i want to be ginger sobs

Cramp

“Ginny, do you want some water?” Arthur offered the water jug to his daughter. She, Luna, Draco, Harry, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley’s were having dinner in the livingroom of the Burrow, in honour of Fred and George’s 24th birthday.

“Yes dad. Please put more water in my already to the brim filled glass.” Ginny bit at her dad, and she shot him a vicious glare that would have scared the pants of Voldemort himself, if the notorious mass murderer hadn’t died five years back. “Really, what a wonder-fucking-ful idea.”

“Ginny! That’s not -” Started Percy, but he was cut off almost immediately.

“I bloody well talk how I like, especially to morons who can’t see my fucking glass was already fucking full.” Ignoring the massaging hands of her girlfriend on her back Ginny jumped up and stormed out. With a door slam more overdramatic than even Draco could muster she disappeared upstairs.

Percy huffed and when he spoke again, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had come over the table, it was with an undertone of disgust and superiority. “That’s why women don’t hold high functions in the ministry. They get terribly hormonal when it’s that time-”

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be the one shedding organs through your freshly cut birth canal in a second.” Draco’s eyes bore into Percy’s like cold daggers, and his entire body radiated fury and disdain. The tip of his wand was aimed at Percy’s throat.

“And I’ll make sure there are plenty of therestals to help get rid of the blood.” To everyone’s surprise Luna had risen from her chair in sync with Draco, and her wand had been out even quicker than his.

Percy now had two sets of furious grey eyes on him, and visibly squirmed under their intensity.

“I’ll give him the speech, you go comfort Ginny.” Draco said without taking his eyes of the least-likable Weasley. Growing up under the wings of Narcissa Black had turned Draco into the most active male feminist wizarding Britain had seen in centuries.

Luna gave him a quick smile and slipped upstairs. Ginny had always had an especially long and painful period, but it seemed to only get worse with her age.


“Ginny?” Luna pushed the door of her girlfriend’s old bedroom open. The ginger girl was rocking back and forth on her bed, a pillow clutched to her stomach. With quick strides Luna joined her and carefully placed her arms around her.

“It hurts Luna. It hurts like fuck and I’ve wanted to rip my fucking uterus out for hours now, but I can’t and it sucks.” A frustrated sob left Ginny’s throat. Luna gently tugged her auburn hair behind her ears and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Why not darling? You’re not telling me that the great and dauntless Ginny Weasley doesn’t have the guts to just throw the entire thing out, now, are you?” Luna presented her lover the best comforting smile she had to offer. Ginny didn’t see it though, because she’d thrown herself into Luna’s arms, causing both of them to fall backwards onto the bed.

“I can’t, Lune. I can’t. There’s still a kid or three that I want to come out of it.” She whispered against her neck. The tickling sensation of air brushing past skin caused Luna to shiver and tighten her arms around Ginny. She wished she could take away her pain, wished she could do more that just make Ginny hot chocolate, punch the occasional misogynist in the face or feed her the magical equivalent of advil for breakfast.

She couldn’t though, so instead she hugged Ginny, whispered words of comfort in her ear and promised they’d take a chocolate bath later that night. The WWW chocolate bath bomb had been a birthday gift from the twins for Ginny’s last birthday, designed especially for women and men suffering from severe period cramps.

Ginny relaxed a bit at that notion. The prospect of at least an hour filled with chocolate and no pain put her mind at rest.

“You’re the best girlfriend ever Luna.” Luna felt Ginny’s content smile through her shirt, and with it came the final push for Luna to do what she’d been planning to do for months now.

“Ginny?”

“Yes my love?”

“Marry me?”

“Only if I can have unlimited chocolate biscuits.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Then yes. I would like that very much.” Ginny pulled her fiancé in for a kiss. Shedding organs was no party, but with Luna by her side even satan’s waterfalls couldn’t keep her in a bad mood.


I am in so much period-related pain right now and I have no Luna to hold me. But instead of bitching about that I wrote this, becuase I refuse to let satan’s waterfalls ruin my productivity. When it comes to fanfiction ofc, I’m not actually going to do anything useful while my lower body is being crucioed. 

Attraction

Jughead Jones x Reader


Attraction. It was something that everyone wants to be mutual with the person in question but at times the person you’re attracted too doesn’t like you back.

I like Jughead, Jughead likes Betty, Betty likes Archie, Archie likes Val and I’ve no idea what’s going on with Veronica and Kevin. So while we all spent our days staring at them adoringly or laughing at their jokes like it’s the first time we’ve ever heard one, we’re all obvious to each other’s feelings except Veronica, she hit the nail on the head straight away.

We were all sat in the student lounge room, Archie adorably smiling at Valerie as she spoke about them working on another song together near the vending machine, Betty and Jughead sat in the furtherest away corner whispering about god knows what, Veronica and Kevin sitting on the couch and lonely little me sitting on the chair, pretending I’m not analysing them while working on an end of year assignment.

“Are you’s up for a weekend of shopping?” Veronica, asked the whole group. The guys instantly turning down her offer. “That would be fun” Betty smiled, my hands automatically going into fists. Betty and I have been friends forever and I know she doesn’t know about Jughead, me liking him or him liking her but being around her brought up horrible feelings.

“No thanks” My eyes going straight back to my paper. I know I was being rude but I really can’t handle being around Betty all the time anymore and what makes it worse is she’s clueless to the situation. “Someone’s PMSing” Kevin, tried to joke which only resulted in me glaring at him as I got up to the leave the lounge.

“Where are you going?” Archie, called after me but I ignored him. Clearly I’m not the kind of person that can hide their emotions very well but I think space from the gang will do me well.


——-

It had been a week since I last spoke to everyone. I had countless texts and trying to be stopped in the halls at school or when I would swing by Pops to pick up an order but I used the same excuse all the time “sorry I’m busy”. Until I was cornered, so to speak, by Jughead in the student lounge Friday afternoon.

