i should have known that he was going to enter like that

The Arkansas Sleep Experiments

by reddit user nazisharks

To Those Who Sleep

This happened a few years ago. You may have heard rumors if you’re on campus. Some even circulated online. Nobody knew what really happened. Because I’m the only one who knows and I kept quiet. For a multitude of reasons. None of them matter now. Here’s what really happened.

The four of us were handpicked for this experiment by Prof. Richardson because we’d all studied under him, worked under him, and, as much as anyone can, earned his confidence.

He said this one was different. We had to keep it quiet. He wanted to keep details to a minimum. All he would tell us before going in was that he required a month of our lives and that if he succeeded sleep would never again be a necessity.

Keep reading

Why I Think Momo is Kickass and You should too

So with the emergence of the anime becoming more and more popular, of course the fan base is growing and growing, I would even say to heights like seen in Fairy Tail, Naruto, etc.

 However, with the series getting more popular, you are stuck with more….negative opinions about the characters that in my mind are sometimes just not necessary.

 Now, this blog is normally Ochako and Kacchako and I intend to mostly keep it that way but lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of negative posts towards Momo and frankly, I’m heavily displeased by this, especially since she’s one of the most well portrayed girls in the series and it’s really heartbreaking on my end to see posts that essentially dismiss her for more shallow reasons that don’t need to be here.

 I mean to start this off, are we going to simply forget that she came into UA on a recommendation and was a student that made even All Might shook when asked why Iida was the winner of the exercise

or how, even though the class didn’t know her, she was still voted to be Assistant Class President? 

 or how she was able to act calm and rational during the USJ villain fight?

 or how she still managed to get the top grade in the midterm exams and didn’t get it to her head but actually acted BENEVOTELY and helped her classmates who asked her for help?

or how it was HER plan that got Todoroki and her to win the exam that they were fighting in?

 But ya know, because of her BODY, we’re going to ignore that right? We’re going to ignore how amazing and how smart she is simply because of her body.  

I won’t lie guys, I’ve heard people complaining about her quirk and even saying how bad her quirk is designed when it’s like??? It actually makes a lot of sense why it’s like that since she does create large objects like shields, spears, A FREAKING CANON, like it makes sense for her to need to use fat call throughout her body to be able to achieve that look.

Which brings me to talk about her costume. Oh boy, this is the one that when I first entered the fandom, no one really said anything but now that the series is more popular, everyone has become experts on body proportions and quirk designs and apparently fashion design since her costume isn’t good enough for her.

I mean look at the costume design that Horikoshi put in for her and how he planned that all out for her

At some point, yes I understand, Horikoshi is a pervert, sometimes his intentions aren’t the best, I get that. But consider this, even though he had the ability to make Ochako’s and Tsuyu’s costumes completely perverted, he chose against that. He had the perfect opportunity to indulge in that yet he didn’t. What I love about Horikoshi is that he thinks about the practicality of the quirks and designs the costumes based on that as well taking into consideration the character’s personality and what they would want.

 So guys, at some point, reality check moment: Momo is comfortable with her body enough to wear a costume that she deemed necessary for the usage of her quirk. And she chose that design for that outfit and has not said a word about this entire series. She even had an opportunity to create it to be more closed and she chose not to. MOMO CHOSE HER OUTFIT AND VIEWS IT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER HERO WORK.

 In this moment too, I would like to share what even Midnight said during Episode 34 at the very beginning.

So another reality check: The only people who are saying it’s sexual are the people who are sexualizing her to begin with. Instead of viewing it as more of a practical thing that is designed for her quirk (which involves utilizing her fat cells and creating stuff through her skin), people begin to view as sexual and are condemning her for having a revealing costume. Which, to me personally, I find ironic since tumblr is filled with campaigns of free the nipple and the stopping of sexualization of breasts and female anatomy, yet look what’s happening here. People are taking her costume and saying she’s being sexualized for choosing a design that would give her optimal openness to use her quirk.

 I mean look at how she used it in the Aizawa fight

 Having that navel cavity helped her out immensely during this fight and she was able to create the alloy material in a much faster way with having access to areas where most of her fat is stored.

Which, I also heard people commenting on how Momo’s body doesn’t make sense and how skinny she is in comparison to her boobs (which I’ve seen that in real life, it’s not uncommon), but if you see in this spread

She actually isn’t the skinniest person in the world. Keep in mind that while she does use her fat cells to make stuff, she does also consume A LOT OF FOOD TOO to keep up with the level of activity too so she does get chubby sometimes so it’s a wrong assumption to think she has this INCRDIBLY PERFECT BODY WITH NO FAT when she does! Which only makes it only more natural and real!

Honestly, her entire arc in the beginning of the manga (or at least up into this exam point) has been so powerful, so realistic, and so amazingly well done.

I mean to consider, very similarly to Bakugou, while we haven’t gotten much of her backstory, given how she behaved in Season 1, we can have a somewhat assumption that she came from a great home and was well praised for her quirk. Obviously, her quirk isn’t one with a talent, she had to work immensely for it, but she must have been placed into situations where she was elevated and praised for how powerful her quirk is (like she was put in situations where she was able to be able to use her quirk to the fullest and not have much backfired).

Even Aizawa says this during their fight

Which does imply this isn’t a constant state she’s always been in, it’s one that has been gained since the sports festival (hence why the arguments that she should be shouldn’t be self confident are wrong). 

Yet, with coming to UA and being in a hero course, after participating in the festival, well she starts to crumble and kind of doubt her abilities against the others

 Like it starts off with her not getting a high ranking on the race

 Then she mentioned the issue with the cavalry battle later on but definitely the heavy hitter for Momo was her fight with Tokoyami where she was left in shambles since she wasn’t able to make much on an impact on the fight itself (which this was amplified more in the anime than the manga itself).

Originally posted by fadingsoulss

Thus really bringing down her confidence. And now a lot of people screamed about how misogynist her hero training was and how demeaning it was which leads to 2 issues that some people forget about.

 1.     That there are multiple sides to being a hero. It’s not always the cookie cutter “fight villains, rescue people, rinse and repeat”. Even famous people in our society, even though their job is to act/sing/etc, they still go out and do publicity work and that’s what they do. It’s a part of being well known and using your abilities outside of the field you are in.

2.     This was all part of Momo developing. This was just another way to bring Momo down a couple more notches. It’s a bit cruel and hard but this was a way for Horikoshi to get her  out of her mindset and be exposed to something where her confidence could be lowered. Guaranteed if she was put into an actual hero training internship, she wouldn’t have been lowered as much as she did.

 Which could lead the argument that it wasn’t necessary to have any of that stuff happen to her but consider, would she have gotten in this state if she didn’t have those things happen and accumulate?

And would she have gotten her confidence back from Todoroki/Aizawa and execute an amazing plan without that encouragement from those moments?

Probably not.

 Ok this post is beginning to get way to long so I’m going to stop here before I go on and on and on about Momo. As much as Ochako is my best girl and I will forever sacrifice myself to her, even I have to admit Momo is utterly amazing and I only talked about what happened in the first 65 chapters. I didn’t even brush on how amazing she was during the invasion of the villains or how she managed to be a huge help in the rescue of Bakugou or even how kickass she was during the license exam (which she helped my princess Ochako and that pleased me so much). Momo is just more than the simple sexual object people are complaining her to be as, she’s an incredibly smart and amazing woman and Horikoshi put so much thought into her, more than what any of us could ever imagine. I am truly excited to see more of what she can do in the future and I hope she gains more fans since she truly deserves it.

 TLDR; MOMO IS AMAZING, SEND HER LOVE YALL

Draco Malfoy Crush Headcanons

Masterlist


Gryffindor Reader


- Omg people would totally ship you two as the love/hate relationship and/or the sexual tension relationship

- Cliche, but start off as total rivals

- If you played Quiddich you would make it your top priority to always distract Draco

- Shameless teasing tho??

- “Hey Malfoy, nice ass”

- ///blushblushblush “Excuse me?!”

- “You heard me!”

- Shameless catcalling purposely in front of everyone including Snape and his friends

- But one day you are genuinely upset and on the verge of tears but you, being stubborn, refuse to cry in front of him

- “Didn’t you hear me?! Go away, Malfoy!”

- Offers you a handkerchief, an awkward hug, and sweets

- A messy, tear stained and shaky smile

- “Since when did you go soft, Malfoy?”

- “I should be asking you the same thing, (Last Name)

- So obviously you two are pretty close friends now

- He can basically trust you with anything so he comes to you when he has problems

- But both of you are extremely stubborn so usually the other person will have to confront the other about their notice in their change of attitude

- You having to confess first

- He’d totally try to confess but end up getting too nervous and backing away

- “Hey Malfoy, you be interested in going to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

-//smirksmirk “You wouldn’t be asking me out, would you?”

-”Pffftttt as if????”

