i want to count how many times this has been done

Pidge Gets Her Period

I don’t care how many times it’s been done, it’s my turn.

  • We open with Pidge lying on her side on a sofa, glaring miserably at nothing.
  • Keith sits on the sofa across from her, arms crossed in silent solidarity.
  • Lance walks in. 
  • “What’s up with Pidge?” “She’s in pain.” “What, did she eat Coran’s cooking?” “I’m on my period, Lance.” “…oh.”
  • Lance walks out with a thoughtful expression.
  • Pidge and Keith continue their companionable silence.
  • Allura walks in. She’s exceedingly curious about human menstruation and has dozens of questions. 
  • She gets kicked out of the room two minutes later.
  • Meanwhile, Lance has found Shiro, who is tinkering with the castle as faaaaar away from Pidge as he can get.
  • “It sucks that she’s in pain, man.” “I really don’t want to talk about it, Lance.” “I mean at least my sister always had some pain killers on standby.” “Can we change the subject?” “She said the cramps were like having someone scrape the inside of her belly with a meat cleaver.” “I’D RATHER NOT THINK ABOUT PIDGE’S BLEEDING UTERUS LANCE”
  • Lance is quiet for a moment. “I’m gonna go entertain her,” he says.
  • Shiro watches him leave. The door slides shut. He shudders in horror.
  • Back in the Period Room, Coran has been exiled for telling Pidge that a paladin of Voltron could surely handle some measly cramps.
  • All is peaceful. In the background, we hear the sounds of Hunk preparing a meal in the kitchen.
  • Suddenly, Lance’s head emerges slowly from behind Keith’s sofa. He narrows his eyes at Keith. Pidge watches this without a word.
  • Lance produces a random feather and uses it to tickle Keith’s earlobe. Keith tugs at his earlobe, but he doesn’t turn. Pidge smiles.
  • Lance’s head appears again. This time, he gives Keith bunny ears. Pidge coughs to hide a laugh. Keith frowns at her, paranoid, but when he looks behind him nothing’s there.
  • Lance’s head again. This time, an air horn. He raises his eyebrows. Pidge shakes her head as subtly as possible. Lance nods. He counts down with his fingers. Three. Two. Pidge covers her ears. One.
  • AIRHORN NOISE
  • Keith: MOTHER F—- *TACKLES LANCE*
  • Pidge dies of laughter while Keith shakes Lance vigorously and Lance laughs along with Pidge
  • After her cramps have subsided, Pidge thanks everyone for being supportive of her (in their own ways). But she and Lance can’t look at each other without cracking up for at least a week.
heathers songs ft. alternate titles
  • beautiful: Teen Angst™
  • candy store: the mean girls are Petty And Pretty
  • fight for me: dude in trench coat punches a guy and now veronica is scared and horny
  • freeze your brain: 7/11 worship
  • big fun: dang dang diggity danga dang
  • dead girl walking: veronica fucks trench coat guy because she's angry
  • the me inside of me: steamy scene is over now time to murder a pretty girl
  • blue: drunk teenagers want to get laid and fail miserably
  • our love is god: drunk teenagers want to get laid and fail miserably, this time featuring murder
  • my dead gay son: gay dads mourn their gay sons
  • seventeen: jd you done fucked up
  • shine a light: why hasn't this teacher been fired yet
  • lifeboat: heather mac deserves better
  • shine a light (reprise): heather duke deserves to be punched in the face
  • kindergarten boyfriend: laughing and sobbing at the same time
  • yo girl: this song on an infinite loop describes anxiety pretty well
  • meant to be yours: jd doesn't know how to count to three
  • dead girl walking (reprise): congratulations, you played yourself
  • i am damaged: boom boom motherfucker
  • seventeen (reprise): the evil has been banished
settle down | (m)

• pairing: min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi
• genre/warnings: smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers
• words: 14,930
→summary: An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…
• note. this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

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Someone: Why are you still into that fandom when you don’t like that show anymore? - Me: Have a seat, this may take a while...