“So what’s been keeping you so busy?” Asking nonchalant, sitting beside me on the couch his bag at his feet. “Just this and that” I nodded, finishing typing my essay. “Really? Cause I feel like you’re trying to avoid me” Taking both my hands in his stopping me from typing any further. “Just busy” I tried to smile looking into his beautiful eyes. “I know you’re lying” He stated, giving me a pointed look. “Tell me” He almost pleaded, one of his hands resting on my cheek, his thumb softly rubbing circles on it.

“How long have you liked Betty?” I sighed, leaning further into his touch. His movements stopping at my question. Slamming my laptop I grabbed my bag getting ready to leave Jug alone, refusing to answer my question. “Forget it. If you can’t be honest with me I don’t see why I should do you the same curtesy” I snapped, all my feelings and emotions getting the better of me.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together so I kissed her hoping she would see that I like her but we haven’t spoke about it since” I just stared at him watching his lips move knowing he was still talking but my brain couldn’t register anything else apart from the fact they kissed and here I am trailing after a boy who has no interest in me. Maybe Betty did know after all.

“Y/N”

“Y/N”

“Y/N” snapping out of my trance from Jugheads waving hand in front of my face. “I’ve got to go” I muttered, running out of the lounge not giving Jughead a better explanation.

I could feel the tears building in my eyes as I ran down the empty hallways, crouching over against one of walls, letting the tears stain my face, I couldn’t stop the cries from leaving my mouth.

“Y/N” looking up through tear filled, blurry eyes I couldn’t make out a face but with the voice and the ginger hair I knew it was Archie. I wasn’t sure how many minutes I had been here crying but it literally felt like hours.

Throwing myself into his waiting arms, I sobbed into his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing circles on my back. “Who done this to you?” Arch, mumbled in my ear, wrapping his arms even more around me. “Jughead kissed Betty” I continued to cry, maybe it was my imagination but it felt like Archie froze at my words. “And you like Jughead” Archie spoke the realisation of my reaction making more sense. “I never want to feel like this again” I almost whined my tears slowly coming to a stop.

“I’ll try my best to stay out of your way” Archie and I pulling out of our embrace at the sound of Jugheads voice. “How much did you hear?” I almost winced, terrified of his answer. “I’m sorry” His words answering both questions, even though one was never spoken, his face chalk white, maybe with my new revelation that he was never meant to hear or maybe finding out that he’s just lost one of his best friends.


Part 2

Awakened-Chapter 4

Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier. You are part of the Avengers and dating Bucky Barnes. Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha. When you catch them in the act, things go downhill from there. You are a Mutant with similar powers to Jean, only with Immortality thrown in.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky X Natasha, Logan Howlett X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.

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The Letter came

Originally posted by moon-leviosa

A little emotional imagine with Fred Weasley post-battle


The letter came to them seven years after the battle in the hands of ministry worker.  No one knew that on that Sunday their lives would be forever changed by the familiar scrawling words on that piece of parchment. No one knew that, that letter would bring them something they never knew they lost.


Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

I’m not sure when you’ll be getting this letter but I expect in the near future. I can’t lie to myself any longer. I’m growing sicker with each passing day and I know soon, i’ll be dead.

I want you to know I loved Fred, he was everything to me and when he died a part of me died with him. I always felt partiality responsible for his death and that is why I could never face any of you after he died.  I was a Lestrange, a daughter of two deatheaters who caused so much pain and death and I knew that’s all people would ever see of me; So I left.

At the time I didn’t know it but soon I found out I was pregnant and it was clear Fred was their father. They gave me something to live for but still, my guilt and shame stopped me from ever contacting you.  

When they where born they looked so much like him with the red hair and part of me was grateful that they look like me.  I named him Arthur George Weasley, I knew Fred would have wanted that and I named her Minerva Molly Weasley.  Arthur always had a knack for mischief like his father but it was Minnie who excelled at tormenting and pranking her brother. With each day they looked more and more like their father and I couldn’t be happier.

The reason I’m writing you this letter is because I know I’m dying and I want to know they will be cared for and loved. I hope this letter will help when the Ministry brings them to you, and I hope you can forgive me for never contacting you before. 

Sincerely, Cordelia Lestrange.


Molly, now older and grayer, just stared at the young children before her. Everyone did. 

The little boy and girl before them looked every bit a Weasley with their ginger hair and brown eyes.  

Ginny had left the room in tears, Molly was sobbing over the letter, Arthur stared down at the floor and George couldn’t look away from the children-  His brother’s children.  


They were eleven now, had gotten their Hogwarts letter and already been to Diagon Alley for their school supplies. Now they just waited to broad the train to Hogwarts. Despite many of their children still now ready for Hogwarts, almost the whole Weasley clan was at the station to see them off.  They had both grown so much since they arrived five years ago. Arthur Jr. was tall and lanky like his father had been while Minerva was still rather short, one of the very few traits she had gotten from her mother. 

George wished that Fred and Cordelia could be here to see their children off, he wished they’d been their to watch them grow.  He watched the shove and goof off much like him and Fred had done on their first train ride to Hogwarts.  They reminded him so much of himself and Fred at their age that he sometimes found it almost painful but when his mother yelled at them to get onto the train before it left them behind a smile spread onto his face.

She had said the same thing to George and Fred their first years.


They got a letter week later from them both.

Minerva unsurprisingly got sorted into Slytherin, she was always cunning. Something that helped her well in her pranks against  different family members.

Arthur found himself in Hufflepuff with Teddy, which made sense. He was always very kind and loyal to a fault, especially to his sister no matter how much trouble she got him into.

The following week they got a letter from Professor McGonagall that made George smile.

Some how they had managed to expand the swamp that he and Fred had left at Hogwarts before they left, effectively now taking up two corridors.  

