achieving goals, finding the perfect black pen, the feeling of checking off boxes on to-do lists, friendly grade competition, compiling resource masterposts, being genuinely excited to get your score back on a test, getting the perfect calligraphy line, studying to succeed
Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him, pouting ‘the whole Slytherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

‘I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

‘It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

‘Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. ‘I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the second he had laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry held his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he had in him. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he was also his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade him with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoodie. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

stan the man and mike fall in love and become an iconic power couple, sorry i don’t make the rules:

-they initially bond over their mutual fear of disappointing their fathers (or grandfather) and once the bond is made, it’s unbreakable

-stan will often come over and the two boys will just lie on the grass behind the barn and make up stories to take their minds off of whatever’s going on thats upsetting one or the other  

-their first kiss is when they’re on the grass and stan is rambling off a story about an animal ghost town living among them, mocking their human ways, when mike put his hand in stan’s hair and leaned in

-stan was frozen for about five seconds and mike was just about to pull away when he felt a hand on his face and insistent lips on his own

-they become inseparable after that, and it doesn’t take too long for the rest of the losers to find out

-richie is the first to find out. he will go to his grave insisting that “his gaydar is the high quality shit” but really he saw them holding hands at one of the losers club movie nights

-eddie is next because “guys you have to let me tell eddie! he’s gonna be so psyched that we’re not the only couple in the group! please please plea-” 

-they tell the rest of the club and no one is particularly surprised. everyones happy they’re happy

-they are definitely the Old Married Couple, everyone comes to them for advice

-stan brings out the snark in an otherwise quiet mike and mike brings out the soft in an otherwise rigid stan. the losers club is shook when they see how soft stan is around mike 

-they’re just totally in love and fully respect and understand each other?? 

gryffindor:
being brave enough to do math in pen, leather-bound bullet journals, looseleaf papers spilling over your desk, studying with your dog curled up next to you, seven-hour breaks, keeping a candle on your desk, logging memories in your bullet journal, coffee stains on homework, annotating a rented textbook, a warm study nook made of blankets and pillows, studying to overcome

hufflepuff:
romanticizing self-care, refusing to take the easy way and read the sparknotes, keeping hydrated, “i have extra binder paper if you need it”, taping positivities on your wall, study picnics, volunteering, bright binders, a study space illuminated by morning light, keeping three pots of flowers on your desk, studying to contribute

ravenclaw:
finding doodles in secondhand textbooks, researching the origin of a word you don’t recognize, pens in mason jars, walls crowded by sticky-notes, the inspiration of a blank notebook, finding your favorite library seat available, being excited about your essay prompt, scrawling notes in the margins, being so utterly engaged in one subject you forget you have a lab due tomorrow, studying to learn

slytherin:
quotes about conquering the world and achieving goals, finding the perfect black pen, the feeling of checking off boxes on to-do lists, friendly grade competition, compiling resource masterposts, being genuinely excited to get your score back on a test, getting the perfect calligraphy line, studying to succeed

Love Sick // Arctic Monkeys Songs for the Venus Signs

Did it for The 1975, now enjoy the Arctic Monkeys version! Taken from my favorite albums, “AM” and “Suck It and See.”

Aries venus: She’s Thunderstorms 

I’ve been feeling foolish
You should try it
She came and substituted
The peace and quiet
For acrobatic blood.

Taurus venus: Fireside 

There’s all those places we used to go
And I suspect you already know
But that place on memory lane you liked still looks the same
But something about it’s changed.

Gemini venus: The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala

Just when things are getting complicated in the eye of the storm
She flicks a red-hot revelation off the tip of her tongue
It does a dozen somersaults and it leaves you supercharged
Makes me wanna blow her candles out just to see if you glow in the dark.

Cancer venus: I Wanna Be Yours

If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots babe
I just wanna be yours.

Leo venus: Knee Socks

And you were sitting in the corner with the coats all piled high
And I thought you might be mine
In a small world on an exceptionally rainy Tuesday night
In the right place and time.

Virgo venus: Love Is A Laserquest 

Now I can’t think of air without thinking of you
I doubt that comes as a surprise
And I can’t think of anything to dream about
I can’t find anywhere to hide.

Libra venus: No. 1 Party Anthem

She’s a certified mind blower knowing full well that I don’t
I may suggest there’s somewhere from which I might know her
Just to get the ball to roll
Drunken monologues, confused because
It’s not like I’m falling in love I just want you to do me no good.

Scorpio venus: Suck It and See

Your love is like a studded leather headlock
Your kiss, it could put creases in the rain
You’re rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock
And those other girls are just Postmix lemonade.

Sagittarius venus: Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Now it’s three in the morning,
And I’m trying to change your mind,
Left you multiple missed calls
And to my message you reply.
Why’d you only call me when you’re high?

Capricorn venus: Do I Wanna Know?

I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
‘Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow
When I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep.

Aquarius venus: Reckless Serenade

Illuminations
On a rainy day
When she walks her footsteps sing
A reckless serenade.

Pisces venus: Arabella 

Arabella’s got a seventies head
But she’s a modern lover
It’s an exploration, she’s made of outer space
And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge
And her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place.

-Admin L

Petname Babygirl II pt.1

yoongi x reader

genre: smut, dom!yoongi, sugardaddy!yoongi

word count: 7.3k


Sleeping with some random guy was one thing. But realizing that he is your boss was a disaster until he offers you something tempting you cannot reject.