- You totally were asking him out

- He said yes in the most teasing way with a signature smirk

- You were very proud of your relationship because there was no denying Draco was just hot

- But like he was a complete sweetie

- If you were sick he would always freak out and if he saw you were struggling in classes he would discreetly leave you his study notes in the most unexpected ways like “accidentally” mixing his 100% amazing notes up with your slightly pitiful ones

- And ugh he was just an amazing partner to have???


Slytherin Reader


- Not gonna lie you two were already friends

- Like you would gang up on people you shared a hatred for always

- Sometimes people would even avoid you two in fear of being completely roasted™

- It was like “o shit here they come rUN BITCH RUN N Y O O M

 - But no seriously you two would diss whoever and whatever if they got on your nerves 

- And obviously he would ask you to the Yule Ball

-“You’re asking me, Malfoy…?”

-“Of course. Who else would I ask? Parkinson?”

- And like whenever the two of you would enter the ballroom all eyes would immediately just turn to you two

- Because lets face it, the two of you could stop traffic 

- You would both sneak off after some stuff had died down in a dark and empty corridor 

- The two of you would just be chatting by a windowsill whenever out of nowhere he would just kiss you

- You were like talking about class or something and he would just press his lips against yours

- And you just melted

- Because you could feel how shaky and nervous he was

- But he was so gentle

- And omg you cuties

- Tbh no one is surprised when you enter the Great Hall hand in hand

- Blaise catcalls

- Pansy snarls

- Crabbe and Goyle don’t really care 

- But you and Draco are too absorbed in the little world that has formed around you to notice

Ravenclaw Reader

 

- The only reason he knew you is because you were the person who always just happened to score one or two points above him on every. single. assignment.

- Like he would be bragging in class about his grades when the teacher would speak up like 

-“Obviously I have the best test scores in here but that’s not surprise—“

-“aCTUALLY Mister Malfoy, Miss (Name) (Last Name) scored just one point above you…! So you’re wrong lol”

- And he would just be appalled

- And then he would basically track you down and discreetly ask about studying techniques

- And you’d just be like “So Mister “I scored one less point than someone” wants to hear about my studying techniques? I don’t think so, Second Place.”

- He’d do an unintentional dramatic gasp and like press an offended hand to his chest

- And you’d just walk away with the most smug smirk ever

- After that incident he’d badmouth you almost as much as he badmouthed Potter

- Almost

- Because after doing some “researching” (snooping) and learning more about you from observations and sources he’d find out that you’re actually really intriguing 

- And he might have had the smallest, tiniest crush on you

 - But he’d deny it of course

-the little bastard

- But like he actually finds the small things you do entertaining

- For example, he might have ‘accidentally’ showed up at the library every day you did and just happen to notice how you would play with your hair or doodle whenever you studied 

- One day, he discreetly bumped into you playing it off as he was too busy reading

- You decided not to tell him that his book was upside down

-“Oh, watch where you’re going… Anyways, if you’re here, mind helping me with this subject?”

-“Draco Malfoy? Asking for help? Who would have known?”

- But you did end up helping him 

- And after taking multiple deep breaths, he finally got the courage to ask you out

- And you told him “maybe if you can score higher than me on the next potions test”

-gUESS WHO STUDIED THEIR ASS OFF

-MALFOY DID


 Hufflepuff Reader

 - Tbh he had no idea who you were

 - And honestly he didn’t even care

- But that all changed when this happened

- So you were focusing on anything other than him while walking down the hallway,

- And accidentally you bump into him

- All of your stuff falls to the ground

- And he just shoots you a nasty glare and continues walking

- You are simply picking up your things when you hear “Lousy Hufflepuffs. Can’t do anything. No wonder that Diggory died. As if a Hufflepuff is brave enough to enter that tournament and come out alive.”

- You stop dead in your tracks. “What did you just say..?”

- He turns back to you with a scoff 

- You run up in front of him and get in his face. “What the hell did you just say?! Tell me!” 

-”I said that all of you Hufflepuffs are weak and pathetic. Diggory never had what it took to enter the-”

- But he was cut off by a punch to the face. His nose was bleeding

-”Don’t you ever start saying shit like that when you, yourself, will never be better than Cedric! At his worst, he is still better than you at your best. Maybe you should think about this before speaking unless you want to be bloodied by a “lousy” Hufflepuff again.”

- He is left in sh o ck

- From then on, whenever he sees you his entire face goes red and he hides himself

- Because maybe your courage and great left hook made him form a crush

-somehow

- He leaves a note on your desk which is from “your secret admirer” (cause he’s cheesy like that) telling you to meet him outside at night

- Your first reaction when you see him is not a positive one

- He explains that he only said that about Diggory is because he tries to look impressive in front of his friends (Which isn’t a lie) and that he sincerely apologizes and mourns for your House’s loss

- After some coaxing, he is forgiven 

- You sit and chat for a while and you are pleasantly surprised when you find out he’s actually pretty cool

-At the end of the night, he asks you on a date

- And with a hesitant yet bright smile, you accept

10

The Kings and Queens of Winter (original)



Their father once said that in winter, they must protect one another, keep each other warm, share their strengths.  So they shared their strength, and their crown as well.



Brandon, King of Winter
↳ King Brandon was King Robb’s true heir, and Lord Eddard’s before him.  When the crown passed to him, it was he that bade his siblings share its responsibilities with him.  Though some of the lords bannermen of House Stark thought this meant that Bran–a cripple since the age of seven–was weak, they soon learned the strength of the decision.  A true king of winter, Brandon said, is one who prepares for winter, not just endures it.  And the best way to prepare for winter was to make sure that all needs were being met, and thus that each was given the full attention of a member of his house.  (It is also said that when there was strife in the North, King Brandon knew about it long before word officially reached Winterfell.  He was blessed by the Old Gods, it was said, with magical sight and hearing, and understood the language of brooks and trees.)

Arya, Queen of Justice
↳ Queen Arya took it upon herself to protect the smallfolk.  She had seen, she told her brothers and sister, their suffering and lived it during the War of the Five Kings, when Lannister and Stark warred in the riverlands.  She had seen what evil men could do when left unchecked and found such evil intolerable in the lands of her blood.  When justice was needed, it was Queen Arya who rode out from Winterfell.  Though songs are sung of Queen Arya’s justice, it was known that her mercy was far more powerful.  Justice, she had been known to say, was nothing without mercy–true mercy, the gift of mercy.  Though far more celebrated for lives she took in the name of her house, her justice was not merely the enforcement of the law but the weighing of it.  If she heard a man’s final words and thought he did not deserve to die, he did not die by her blade.  (Though there were songs sung of Arya’s justice and her mercy, the more celebrated songs are ones of magic.  The most creative of these songs are ones that say she wears the skin of a direwolf and heads a pack of thousands.  Such songs are songs, however, and should never be misconstrued for fact.)

Jon, King of Peace
↳ King Jon was not a Stark, though when the doom of the world was nigh, the lords of the North crowned him king.  He gave his crown to Brandon, Lord Eddard’s trueborn son, when the war ended, and King Brandon shared it with him in return, calling him brother though they shared neither father nor mother.  King Jon fought for the living, and fought for peace, and though he was known as the king in the north who led armies in battle, he knew success by how infrequently he was called upon to fight.  When Jon was home, the realm knew peace; when he rode forth, it would know peace again soon.  (There were whispers that King Jon could not be killed for he had no beating heart inside his body.  Any wound he took remained with him until the time of his passing.  Such tales, however, could not possibly be true for what man can live without a heart?  And while it is known that King Jon rode a dragon into battle at least once in defense of the North, that he had no heartbeat could not possibly be true.)

Sansa, Queen of Prosperity
↳ Queen Sansa learned coin from Lord Baelish, who helped her return to the North following a period of captivity in King’s Landing.  If Lord Baelish was one of the more clever masters of coin that the realm had ever seen, under his tutelage, Queen Sansa came to know the power of gold and markets–vital to the recovery of the North following a long war and a longer winter.  Queen Sansa knew when sternness was required, but the realm knew her to have a generous hand, and through her guidance the North came to know prosperity again.  Artisans flocked to Winterfell, for Queen Sansa dearly loved music, and bakers competed in making the best lemon cakes for her.  (Rumors plagued Queen Sansa for most of her days that Lord Baelish’s untimely demise–an illness that tore through him and slew him in his sleep–was wrought from poison she slipped into his glass of Arbor Gold.  Rumors of poison have followed Queen Sansa ever since the death of Joffrey Baratheon, and thus cannot be trusted to hold any merit at all.)

Rickon, King of Reaping
↳ King Rickon was the youngest of his siblings, and barely more than a babe when his parents died.  He lived his early days among the people, and in fear that Boltons or Greyjoys would find him and slay him in his sleep.  Though many believed that he had died at Theon Greyjoy’s hands when the Prince of Salt and Rock took Winterfell, it soon became known that Greyjoy had slain two farmer’s boys and passed them off for the young princes of Winterfell.  Though King Rickon was likely too young to remember such an event, he was known to mention it often in his work, for he turned himself to the reaping every autumn when the harvest moon rose, making sure that no farmer felt unable to tend to his fields, and that the North was prepared for the oncoming winter.  (As with his brothers and sisters, there are flights of fancy that have entered the realm of myth for King Rickon as well.  If Queen Arya headed a pack of a thousand wolves, it is said that King Rickon wore the skin of a great black wolf that would use his size and strength to protect the smallfolk from smaller packs who would set their eyes on livestock.  Such tales are merely tales, though, for no man can wear the skin of a wolf.)