Mine Now (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

Tagging : @multi-villain-imagines  @bidennisreynolds  @aya-fay  @queencobblefreezestuff  @dv8n666ways  @noodlecupcakes  @miss-harleenquinzel  @moaningvaleska     let me know if you want to be tagged in things

Originally this was going to be a Dwight x Reader but it changed directions in my brain quite a few times before and during the writing process. So the reader was engaged to the now dead Dwight and Jerome claims her as his own.

Warnings would be for Angst, Non-Con touching (breasts and legs, unwanted kisses) Implied non-con things in the future, reference to the death of Dwight, let me know if I forgot something


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Liar Pt. 3- Jinhwan

Liar Pt.3

Pt.1 & Pt.2

Request:  A jinhwan scenario where u have been best friends since u were little and u had feelings for him but 1 day he gets this gf that always hated u and was jealous of u but he doesn’t know the gf is only using him 4 fame u try to tell him but he thinks ur lying and only saying this because ur jealous and because u don’t want him to have a gf so u go home and cry because u’re worried for him u don’t want him to be upset later on he finds out u were telling the truth u can decide what happens lame😁M.I

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance/Smut

Band Member: Kim Jinhwan

Summary: Jamie Taintor (you, the reader) has been best friends with Jinhwan since elementary. She’d been enemies with Sarang since middle school. It just so happens that Jinhwan begins dating Sarang, but Jamie knows better. If she can convince Jinhwan the truth, so be it. If she loses her best friend in the process…

Inspired By: Wasting My Young Years by London Grammar, Girlfriend by Watch the Duck, and Crazy In Love by Beyoncé


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You Think It’s Easy For Me Seeing You With Her? (Fredxreader Imagine)

Originally posted by couplenotes

You were in love with Fred Weasley. Seriously? Out of all the people in the school you HAD to fall for one that every girl had a crush on? He was your best friend and you hung out with him every day but you never got past that point. And now, he’s dating Angelina Johnson. Great. 

“Y/N are you STILL thinking about him? He.likes.Angelina.” Hermione snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Y/N, get over him. Look around you! Soo may fish in the sea.” Ginny said.

This was true.. You were an attractive girl and a few guys did have a little thing for you. Oh, what the heck? Maybe you can have some fun away from Fred for a little. You walked over to Oliver Wood and started talking.


A month has passed. You were now going out with Oliver, and Fred is still going on strong with Angelina. Things were alright with Oliver, it’s just that there wasn’t really much of a spark. You still felt butterflies in your stomach when Fred talked to you and you hated it. He’s your best friend for god sake and you have a boyfriend, get it together Y/N.


“Now why would Muggles even play Twisto?” inquired Ron.

“First of all, it’s Twister Ron, and second, its fun!” You exclamed setting up the game.

“I used to play this with Dudley all the time and for some reason he always ended up crushing me. He was a heaavy child.” Harry chuckled, rubbing his ribs reminiscing his childhood.

“Well it’s a good thing that none of us weigh as much as a baby killer whale. Angie you playing?” Fred asked his girlfriend.

“Nah, i’ll just sit back and watch with Georgie.” she said, plopping down on the couch beside the twin.

A couple of turns later, you were awkwardly balanced on your hands and feet with your stomach facing the air, Harry’s head was in between Ginny’s arms, Hermione and Ron were on the verge of collapsing and Fred was doing some sort of one-armed pushup.

“kayy Fred, put your left hand on a red.” George said spinning the wheel.

“Red? Aarh that’s so far away!” Fred struggled and planted his hand on a red circle right beside your waist, so he was hovering above you making you go slightly red. Ron’s elbow shook and the next second, he had collapsed onto Fred’s leg, making him collapse on top of you.

“Shit sorry there Y/N” Fred said, about to get off you when suddenly his brown eyes locked with yours and his face was millimeters close to yours.

“Um right it’s okay.” You broke away from his gaze and slid away from under him. That stare sure was something though. God why couldnt you get over that boy.

*A few days later*

You were walking down the hall, when you suddenly saw two people making out. Fred and Angelina. God it broke your heart each time you saw them together. And this was one time too many. You dropped your books and ran. 

A huge thunderstorm was going on outside, but you didn’t care. In fact, you liked walking in the rain when you were sad. Another clap of thunder erupted as you started crying, tears mixed with raindrops falling onto your moving feet. You didn’t really know where you were going but you didnt care. What happened to you? A month ago, you were fine. You actually thought you were getting somewhere with Fred. The bam he goes out with Angelina and your world crumbled down around you. You sat down on the wet grass, not even realising you were soaked to the bone.

Footsteps grew clear and you turned your head to see a tall ginger boy running to you. Fuck, it was Fred. He sat down beside you, pulling off his cloak and putting it on your shoulders.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“nothing.”

“No seriously i’m your best friend, tell me whats the matter.”

At this you got up, sobbing even harder.

“Fine you want to know whats wrong?! I’m in love with you! That’s right! I’M.IN.LOVE.WITH.YOU! And no matter how much i dream about us being together, it will never happen because all you see me as is your best friend. And you’re with Angelina. God each time I see you with her I just die a little more inside.! And then i feel bad, because I’m your friend and I should be happy for you two. And just now, seeing you with her. It just kills me.” you finish, your voice breaking.

“You. You love me?” Fred asked.

“Noooo I just invented that whole speech and cried my soul out for the fun of it Fred.” you screamed.

“Well I’m sorry for making sure! God why dyou have to tell me now?! I’m with Ange, things are going well with her!  Ugh this is just the worst timing right now Y/N!” he bellowed back.

You sat back down. After a little while, you looked up at him.

“You think its easy for me seeing you with her? You think with all these feeling in me I can work out the most strategic time to tell you this? you whisper.

He sits back down and puts an arm over your shoulder.