This is all from a fandom that had our ship for 2 years. #LookWhatWe’veDone

Lexa was the one for her.” “Lexa was her soulmate.” “Lexa was the love of her life.” “Clarke will never love anyone the way she loved Lexa.” “Clarke will always be grieving Lexa.” - Eliza Taylor (Clarke Griffin herself). Clexa didn’t just kiss, they didn’t hook up, they made love. Doesn’t get more canon than that :) 

It’s more than a fandom, it’s the lgbtq community. Multiple full size billboards were put up, bringing attention to the “Bury your gays” trope. Unlike others who only think about themselves, we actually did something positive in the real world to benefit the lgbtq community, we helped raise over $162,500 in charity for the Trevor Project. We got the television industry to recognize their use of tropes and inspired The Lexa Pledge by showrunners to do right by their LGBT audience. We got “LGBT Fans Deserve Better” trending worldwide, staying in the top 10 for hours with over 276K tweets.

We trended worldwide 55 times in the weeks following Lexa’s death. Fans from all around the globe were devastated. “Lexa Deserved Better” spread across the world with hundreds of fans sharing their pictures from more than 200 cities and over 55 countries.

We dominate in the polls, there’s no other way to describe our 47 poll wins so far, and 7 more polls we’re currently leading. Did I mention we only had our ship for a total of 15 episodes, plus the fact that alot of these polls were won with “half our ship dead” as haters like to point out… just shows how powerful Clexakru is because we continue to win even with fandoms teaming up against us Lol It’s been nearly a full year since Lexa died and we’re still winning polls :D

Me: Okay Google, what is “extra”? - Google: The Clexa Fandom.

Yes, we legit made up an entirely new character, Elyza Lex, and ship her with Alycia’s character on Fear, Alicia Clark, to make our spinoff ship Lexark and dubbed the show “Queer the Walking Dead”. Working with the Clexa material we got in the short time span, we built an empire on fanfics, fanart, comics, etc, created by some of the most talented fans. Plus all of the character social media accounts, if you’re not following @confusedlexa on Twitter you are seriously missing out :D Meanwhile we made Jason Rottenassberg’s follower count drop faster than The Loo ratings. The outrage at The Loo isn’t just limited to our fandom, it’s shown by the many articles written labeling The Loo as one of the worst shows of 2016. It’s days before the season premier and the public is still dragging the show, it’s won polls for Biggest Disappointment”, “Show You Gave Up On”, and more… talk about karma ;) Eliza’s openly asked fans for Clexa fic recs and admitted that her mother has a Lexark picture in her home. We really couldn’t have a more dedicated Captain of the Bitanic, a year later she’s still the biggest Clexa shipper <3 As if that wasn’t enough, how many characters have such an iconic look that they got their own SnapChat filter and Sims makeup? And to top it all off, we have a star, a real star in the sky!

With just 2 brief mentions, we made Costia into more than just a name, we brought her to life, unofficially decided to cast Nathalie Emmanuel for the role, and headcanon Lexa’s first love as a beautiful sapphic woman of color

We have Elycia, Eliza & Alycia, BFF’s in real life. Without them, we wouldn’t have Clexa. Alycia’s moved on to a better show, like many other cast members have done. Eliza will move on to bigger and better things as well when The Loo gets cancelled and she’ll finally be free from all the … “shit” ;)

Clarke Griffin, Wanheda, The Ambassador of the 13th clan, Klark kom Skaikru, Fleimkepa, Leader of the ungrateful sky brats <3 “You bring them justice.” “I know you’re just trying to help.” - Lexa to Clarke“Clarke elevates herself… she’s special.” - Lexa to Titus about Clarke. Lexa was the only person who never berated, belittled, or blamed Clarke.

Lexa, Heda, The Commander of the 12 clans, Leksa kom Trikru, Soulmate of Clarke Griffin, also known as Alexandria Woods in fanfics <3 “I want you!”, “I love you.”- Clarke to Lexa. “We loved her.”- Aden to Clarke about Lexa. The girl who was taught “love is weakness”, was loved by many.