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

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THE NINE TIMES STEVE GAVE YOU A FUNNY LOOK

Originally posted by themarvelnerd

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Warning(s): the kinda language Steve would smh at

World Count: 3827

Author’s Note: I got so into this it’s not even funny. After like, two years of not doing anything on tumblr, it isn’t surprising that i write a Steve oneshot for the first time since. But on that note, I don’t only do Steve works, please feel free to request other characters and/or fandoms: masterlist - prompt list.

Drabble ★ Imagine ★ One Shot ★ Fanfiction
Original ★ Requested




[Y/N] [Y/L/N] was an asshole.
You were an asshole.
You are an asshole.

You were slightly narcissistic with an ego as big as the tower, you were very beautiful, and the last person on earth to ever be considered shy.

That made you and Tony Stark best of pals (most of the time), and you and Steve as foes (all the time). He wasn’t rude or a jerk or at all hostile, Steve was just always on edge with you. He didn’t know whether or not your jokes were jokes (you always reverted back to slitting your enemy’s throats – Steve being a righteous guy and all, he wasn’t all that optimistic with that choice), or if you really were here to save people and not for the money the government and Tony Stark paid you — eh, what can you say, it’s very, very good money.

Humble was also not on your list of qualities.

Bold red lips, a wide grin to showcase your pearly white teeth, and heart shaped sunglasses. That was you in your room as you blasted out music at exactly 2100 hours.

You and Steve shared a floor in the Avengers tower.

Why? It was a decision that was absolutely not your choice, but you had no problem with it. Fucking with Steve was fun.

See, Tony had a whole floor to himself, same as Bruce and Vision. Nat and Clint were right below them (Clint usually at his place with Laura, though), Sam and Scott also had their own floor, Wanda and Pietro, then last but not least, Thor either in Asgard or London with Jane – which then pretty much left you and Steve together. Peter kind of lived here during the day then and back at his apartment with May during the evenings. He was a total pest.

A knock went by unnoticed by you. But an upset looking Steve did. He stalked into your (much larger) room and paused your music. He turned and gave you a look.

You raised your brow as you paused your late night dancing. You pushed your sunglasses further down your nose to peak up at the Captain. “Captain.” You greeted, nodding your head towards the brooding soldier once. “May I help you?“ You raised your perfectly sculpted brow in questioning.

Steve took a deep breath and crossed his (also very large) arms. “Your music was too loud and I’m trying to sleep. Can’t you at least keep it down?”

You snorted. “It’s barely nine o'clock, grandpa.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not a grandpa.” He grumbled with an offended frown. “Just turn it down, will you?”

You smirked and pushed your glasses back up. “Oh, I’m sorry, have I spangled your stars, grandpa?”

With a final narrowed stare, Steve twisted his Dorito-body around and stalked back to his room.

You chuckled and resumed to your midnight dancing with wine.

That was the first time you got on his nerves. It was also the first time you were on the receiving end of his very famous looks.




The second time you received a stupid look was during a mission - in the middle of combat, mind you. This stupid robot who called himself Ultron was trying to ruin everything, and apparently, it was up to you and the rest of the Avengers to stop him – or it. It’s not that you wanted to. it was kind of what Tony Stark paid you to do. And like hell would you pass up Tony Stark’s pay checks.

Steve trusted you now, at least. You only saved his ass, like, a hundred (three) times after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and he found out his best friend from seventy years ago was still alive. A wild ride, that year was.

Anyway, you and the team were in Sokovia fighting robots.


ROBOTS.


Fuck this shit, if the money wasn’t so good you’d drop your signature double pistols and walk the opposite direction. But one, your pistols were very delicate (silver with diamonds), and you were asked very nicely to stay by Bruce - and you could never say no to Bruce.

In hindsight, the view wasn’t so bad and I guess – I guess – that saving people felt a little good (don’t tell anybody). Sokovia was so far high into the sky that you could have sworn that you could see angels flying around in the distance – some helpful angels, huh.

The sky was beautiful, though. And so was Captain America’s ass.

You beamed at the sight and turned to Steve. “Hey, Cap?” You called out, shooting a robot.

Steve grunted in acknowledgement as he kicked another robot and decapitated it with his shield. “What?” He gave you a glance that barely lasted a second.

You shot another robot. Then another. Then another. Then you turned to him. “Nice ass.”

That was look number two.




"Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

"Yes, Ms [Y/L/N]?”

"What’s your faculty on nicknames?”

"Activated by Mr Stark, Ms.”

"Huh … so, like, what are you allowed to call me?”

"Whatever you ask, Ms [Y/L/N].”

“Right, right … how about Supreme Leader [Y/L/N]?”

"Activated,  Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”

"Huh … thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

"Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”


Of course, that didn’t go unnoticed for long. You were eating dinner with the team – something that didn’t happen often – and Steve took this time to lecture the team about a mission in a few days time. Three days, to be exact. It was located in Paris, and you were all to attend a gala crawling with HYDRA agents, mercenaries, psycho bitches, and anything else in between.