“God, this wasnt supposed to happen. I, I love you. Like a lot. But since we were just stuck being friends, George told me to get over myself and find someone else. I thought I’d be happy with Angeina, you with Oliver and this whole loving you thing would have gone. But it hasnt. I cant deny it anymore, Y/N. I love you.”

“We’re in relationships Fre-

He cut you off by smashing his lips against yours. Your arms flew up around his neck and his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping off your previous tears.

“Lets forget about them.” he whispers.

“They’re forgotten.” you answer and plant your lips against his again.


aaand here i would write that the storm cleared and rainbows and sunshines but thats too cheesy XD ;) lemme know what u thought! ik this was a little bit all over the place but hope u liked it. 

REQUESTS FOR LONG SHIPS, IMAGINES, SMUT, WOULD-INVOLVES AND PREFERENCES ARE OPEEEN

Can u guys tell me what u thought and what u guys want to read next? lovee u

Title: Blind Dates Aren’t That Bad

Words: 2414

Warnings: Sexual Shit (;

Written for Anon 

Author’s Note: Uh, he’s yummy & I’ve been working on this for quite a long time. I didn’t like it the first 8 times I wrote it & there was A LOT of re-writing. Anyways, enjoy!

You rushed into the coffee shop that (y/f/n) told you to go to. She had set you up on a little blind date, she didn’t even bother to give you his name all she said was to show up at 10 and sit in the 3rd booth right across the window. Glancing down at your watch the time read 9:57 so you had just a smidgen of time to spare. You walked into the coffee shop wearing black high waist shorts with a gray daisy crop top that barley showed off your stomach. 

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anonymous asked:

which guy is for love and which is for dna?? cause they both have nice genes

Gaius is for LOVE❤❤ (Though I actually like them both but Fem!MU and Gaius’ support convo is just illegally cute.) Sadly, I know Gaius DNA would work well/needed elsewhere like for Nah? She is one of my favorite 2nd gen in the game. I want her to have everything and become a badass pink dragon that breath hell fire on the battlefield. (Dark filer > Galeforce. Also ginger NAH :DD)

Chrom would be an awesome dad though, both DNA and Love. Plus Lucina and Morgan sibling cuteness! But but then Gaius…. Ginger Morgan…

Sigh…WHY THIS GAME SO HARD sob. Maybe I should just marry Henry? Since my MU’s strength is Magic and a dark mage Morgan sounds amazing! 

sorin  asked:

BNHA? boku no hero academia/ My hero academia. (if you don't watch it then...) Harry Potter! =)

Put a fandom in my ask and I’ll answer:

You’re right I still haven’t start BNHA because I’m weak so….

  • otp: I like many pairings but I wouldn’t call them OTPs 
  • favourite canon pairing: Uuuuuuhhhh…. Definitely have to say the Weasleys were the best XD with their big ginger nest <3
  • worst pairing ever: Harry x Voldemort wtf no more words needed.
  • guilty pleasure pairing: Dramoine <3
  • a pairing you want to see more: I would’ve liked to see some more Harry and Luna interaction.
  • that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”: Harry and Draco LOL I’m so sorry guys but that’s gonna be a no for me.
  • favorite non-romantic pair: The Weasley Twins </3 *runs away to sob in a corner* WHY??

I never realized how much I don’t remember about Harry Potter XD DAMN. You’re ask has enlightened me!!! LOL Thanks :D!!

Midnight Whisperings ~A Joshifer One-Shot~

A/N: *Soft gasp* I wrote something again? Is this real life? Thankfully yes and yes lol! This one-shot is a bit different than my others however, because its origins are more on the depressing side of things.

Jennifer has been crushing me lately, with interviews such as [x] and [x]. And wanting nothing more than for her to be comforted and happy, I decided to write just that. I hope you all enjoy it, especially since I’m on the rusty side of things lol!

And without further adooooo…

Midnight Whisperings

The thoughts consume me. They rob me of sleep. They have me awake at who knows how early, and manifest as tears pricking my eyes.

I know I shouldn’t worry. I’ve been told countless times not to. But I do.

God I do.

It’s one of those nights, one of those terrible off nights, where the weight of my career threatens to crush me. Where I feel so helpless and alone. Where I feel like almost nothing can hoist me away from the ever-creeping fears.

…Almost nothing.

Because in the swallowing darkness, there’s a warmth, a reassurance. There’s someone who is always there for me no matter what happens. There’s someone who can help me overcome the largest obstacles. There’s someone who loves me unconditionally when it seems like no one else will.

And so I reach out to him.

My best friend, my lifeline, my rock, my love.

“Josh?”

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I’m having an emotionally terrible day today, so guess who else gets to have a terrible day.


Steve wakes next to Tony and thinks Something is wrong. For a moment he can’t place it. The tower is quiet. If anyone’s awake, they’re spending their insomnia doing something he can’t hear. And he hears so much. Tony’s heartbeat, following just a millisecond after the bass thrum of his pacemaker. Air whistling through grates and lungs and drafty cracks that exist no matter who hard Tony tries to engineer them away. The sheets are smooth and cool against his skin, but he feels feverish.

He lays staring at the ceiling for a moment and then turns to put his arm over Tony. There’s nothing there. It comes crashing down on him suddenly. Blood and brick and ash and Bucky and Nat quivering beneath him and gunfire and unbelievable pain in his arm. The phantom of it chases up his shoulder and down his spine and his muscles contract, cramping so tightly tears spring to Steve’s eyes.

He doesn’t want to wake Tony, but his body is drawing tighter and tighter and in desperation he bites his lip, feeling blood well up where his teeth are sharpest. With a crippled lurch, he rolls to his left instead and pushes himself up with his good hand. He can see his calves pinching inward, throbbing and spasming with each beat of his heart.