*Those great Clarke and Lexa gifs were made by @amgirl01

This is just too amazing not to include, check out @miselizasjane Grounders trailer. Things like that are why I’m so into this fandom and always will beI have other wlw ships, some of them I really love and have shipped for years, some more recently. But none of them mean more to me than Clexa, I’ll always be Clexakru, because it’s about so much more than just a ship or a show.

 #ClexaIsLegendary #We’reStillHere #NoOtherFandomCouldEver 

*Credit to - @lgbtfansdb / @lgbtvdb-why-it-matters / @lexadeservedbetter-ww  / @thecatsbian / @clexarikleimt / @clexacon / @luxysims / @clexasource / @debnamcelery (twitter) 

On the concept of Soulmate AUs

You know what I’m tired of? Soulmate AUs with the protagonist/antagonist ship as the main pairing that always has the villain who reacts the best to the situation, and the hero freaking out.

What I want to see is a hero who gets it, who understands that yeah, their soulmate may kind of be a murdering psychopath, but that’s cool, they can deal with that, they can live through it, but what’s not cool is them totally looking the other way and avoiding the hell out of them.

Give me the realisation that they’re soulmates in the middle of a fight, when they’re bloody and bruised and tired and they just slip, skin on skin contact, and then the whole world just shifts into place.

“This can’t be happening.”

“Have you every heard of opposites attract?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“But- Okay, yeah, we’re doing this.”

Give me a brutal fight that ends with a “Since when do my attacks hurt this much?” and the villain slowly realising that they can’t kill themselves out of this situation, that they can’t escape this because they’re soul bonded to a kid with a hero complex who is constantly trying to thwart them and is now for some reason grinning at them like a lunatic because they supposedly belong together. And damn does suddenly being able to feel emotions and pain that wasn’t his sting, because he has enough shit to deal with on his own without the added pressure, thanks.

Give me snarky comments and miniature fights in the middle of the night when the hero catches the antagonist coming back from who knows where, bloody and in pain and maybe a little too bust up, to say they won the fight.

“You usually look happier to see me.”

“You killed someone this morning.”

“What gave it away?”

“You mean besides the fact that you’re covered in blood and I felt every moment of it?”

Give me the villain slowly getting used to the idea that hey, they’re sort of going to have to put up with this little ray of sunshine for a while even though he kind of hates his guts and wants to kill him, but also give me the villain wondering what they ever did to deserve this. What could they possibly have done that was so great, so obscenely terrifyingly amazing that they could be soul bonded to a person like this, someone so innocent and righteous and downright beautiful that half of it seems like a mad dream?

“Not every bad guy has a tragic past.”

“But you do. I’ve seen it.”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“That would be counterproductive to what we’re doing here.”

“…”

“That hurt you as much as it hurt me.”

“Worth it.”

Give me tempers flaring and bristling arguments and the hero getting so tired, but still carrying on, not because they think that there’s some good in the antagonist or because they think they can change them, but because this is their soulmate, the person that the fates chose for him, his other half, someone that he had to protect and look after and love, because if not him, then who else was going to?

“I am going to hurt you. I’m going to rip out your intestines and strangle you with them.”

“You’ve been pretty good today. That’s three less death threats than yesterday.”

“Prepare to have your balls removed with a butcher’s knife and shoved down your throat, asshole.”

“I’m still counting this as progress.”

Give me the antagonist not realising the reality that this isn’t someone who wants something from him, who wants to change him, use him, abuse him, but rather someone who just wants to be with him, love him. Give me an antagonist who can’t understand the concept that somebody might actually care.

“I thought this was what you wanted! The sex, the cuddling, the stupid hand-holding. What more could you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Yes you do. They always do! Just tell me what you want and you can have it. Just leave me alone, please. I can’t take this anymore.”

“I want you to trust me, to believe me when I say that I love you.”