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

Liz’s Party | Peter Parker

Summary: Spiderman shows up at Liz’s party to impress everyone, mostly the reader.

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Type: Alternative scene (what would have happened if Peter showed up at Liz’s party as Spiderman to impress the reader…)

MASTERLIST

Part Two Here / Part Three Here / Part Four Here / Part Five Here / Part Six Here


It was gym class and Ned was currently holding down Peter’s feet as he did sit ups. Ned had recently found out that Peter was Spiderman and was constantly asking his best friend questions about being an Avenger.

“Hey,” Ned piped up. “Can I be your guy in the chair?”

“What?” Peter whispered, not wanting to be too loud.

“You know there is a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go. Like if you were stuck or lost somewhere, I could tell you where to go because there would be screens and monitors around me. And I could be your guy in the chair,” Ned pleaded.

“Ned, I don’t need a guy in the chair,” Peter insisted.

“Looking good, Parker,” the gym teacher said. Peter paused momentarily before continuing with his sit ups.

“You see for me it would be…f*ck Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill Hulk,” Betty Brant said from the bleachers.

“What about the Spiderman,” Y/N voice piped up, making all her friends on the bleachers look at her.

“It’s just Spiderman,” Liz shrugged.

“Did you guys see that big security cam on youtube? He fought off four guys!” Peter and Ned watched Y/N as she practically praised the Spiderman.

“Oh my gosh. She’s crushing on Spiderman,” Betty joked.

“No way!”

“Kinda,” Y/N shrugged, a blush creeping up onto her face. Peter glance at Ned then turned his attention back to the group.

“Ugh. Gross. He’s probably like thirty,” Betty said.

“You don’t even know what he looks like. What if he is like seriously burned?” Liz suggested.

“I wouldn’t care. I would still love him for the person he is on the inside,” Y/N replied. “He’s a good man and its obvious he really cares about this city. That is something I really admire about him.”

“Peter knows Spiderman,” Ned blurted. Peter’s mouth dropped open and he turned towards Ned. Everyone in the room went silent and all their eyes were on Peter, even Y/N’s.

“Uh, no I don’t,” Peter said, scrambling to his feet. “No. I-I mean.” He turned and faced Y/N and her friends.

“They’re friends,” Ned added with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, like coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash teased, now walking over to his rival.

“I-I’ve met him. Yeah, a couple times but its uh…through the Stark internship,” Peter clarified, briefly looking at Y/N. Flash seemed to be enjoying this for a smirk was evident on his face. “Mhmm. Yeah but I am not really suppose to talk about it,” Peter turned around, glaring at Ned.

“Well, that’s awesome,” Flash replied. “Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz’s party.”

“Yeah, I am having people over tonight. You are more than welcome to come,” she smiled.

“You’re having a party,” Ned asked.

“W-Will you be there Y/N?” Peter stuttered. Y/N looked up and nodded her head.

“Y-Yeah. I’m going.” Peter smiled shyly at her.

“Yeah, its gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spiderman,” Flash insisted.

“Flash,” Y/N warned. “Leave him alone.”

“Ah come on. He’ll be there,” Flash spat. The bell rang and everyone stood to their feet and made their way towards the door. Peter watched Y/N stand, the two of them briefly met each other’s gaze before she broke it. She walked with her friends out of the gym, Peter’s eyes following her form.

Peter groaned in annoyance and look at Ned. “What are you doing?!?”

“Helping you out,” Ned said. “Did you not hear her? Y/N has a crush on you!” Peter opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. He couldn’t believe his childhood crush had a crush on him…well Spiderman. “Dude, you are an avenger!” Ned said, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. “If any one of us has a chance with Y/N, its you.” 

Y/N and Peter had known each other since grade school and had become pretty close friends. Peter developed his first crush on her but never had the guts to tell her. And here she was, years later, having a crush on Peter’s alter ego. It almost didn’t feel real to Peter. Was he hearing this right? Was she really in love with Spiderman?


That night, May drove Peter and Ned over to Liz’s house. May stopped the car in front of the house and nodded her head. “A house party in the suburbs! Oh, I remember these. I’m kinda jealous.”

“It will be a night to remember,” Ned said with excitement.

“Ned, some hats wear men. You wear that hat!”

“Yeah, it gives me confidence,” Ned grinned.

“This is a mistake,” Peter said, suddenly feeling nauseous. “Hey, let’s just go home.”

“Oh Peter. I know. I know its really hard trying to fit in with all the changes your body is going through,” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s flowering you.” Peter bit his lip and laughed slightly. 

“Okay, yeah. I’m gonna go,” Peter said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He exited the car, Ned following his actions.

“Peter,” May called. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Peter smiled.

“Bye May,” Ned waved as the car drove away. The two of them turned around and began walking up the sidewalk, towards the house. “Dude, you have the suit, right?” Peter lifted up his arm sleeve and showed him the web shooters and red costume. “This is going to change our lives!”

They entered the house, music blasting in the background and kids walking around with drinks in their hands. “DJ Flash,” the announcer said, making both the boys look over at the Flash operating the music.

“Okay, we are gonna have Spiderman swing in, say you guys are tight and then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro hugs,” Ned whispered to his best friend.

“Can’t believe you guys are at this lame party,” Michelle said, standing next to them.

“But…you’re here too,” Ned insisted.

“Am I?” Michelle walked off.

“Oh my–. Hey guys,” Y/N said. “Cool hat, Ned.”

“Hey Y/N,” Ned said with a silly grin on his face.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter’s voice squeaked.

“I’m glad you guys came,” she smiled. “There is pizza and drinks so go and help yourself.”

“Wow, what a great party,” Peter added with a smile.

“I barely did anything. It was all Liz.” Someone called her name and she turned her head. “Oh, I should go.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. She walked away and Ned said goodbye to her.

“Dude! What are you doing? She’s here, spider it up!”

“No. No. No. I can’t. I cannot do this. Spiderman is not a party trick,” Peter said. “Look, I am just gonna…be myself.”

“Peter, no one wants that.”

“Dude,” Peter said hurtfully. He turned to walk away when Flash called out his name on the microphone.

“Parker! What’s up? Hey, where is your pal, Spiderman? Let me guess, in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?” The crowd laughed and Peter clenched his fists in anger. “That’s not Spiderman. That’s just Ned in a red shirt.”


Somehow, through peer pressure, Peter found himself outside. He disregarded his regular clothing and underneath it was his red and blue Spiderman outfit. He knelt down on the rooftop and gazed down at Liz’s house.

“Hey! What’s up? I am Spiderman,” he whispered to himself as he took off his shirt. “Just thought I would swing by, say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh hey, what’s up Ned? Where is Peter anyways?”

He sighed, looking down at Ned who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Peter shook his head.

“I can’t do this.” Peter noticed Y/N walk up to Ned and ask him a question. In response, Ned shrugged and she nodded her head before walking away. As soon as she was out of sight, Ned yanked out his phone and dialed Peter’s number. Peter answered it immediately.

“Peter! Where are you? Y/N’s asking for you,” Ned said, desperately.

“I will be there in a second.”

Peter hung up and gazed down at Y/N’s concerned face. She fiddled with her fingers and her eyes continued to wander around the room. Peter put his mask on and stood to his feet before swinging down.

“Oh sorry,” he apologized to some people. Everyone turned around to look at him and all mouth’s dropped open. He maneuvered his way through the crowd of people until he made it inside. “Sorry, I just gotta…find my friend Peter.”

“Spiderman?” He turned around at the sound of Y/N’s voice. His robotic eyes dilated and his head moved up and down her body. His actions did not go unnoticed by Y/N. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Peter called me and asked if I could show.”

“No way,” Flash said in disbelief. He pushed past the crowd and soon came face to face with the superhero himself. “You’re really him? Are you really friends with Peter Parker?”

Peter turned his eyes towards Y/N who stood behind Flash. He pushed past his rival and approached her. “Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“What’s your name? Wait. No. Let me guess. Y/N, right?”

“Y-Yeah, how did you know?”

“Peter talks a lot about you,” Spiderman said.

“H-He does?” 

“Spiderman!” He turned around and faced Ned. “Hi! It’s Ned. Remember me?”

“Yeah I do. How are you doing?” He gave Ned his fist bump and the boy nearly collapsed when realizing he was going to be popular for the rest of his life.

“Fine. I’ll let you get back to Y/N. She’s a big fan,” Ned laughed. Peter turned his head and eyed Y/N.

“Really?” He teased and she looked down at her feet. 

“Well, kinda,” she replied, blushing like crazy. 

“Well, I should get going. New York isn’t going to save itself,” Spiderman said.

“Yeah,” Y/N added, dreamily admiring the superhero.