Breath hissing fast through his teeth, Steve manages to plant his feet on the floor and heave himself off the bed. His gait is stiff as an old man’s as he shuffles from the room into Tony’s private living room. It’s chilly, with the air conditioner blowing air over his bare shoulders and the massive windows. When the bedroom door safely closes, Steve lets out a groan and nearly falls to his knees. He never cramped like this, even when he was little. He hasn’t told Tony, but he has theories about it. He wonders if maybe it isn’t his healing factor displacing the energy that would be used for his arm into other parts of his body. He hasn’t told anyone about it. He doesn’t want them to know.


Another spasm races up his spine to his shoulder, contracting what remains of his bicep and tricep until his arm is on fire. He tries to rotate the shoulder, to loosen the muscles that are now rebelling against him, but somehow that just makes it worse. More tears spill down his face and he feels so utterly helpless, so completely powerless in a way that has become foreign to him. The serum was supposed to make his body reliable, even when all his other faculties fail him. And now it’s turned against him to. Maybe Steve Rogers was never meant to be whole and healthy. Maybe Erskine disturbed the universe by trying to fix him.

Steve’s not sure when the tears turn from ones of pain to ones of frustration, but he is aware of the sudden, ginger touch at the base of his neck.

“Steve?”

He huffs out a shuddering sob and tries to wipe his face in his ruined shoulder. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” He can’t look back, but he knows Tony’s not fooled.

“JARVIS did. I’m glad he did.”

Just then, another spasm makes Steve’s muscles clench in, and he hears Tony hiss, just seeing it. “Oh god, Steve. No wonder you… Here.”

Tony’s thumbs and fingers are digging into his neck and back suddenly, and for a moment, it hurts even worse, like being shocked by Thor’s lightning. He wants to buck Tony away, to go and nurse his wounds alone where no one can see this weakness. The team doesn’t need to see this. They don’t need to know. But he knows that would hurt Tony even worse, so he remains, teeth bared against the absolute agony of his rebelling muscles.

He doesn’t know how long Tony works over his back, but eventually, Tony urges him down onto his stomach and starts working over his shoulders and arms, his lumbar, his glutes, thighs, and calves. The cramps ease and then die away. Tony talks the whole damn time. “That’s it. Drop your scapula here. There we go. Much better. Man this is a tough knot. Did I tell you about how DUM-E soldered the face plate to the groin plate a few weeks back? JARVIS says it was an accident, but I think DUM-E was saying something about my thinking processes. What do you think? Hey, we should do team breakfast tomorrow. Might be nice, right?”

On and on he goes, his brilliant mind wandering from topic to topic with not even a tangential relation except in the webs of Tony’s on brain. He sees those connections that Steve doesn’t, and somehow, that makes it better. At last, he’s undone. Limp on the couch, stump hanging off the edge and stretching his pec deliciously. Tony’s just as exhausted and he lays out on top of Steve, cheek to cervical vertebrae.

“Better big guy?” Tony murmurs, press a lily soft kiss to his shoulder blade.

Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell Tony the truth, so he just says. “Yeah. Thanks.”

10

Cookies

This is part of the Destiel Christmas Minibang.  Special thank you to @aayaoistuffs who created the art for this piece.  She is such an incredible artist, so you should all go give her a follow!  Happy holidays!

“Hey mom?  Can Cas come over to help us make the ginger bread house?” 9-year old Dean Winchester glances excitedly at the big box on the counter.  The picture on the front shows a beautiful gingerbread house, each candy perfectly placed and every drop of icing accounted for.

“Sure Dean, why don’t you give him a call while I set it up for you?” Mary takes the box off the counter, walking out of the kitchen and into the dining room where she begins to open the cardboard package.

Dean grabs the phone off the counter, dialing the Novak’s house number (he’s had it memorized since he became friends with Cas in 2nd grade).  “Hi Mrs. Novak,” he says politely when she picks up.

“Hi Dean,” she answers, “How are you?”

“Good, thank you.  May I please speak to Cas?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Novak grins, she knew from the minute she saw the Caller ID that Dean wanted to talk to her son.  She passes the phone to Castiel, who’s sitting on the couch watching some Disney Channel show and waiting for Dean’s call.

“Hello Dean.”

“Heya Cas,” a smile spreads across Dean’s face from just the sound of his best friend’s voice, “wanna come over?  My mom bought a ginger bread house we can do.”

“A ginger bread house?!” Cas says, excited.  He’s never made one of those before, but they always looked so cool.  “I’ll be right over!”

“Awesome, see you in five.”

Castiel hangs up the phone before saying goodbye.  “See ya mom!  Going to Dean’s!” Cas shouts as he slides on his snow boots.

“Will you be back for dinner?” she hollers back, wondering how much chicken she should prepare.

“Not sure, hopefully no,” Cas answers as he slips out the back door, stomping through the snow.  He walks through his own backyard and then through the sideyard of his back neighbor before crossing the street and skipping up Dean’s driveway.  He rings the doorbell twice, waiting impatiently in the cold.

“Cas!” Dean throws the door open, wrapping Castiel in a hug.

“Let me in, would you?  It’s freezing out here,” Cas grumbles, but he can’t deny the warmth that spreads through his stomach when his best friend hugs him.  He comes into the house, stomping the snow from of his boots before pulling them off.

“Hi Castiel!” Mary calls from the dining room, “you boys can come in here.  I’ve got it all set up.”

They walk into the adjacent room to see the table covered in different kinds of candy, pieces of gingerbread, and 3 piping bags of white icing.  “Three?” Dean points to the icing in confusion just as Sam slides into the room.

“Ginger bread!” he cheers as Dean groans in annoyance.

“Sammy’s doing it with us?”

“Yes Dean, behave please.  You can all do different parts so you don’t have to work too much with him,” Mary fixes her older son with a stern look and he nods in resignation.  “Alright, I’ll let you boys get to it.  I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”  And with that, Mrs. Winchester walks out of the room, leaving the boys to their devices.