“You’re only saying that because of the bond.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve seen everything that you have, felt what you feel, heard what you’ve heard. Maybe at first, a little, it was just because of the bond, but then I fell in love with you, the real you, the one behind all the fronts that you put up.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t expect you too, but you will, one day. I’m not giving up on you.”

Give me the hero facing shit from their friends and family, because they don’t understand why they’re trying so hard and putting up with so much shit, even though he’s his soulmate, but the hero just shrugging and smiling because they get it, and it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t.

“He threatens to brutally mutilate you constantly.”

“I like to believe it’s how he expresses his affections.”

“He tried to kill you so many times.”

“There was only the once after we found out about the bond, though.”

“You’re making excuses now.”

“It’s just that there’s so much anger in him, all of the time. I don’t know how anyone could live like that. I want to help him.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“That’s not my biggest concern anymore. He is.”

Give me a hero who tries so, so hard, and a villain who, despite everything, slowly gives in. Give me quiet nights laid in bed or watching the stars, no words and only their hands touching, just the sensation of palm against palm enough. Give me heated arguments, rage, unsteady headiness at the realisation that they’re not going to leave each other, no matter what happens.

Give me a soulmate AU where the hero doesn’t react badly, isn’t scared or hateful that their soulmate is their arch nemesis, the big bad guy, the villain they can never seem to get rid of, because really they should have expected that all along. Because no one hates that much without there being a little something more behind it.

Kisses {Harry Styles Smut}

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N
RATING: R lol
WORD COUNT: 10k y’all!!!
REQUESTED: nope !

this is my longest one shot, it took up like 20 pages on microsoft word lmfao !! anyways it took me a bit longer than usual bc i went through a slight block (rip) but it is finished and i’m quite proud of it!! feedback is much appreciated, it rly motivates me!! ok that’s it i hope u enjoy :-)

~*~ 

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Humans are weird

Ok, getting on the humans are weird bandwagon….

It surprises me that we haven’t talked about the most obvious thing: humans imagine things. Humans outright make shit up. (Like these posts?) Human stories often aren’t retellings of things that actually happened. Art often isn’t a depiction of true events. Humans - for want of a better word - humans sublimate. They transform their experiences into outlandish non-reality for each others’ amusement.

It takes forever for first contact to start because the aliens planning it keep getting confused by first radio, then television. Some of these depictions can’t be possible - but which ones? The first time War of the Worlds reaches the Kuiper belt, someone panics and has to double check that a more aggressive group hasn’t actually invaded.

After humans are finally integrated into galactic culture, some issues crop up.

“Did you clean the waste facility?” the Janitorial Supervisor asks.

“Well, I would have,” the human starts, then proceeds to tell an outrageous story about a cleaning bot with a knife strapped to its back which has the entire crew searching the ship for hours. The entire crew except for the humans.

The Captain finds the humans “searching” the self-poisoning cabinet in one of the crew quarters.

“Oh my god,” the First Officer says, on seeing the Captain’s dust-speckled upper ears. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you really fell for that. Stabby is a cryptid, Harold!”

The Captain’s name is not Harold, but that is another, even longer story.

The Captain exhales. “What is a cryptid?”

The assistant medical officer sits up straighter, his drink sloshing dangerously. The Captain has learned what “a gleam in his eye” means and how to detect it. They sit, resigned. There’s no escaping now.

An hour later, the Captain explains the concept of cryptids in considerably less detail to the embarrassed and confused Supervisor. Along with the concept of lying.

“But how do you know the difference?” the Supervisor asks, wringing their tentacles in mixed embarrassment and worry.

“Find another human,” the Captain advises. “Check for signs of mirth.”

This turns out to be prescient, because on their next planetary stop, two of the human field officers come running back into the base camp, out of breath and without the rest of their scouting team.

“Nasty buggers with teeth!” one gasps. Though the other officers appear skeptical, the Captain glances at the First Officer, who is already setting down her meal and grabbing her favorite flamethrower. The assistant medical officer yanks his kit straps over his shoulders, face grim.

“Arm yourselves,” the Captain tells the rest.