“ – so we’ll go over the plans again after dinner – ”

You groaned loudly and threw your head back. You dropped your knife loudly causing a clink made by the knife and plate. “Rogers!” You whined, “We went over this yesterday! And this morning at breakfast! And two seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinner in peace, fighting the urge to grab this fork and shove it through my eye – ” you ignore his wince, “and now again tomorrow?! If you even bring this stupid mission up again, I will resign.” You threatened. “Resign, you hear me. R. E. S. I. G. N.” Drama Queen is also in your list of qualities. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell him.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, Sam cleared his throat, Steve still had his wince and sullen/guilty face, Clint looked bored as he played with his peas, Thor looked confused, Pietro look amused, Wanda was too busy chatting up Vision, Scott was – where was Scott? Tony had a smirk, and poor Bruce just didn’t know where to look. Peter just chewed his chicken in anticipation, looking back and forth between you and Steve for a reaction.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang out soon enough. “Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].” Then the AI began repeating your every word.

Natasha’s brow shot up. “Supreme Leader? Really?”

“ – And this morning at breakfast. And – ”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“ – seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinn – ”

Steve groaned. “That’s enough, F.R.I.D.A.Y., please stop.”

“Yes, Captain.”

You rolled your eyes. “Traitorous bitch.” You mumbled.

Cue look number three.




The fourth time you received a look was when Steve was fixing a lightbulb and he suddenly found himself on the floor. He did know you guys hired people for that kind of work, right?

Anyway, you and Pietro - bored as hell and without anything to do - you both decided to race from the ground floor of the Avengers tower, to the very top – on foot – using the staircases.

And the silver asshole was absolutely not allowed to use his powers. If he did, you had every right to shoot him in the shoulder with your trusty diamond pistols and he would have to take it like a man. He promised so, himself. “Scouts Honour.” Pietro said, saluting you.

To which Wanda replied with a snort and, “What Scouts Honour?”

You were enhanced, yes, but you were tired. Not too much, just enough not to be tired after running twenty-six flights of stairs. You and Pietro both slammed into Steve’s ladder as he fixed a lightbulb.

You didn’t even bother looking back.

You could not lose this bet.

The entire time you ran, you repeated the same thing in your head over, and over again. Run, Forrest, Run! Whatever - If Pietro won, you had to massage him whenever he felt like it for an entire month. If you won, well, he had to give you a piggy back ride whenever you felt like it. Also for a month.

Steve was really upset after that. He wouldn’t look at you for a week, and when he finally did, he gave you a long lecture about racing inside the tower. “Blah, blah, blah, someone could get seriously hurt, blah, blah, blah, if I see you two race again, blah, blah, blah.”

You leant over towards Pietro who sat beside you. He was also slouched on his chair, eyes looking at the ceiling in boredom. “Are you also feeling the urge to shove your foot up his ass?”

That was look number four.




Look number five + look number six was kind of your fault.

Steve had arrived after being gone for months. He, along with Sam, had been off around the world searching high and low for James Buchanan Barnes. You wanted to go, you really did. Despite your love for annoying the living shit out of Steve, you still cared about him more than you let on. That was not your fault. How? Well, you know the whole shebang: 

Tragic back story: check. Trust issues: check. Daddy issues: check. Issues with not being able to express how you feel without wanting to physically vomit: check.

However, it was in your job description to be able to read people. You were an intelligent person. You knew a lot, you sensed a lot, you observed a lot. You just didn’t show it a lot. And without saying anything, you knew how people felt and most importantly, what they needed.

And Steve just needed his own space – Sam excluded. You were actually kind of jealous of Sam (tell anyone, and you won’t live until the next day). Sam was kind of Steve’s boyfriend (along with dear old Buck-a-roo and Tony).

So while he was gone, you kept your distance. Steve didn’t need any more on his plate, let alone more of your shit. Whenever he called the team for a report or to simply catch up, you never said anything. You had told the crew to just inform him that you were on a mission, in the gym, or off gallivanting somewhere - anywhere, really.

Steve really cared about you though, you knew that. Every time he called he’d see if you were there. And you were. You were there, right behind the monitor that projected him along with the the camera that projected the team from your end. Your face would be resting on your hand, your elbow propped the table. You actually smiled whenever he asked about you. It was cute.

Anyway, you kind of deserved look number five.

Steve had finally arrived with Bucky by his side. Sam had already said his hellos and received his welcome-home handshakes and hugs. Steve stayed behind the Quinjet for a few short minutes before hopping off and finally introducing the famous James Barnes. 

But you didn’t know that.

And neither did Scott.

You two weren’t racing – nope. You were simply just running to get to the last slice of cake in the main kitchen. In both your defence, it was the last slice of the cake Pepper brought home from Paris. Paris. You loved Paris. And apparently, Scott did, too. If that wasn’t worth running for, what the hell was?

You distinctly remember Pepper saying that it was from Paris, and that it was the best cake she’d ever tasted.

So, without looking, you barged through the team yelling bloody murder. Scott was a little behind seen as though you’d throw whatever the hell you could at him. That last slice was yours, and ramming, pushing, throwing off the building, and threatening whoever you needed to just to that slice, you would sure as hell do it.

You felt your hip slam into a corner of a table: ignored. You tripped over a step: ignored. You felt your shoulder ram into a very strong and metal-like object: ignored. You saw a couch: ignored + jumped over.

But alas, you held in your hand … the slice.

A grin erupted on your face. Poor Scoot looked crestfallen.

“Sorry, Lang. This one’s mine.” You grinned.

A clearing of the throat made you jump. What the hell did they want? 

When you looked up, you saw the entire team + Steve + The Winter Soldier.


Well, shit.


“Oh.” You trailed off. You gave Steve a sheepish smile. “Hi, Steve, good to see you again. Did I tell you I missed you? Because I did.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop running in the tower?” Steve stared into your [Y/E/C] eyes with his blue ones.