“Ok Dean, you’re the boss.  What do we start with?” Cas asks, looking excited but slightly overwhelmed.

“The walls, duh.  Haven’t you ever made a ginger bread house before?”

Castiel shakes his head sheepishly.  “No, never.  This is my first one.”

“Your first ginger bread house?!” Dean gasps in shock, “No.  Way.”  Cas nods.  “Well then we’re just going to have to make sure that this one is perfect.”

“Ok,” Cas shrugs.  He doesn’t really care what the house looks like anyway, it’s really about spending time with his best friend.

“Cas, you can handle the walls, right?  That part’s easy.  Sammy can help you.  I’ll do the roof and garden decorations.  This is going to be AWESOME!”  Dean grabs the roof pieces, some bowls of candy, and a piping bag.  Castiel slides the rest of the ginger bread down the table from his best friend, sitting a few seats away, knowing that Dean’s going to want space to spread out.

“Alright Sam, let’s start with the back wall, ok?” Cas beckons Sam to the seat next to him.

“Ginger bread!” Sam reaches for the base piece, mouth opening hopefully.

“No Sam, we can’t eat it!  This is for building.  Mommy can make you ginger bread for eating.”  Cas turns his back to Sam for a few seconds, reaching for the two piping bags near Dean.  He fondly notices that the other boy is sticking his tongue out slightly, fully concentrated on the white line of icing coming out his piping bag.

“Ginger bread!” Castiel hears an excited yelp come from behind him and he turns back to see the base piece broken, one half in Sam’s mouth.

“Sam no!” he pulls the ginger bread out of Sam’s hand, but the damage is already done.

“No ginger bread?” Sam’s bottom lip quivers.

“Well I guess just this one piece couldn’t hurt…” Cas trails off, not wanting to make Sam cry.  He glances back at Dean, but the other boy is still immersed in his frosting.  The base piece isn’t really that important, right?  Castiel takes a small nibble on a corner Sam hasn’t gotten to yet.

“Mmmm,” he hums in surprise.  It’s really really good.  Yeah, one missing piece probably wouldn’t hurt at all.  He hands Sam back one half of the base and then takes the other off the table, sticking the end in his mouth.

“Yay!  Ginger bread!” Sam cheers, munching happily on his piece.  Castiel sneaks a nervous glance at Dean when he finishes his half, but the other boy still isn’t looking.  Another small piece couldn’t hurt, right?  And there’s no way they’re going to use all this candy anyway.  It’s only one gingerbread house after all, not a whole gingerbread village.

When Dean snaps out of his icing trance a half hour later, the table is a gingerbread massacre.  Broken walls and candy canes litter the table cloth.  White icing is smeared across Sam’s face, handfuls of fruit gummies in his small fists.  “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Dean yells, “GET OUT SAMMY!”

Mary’s ears immediately perk up in the kitchen.  “YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!” she hears Dean shout.  Then the sound of Sam crying fills the house and Mary decides that it’s time to intervene.

“Hey, what’s going on,” she says softly as she steps into the dining room, attempting to deescalate the situation.

“SAMMY ATE THE GINGER BREAD HOUSE!”

Mary glances at Sam, noticing the icing on his face.  Then she looks at the mess of nonpareils sprinkled across Castiel’s red sweater.  Maybe Sam wasn’t the only gingerbread-house-eater.  “Dean,” Mary starts, but then she realizes that her older son has tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I just wanted this to be a perfect gingerbread house be - because - “ he hiccups, “it’s Cas’ first and - and - and - Sammy ruined Cassie’s Christmas!“ He dissolves into full blown sobs.

“Dean,” Mary coos gently, “I highly doubt you ruined Castiel’s Christmas.”  Behind Dean, Cas nods in agreement.

“But how do you know?” Dean hiccups loudly, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she suggests, nodding towards Castiel.  Dean turns.

Castiel doesn’t even allow his best friend to ask a question before grabbing Dean’s face.  He squishes their noses together, eyes locking.  “Dean,” he says sincerely, “this is perfect.  Sam didn’t ruin anything.  It’s all perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Dean sniffles.

“Course I’m sure,” Cas pulls away with a smile, “now let’s see that roof of yours.”

Jesse’s girl

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11271625/6/Bechloe-oneshots

__________________________________________________

“Amy have you seen Chlo?” Beca asked, after having searched the house, but finding no sign of the ginger. Beca thought she said she would be packing her stuff, now that they all graduated and were ready to move on.

“No…” The Australian singer replied, shaking her head. “You two are practically married; surely you would know where she usually hangs out.” She added an obvious smirk.

But Beca didn’t…

She had been so busy lately… For all she knew, Chloe didn’t really have a favorite spot. To be quite honest, Beca wouldn’t have a clue of what the ginger did in her spare time besides the Bella’s. She chose to leave it and return to packing her stuff, just as most of the Bella’s were doing at the moment. When she walked into her room her eyes fell on a letter lying on her pillow. “What in the world?” Beca murmured, looking around for anything else suspicious besides the mysterious note. Beca first smelled the letter, which was her usual habit, to see if she was able to catch any scent. It smelled of something so very distinctive, though Beca couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The brunette dismissed it with a shrug, opening the note.

Meet me at the auditorium…

x Anonymous

Beca rolled her eyes. This could be from one person only. Chloe Beale. Chloe always had a sense for drama and with the coincidence that she was missing, who else could it be? Beca took her phone, ready to text the other back to ask her what she wanted, but eventually choose not to. What the hell, it was Chloe… She probably just wanted to spend some time to say goodbye to the place that had been her home for over seven years. Of course they would keep contact, but it would never be like it used to be anymore. No more Chloe to tickle her awake, or to surprise her with breakfast on bed, to watch movies like Grease at one ‘o clock at night, or camping with 9 girls in a tent, at a place that was surrounded by countless bear traps. They were leaving so much behind. This place would become another memory and Beca knew that it would be hard for Chloe to actually move on.