It takes about four hours, but they get everyone back more or less intact. The humans change the sign in the rec room on the ship to read: “Us: 6, Them: 0″. There is a ritual raising of liquor-filled glasses, even by the injured who are forbidden self-poisoning. The Captain begins temporary hibernation very relieved that humans are so willing to count other species as “us”.

When they ask the First Officer about it two cycles later, the First Officer looks confused, then knowing.

“My great grandmother remembers when you first showed up. They picked your people for first contact for a reason, didn’t they?”

“We look the most like you.”

“Yeah, well, that was a bad call. Gran says humans debated for months whether or not you were just other humans with good prosthetic makeup.”

The Captain blinks at this. “Most peoples are shocked and upset to learn the rest of the sentient universe does not share their appearance. Wait.” They pause. “Is that why we had so many applicants for the Janitorial position?”

The First Officer ignores that, as she usually does when the Captain doesn’t really want to know the answer.

“Do you know why cryptids exist? Why horror and violence and monsters exist in our stories?” she asks instead.

The Captain twitches both sets of ears ‘no’. “It seems unnecessary to frighten yourselves over things that don’t exist.”

“But nasty buggers with teeth do exist, even if we haven’t met them yet,” she says grimly. “And we were ready, weren’t we?”

It’s true. The humans on board have been terrifyingly adaptable, even in their violence.

The Captain feels their way carefully. “You think about things that don’t exist… sometimes even things that distress and terrify you… so that you can be ready when you face real things that distress and terrify you?”

“See, this is why you’re the Captain, Harold.” The First Officer slaps their shoulder hump cheerfully, careful to avoid the spines. “And better yet, we share the things we imagine with each other. It’s like a mental vaccine.”

“And it works?”

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not perfect. Sometimes we don’t mark our vaccines properly, or don’t realize we’re adding things we didn’t mean to. Some of them have a bad effect on some people, for various reasons. But we joined the galactic community in less than a generation. Has any other species ever done that?”

“You imagined us before you met us.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

Sexting (Jimin smut)

Originally posted by minblush


Summary: On a lonely night, you decide to sign up for an anonymous sexting site. Of course you are matched with the notorious fuckboy you’re constantly trying to avoid. Park fucking Jimin.

Themes: Sexting, Fuckboy Jimin, College AU.

Pairing: You x Jimin

Word Count: 4k

This fic contains: Explicit and graphic depictions of smut, sex over the phone, swearing. 


ENTER USERNAME:

Cleopatra123

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?

Male/Female

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I’d rather not say/enter here:

WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN?

Decent conversation/making friends/finding a language buddy/other

PLEASE INDICATE YOUR AGE PREFERANCE:

19-24

CLICK ‘CHAT’ TO BE MATCHED WITH A PARTNER!

YOU HAVE BEEN MATCHED WITH ‘THOR562’.

THOR562: 21 years old- Seoul, South Korea- also interested in ‘other’.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHAT?

Yes/No

YOU ARE NOW IN A CHAT WITH THOR562, ENJOY!


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Whiteboard. Destiel, canon!verse, 1.3k. 
When you fail to say the words, there’s always the option to write it down.

For a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room.

Cas often sees Dean use it; to organize clues for cases that he and Sam can’t quite solve, and to write down reminders, or to simply rearrange his thoughts. And, on rare occasions, to draw silly doodles to help him get his mind off of whatever supernatural disaster is next on the agenda.

Currently, aforementioned board is empty though, and Cas stares a hole in it, sitting on Dean’s bed, arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Dean is there too, right beside him, lying on the other side of the bed, his back to Castiel, his shoulders tense. There might as well be some sort of invisible wall between them, and Cas absolutely hates it. Hates it whenever they fight like this, and what makes it even worse is that Dean refuses to talk. Whenever they have an argument he’ll snap at Castiel, once maybe twice, but after that, it’s usually the silent treatment.

And it makes Castiel feel powerless every time, because how can you fix something when you don’t even get a chance to plead your case?

Dean isn’t sleeping, Cas can tell from his breathing, harsh and uneven. Which must mean that Dean doesn’t like this either, and just like that, inspiration strikes.