“No. You told said to stop racing.”

Steve didn’t reply. Instead he gave you look number five.

You chuckled nervously and stalked towards them. “Sorry.” You looked to Sam and gave him a large hug despite already giving him one earlier. Your right hand still refused to let go of the platter of cake. Then you looked towards James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve cleared his throat. “Buck, meet [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. [Y/N] [Y/L/N], meet Bucky.”

Neither of you did anything. Just kinda stared at each other in thought. He tried to read you while you tried to read him.

He was lonely.

Okay, you thought. So you reached your right hand up and gestured him to take your plate. “Here you go. Nice to meet ‘cha.” 

Steve gave you another look, only, this one was different. It looked funnier – more odd and curious. A look that you had never seen before. That was look number six.

And this time, you didn’t see anyone’s reactions. You just stared at James Buchanan Barnes, while he stared at you, to the cake, then back to you again. 

Thus, a beautiful friendship was born.




Few months later,
Look number seven.


You found yourself in this position a lot, it seems. It would be two in the morning, your head in your hands and your ears perked up.

As an agent, you were trained this way. Your mind had its own mind. Every morning at exactly one o'clock your eyes would flutter open, and without a single thought, your body would move almost mechanically. You’d get up, wash your face, then throw a hoodie over your head. Afterwards, you’d find yourself sitting on the edge of you bed, head in your hands, and your ears waiting for Bucky.

After sleeping in the same floor as Steve and Bucky, Bucky’s room was right across yours. Both your doors were so close you could stand in the hall way, spread your arms, and you’d be able to touch both your door knobs.

Insomnia was something you had as a child. It came very naturally. So, as a cure, you’d take sleeping vitamins – not pills. Though it would help you fall asleep, it was up to you to keep yourself asleep. Five hours was your maximum. If your sleep was disturbed, that’s when you would wake up every day from then on unless you trained yourself otherwise all over again. That could take days, or even weeks going up to months.

So every day, it was up to you. You didn’t want Steve waking up and losing precious sleeping hours. So instead of training yourself to sleep for five hours all over again, you allowed yourself two hours of rest every night. From then on, you’d stay awake and listen for Bucky’s screams.

Then you’d find your feet silently landing on the floor and rushing towards Bucky’s room.


Here are your steps:

  1. Lightly press a pillow on Bucky’s metal arm and cover it.
  2. Sit on his arm to keep him from attacking you.
  3. Softly say his name as many times as it takes for him to wake up.
  4. Press your body harder onto his as he thrashes around.
  5. Then hug the hell out of him and cradle his head when he wakes and begins to weep.


This would have been the one hundredth time you’ve done this. Even now, you could still remember the fourth time you had done this. You had accidentally left Bucky’s door ajar.

You were observant and smart. 

You knew Steve was there.

You guessed you just took a little longer that time to wake Buck up.

You definitely saw Steve’s look then. And again, this look was kind of different. It was a funny look that you had no idea how to read.

The fact that this look was so different, to say it irritated the hell out of you was an understatement. Out of the both of you, it was meant to be you that got under his skin.

You hated feeling this way.




Nowadays, you’ve been more confused than in control.

Back then, you saw Steve, you’d feel the urge to irritate the hell out of him. But now, you’d see Steve, and suddenly, you’d feel a funny feeling in your stomach.

So, naturally, you absolutely despised him for it. Tonight – or morning – when Bucky woke up, he didn’t cry. He just asked if you were hungry. And, naturally, you had said yes. You were always hungry.

Soft music was playing. You didn’t want to wake up Steve, after all. So you stood in the kitchen of your floor and began making pop tarts. Bucky was sitting by the kitchen island while you decided to cheer him up. While the pop tarts were cooking up, you decided to change the music to pop. Then you began dancing.

You were not a dancer. Add that to your list of non-existent qualities.

You sort of just threw your hands in the air and hoped for natural rhythm to save your dignity. 

Bucky looked somewhat amused, so that was the goal accomplished.

It all came to an end when Steve cleared his throat. He stared at Bucky in a way that made all of you uncomfortable. Bucky was going to be just fine, that’s what you thought, anyway. Steve thought otherwise. Steve treated him like a broken vase.

That’s how you and Bucky got so close. 

You refused to look or listen to any of Steve’s old war stories about Buck. Thus, why you called Bucky “James”.

He wasn’t the Bucky he was in the 40’s. And he wasn’t The Winter Soldier, either. He was someone else.

Steve’s eyes bounced from you, to Bucky, then from Bucky, to you. “[Y/N], maybe now isn’t the time to – ”

“No, Steve,” Steve’s eyes snapped towards Bucky, “it’s fine.” Bucky said quietly. “She’s actually making me happy here.” 

After that, nobody talked to a while. Bucky stood from his stool and began to walk off. 

You stepped towards him, “James - ”

He shook his head. “It’s alright [Y/N], trust me. I’ll be fine tonight. I’m gonna try and go back to sleep.”

Well, that was new.

You gave Bucky a funny look but nodded. “Okay. Call if you need me.”

Bucky didn’t say anything after that. He just walked back to his room.

Your pop tarts popped out from the toaster. After that it was left untouched.

Steve cleared his throat. “[Y/N] – ” 

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Steve’s forehead frowned. “What?”