Beca opened the door to the auditorium halfway calling for the ginger to appear. “Chlo… Very funny, but you can come out now! Hide and seek is over…” Beca chuckled nervously. “Chloe?” She knelt to see if the ginger was hiding behind one of the chairs. She sighed. Was it a prank? She sat down in one of the chairs, when she heard some soft rumbling coming from the stage. “Chlo?!” Then music started to play. A pleasant melody of piano chords filling the room with its sound. Chloe had been hiding behind the corner on stage and now walked slowly towards the middle in her hand a microphone. She tried her best to gather as much courage before singing.

Jessie is a friend,

Yeah, I know he’s been a good friend of mine

But lately something’s changed

It ain’t hard to define

Jessie’s got himself a girl and I want to make her mine

Chloe felt a lump her in throat, after all, she was speaking from the heart. There were things she had wanted to tell the brunette a long time ago, but never actually had the courage to do so. But now that they were going their separate ways, what was there to lose right? However, it did concern her that she wasn’t able to read even the slightest reaction from the other.

Beca knew it was about her. She was well aware Chloe loved her, she wasn’t blind or stupid. That night in that tent when they were camping, Chloe had told Beca her biggest regret was she didn’t do enough experimenting during college. Beca totally blacked out so she went with her usual line of 'you’re so weird’, not thinking of how this might be a cruel slap in the face for the ginger. To be quite honest, Beca was confused herself. She knew she had feelings for Jesse, though wasn’t really sure what to call the shiver that crawled down her spine every time she saw Chloe. She always told herself she liked guys only, a 100% heterosexual, but Chloe made her doubt that theory.

And she’s watching him with those eyes

And she’s lovin’ him with that body, I just know it!

And he’s holding her in his arms late, late at night

Chloe swiftly wiped away the tear that had found its way down her cheek, when the other was looking away. She couldn’t stop looking at the brunette. Beca was perfect in her eyes. She always pretended to be a big bad ass, when actually inside she was a big softie. Having met Beca was the best thing that ever happened to her. She deliberately failed her exams three times just so she could be with the dj. Yet she had eyes only for one person. Jesse… What Chloe hated about all of this was that he was actually a nice guy. If he had been an asshole it would have been so much easier to hate him.

You know I wish that I had Jessie’s girl

I wish that I had Jessie’s girl

Where can I find a woman like that?

Beca bit her lip that was now trembling. She tried her best not to make eye contact with the ginger, afraid it would make her burst into tears. Why was this getting to her so much?

I play along with the charade

That doesn’t seem to be a reason to change

You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute

I wanna tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot

“Chloe…” Beca tilted up her head, Chloe’s name rolling from her lips as a soft sob. She wanted the other to stop or she might really start crying soon, but Chloe ignored her weak protest.

'Cause she’s watching him with those eyes

And she’s lovin’ him with that body, I just know it!

And he’s holding her in his arms late, late at night

You know I wish that I had Jessie’s girl

I wish that I had Jessie’s girl

Where can I find a woman like that?

Chloe was barely able to contain herself. Beca buried her face inside her hands, her shoulders shocking every time a sob escaped her lips. Chloe tried to continue singing but failed horrifically. Her hand dropped the microphone she was holding, like it was numb. “Beca… I love you…” She said, her eyes glassy.

“Just stop Chloe… Please…” Beca shook her head, letting out a dry laugh as she didn’t know how to respond to this. “What do you expect me to say?”

Chloe jumped off the stage. “I want to hear it from you. Say that you don’t feel the same way so I can move on.”

Beca sniffed back the tears that threatened to reappear. She laughed nervously, feeling uneasy. The silence was giving her away. She did have feelings for Chloe, but was afraid to show them.

“What does this mean Mitchell?!” Chloe said, raising her voice, almost angry, but it was more a scared feeling. It was all very confusing. Beca rose from her seat, wiping the trail of her tears from her face. She made a run for it, walking in fast pace to the exit.

“NO! You don’t get to walk away from me Beca! You can’t run from this forever!” Chloe ran after the brunette, who did not bother to look back.

“Watch me!” Beca snarled back. She didn’t realize how close the ginger really was. “Wait…” Chloe stood still, her eyes focused on the ground underneath her. “Beca… Please just wait…”

Beca sighed in defeat. She was weak… Whenever Chloe used her voice like that, it was like a commercial for puppy’s that need help. Okay… weird example. “I love you too.” She softly said, loud enough for the other to hear it. “There I said it! Now can I go?”

Chloe’s mouth gaped open. Without a second thinking this trough, she stormed at Beca. Beca’s eyes sprung open, feeling like a deer in the headlights of a car. Chloe practically assaulted the brunette with perhaps a little too much force, making both fall to the floor. Beca took a quick intake of breath, their noses touching. Chloe entangled both hands, making sure she wasn’t going anywhere. To Chloe’s surprise Beca was the one to move up the last few inches so their lips would touch. The kiss filled with a strong hunger for each other. It was both passionate as soft. There was no longer need to be subtle. Beca’s hand trailed down, grabbing Chloe’s ass earning a soft moan to escape the others lips. Chloe demanded dominance and pulled Beca’s hair back, to kiss her somewhat rougher the second time. Beca then knew who was behind that quirky smile, and it made her love for her grow even more. Chloe’s knee found its way up between Beca’s inner thighs making the other moan into her mouth. Beca came to realize what they were doing and pushed Chloe back, escaping the others grip. She sat up straight, her eyes big as well as Chloe’s who couldn’t hold herself from uncontrollable laughing.

“HOLY SHIT.” Beca gasped.