“Dean?” Cas mutters quietly, but not unkindly.

A grunt from the other side of the bed.

“I know you’re angry, I know you’d rather not talk, but I thought that maybe…” Castiel pauses, trying to figure out which words to choose. “I thought that maybe we could write it down.”

There’s a huff from Dean, and Cas doesn’t know what to make of that, but he refuses to give up now. Slowly, he gets up from the bed, shuffling towards the whiteboard. He picks up one of the markers, a blue one, and starts writing.

He hears Dean move on the bed, probably getting up as well, and that’s what Cas had been counting on; Dean’s curiosity getting the best of him.

When Cas is done he puts down the marker, his eyes scanning the message one last time.

‘I apologize for what I did yesterday, I’m sorry I went after those rogue angels by myself without telling you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into my problems, and I feared it wasn’t safe for you to come with me. Which you would have, had I told you before I left.’

He hears a muffled sigh behind him, and he’s surprised to see Dean already standing right there. Dean rolls his eyes as he reads the message, but his face relaxes, and the green of his eyes is softer now. After a long moment, he theatrically picks up a marker as well, the green one, giving Castiel that face that says 'do we really have to do this?’

But Dean does it anyway, and writes a reply, the Dean Winchester way that Cas knows so well.

'I want you to drag me into your problems, you idiot, it’s not like I don’t drag you into mine. PS: you forgot to apologize for the part where you almost got killed. PPS: fine, apology accepted. Don’t ever do that again.’

Keep reading

The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

anonymous asked:

do you know any good altean!lance and galra!keith fics??

ohhhkayyy, god damn, like tumblr crashed on me as I was like 3 fics away from finishing this so I had to like start all over, like rip me.

and, I don’t have many altean lance fics so most of this is galra Keith and pretty much all angsty. I tried to find some less angsty ones, I don’t know how well I succeeded xD.

Note: I’ll be starting weekly fic recs in April. just and fyi~


Warmth by Rahar_Moonfire

Summary: Lance is Allura’s younger brother. During the mission to retrieve the Red Lion from Galra hands, he gets captured. His guard is a curious Galra halfbreed named Keith who may just be his ticket to freedom. He’s a bit small for an alpha, but Lance is sure he can handle it. A little flirting never hurt anyone after all. The fact Keith is good looking for a Galra and those ears wiggle (so cute!) doesn’t influence this decision. Nope. Not one bit.
Series: 4 Works
            Work 1 WC: 61497 (19/19)
            Work 2 WC: 111883 (32/32)
            Work 3 WC: 133875 (42/42)
            Work 4 WC: 71480 (21/?)
Notes: THIS IS LIKE THE ONLY FIC I HAVE WITH ALTEAN!LANCE AND GALRA!KEITH. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. gahgldfkjhsa;d, ok so this is just an amazing series, some nsfw tossed in btw, youve been wared. but over all, i just love this series so much and i need to like catch really bad… i didnt know work3 or 4 even existed… >.< 11/10

Echoes of the Past by Gigapoodle

Summary: It was his fault. He shouldn’t have retreated – he should have ran after them, Galra forces be damned, and ripped the red paladin right out of his weaponized hands, shooting the commander dead on the spot.But he hadn’t. Lance stood there, frozen with adrenaline and fear, before backing out with tears in his eyes, justifying it to himself by saying, ‘he won’t get far, we can easily get him back once I have Voltron with me.’He’d forgotten they didn’t have Voltron. He’d forgotten that without Keith, Voltron was nothing.Keith is Galra. Keith is gone. Keith is Galra. Keith is gone.
WC: 28197
Notes: -hands over some tissues- here you will need these. 100/10