“Do you want Bucky to get over what HYDRA did to him?” You asked. You didn’t wait for him to reply. “Well, too bad so sad, he isn’t going to get over it. Bucky needs to accept it. Then he needs to be angry. Then he needs to be sad. Then after all that, he needs to forgive himself.” You said, your hands on your waist. “And you making him feel like broken glass isn’t gonna help. It’ll confine him and make him feel crazy. Treat him like a normal person, you jackass. Let him feel like a man. Not a baby.” You took a deep breath and pulled your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. You looked at your pop tarts briefly before turning around and walking away.

And you didn’t miss his look when you did. Steve had already realised he was wrong the moment his eyes fell on the toaster.

You left your pop tarts.




Look number nine:

Again, it was in the kitchen. Bucky’s nightmares were slowly fading. Whenever he woke, you’d stay until he fell back asleep. Then you’d proceed to the kitchen and rummage for food.

“Hey, Supreme Leader.” Your head snapped towards the kitchen entrance.

You gave a nod to the blond man in acknowledgement. “Captain.” You said in a mocking soldier’s tone.

You both stood in silence for a while. You didn’t mind it for a while. Your arms were preoccupied with balancing cartons and containers of food as you boldly chewed on your Lucky Charms cereal – and then the silence just got too long. Steve stared at you with a funny look. Eh, eating cereal without milk at three in the morning wasn’t all that unusual – but for some reason, you had a really big feeling the look wasn’t about the cereal. That was actually the reason why Tony always complained about all the marshmallow gone in the morning. Not your fault. Marshmallows were the best part and everyone knew that.

You squinted your eyes as you watched him watch you. A silent growl of impatience rose to your throat. You couldn’t really speak so you opted with growling.

Still no reply.

Finally, you forcefully swallowed your marshmallow and pointed an accusing finger at Steve. His look was different again. It wasn’t annoyed or of frustration. Really it just frustrated you.

You huffed. “You’re looking at me funny.”

Steve just smiled softly. “Bucky loves you.” He said from his position by the entrance of the kitchen.

You just smirked and shoved another handful of marshmallows into your mouth. “Figured that one out a long time ago, Rogers.” Your hand reached into the box once again. “What can I say, I’m good at making friends.” 

Steve chuckled silently. Then he swallowed and looked directly into your eyes. “I love you. And not the way Bucky does.”

You swallowed. The you nodded slowly. Your heart felt so full, you had no idea what to say. And so you said the first thing that popped into your head. You said what you would say, and not stupid Nicholas Sparks movies.

“I know.” You grinned. “And I may or may not feel the same.” Before he could reply, your smile wiped off as you pointed your finger at him again accusingly, “I said maybe.”

As time passes, the bonds between the IPRE increase and that probably increases the power of the engine. Right at the beginning, though, as they’re racing away from one of the early worlds, Davenport has the sinking realization that it’s not enough. The engine is not running on enough power to outrun the apocalypse again, and of course it isn’t, because it was designed for a leisurely two-month exploration and not a high-speed chase. They’re not going to make it. And he thinks his crew must realize that, too, because they’re all nervously glancing out of the windows as he narrowly evades another deadly blow. 

Damn it all, they’re his responsibility, they look to him for guidance and he’s going to get all of them killed because he couldn’t do the one thing he’s best at well enough. They’re good people and they don’t deserve this. He doesn’t know why, but suddenly it’s vital that they all know that they’re more to him than just strangers. 

“If we don’t make it out of this,” he calls over his shoulder, “I want you all to know that it was an honor to travel with you.” He can’t turn his attention away from where they’re going, but he can feel their stares on his back. And, because he’s the best at what he does, he can feel the ship shudder slightly under him, gaining the smallest surge of extra energy in the engine. 

The bonds engine, which runs on bonds. Fuck.

Davenport calls out again, this time with far less gravitas: “If any of you want to, I don’t know, hug it out or something now would be a great time.”

It takes a moment for them to catch on, but they’re his crew, so of course they do.

“I think you have beautiful eyes!” It’s Barry, suddenly the approximate complexion of a tomato, and he’s got his face in his hands seconds later so it’s not even clear who he was talking to but the outburst sets the rest of them off.

“Lucretia, you have lovely handwriting even though I can’t read a damn word!”

“Magnus, for the love of whatever gods are watching, you are very brave but please stop getting yourself killed?”

“Those cupcakes without the icing that you made are kickass, Taako!” (And, somewhere in the background an indignant shriek of “Muffins? Do you mean muffins, Magnus?”)

“You make the best coffee at three in the morning which is some kind of fucking lost art, and that’s the only reason you’re allowed to correct my notes even though I was absolutely right about that last equation you erased, wasn’t I?

That was an accident, Lup - Merle I think your approach to both horticulture and religion are… uniquely inspired.”

“Davenport, you are a very brave leader and I appreciate all of the difficult decisions you make.”

They’ve almost got it. They’re almost there, they might make it after all, they just need a little more power. It comes from a very unlikely source.

“That’s just our luck, right?” Taako is looking out of the window, and he sees what Davenport sees, that the force chasing them is still just a little too fast. “Finally get used to having these chucklefucks around and now we’re gonna get eaten. Finally find some people worth keeping and boom, apocalypse. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

Everyone is staring again. Taako’s ears twitch lower as he realizes what he’s just said, aloud, at a clearly audible volume and obviously unintentionally. Magnus sniffles a little, clearly moved, and mutters “Aw, dude.”

Lup sneaks up on Taako and hugs him from behind, holding him firmly in place as Magnus and then the others join in. Davenport is the only one who notices the moment when they outrun the Hunger one more time, just barely slipping through its grasp.