I want the next Doctor to be played by a black/brown haired Irish guy. One with a really thick accent. And after he regenerates his companion will point out his accent and he’ll get really excited because if he’s Irish he thinks he might be ginger too. But then he goes to check a mirror and all you hear afterwards is screams followed sobbing and complaining about how close he was. 

I haven’t written (or rather, published) anything in a long time, so here. Have some Underworld reunion fic. 

She’s sunshine, she’s starlight. Glimmering, shining beauty in the endless void of darkness that swallows him up. This place, this nothingness, is a cold and quiet forever of regrets, of unfinished tasks, of waiting. Death had washed over him in a warm embrace, the pain of mortal wounds fading away, replaced with a gentle warmth like a heavy down blanket. He’d watched the glow of her hair dim to black, heard her sobs mute, only to be left alone in empty eternity.

He is awake now, more awake than ever, the haze of false reality slipping away as sunshine replaces rain, as green eyes pierce through mist. She’s a vision of red leather and blonde hair, slicing through the fog like a beam of welcome light off rocky shoals. She’s speeding down the docks, her footsteps falling quicker as she races toward him. This place is full of cruel tricks, each punishment worse than the last, but seeing her, the bounce of her hair and blush of her cheeks, hearing her faint huff of breath and the following plume of cold smoke puff from her mouth… This was the worst torture of all.

She’s in his arms before he has time to protest, before he can curse the demons who thrust his lost lifetimes in his face and toy with his broken heart. But God, does she feel real. The ginger scent of her hair, the buttery leather of her jacket on his hand, wisps of golden hair tangling in his beard. Even the way her hands wrap around his middle and her sobs muffle against his chest. She feels real. And he hates how easy he is to break.

“I found you.” She says into the wool of his coat, clinging desperately to him, like if she lets go for even just a moment he’ll disappear from her grasp. He wants this, her, the life they didn’t get to live. He wants it all, and he hates this place and how it reminds him constantly of the things he can never have.

Keep reading

Dear F,

When I used to think about you, I’d get a knot inside- twisting its way around my delicate heart and squeezing so tightly. It hurt so bad. What we had wasn’t a relationship. What we had was a despondent friendship-bound together by glimpses of hope and me wondering, “Does he like me as more than a friend?” I know it’s cliché to say you were my best friend, but you were. You were the best guy friend I’ve ever had and I am sorry. I am sorry I was a terrible friend, I am sorry I cried after you told me you didn’t feel the same way about me, I am sorry I kissed you on my driveway on August 13, 2015. I miss the way I felt when I saw you just as a friend. I miss that day we flew home from Guatemala together and we shared ginger ale on the plane and listened to Taylor Swift songs together. I hope you remember that day. My dear, sweet friend, I hope you remember.

I remember with a nostalgic ache the day you called me up, sobbing on the phone saying how you had a really rough day at swim practice and when you saw my simple text afterwards stating how much I cared about you, you broke down. I wanted nothing more than to hug you and hold you and help you stick all those pieces back together inside you.

You told me about how others thought you were gay, you told me about the girls you loved, you told me about how you got along with your mom better than your dad.

You came to me one day with a collection of beach houses on the Oregon coast and said, “Hey, I found a few beach houses for us!” Other people thought we were dating. I thought you liked me. I definitely fell in love with the way your blue-green eyes were so damn expressive.

We saw The Oh Hellos on New Years Eve together and I thought you might kiss me. You didn’t.

You were Homecoming King and I followed suit as Homecoming Queen the year after. I thought we were meant for each other. Our families liked each other, I had known you since the third grade. We went to Sunday School together and I remember when I thought you were an older, “popular” kid who wouldn’t ever talk to me. But you did.

It was your junior year of high school and my sophomore year. I was dating another boy. We had just become friends. I was sitting on my friend’s bed. She was probably painting her fingernails black and we were discussing boys as most typical fifteen year old girls do. She mentioned you. “Hey, he said in P.E. class that he’d like to marry a girl like you.” I responded with, “Ew. That’s gross. I have a boyfriend. He is just a friend to me.”

I was wrong.

I wrote you a letter about how I loved you so. I became brave somehow and gave it to you the summer before you went off to college. We had a picnic up in the Colorado woods a week later and you said, “Sorry, you’re just a friend to me.”

I’ve watched you go from an extraverted, friendly, open 17 year old boy with so much potential, to a 20 year old man who is cold and distant and does things he vowed as a 17 year old he would never do. You told me over this summer how you get along better with your dad than your mom now.

We spent one last day shopping and eating sushi and as you told me you friendzoned me, I felt I had nothing left to lose. You are still a good guy, my dear friend. I know you are. You gave our leftover food to a homeless man that day and you let me pick all the music on our car ride and you still know where your heart should be. It’s just not there yet.

When I asked if I could kiss you, you responded with, “Yes, please.” And as our mouths became familiar with one another, I had a glimmer of hope. Friends shouldn’t kiss how we kissed. You said, “See you sometime.” And drove away.

We don’t talk anymore.

When I used to think about you, I’d feel heartbroken. But now when I hear a familiar Mat Kearney song, I think of you and I don’t feel empty anymore. When I hear someone say, “Oh my lanta!” I think of you and I don’t feel empty anymore. When I smell chlorine, I think of you and I don’t feel empty anymore. My wonderful friend, our time has passed. I understand now. Your journey is no longer connected to my journey and I will forever have our memories. You taught me so much and I don’t see you as a wonderful, precious, extraordinary thing anymore. I can’t idealize you any longer.

You’re just a boy.

And you’re going to be alright. And I’m going to be alright. And maybe we’ll run into each other in an airport or something someday, and we’ll catch up. Remember, my beloved, flamboyant, giving, artistic, talented, forgiving friend, you are loved. “And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.”

Eternally sending my gratitude,

H