I Was Born A Lion by spectralPhobia

Summary: After Keith discovers he is part Galra and Red lion rejects him, there’s only one way he can make himself useful: to join Galra and try to wreck them from the inside, while figuring out a relationship with a guy who turns out to be his biological father.
A comic about one stubborn man’s self-discovery, the challenges of spying, everyone in team Voltron being BAMF, and the universe that needs saving, as usual.
WC: comic, so no words counted by AO3 (11/?)
Notes: Galra Keith because Thace is some kinda of scientist? Uhm yes please. 10/10

your claws in me by burlesquecomposer

Summary: “Oh trust me. When I’m done with you, I won’t be able to stop laughing,” Lance says lowly, and his lips curl farther, and there’s something wild in his stare, and it hits Keith suddenly.This isn’t Lance.
Lance falls under the control of Zarkon’s Druids, and although his friends manage to get him back, nothing is quite the same. Maybe the Galra succeeded after all. Maybe the Galra merely wanted to tear Team Voltron apart from the inside.
WC: 49072 (12/12)
Notes: Rip Lance tbh, this is like really angsty and my heart breaks for Lance. but yes, galra keith is there to save the day~ 10/10

This House Unfinished by boyghosts

Summary: “Concept,” Lance said, his voice heavy and gutted with the ache of it; he caught Keith’s gaze and smiled wide, for show. “The war’s over. We’re back home. All the things we love in one place.”Lance keeps losing the things he’s built. Then there’s Keith.
WC: 30776
Notes: -cackles- have some tissues my friend 100/10

Dancing Lion, Painted Wings by genericfanatic

Summary: Years after peace has been made between the Galran and Altean kingdoms, The witch Haggar comes for vengeance. The young symbol of peace, the half-galran, half-altean Prince Kalor is lost. His aunt, Princess Allura, and his bodyguard, Shiro, are heartbroken.10 years later, an orphan named Keith sets out on his own, trying to find the key to his past. All he has to help him is a small figurine with a cryptic message, a friendly engineer, a technician and her friendly robot, and a cocky con man with a mysterious, yet familiar past.
WC: 35154 (14/14)
Notes: the anastasia au everyone talks about. and like galtean keith gives me life, but conman Lance gives me more. 10/10

It Takes a Village by Zemmiphobia

Summary: One decision by an injured soldier changes not only the fate of the universe, but the fate of her young son.
WC: 18010 (6/6)
Notes: Smol Keith is like my fav, hes so cute in this. and Ulaz being a dad just heals my heart, like bless. 11/10

Ashes, Ashes by vagrantBreath

Summary: Everyone knew their kitten was destined for something greater.No one guessed it was Voltron.
WC: 26639 (20/20)
Notes: Keith raised by the BoM technically makes him Galra right? xD Hahah no, he does have ties, but yeah i love this, hes a sheltered little shit and its great. 9/10

Purple Marks and Bleeding Heart by TeaParade

Summary: Mark #223-code-violet, Lance’s newest job, is not what the sniper signed up for when he joined team Voltron, a specialist group designed to take out the universe’s worst of the worst. This mark shouldn’t be any different from the other Galra, but he is. And Lance is having a very hard time.
WC: 52377 (12/?)
Notes: Sniper Lance and Galra Keith. literally one of my fav pairings. like straight up (tho nothing about this is straight in any sense really) 11/10

To See Blue Skies by BoyBitingDemon

Summary: He scoffed as he watched the fight below, the crowds going wild at the two fighters in the arena. They had such poor taste for entertainment these days.He heard a small sound of amusement from the one sitting next to his standing form, ever vigilant.“As if you were any better your first time in the arena.” They murmured under their breath, a small smile sneaking onto their face, pupiless gold eyes focused on the fight below, but their attention solely on the person standing guard next to him.“I must have have been somewhat impressive to catch the eyes of a certain prince now wasn’t I?"The prince snuck a glance towards the taller, whose face was hidden behind the helmet they wore."You caught a lot more than just my eye that’s for sure.”
WC: 5947 (4/?)
Notes: i,, just love this fic? Like Galra Prince Keith and Champion Lance, you can’t really get much better than this. 10/10