“It was nice to finally meet you. Oh and tell Peter that Mr Stark needs him at the internship at four thirty tomorrow,” Spiderman added. “Can you do that for me?”

Y/N nodded and Spiderman winked at her with his big eyes, making her smile. Spiderman used his web shooters and swung away from the party. He made his way back up to the rooftop when everyone had lost interest and began to change back into his normal clothes.

“I can’t believe he actually showed,” Flash said to Y/N.

“What’s the matter, Flash? Jealous of Peter or of Spiderman?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Katara’s Time

It had been a long time since Katara had thought about the ancient fortuneteller that she and her husband had met nearly a century ago. But she had never forgotten the words Aunt Wu had said;

You will have your third great-grandchild before quietly passing away in your sleep.


At fourteen she hadn’t given these words much thought but now at the age of one-hundred it was all she could think about.

She was the last of her friends to go. Her brother had been the first. It had been a warriors death like he had always wanted, protecting Republic City from its first invasion that had become a common occurrence to Katara over years. She didn’t think she could survive the pain that his death had brought her, until she experienced it four more times.

Next was her husband. After saving the world, building a city and raising their three children it was easy to forget that the avatar wasn’t invincible, especially since he’d brought up Bumi and lived to tell the tale. But although scars fade they never truly go away including ones forever scorched into his back that she healed herself. It’s better this way he told her as injuries that no child should ever have obtained finally caught up to his health. He died happily knowing that this time he was leaving the world in time of peace instead of a war. It had been over thirty years since his death yet she missed him more with everyday. Often she would find herself looking at the new avatar, smiling to herself when she recognised her late husband inside her.

Toph was too stubborn to die. She fought to the last agonising breathe but eventually the calling of the spirits was too much for even her and she passed away slowly, her two daughters by her side with family feuds long forgotten. At her funeral Katara was finally allowed to tell her niece the secret shed kept hidden for nearly sixty years.

Last to leave was The Fire Lord himself. At ninety-eight he had been the last person alive during the one hundred year war, besides herself. Except for herself there was now no one left to tell the story of their adventures first hand. They were now officially part of history. She could still remember the day he invaded her village. It was impossible to think back then that somehow this man would become one of her greatest friends. The two had spent a lot of time together in their later years, both needing friendship after the deaths of their spouses. It difficult to imagine life without The Fire Lord but she knew that Izumi would do him proud.

————————————

“It’s a girl!” Katara cried happily as she birthed her eldest grandchild’s youngest daughter. Jinora smiled an exhausted but joyous smile as she was passed life she helped create. Kai wrapped his arms gently around his wife while their other two children Pema II and Gyatso peered curiously at their new baby sister.

Suddenly the small room became crowded with people as everyone that Katara had grown to call family entered. Her son and his wife rushed towards their daughter with loving open arms, frantically checking that both she and her baby were alright. Tenzin placed a comforting hand on Kai’s shoulder having finally forgiving him getting his daughter pregnant at eighteen making his son-in-law glow with acceptance. Ikki, Meelo and Rohan came next, their tattoos shining brightly against their skin. They gave her encouraging looks before moving aside to let their honorary older sister see. Korra bended the elements in a small ring around the baby’s head making her eyes widen in awe. Asami laughed gently at her wife’s antics whilst their son Hiroshi stood unimpressed besides them. Suyin and her children entered next having officially become part of the family. They lovingly presented their cousin with a showering of gifts and Sokka II looked confused from Opal’s arms at the sight of another baby. Kya tried unsuccessfully to coax Lin inside who stubbornly stood outside with Mako and Wu who despite having two children of their own where still terrified at the sight of babies.

Katara sat down with a sigh as the healing chamber became too crowed, not that she’d have it any other way. She knew she could never tire of seeing the way a family comes together at the birth of a baby.

“What you gonna call her?” Hiroshi asked from where he was standing next to Pema II making the young girl blush.

Jinora shared a look with her husband before turning to look bashfully at her grandmother.

“Katara.” She said hopefully.

At her age Katara thought she was too old to be shocked but at these words she found her eyes widen. But at her granddaughter’s regretful look her eyes eyes softened into a smile.

“I’m honoured.” She said suddenly feeling a great weight had passed through her.

“Are you alright Mum?” Bumi said coming over to her. “Maybe you should lie down.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been delivering babies since I was twelve years old, it’s going to take more than that to tire me out.”

Despite her words she retired to her room thinking of the adventure known as her life. It hadn’t been easy and their where parts she’d rather forget but hearing the cry of the newest member of family made everything worth it.

She went to sleep to the sound of her families’ cries of joy and Aunt Wu’s prophecy.

She awoke to welcoming tone of her husbands voice.

Say It (Jungkook/Reader)

Originally posted by sugutie

Genre: Smut - Inspired by a fic written by Admin JP + Say It by Tory Lanez.

Words: 7.2K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: Honesty was a trait you had always prided yourself in being strong in possession of, something your friends and fans all admired you for; so the day you announced you did not like Jeon Jungkook, they knew your words were true.

Tags: Dance room rendezvous, slow and sensual sex against the dance studio mirror wall, etc. 


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No Strings (X)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating:  18+ (explicit sex)

Word Count: 5,524

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by tanktoptiger

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Everything Has Changed (Part Three)

Summary: In which everything changes when you discover Bucky’s true feelings for you in a very unconventional manner.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,540

Part Two

Originally posted by numbmimz

“Y/N?” A knock at the door accompanies the voice that just spoke, bringing a smile to your face. It’s a welcome distraction from staring at the wall, which you’ve been doing for four hours straight. There’s not much to do when you’re not allowed out of your bed. “Are you awake?”

“Come in,” you call back, propping yourself up against a few pillows. It takes some effort and your body rebels against the movement, but you grit your teeth and swallow back your groans. All the aches and pain are worth it. They prove that you’re okay. That you, unlike Antoine, are still alive.

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She’s Just Not That Into You » Part II (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Miss the first part? Find it here.

Once again, this miniseries is dedicated to @stylesunchained​. I love you, B! This time around, the ever-so-lovely @chrissy22787​ helped me out, and I thank you - immensely - for that, my dear friend. 

Let me know what you think! Happy reading.

Originally posted by cinemagraphs

Even if Nick did piss him off, Harry couldn’t help but be proud of his best friend whenever he was awarded opportunities. He worked hard, and it was nice to see that hard work pay off in the end. So, when Nick mentioned that you were having a viewing party for his appearance on The Big Fat Quiz of the Year, Harry feared that he wouldn’t be able to celebrate the milestone with him.

“Ask her,” he demanded one afternoon.

Nick laughed, his eyes widening at Harry’s insistence. After little pleading from his friend, Nick sent a text asking you if Harry could be his plus one for the dinner party. Once he’d sent it, Harry forced Nick to show him the text for proof, figuring that it was just like him to say he’d asked you when he didn’t, instead showing up to the party with Harry anyway, thinking it was funny to throw both of you for a loop. Nick’s phone dinged minutes later, your name lighting up the screen. Your response of “Sure.” had caused Harry to go into an existential crisis, the wrinkle in his brow deep as he pulled at his lips.

“She doesn’t want me there,” he grunted. “‘m not goin’.”

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Bombshell

An anon asked for a Reid fic where the reader is British and he gets turned on by her accent.  The team teases him for it and he eventually has to explain to the reader why he gets so weird whenever she talks.  I love this request, I really hope you like it!  Added in here a classic Spencer Reid Quote, shout out to anyone who can find it!

It gets smutty!  Some fluff ensues at the end, it’s super cute!

UnBeta’d so sorry for any errors, also flood warning!

Originally posted by toyboxboy

“As soon as Agent Y/L/N gets here, we are going to start the briefing,” Hotch said to the team, who were all still sitting around at their desks before disappearing into his office.

“Ready for the new team member, pretty boy?” Derek teased from his seat with a smirk.

“What?” Spencer asked nonchalantly.  He knew Y/N was British.  She’d been in for numerous interviews and when she was in the training field, all the other trainees were talking about the ‘British Bombshell’ that was joining the BAU team.  

“You know what,” Derek replied.

“Does Reid have a thing for accents?” Prentiss asked.  She looked at the genius with playful eyes.

“No, he has a thing for British accents,” JJ said, shaking her head.

“I see,” Emily said with a smirk similar to Derek’s.

“I don’t know if I like the looks on your faces,” Rossi said as he walked up.  After inspecting the teasing smiles of the three agents, he clocked the blush on Reid’s face.  “What’s wrong with you, coffee catching up to you this morning?”

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Frosting and Crushes

Summary: Newt has been distant the past week, focusing only on Tina and their work. You try to strike up conversation with him at dinner, but, after many failed attempts, grow irritated and leave early. Queenie decides to take matters into her own hands.

Word Count: 2,224

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


You sit at the dinner table with no goal but to enjoy the meal as Queenie flutters around, stirring pots with both her hands and magic. She already denied your offer to help, so you decided to pass the time talking with her. Newt had disappeared somewhere, probably inside the case, and you had immediately decided against a walk when you glanced at the growing grey clouds outside.