(Davenport considers organized bonding activities after that, but he watches his crew make a mess of breakfast together the next morning, and he realizes that isn’t necessary.)

6

It was morning in the village where YOCHEVED lived with her three children, Miriam, Aaron, and Moses.  On this morning, terror filled the streets.  Egyptian soldiers roamed the village, searching for infants and snatching them from their mothers’ arms.  To save Moses’ life, Yocheved knew she must escape unnoticed.

Her heart filled with  f a i t h  and  l o v e, Yocheved carefully made her way from the village to the river.  As MIRIAM and AARON looked on, she knelt down beside the waters of the Nile and placed MOSES in a woven basket.

“things that have actually happened to me” prompts
  • i was really drunk and i saw this really huge, beefy football player sitting on a bench and crying. so i went into the bushes, gave him a flower, and we talked until he felt better. he gave me his number and said “call me if you ever want to vent too.”
  • i was at a straight bar and made friends with this gorgeous girl who i thought was straight. turns out she was a lesbian who was filthy rich and took me back to her place
    • bonus: she called me the next morning to take me out to brunch and take me on a $500 shopping spree as an “early birthday present”
    • sugar mama au?
  • i went on a date with a boy who had plans to take me to dinner and drinks. but he lost his wallet at a pizza place so we just walked around the neighborhood, sat in the park and talked. he was super embarrassed. 
    • bonus: three hours later, a guy fb messages him saying he found his wallet! so we bonded for hours and still got to have a late dinner and drinks!
  • i was at another party and was kindly asked by a fratbro to hold his snapback while he tried to show proper wrestling form using a tree as his opponent. idk if he did it right, but when he was done he gave me the biggest shit eating grin and said “you’re cool man. keep the hat.”
  • during finals my friends and i got so stressed out we just put our speakers on full blast and started dancing on the furniture to “feliz navidad.” it was may. 
  • my roommate and i came back to our dorm and found a huge waterbug on our sink. so we both locked ourselves in the closet and called public safety in a state of panic to come kill the bug. 
    • bonus: they actually came. it took three men to kill it. 
  • my friend decided to throw a beach-themed birthday party and, despite my protests, also decided to give live goldfish out as party favors. so in the midst of the party while everyone was getting drunk and dancing, my roommates and i stole all the fish and hoarded them in our rooms. and that’s how i became the mother to seventeen goldfish. 
  • a boy that i met in my psych lecture asked me out on a date so i said sure. the date took place in his room and it consisted mostly of me sitting on his bed and listening while he talked about himself. at one point, he went into his closet to look for a souvenir he picked up from brussels, so i got up, stole his tequila bottle, and left. 
You Understand Right? (Part 2): What Happened?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Bobby Singer

Length: 1294+ words

TW: Suicide. Depression. Abandonment. Character Death. 

A/N: There was so much interest in continuing this fic! I am so glad you guys enjoyed it, and I really wasn’t expecting this to become a series! Feedback is encouraged!

SERIES MASTERLIST


“Dammit, Y/N! Don’t you dare hang up the phone! What the hell do you mean?!” Dean paced around his motel room, running his fingers through his hair continuously. They had just wrapped up a case in Nebraska, and was planning on visiting Bobby for some down time. Sam reminded his older brother that they haven’t seen Y/N in over several months, and he had been missing her.

“I understand, Dean,” she answered vaguely. Dean’s heart was thumping against his chest, as he tried to understand her message.

“What- What is it, sweetheart? What do you understand?” He started throwing clothes into his duffel bag, knocking on the bathroom door where Sam was currently showering.

“You and Sam need each other… But you don’t need me.” With that, she hung up.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Dean shouted into the phone, knowing that it would be futile. “Fuck.” He hung up his phone, and knocked louder against the bathroom door. “Sam! Get your ass out here.”

Sam opened the door with only his jeans, his face lined with annoyance. “The fuck Dean?”

“We’re leaving NOW!”

“What’s going on? Did you talk to Y/N?” Sam quickly put on his shirt, seeing the gravity of the situation in Dean’s eyes.

“Yea, but she kept saying things,” Dean answered vaguely, shaking his head as he continued to pack their stuff. 

“What did she say?”

“She kept saying how she understands- how she knows that we needed each other, but we don’t need her.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why makes her think that? She knows we love her.”

“I have a bad feeling about this, Sam. C’mon.”

Both brothers made their way to Bobby’s house with tension between them. The four-hour trip only lasting 3 hours with Dean’s driving. Nothing else had been said. Nothing else needed to be said. Not until they find Y/N, hopefully alive. 

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After the success with the mongoose language, Taako, Lup, and Barry were given the unofficial role as crew linguists and translators. Every time the group encountered a world that spoke a different language - which was often enough - the three of them spent the first several months together figuring out the new puzzle. They were impressively successful, even when they had to improvise; one world communicated through clicks and noises that they couldn’t replicate with their voices, and they had to develop a system of claps, finger snaps, and whistles to make comparable sounds. One language was entirely whistles.

The result of these efforts is that Barry, Lup, and Taako are multilingual; they are also the only people on Faerun who can speak these languages fluently.

Kravitz is sitting in the kitchen, watching him cook while doing some paperwork at home instead of at the office. Taako is singing a simple song under his breath without thinking about it, and Kravitz is curious because it’s not familiar. He listens more closely and realizes he doesn’t know any of the words. He doesn’t even know the language.