Inside is warm and cozy. You’re wearing your favorite gold sweater. The heat from the cooking keeps out the bite of chilly air rattling the windows. Queenie is humming a jazzy tune you’ve never heard before, only stopping to giggle at Jacob’s red face when he bumps into her.

“I’m sorry.” He says as his face turns a shade of tomato red.

“It ain’t a problem, honey.” Queenie doesn’t break a stride. “What is it you’re making?”

You’re pretty sure she asks it for your sake, given the sounds your stomach has been making since he stuck the pastries he’d spent all afternoon making into the oven, and the smell had spread throughout the small room.

“Special strawberry turnovers.”

“What makes them so special?” You ask, raising your voice over the bubbling, clanking, and simmering sounds filling the area.

“They’re my momma’s recipe. Filled with love and one other special ingredient.”

Queenie swings by Jacob with the pot of stew in hand. “I don’t think nutmeg is very secret, honey.” Five bowls float down into their places around the table as Queenie sets the stew in the center.

“I never said –“

“You don’t have to.” She smiles at him and lifts the pot’s lid.

The rich smell wafts over the table to you. You breathe it in, closing your eyes to revel in the memories it brings back. Your mother always made beef stew with potatoes and chopped carrots for special occasions. Mentally thanking Queenie, you slide your chair back and step toward the pot, scooping the stew in until it nearly sloshes out the side. Queenie merely smiles at you and twirls around Jacob.

She resumes her humming. The turnovers mix with the scent of the stew and your mouth waters. The windows shake, generating a beat that Queenie forms her music around. Jacob’s laugh fills the warm room, and your entire world, for once, is at peace.

Your content joy only expands when Newt walks in, messy auburn hair plastered against his forehead from the rain sprinkling outside, giant, beautiful smile stretched across his face. You glance at your stew, fighting the huge smile trying to break upon your face. Queenie kicks you under the table and, when you meet her gaze, lifts an eyebrow. You give a quick nod before staring back down at your food, trying to resist beaming.

The fight becomes much easier when Tina walks in behind Newt, also covered in water, smile upon her face.

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Erik Klose and the Twinyards

I’ve been thinking about this and (this is so long, gosh):

  • Erik doesn’t like the twins
  • at all
  • and he hates that because he knows Nicky loves them both to death, and he wants to support him and that tiny speck of family he has left but
  • indeed
  • he loves Nicky
  • and it’s hard, you know?

Keep reading

Good Girl (Dom!Sherlock x reader)

A/N: SOMEONE reminded me of Sherlock using the riding crop week ago and I realized I had not thought of it enough, or even enjoyed it enough. So let’s dig into it, shall we? Also I might be writing about Molly a bit too harshly on this one, but I really like her character, so don’t think I’m trying to bully her.

Warnings: smut, so much smut, riding crop, bondage, it ended up with dom!sherlock I think that’s the riding crop’s fault, some swearing.


”Oh, you’re here with that again.” Molly Hooper gasped at the sight of the riding crop in Sherlock’s hand. She had not expected to see him with it ever again. Her fingers fiddled the files she held so dearly against her chest, nervously taking in uneven breaths, her eyes wide and a warm smile creeping it’s way on her thin pink lips. Those brown beaming eyes fixing on the man’s face in front of her, trying to get an answer to an unsaid question that was right at the tip of her tongue and since she got none, deciding to make herself heard she squeaked out, ”Another experiment?”

Sherlock’s expressionless face was still blank, his pale skin almost shining under the bright white lights that shone from the lamps above them in the hallway down stairs in St. Bartholomew’s hospital at the morgue section. He faked a smile, trying his best to seem sincere, but the curve on his lips disappearing as fast as it appeared after he answered to Molly’s presumption by, ”Yes, obviously.” He then gazed over Molly’s shoulder to the door she had just exited, her spot where she examined the bodies brought in for crime consulting. ”Is your room free for use?” The smile reappearing on his face, eyes shining as he sweetly pointed towards the door.

Molly too gazed over her shoulder, dumbfounded by Sherlock’s straight forward demeanor, her pony tail swishing while following her head’s movement back and forth. She sharply turned back to Sherlock and looked disappointingly doubtful. In these occasions Sherlock would need to give Molly numerous compliments to get her bend to his will, usually two or three would do it, and he still had some laying about in the deeps of his mind. He didn’t usually settle for being told no, but even as easy as Molly was he hated to go through the trouble. Then again he didn’t need to feel bad. He was in a relationship, she knew it too. He could point out a nice thing or two about her appearance without feeling guilt.

”Well, I actually just cleared the hall and was about to get home…” Molly muttered biting down on her lower lip. She was still staring right back as Sherlock with her big eyes, much like a puppy. As Sherlock stared back at her she tried to find something, anything, to fix her eyes on so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable by the silence that took over the hallway the both had blocked. Her fingers drummed the surface of the file on her arms and before Sherlock got to test his new compliment on Molly she sighed, ”I could stay for an hour longer.”

Sherlock genuinely smiled, thanked Molly and followed after her as she turned on her heels and headed back to her spot, keeping the door open for Sherlock as he followed close behind. He was a step away from Molly, but he was careful enough not to step on her heels, keeping the distance long enough to avoid doing so. He instructed Molly what he needed, a body, in what position and age, which actually at this point were all unnecessary to him, but to keep with his habits he went by it anyway. He picked an older woman, not over fifty years old, chubby, about a day old corpse.

When you entered the hospital after receiving a message from Sherlock, where he suggested you to meet him at the morgue before going to Baker Street, you took the elevator to the down floors. He rather would company you on your way to his flat than have you wait him there for fifteen to sixty minutes when you could wait for him hear, right next to him.

You knew he was there for an experiment, but you hadn’t been informed which kind, but it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t much go with explaining everything and every part of his work to you, only when he saw fit. You exited the elevator, turned down the hall, through a door and saw Molly Hooper standing close to a window. She was flinching at the sight ahead of her that you were unable to witness. This made your imagination run wild. If Sherlock was cutting a corpse to pieces, scaring Molly you would let him hear from it for sure.

You and Molly were rather good friends, though you didn’t see each other that often. You had known her longer than Sherlock and back then, when you finally met the man Molly had been daydreaming about, constantly talking about him, you felt really bad for finding him charming, sexy and interesting. You wanted to know him better, you could point out just how unique person he was by first standing and that intrigued you. Sherlock, back then, didn’t much try to approach you and actually acted very cold toward you, but as time passed he did become interested in you. The truth was that he had found you just as interesting as you had found him, but, incapable of handling feelings and emotions he tried to push you away. But when Sherlock did tell you how he felt you fought back, for Molly. You didn’t want to be that friend that steals boyfriend or a crush, though Sherlock and Molly had never dated. Time went by and Molly realized how much Sherlock cared for you, she insisted you to let him take you out and you did. Now you had been dating for almost a year with the detective and it didn’t bother Molly, she still did fancy Sherlock, yes, but would never do anything, or try anything because she knew you and him were together.

You approached Molly with long strides, your hands sway on either side of you, your shoes hitting the floor and the sound echoing loudly, but it wasn’t enough to bring Molly back from her trance. Only until you were right beside her, already talking, she jumped realizing you were there. She was holding a file in her arms, her white long jacket almost burying her form under, her hands barely showing as she held the file high, the top touching her chin. You took a stand next to her after you had greeted her and asked her, ”What’s he doing?” Molly simply nodded towards the window.

You turned to look through the glass and what you saw almost stopped your heart, the breath you took getting stuck in your throat. The reflection of your boyfriend on the other side moved fast, mirroring his movements as he kept whipping the pale lifeless body, hair falling on his face, sweat drops lining on his forehead. He was so concentrated on what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed you, much like Molly just now. You and she stood there in silence for a minute, admiring Sherlock in his tight purple dress shirt, black jacket and trousers that hugged his body perfectly, not too tight to bother his doings.

Your eyes were captivated by the show. You pressed your thighs together, trying to evade the wetness that increased between your legs from growing, your cheeks turning pink. You could hear your own breathing, deep and long breaths. You felt ashamed that you were standing by your good friend when your boyfriend was right there, making you feel like this. The whip was drawn back then coming down in a fast swish, the end of the crop must likely echoing in the other room. Sherlock’s hair pulled back when he straightened his back, readying for another spank, then falling over his eyes when his head lowered. It took all of your efforts to move your gaze away from Sherlock and to finally concentrate on Molly, to try and be polite like a normal human being should.

”How have you been, Molly?” You asked and even if you had tried to sound as friendly and natural it didn’t show. You ended up reminding of your shy demeanor where you had only just met the woman in front of you and this was the first time talking to her which was not true. She was your closest friend. You had seen Molly repeatedly just last month. Of course these days always Sherlock being precent. ”I haven’t seen you in a while.” You gave her a warm smile to which she answered with one of her own. You started a conversation that was irrelevant to Sherlock’s on going spanking in the next room, and you kept up with it for about ten minutes. You were talking about work and Molly’s life. She had met someone who she considered worthy of her time and you cheered her to go for it, just like she had done with you on Sherlock. After those ten minutes she looked at her phone screen to see the clock and gasped. She had two missed calls and she was late from seeing this mysterious man of hers.

You put your hands comfortingly on her shoulders, promised her you and Sherlock would finish things in here while she went to change so she could clean up after Sherlock and get to her man. Molly thanked you and rushed to change, typing on her phone and then as she went to enter through a door she lifted her phone over her ear to call. You turned back to Sherlock who still kept spanking and couldn’t but freeze for another minute. He lifted his gaze, took couple of uncontrolled steps and flinched, or so it looked like, as he saw you there instead of Molly. He smirked and nodded his head, out of breath he was, to which you answered by a wave of your hand and mouthing ’Hi’ to him. He beckoned you to company him on the other side of the glass and you did as you were asked.

”Hello, Sherlock.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. The soft click heard by you both, your hand lingering on the handle while you stood near the entrance. Sherlock smirked at you and your weariness, a chuckle leaving his lips, his hands gripping the riding crop, eyes fixed on it, but not concentrated by the object. He spun on his heels, his eyes were gleaming by now, at the sight of you, and he was greatly humored  by something. He tilted his head and asked, ”Did you enjoy the show?”

”Molly needs to leave soon so better finish up what you’re doing.” You informed in an ordering tone trying to change the subject, but still held a playful smile on your lips. You walked right beside Sherlock, the room was probably a degree or two warmer than on the other side. Your steps were short, but fast enough as you approached him, not letting him grow impatient while he already waited to embrace you. He held his left hand stretched inviting you for a side hug and as you reached his arm he pulled you to his side, kissing your right temple. The riding crop was still in his right hand, his fingers gripping on it, holding it on his side and the tip of it brushing close the floor.

”I’m almost ready.” He said and his left hand’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, then a smirk spread on his lips. ”So you did enjoy the show?” That bastard just checked your pulse, you realized. ”Someone’s exited.” He stated and you looked up at his bright shining eyes and a smile he tried to keep away from spreading on his lips. His hair looked more black than dark brown in the dim light in the room you were in and it shadowed his whole face, strands of hair hanging loosely over his face. You wanted to hit him, but Sherlock pulled you closer, your hands pressed on either side of your body making it impossible for you to inform him of your opinion. You settle for a frown which wasn’t as effective as a fist to his shoulder would’ve been.

He laughed at your expression, you reminded him of an unhappy child and he rubbed your left arm with his that was still wrapped around you. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin, lips brushing your ear, ”There. Finished.” It came out in a choked chuckled he had tried to hide, but failed. You suspected he really even cared you had caught him finding the situation humorous, then again you didn’t even know what the situation was in the first place, so you gave him a suspicious grin, your body leaning inches away from him to your left to get a better look at him.

”You didn’t even do anything.” You pin pointed, eyebrows low and eyes slightly narrowed but not scowling, amusement clear on your features but still doubtful. You could see Sherlock smile wickedly at your statement, his head turning towards the window to see had Molly already come back but fortunately was met with a sight of an empty hallway. He laughed and pulled you close again, whispering to your ear, ”Tell me, how long had you been watching?” You answered with, ”Ten minutes or so.” Of course you weren’t hundred percent sure. Sherlock nodded in agreement and looked away again. He had had hard time looking straight back at you for some reason and you kept trying to catch his attention, but failed.

”Guess that’s enough.” Sherlock admitted to himself. He pulled away from the hug and started to get ready to leave, he took his jacket near the doorway, from a hanger as well as his scarf. He didn’t give you any answers from there on. You met Molly before exiting the hospital then headed to hail for a cab. Sherlock opened the door for you, he was smiling constantly and in very good mood. He sat right beside you in the cab, closer than usually and what he did through the whole ride gave away what he was up to. His hand was on your thigh, caressing and massaging the surface of your pants, inching higher and higher. You couldn’t stop smiling. So this was one of those days then. His eagerness surprised you, that you had to admit.

When you finally got to Baker Street, Sherlock paid the ride, rushing to open the door to his flat for you and when you went inside, he shut the door with a loud bang. You were taking your coat off when Sherlock took a stand right behind you, his front pressed firmly against your back. His breath lingered on your shoulders and you could hear him panting. He was so deliciously needy for you by now that you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

”Leave your coat and shoes, get upstairs to my bedroom and start stripping.” He growled in your ear. You knew he would get impatient in a second, but you wanted this. He had made you go through his show, now he had to go through yours. The coat you were wearing had now fallen off your shoulders, hanging on your elbows when you gazed at Sherlock over your shoulder, peeking at him sexily, biting your lower lip and asked, ”Do you want me completely naked or in my underwear?” You teased, pulling your hair back so he could see you better. He sucked air in his lungs, his eyes narrowing when he hissed, ”Everything on the floor. And don’t make me wait for another second, or I will have to punish you.” You tried to keep the chuckle in. Oh you would enjoy this.

”Are we in a hurry?” You purred, now fully facing him, on your tip toes. Your hands found their way on his shoulders, your lips touching his chin as you went to whisper, ”Are you too eager you can’t wait any longer?” That was when Sherlock snapped. He growled, lifting the riding crop to his mouth and bit on it, lowered his shoulders, his coat falling on the floor, he ripped his scarf off around his neck, that too on the floor in a blink and then he hooked his hands behind your thighs, pulling you to him, lifting you up. Your chest was pressed against his, your hands now behind his back, legs around his hips as he started to carry you upstairs. You giggled at his sudden dominance.

Sherlock carried you straight to his room, kicking the ajar door open with his foot and threw you on the bed, closing the door just as loudly as the front door. He gave you a wild, lustful look, taking the crop from his mouth and ordered you, ”Clothes off. Now.” And you did as he asked. You took your time though, giving him a show you slid your pants down with slow motion, your shirt pulled over your head, your hips swinging while you stripped. You could see the bulge in Sherlock’s pants. You bit your lip again, now taking the top that had been under your long sleeved shirt, lifting it to shield your eyes and while you were at it, Sherlock approached you fast, pulling the cloth off you and throwing it somewhere in his room. You unclasped your bra, taking it off while Sherlock went down on you. You heard him moan as he took a whiff. ”So wet for me already.” He moaned, taking your knickers, ”Just as I suspected.” then pushing you back down on his bed.

His room was dark, the only light came from through the thin and light curtains, but it wasn’t much. Then again you didn’t really care was it day light or moon light in which you fucked, just that you could see his face. You crawled back on the bed, Sherlock taking a step closer, he hungrily studied your now naked body. You lifted your head and dared to ask, ”Aren’t you going to take yours off?” That made Sherlock smile. It was one of those dominant smiles that gave you the answer. This was going to take time. You were in for a good and long play, wether you liked it or not, and Sherlock would make sure you would suffer. This wasn’t going to be one of those fair fights, but a foreplay with Sherlock was never fair. He would make sure to torture you with a long teasing. ”I don’t need to take mine off.” He chuckled. That cocky bastard.

”Shame, I would love to help.” You smirked. You made a risky move, lifting your leg up in the air, your toes touching the bulge in his pants and rubbing the fabric that shielded his cock. You looked at Sherlock daringly, about to inch closer to unbuckle his belt when he shoved your leg away with a grunt. He took a hold of your ankles, pulled at them so you were laying on your back, towering over you and whispered with a low, threatening tone, ”One more move and I will tie you to the bed, darling.” This sent a shiver down your spine, your folds pulsing. You gave out a shaky breath, not able to contain yourself. You didn’t know was that what you wanted, for Sherlock to tie you down or to just go with what he had planned already? He was already warning you and you knew he could be very ruthless towards you in bed, but you also knew when you were challenged you couldn’t back up.

You kneed his groin fast but softly enough to not hurt him. His back arched and he moaned out loud in your ear. You moved your leg, your knee rubbing his bulge. You couldn’t continue it longer than five seconds before Sherlock pulled away from you. You sat up, half disappointed how long he lasted but half amused by his angered expression. He took fast long steps, took a pair of hang cuffs from his locker and turned to you. You playfully whined and pouted. ”Aw, come now Sherlock. I was just returning the favor.” You pulled your hands behind your back as if that would stop him from cuffing you to the bed and like you had suspected, it didn’t.

”On your stomach, woman.” He ordered coldly. You knit your brows together. You knew you were in for trouble as he addressed you by ’woman’ and you felt hesitant on turning your back to him. This resulted Sherlock rolling his eyes at you, he walked over to you, took you by the shoulders and turned you over. His hands were awfully forceful and powerful and you couldn’t fight him nor did you want to. You were in a state where every move he made, every touch he gave you made you tingle. His fingers wrapped around your left wrist, cuffed it and pulled it around one of the headboards iron bars. Then he took a hold of your right wrist, securing it with the other and got up from the bed. You looked at Sherlock over your shoulder, he admired your exposed body and you could tell that you disobeying, ending you cuffed to the bed had only turned him on even more.