When Taako and Lup want to talk about something (or someone) without being overheard, they pick any of a selection of different languages and do nothing else to hide what they’re talking about. Barry promises Kravitz that they’re never talking about him; eventually he also starts whispering translations to Kravitz, and Kravitz has to struggle not to laugh.

The whistle language proves useful for reaper business when the three of them have to communicate covertly from a distance. To the untrained ear, they just sound like birds; after they start using the whistles, the group becomes incredibly difficult to ambush and incredibly talented at ambushing in equal measure. (Roswell picks it up, and everyone agrees that they have the best accent.)

Eventually, Taako arranges classes to teach some of the languages at his and Ren’s school. But only some of them - some languages are just for the family.

Taako promises to teach Kravitz because he shouldn’t be left out of conversations; it’s a slow process, but they have so much time. Taako starts with a language made entirely of hand gestures. Sometimes when the morning is too quiet to break the silence or Taako is too lost in his head to say much, he presses a single gesture into Kravitz’ hand.

Your Awards

Pairing: Evan Peters x Reader

Description: One day, you see something crazy on tv leading to cuddles with your favorite superhero.

Warnings: Fluff. So much fluff. Also adorably clumsy Evan. Also insecure Evan?


“EVAN THOMAS PETERS!! GET YOUR FAMOUS BUTT IN HERE!!”

Your boyfriend flew into the room with a wild expression and hair sticking in different directions. “ARE YOU OK? ARE YOU HURT? WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Evan panted as he checked you over, making sure you were alright. “I’m fine you idiot. Look at the tv.”

You happened to be flipping through channels when your boyfriends name read across the screen.

“..and the nominees can be viewed on MTV.com.” You dove for your laptop, threw open the cover and furiously began typing.

“Babe, what’s going on?” Evan was thoroughly confused by the way you were acting. “SHH!” You finished typing and started to busy yourself with clicks and scrolls. You seemed to find what you were looking for and practically threw the laptop in poor Evan’s face.

“Look! Look! Oh my gosh, look!!” Evan caught the computer midair and scrutinized the view that was presented on the screen. The page read, ‘MTV Movie Awards. Best Comedic Performance Nominees.’ “No. You’re messing with me.” You laughed at Evan’s expression. “This is all very serious Ev. Oh and go back a page.”

He did as told and it basically said the same but with Action Performance. “TWO?! Holy crap!” “Babe this is so huge for you. Being nominated for two big awards? SO PROUD!!”

Evan suddenly became quiet. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. Extremely confused and a little worried, you asked, “what’s eating you, babe?”

He slowly set the laptop down and stepped over to where you were sitting on the couch. “You,” he said.

“Me?” you asked. “You. These are your awards.”

By now you were very worried and reached to check his temperature. He was probably just overexcited.

“Babe. I don’t believe you’re thinking straight. What’s up?” “This is your award. You’re the one who got me out of bed every morning even if I was being an arse about it. You made sure I was fed and hydrated so I could function at work. You supported me every night I felt I wasn’t doing Peter justice. You were.. are my rock. I wouldn’t even have got the audition if you hadn’t pushed me to. So yeah, these are your awards.”

The room fell into a calm aura, setting your emotions skyrocketing. “Sure I helped you, but that’s just it. I helped. Who’s the one who read scripts until three in the morning making sure he wouldn’t screw up his lines? Who went to the gym even though he hated it there so his character would look the part? Who acted the same scene for sixteen plus hours one day and was just as excited to do the same thing the next day? That was all you, baby. So if you want to call the awards partially mine, I’ll let you, but they are yours and you did everything to deserve them. You are a great actor and your coworkers tell me they’ve learned a lot from you. I’m so proud, baby. I’m so proud.”

Evan was practically in tears now. He always questioned his acting ability yet you always could reassure him. He could never tell you how thankful he was for you. He just couldn’t do it without you by his side. Someday he’d ask you to be with him forever. Just not yet.

“Thank you, baby girl. I love you so much.” “I love you too my Quicksilver.”

That day ended in cuddles watching his X-Men movies.

Ghost // Jughead Jones

Summary: Jughead’s been neglecting his girlfriend in favour of the case leaving no time to see each other. It slowly gets worse until things escalate into a fight when you came home late when he’s been waiting to apologize.

Characters: Reader x Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, and Veronica Lodge (mentioned).

Words: 2888

Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters involved. In this, like every other Riverdale fic I do, Jughead is NOT asexual in this.

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, neglect, and smut.

Author: Caitsy

A/N: Finals are finally over and I’m free to write again!

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Originally posted by juggiehead

It was a tough week to say the least with your boyfriend Jughead completely skipping the study dates you set. He had asked you out not even a full month ago in a sweet but very Jughead way that you appreciated dearly. Your teacher had put you together for a project that you were steadily doing the project solo and it was a lot of work to do.

You couldn’t believe how you barely saw him anymore with his obsession over the murder of Jason Blossom and he was spending it with Betty Cooper. That made you a little uncomfortable given she was a basket case and obviously mentally unbalanced from the Chuck Clayton incident. Jughead and Betty had gotten together earlier in the year for a month tops before it become glaringly problematic on how different they were. It was insane how little you saw each other when he lived with you. You were emancipated from your parents a year and a half ago and now you could see how it wasn’t that smart to start a relationship with someone you live with. He just didn’t care about you like you cared for him.