He took the riding crop from the floor where he had dropped it when he had helped you strip, eyeing the object dangerously interested in it. He let his fingers caress the crop, taking his time admiring the item. Your breathing started to quicken. You had never done this before and were honestly nervous by now. You knew you could deal with pain, but you had never experienced it while sex, not like this. You had to admit that you had found it hot when he had whipped the dead body back in the hospital, secretly wanted him to use it on you, but now that you were there, laying naked on your stomach ready for a beating you couldn’t help but worry.

”This is going to serve as your punishment, for starters.” Sherlock informed, his eyes now back on you. ”But only for starters as I am aware this will also turn you on even more, so do not think I am being nice to you.” He warned with a low voice. He then lifted the crop and swished it through the air, the tip hitting you hard on your left butt cheek. You chocked out a sound that was a mix of yelp, gasp and shriek. The touch of the crop was so sudden and the pain so fast like a big elastic band hitting your rear you couldn’t make out sound louder than the snap itself that echoed from the spank.

”Now, count out with me.” Sherlock instructed coldly and showed no remorse which only exited you more. ”When you are unable to feel the blows only then I will stop. That was one.” He waited, but you said nothing. He huffed in irritation, then hit you again with the crop, hearing you gasp. ”One!” He yelled and you repeated his words shortly. ”Good girl.” Sherlock cooed, pleased at your cooperation and you felt the words sink in. You were getting wet by his hits, but him dressing you like that, so dominantly made you lose your mind.

You had reached to five when Sherlock stopped. He let his hand caress your red, sensitive behind with his tender fingers. You had never imagined that the sensation that came from being hit repeatedly and then caressed could feel this good, it really felt like a reward more than a punishment. Your body shook under his touch, anticipating to get a real reward from your dominant boyfriend, but your movements back fired. Sherlock mused, ”I see you can still feel my touch.” You whined when he withdrew his hand from you and gripped the crop. He held it high, over his head and calmly said, ”Keep counting with me, love.” And he brought it down hard. Thankfully it took him only six more spanks to find you silent, not responding and he stopped. He sat beside you and started caressing your behind.

You were out of breath, your ass tingling and cheeks wet from tears. You had to admit you had liked the spanking, the crop would definitely need to stay around, but you intended that next time it would be drawn on his skin, not yours. You relaxed as much as you could on the bed, the soft blankets underneath you caressing your skin nicely, warm from your body heath. You nuzzled your head to the pillows, moaned while Sherlock treated your stinging arse.

”Spread your legs for me.” Sherlock ordered after a while of silence and this time, without any nasty remarks or witty comebacks you did as he said. You couldn’t see, but you heard from his voice that he was smirking. ”Someone has learned their lesson.” This sent a spark through you and you instantly wanted to show him just how submissive you had become, it was in your nature to keep fighting and resisting. ”Good girl.” Sherlock purred and that made all the thoughts of resistance fade. You were a slave to that word. Oh how much you loved hearing him say it.

Sherlock got closer to the between of your legs, he took the riding crop out again, holding it loosely in his hand. You reacted to his movements and went to close your legs, but Sherlock stopped you. He took a hold of your calves and kept them in place with an iron like grip. ”Don’t close them.” He warned. You forced your legs to relax and let him do what he was about to. You jumped on the bed when he brought the tip of the crop up your wet slit, gathering some of your juices to it to examine how wet you were. You heard him groan, pleased by your wetness. He then threw the crop away, it ended up on the floor far away from the bed. You smiled, thinking finally you could get you release.

Sherlock reached over your body, his breath tickling your neck and he placed his lips on your bare skin, kissing you softly. He went down your spine, his hands on both side of your waist. He lingered at your lower back, his breath warm against you, kissing and licking your skin, worshipping you. You were breathing loudly, ready for him to take, to give you your release, but Sherlock was far from that. He went back up, his lips guiding him, back to your shoulders and to your neck. His curly hair ghosted on your cheek, his hands cupping your breasts. Oh how you had needed that. He massaged your nipples with his fingers, making sure to keep you moaning.

”Please.” You moaned in between deep breaths. ”Please, Sherlock.” You gasped. Sherlock grinned. You were already begging, how sad. ”Sherlock, I can’t take this anymore, I need you.” Your voice grew louder and louder, but Sherlock kept his pace steady, horribly slow. You didn’t want him to treat you this way, not now when he had started so dominantly, turning to your gentle lover that took his time to give all your body parts equally the same amount of love. His voice surprised you. It was nothing like what his actions gave out. He almost growled in your ear, ”You think you have learned your lesson?” He asked. You were baffled. What lesson? If he didn’t mean you disobeying his orders then you had no idea what he was talking about. ”When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. No questions asked.” Good, so you were on the same page. You nodded your head, then moaned, ”I’ll be good. I’m a good girl. I’ll do what ever you say.” An evil grin spread on Sherlock’s lips. ”That is what I am counting on.” He gave you a last kiss, then pulled away. You heard him get off the bed, starting to strip. You were about to turn on your back when Sherlock snapped, ”I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t make me punish you again, love.”

You waited as he agonizingly slowly undressed himself, he could see you twitch on the bed, your eyes taking in every new naked part of him as he pulled the clothes off. ”How does it feel?” He asked. ”To have to wait for me?” You frowned. So this was payback time? ”It’s killing me.” You whispered truthfully. Sherlock hummed in agreement. ”Good.” He stated, now finally fully naked, his wonderful cock rock hard, pointing towards you. He walked closer, you moved on the bed but not changing your position. ”Now on your fours.” He said.

”Aren’t you going to uncut me?” You asked truly surprised. You longed to touch him. You longed to turn over and kiss him, bury your finger in his hair and pull him close. You heard Sherlock chuckle. ”You didn’t really think I was done with your punishment, did you?” Your eyes flew open. He knew how much you hated to be bound to the bed when he did give you your release. So this was it. This was one of his punishments. And you had thought it had been the riding crop. Stupid you.

”I did mention knowing you would get aroused by the riding crop before. This is your real punishment. You have been a very bad girl and I think your release will be rewarding enough. No need to untie you, maybe now my naughty girl will learn.” He purred and you cursed, but just inside of your head. You knew now that you had crossed a line. Why did you have to tease him so?

”Please, Sherlock, I promise I’ll be good from now on! Just please, untie me!” You pleaded as Sherlock positioned himself behind you. He put his hands on your ass that was now in the air, your legs slightly spread. ”No. You need to become more obedient and if I am to back away from my methods you will never learn. Now, embrace your reward, love. Next time I even might let you lay on your back.” And he thrusted in. You moaned louder than expected, your hands pulling the cuffs. You were sure you would have awful bruises on your wrists by the morning.

Sherlock pulled out slowly, then thrusted back in, his nails digging deep into your flesh as he pounded into you in a way that made you scream from pleasure. He was rough with you, his right hand finding it’s way in your hair and grasping it, pulling your head back as he thrusted. It didn’t take you long to come, and Sherlock came right after you, pulling out and spreading his cum over your holes and running down your thighs. You tried to even your breathing, your head hit the pillows, Sherlock retreating from you and laying next to you, opening the cuffs for you so you could lay down next to him.

Sherlock pulled you to his embrace, hugged you and kissed you. You snuggled close to him, both of you sweaty and still out of breath. Sherlock was first to talk, ”I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.” He whispered. You shook your head. ”No, just the right amount.” You admitted. ”I really didn’t intend to be so ruthless.” Sherlock told you, but he didn’t sound so sincere as he had intended. ”It’s alright, as long as you let me use the crop next time.” You chuckled, your eyes starting to close. Sherlock laughed at that and said, ”Didn’t I tell you that next time, it will be you, once again cuffed to the bed on your back?”

”You were serious?” You asked, your eyes opening. Your boyfriend laughed at your puzzled expression. ”Of course I was serious. Your punishment is far from over.” He explained and kissed the top of your head. ”You fucking sociopath.” You sighed.

YOI Fan Rec Friday

(21/4/17)

Thank you all for your requests this week! I’m really sorry this is up so late, my wifi shut off and I had some personal things that were happening!

Rec’d by anonymous:
Yu-topia Gentleman’s Club by Aradellia (CurtusPatronus), Teen, 45k (WIP)
Victor hadn’t exactly wanted the end of his long training day to finish at the bottom of a glass alongside his friend Chris, however he hadn’t expected Chris to drag him to a strip club, of all places. Of course, he also hadn’t expected to be introduced to one of the most alluring and blinding dancers he had ever seen in his life.

Rec’d by anonymous:
Comfort Food by youaremarvelous, Mature, 20k (WIP)
Viktor is a wildly popular male model who is in crisis over aging out of the industry. He runs into Yuuri, an international university student struggling to make friends in the big city, and decides to make him his pet project. Unfortunately, matchmaking isn’t as easy as he thought it would be—especially when he starts developing complicated feelings for his client.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @wombatcuddles :
Forgetting by pushpullds, Mature, 1.7k
Oh, he thinks, surprised. I’m married.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
come get you some of that bounce baby by crossroadswrite, Teen, 3.8k
in which they’re happily married, coaching Russia’s and Japan’s next great skaters, and Victor Nikiforov remains the clingiest, thirstiest man on the face of this planet.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
Katsuki Yuuri: Ascended Fanboy by Defiant-Dreams (baterina_1234), Teen, 8.9k
“And wow, that was a beautiful Viktor—I mean, a beautiful Quad Flip by Viktor.” Yuuri visibly winces and he momentarily covers his face. Morooka glances at him in concern but Yuuri shrugs it off quickly and shakes his head as he continues, “Really, others try to do it, but no one does a Quad Flip quite as well or quite as clean as Viktor—if they even manage to land it.” 

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Sing for me by siberianchan, Teen, 45k (WIP)
It is 1848, it is Opera and Yuuri Katsuki has just arrived from his former home Milan in Dresden to work as a chorus singer at the Semperoper. Starting over in a new country, surrounded by strangers is taxing, especially when the lead tenor is acting so contractionary towards you and when your own anxiety constantly has you on your toes.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Correspondence by Watermelonsmellinfellon, Mature, 36k (WIP)
Victor Nikiforov agreeing to partner with Penned Pals for a season, had to be the best decision of his and Katsuki Yuuri’s lives. It brought them together after all.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
The Prince and the Pharmacist by Victuuri gives me feelings (Help_Im_Shipper_Trash), Teen, 1.3k (WIP)
When ordinary pharmacist Yuuri Katsuki is ordered by crowned Prince Cristophe Giacometti to be his escort, Yuuri panics and decides his only hope is to flee the country. On the run, he stumbles across a kind, silver haired stranger. Victor Nikiforov is instantly fascinated with the young pharmacist, and wants nothing more than to help. His two attendants, Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin, are less than thrilled.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
in a snap of your fingers by silencedmockingjay, Gen, 3.8k
“I’m mad, okay?!” A flash of anger lights up Viktor’s face, eyes narrowed, eyebrows in a v-shape, mouth turned downwards. And then his hand comes up and slaps Yuuri’s hand away.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @bluelup28 :
The Skater and The Beast by Charlie_R_Everitt, Gen, 17k (WIP)
Yuuri was cursed years ago to a grisly form and has hidden himself a way from the world. Yet, every year for the past couple of years, something has caught his eye. A beautiful young skater, skating on a near by lake by the village near his castle… “Yuuri, you should have faith!” “Pitchit, who could ever learn to love a beast?” AU with elements from Beauty and the Beast.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
All Eyes on Me by Kizuna_Auri, Explicit, 45k (WIP) (Omegaverse)
Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
One of those nights by justmeandmysillystuff, Mature, 102k (WIP)
One of those nights, Yuuri meets him by accident. One of those weeks, he gets into his life. One of those months, he realizes he may be falling in love. One of those years, becomes the best of his life.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
My Hero, Yuuri by Abarero, Teen, 57k (WIP)
At the age of 23, Yuuri Katsuki is certain he’s just a dime-a-dozen hero that will never make a difference. Little does he know that the moment his path crosses with legendary hero, Victor Nikiforov, both of their lives will begin to change for the better.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
This Night is Flawless by flowercrownyuri (elevensong), Teen, 5k
Prince Yuuri can’t see anything without his glasses. It normally isn’t an issue, but when Yuuri goes to the royal ball without them he can’t see the man who captures his attention that night and can only remember him by his voice. Determined to find the ‘mystery man’, Yuuri goes through the entire town in hopes of finding the one who won his affections. But what happens when said mystery man turns out to be a beautiful guy named Victor, and why is he acting like they met before last night?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Lost souls by EurusLex, Explicit, 5.7k (WIP)
What the fuck was happening? His brain did not want to wrap around whatever was going on—maybe it was because had just woken up from a deep sleep or maybe it was the sheer terror pumping through his body—but no matter what it was, he really wanted to calm down so he could hear himself think.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @fullmetalkarneval13 :
Stay Close to Me: A Highschool Love Story. by FullmetalKarneval13, Mature, 19k (WIP)
Viktor was Yuuri’s light, his safe place when he didn’t have one. But in middle school when Viktor had to move away. Yuuri drowned in the abyss of bullies and anxiety. Now years later Yuuri is a senior in highschool. He sees something that crushes and opens his heart at the same time.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Amnesia by cerisebio, Gen, 19k
Victor wakes up in a hospital room. At his bedside is a Japanese skater he came across at the Sochi Grand Prix Final.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit, Mature, 38k (WIP)
All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he’ll do. He just didn’t expect to become a fan, too.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @osnapitzhanaa :
never tasted rubies by ebenroot, Teen, 16k
in which Yuuri is an unwilling radio host and Victor won’t stop calling in to chat with him

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
I’ll be your Tramp if you be my Lady by DairyFarmer, Teen, 5.1k
“You are so sad.” Yuri grumbled as Viktor sighed longingly in the direction of Makkachin and Duchess’s groomer, who also happened to be an angel named Yuuri Katsuki. In which Yuuri is a pet groomer and Viktor falls in love.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Sweetsilversub by phlintandsteel, Explicit, 71k
When Katsuki Yuuri thinks about his life, he feels like maybe it should have the subtitle 'A Study In Contradictions’ after it. As he grows and learns more about himself though, he decides he’s willing to acknowledge that being a 'Work In Progress’ is ok too. Even if he struggles with uniting the 'online’ and 'in real life’ portions of himself, at least he’s got friends in both places who are willing to stick by him while he works shit out. And maybe more than friends, if the look in Victor’s eyes is anything to go by… How did this become his life!!?!?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and @saecookie :
A Lesson in Wanting by awesometinyhumanbeing, Not Rated, 12k
Victor ties himself into a knot known as Katsuki Yuuri—in more ways than one—and they navigate their way to each other in a series of fits and starts, miscommunication, and Herculean pining.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @flyingsuits-blog-blog:
Take Hold by LavenderProse, Mature, 20k
“I believe…” Yuuri says, pensive. “I believe that when you’re connected to another person so closely that you share a soul, it’s stupid to think that you wouldn’t feel it. How can you not recognize part of yourself when they’re standing right in front of you?”
“That's…I…yes.” Viktor tries to untie his tongue, mouth suddenly arid. “You—I think you would know, yes.”
Yuuri skates onto the ice and Viktor’s soul screams after him, Do you know? Can you see me? I’m here, I’m here.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @snapdragon-princess :
Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 73k
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella’ Yuuri.
(And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing).

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @deadlychildartemis :
A Heart of Blades||Cannot Break by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche), Teen, 16k (WIP)
Or the one in which Yuuri decides to try gaming on a whim when he’s thirteen, manages to get his hands on SAO, and has to live with its impact and fallout for the rest of his life.


Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

The amazing “YOI Fan Rec Friday” banner was created by @omgkatsudonplease ! I love them a lot, check out their blog!

Inevitable

BNHA Fanfiction
Based on this incredible art and AU by @keiid. Idea credit is theirs. 

“They always insinuate that it’s a quirk fit for a villain. But I’m used to it now. It’s inevitable, society being the way it is.”
It was really only a matter of time before Shinsou Hitoshi changed sides.
(Minor manga spoilers)


A layer of haze hung suspended in the room of the abandoned factory. Dirt swirled through the air, displaced from cracked floor tiles and decaying furniture by the four people who entered and spaced themselves evenly throughout. A coating of filth clung to the lightbulbs, rendering their light weak and nearly useless. Motes shifted in the blue-white glare of a television propped in the corner, the brightest source of illumination in the room. The very air tasted of dust.

It wasn’t the cleanest place the Villain Alliance could have claimed as a meeting place, Shigaraki reflected, scratching at his neck. But it was convenient. And he wasn’t stupid enough to bring an untested recruit to their main hideout. They were too low on members to risk any of them needlessly.

But then, that’s what made a new recruit so valuable. And this one in particular…

Shigaraki gazed at the purple-haired teen in satisfaction.

Oh yes. This one could could be exactly the kind of asset they needed. It was just a pity his joining their side had coincided with such commotion.

Shinsou was staring wordlessly at the news channel displayed on the TV, his arms crossed over his chest. A banner scrolled along the bottom of the screen, screaming in bold white letters on a brilliant red background:

YUUEI HIGH STUDENT SHINSOU HITOSHI SPOTTED FLEEING SCENE WITH VILLAIN ALLIANCE

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Coincidence (Jimin x Reader)


Admin:
Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Hi could you do a jimin fanfic or something?? Where she has a one night stands with jimin and has feelings for him and in the morning she realise he is her new teacher. Xxxxx

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: language, sex, drinking

Word Count: 4275 (woops)

Authors Note: Some smut for Jimin (my first bias before Jungkook snatched me lmao). I hope you enjoy it and that it was as good as you asked for! I got a bit carried away lol, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Let me know if there are errors, feedback is appreciated, and happy reading! ^^

 - PART 2 -

 - PART 3 -

 - BONUS - 

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