To: Jughead👑
From: Y/N
~When are you coming be here?~

To: Y/N
From: Jughead👑
~Can’t make it sorry, info about Jason came up~

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Married Bliss RP Starters

“Honey, I packed you a lunch.”

“Sweetheart you tried to pack  me a sandwich with gummy bears I think it’s time for a break.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in days. Let me watch the kids. You need some rest.”

“Can you please watch them I need a good cry and a nap.”

“You have been on diaper duty since the babies been born let me get it this time.”

“Can you please change their diaper I’m trying to make dinner.”

“I’m sorry…I burnt dinner…”

“Wow…that looks wonderful… No! Hey don’t cry! Please, it looks wonderful! See I’m eating it right now.”

“Honey our little angel just flushed his/her toy down the toilet!”

“My ring! My ring is missing!”

“Honey, where is your wedding ring?”

“Oh no! My ring fell down the drain!”

“Oh…it’s everywhere…I didn’t realize babies…went so much…”

“It’s just a diaper…wait you don’t look so well…”

“I can’t change their diaper without you getting sick It’s a little frustrating.”

“I’m going to be late for dinner.”

“I made us our first dinner in our new place. I hope you like it.”

“Wow it looks wonderful. I didn’t know I was with a seasoned chef.”

“Do I look fat?”

“Honey you’re pregnant that’s all baby. You look beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful no matter what size you are please remember that.”

“I’m so lucky to be married to someone so beautiful.”

“Come to bed, It’s getting late.”

“Why are you cooking? It’s three in the morning.”

“We’re going to make beautiful kids.”

“I can’t wait to see their little face. I’m really excited to see them.”

“It’s your turn to feed him/her.”

“I’ve got it, go back to sleep.”

“Wake up, the baby needs you.”

“Mmm she/he has that fresh baby smell.”

“I know you’re working but you forgot your lunch.”

“I thought I’d stop by so we could have lunch together.”

“They drew all over the walls…we just painted them too…”

“I thought we’d visit you on your break.”

“Let’s go to the park together. It will be good for all of us to get some fresh air.”

“Every day is a blessing with you.”

“Who thought it was a good idea to get them such a noisy toy.”

“I have watched the same kids show all day for a week straight I’m going to snap.”

“Do babies really like this stuff?”

“Wait don’t drink that! That’s for the baby.”

“I think we should get another cat/dog.”

“I love you, but we have too many animals. Please don’t bring anymore home.”

“Did your coat just meow/bark?”

“Surprise! I got us a cat/dog!”

“Please don’t be mad…I couldn’t resist its little face.”

“You’re going to be a father.”

“He/She is kicking!”

“What if we’re not good parents?”

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother/father.”

“Don’t worry about it you’re pregnant. It’s okay to be emotional.”

“I got everything on the list. Are you really craving pickles and peanut butter? Our baby is weird.”

“We are not naming our baby (insert ridiculous name here) end of discussion.”

“Can you take the trash out, please.”

“I’ll make dinner tonight.”

“How was work?”

“I missed you like crazy. I wish I didn’t have to work all day.”

“Will you please stop making that face. It’s making the baby cry.”

“No you can’t steal their dog/cat!”

“It’s okay sometimes these things take time. We’ll just keep trying until something happens.”

“I made you some soup. I hope you get to feeling better soon.”

“Honey, you’re burning up.”

“I think the baby is sick.”

“You worry too much. It’s just a scratch.”

“Please don’t ever leave me. I almost burned the house down trying to cook dinner.”

“He/She has your eyes.”

“He/She is so beautiful. I can’t believe he’s/she’s finally here.
“I’m so afraid i’m going to drop him/her.”

“He/She is so tiny. I can’t believe how small he/she is.”

“He/She has a tight grip.”

“Don’t ask…you don’t want to know.”

“Honey, why is our child running around naked?”

“How much sugar did you give him/her?”

“Are you sure you’re okay being alone with the them?”

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Don’t give the kids sugar while i’m gone.”

“I swear sometimes I have two children instead of one.”

“Your hormones are just a little crazy. You cried today because you saw a cat on the tv.”

“I know it’s three in the morning but could you please get me some chocolate milk. Oh and some chocolate chip cookies, please.”

“I love you but your cravings are killing me.”

“I’ll rub your feet. I know they’re getting swollen from the pregnancy.”

“We should look into adopting.”

“It’s okay, we can always adopt.”

“Our adoption papers got accepted! We’re going to be parents!”

“We get to bring her/him home tomorrow i’m so excited.” 

“What if they don’t accept us? What if we can’t adopt?”

“We’re going to be amazing parents. I know they’ll see that. Please don’t worry. I know the adoption papers will go through.”

“Have you heard anything yet about the adoption papers? Have we been approved?”

“The kids drew all over my work papers….I hope they’ll accept stick figure drawings.”

“Honey, you put the babies clothes on backwards.”

  • Davey: *at the door of the lodging house, at the bell, approximately three weeks after the strike* Good morning, Race. Drink water today. Here, Specs, my mom made you a sandwich. Crutchie, I know it's going to rain already, make sure you and the younger boys get back here before it does. Finch! No! It's too early for flying! Les get back here. Romeo, no flirting with people unless it's to sell papers until you're done selling papers. Buttons, tie your shoe, you're going to get hurt. Jack! Eat something today! No more skipping lunch because you get distracted!
  • The Rest of the Newsies in Unison: Yes, Mom. Thanks, Mom. Love you, Mom.