If Only I Could Cry TheSlytherinMudblood

Summary: Galra biology differs from human biology in many ways. For example, Galra are purple. They have yellow eyes. The mammalian ones are able to purr.They also lack tear ducts.
WC: 586
Notes: this is short and sweet (read angsty sorry not sorry) 8/10

The Master of Disguise by NireYllek

Summary: “Wait, what that doesn’t make any sense.” Hunk protested.Pidge shook her head with a tsk. “It does if one of us is disguised as Allura.”Pidge flashed a smirk in Lance’s direction. “I’m sorry, why are you looking at me?” Lance protested. Something in Keith’s brain clicked, he looked at Lance and then at the Princess.Put a little make up on him, a wig, and a dress and he could- OH my god.
WC: 33596 (6/6)
Notes: Tbh, this made me giggle so much. Lance dressed as Allura and Keith and his gay awakening™ just give me life ok. 10/10

Seeking Paintings | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You, a muggle-born artist, have been hiding your feelings for Draco Malfoy for years now. Though, after an unplanned meeting in the astronomy tower things between the two of you start to change. Even more so after finding each other in the Room or Requirement.

Word Count: 3,573

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: not my gif credit to owner


You stare out into the vast horizon from the astronomy tower. This was your favorite hideout during your free period. You much rather enjoyed the view when it was light outside. Sure you love astronomy class and looking up at the stars but this was just different. Better.

You pulled out your old, hard-cover, weather-beaten sketch book and began to draw the landscape before you. You made sure to grasp and add every detail to your drawing. You began shading in the sunset when you heard a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a rotten tone and you already knew who it was.

“You don’t own the astronomy tower, Draco,” you say blandly while continuing your work.

“You know this is were I go in my spare time,” you hear him huff.

“I know,” you blush, hoping he doesn’t know that besides the view one of your favorite part of this spot is that it’s that it’s his spot too. Then again, how would he even know that, it’s not like you two are exactly close.

You hear him start to walk away and your heart sinks. Just once you’d like him to stay up here when you’re here. Maybe then, you too could become close. You’d had this battle with having a crush on Draco since first year. Now here you are, sixth year and the most interaction between you two is fighting over the astronomy tower.

“You know you can stay right?” You boldly say. You swallow hard when you hear him stop in his tracks.

You hear his footsteps begin again but this time coming back towards you.

He sits a few feet from you, “Just don’t expect me to talk to you.”

You just smile and shake your head continuing to look down at your sketch book. For a few minutes you two stay like this, you drawing, him (probably) thinking. You wonder what could be going on in his head, he seemed to be thinking pretty deeply.

You feel him inching towards you at a snail’s pace, from the corner of your eye you can see him watching you draw everything from here to the horizon. You hate yourself for the blush creeping up on your face, by the time he’s within a foot of you your face is bright red.

“Why are you blushing?” You look up at him and see he’s smiling, a genuine smile.

Because I’ve been hiding my massive crush on you for nearly six years.

“I just get embarrassed at people watching me work,” you shrug.

“Why?” He asks seeming genuinely interested. “You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” you’re blush gets even deeper.

You break eye contact and look back down at your sketchbook. The rest of the period is made up with you finishing your sketch and Draco watching intently. He’s completely mesmerized at how you can just see an image and recreate it perfectly on your page.


It’s Saturday and you aren’t needed nor expected anywhere, which is why Saturdays are your favorite days. You usually spent these days roaming around looking for inspiration for a new art piece. Which is exactly how you plan to start today.

You roam the school grounds aimlessly, constantly moving your head around to grasp every aspect of the school. You step into the one of the many courtyards and feel inspired to sketch it, until you realize you’ve already done that… Ten times…

You sigh and realize that after six years of constantly working in the same space it’s going to be hard to find a completely new area for your art. Just this year and the following before you can finally start travelling and finding more inspiration worldwide.

In your attempts to find a new spot you’re again not looking forward. causing you to slam right into someone.

“Hey, watch where- oh, hey Y/N,” you hear Draco’s voice quickly turn from intimidation to delight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you ramble.

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs at how cute he thinks you are when you ramble.

A blush creeps onto your face, “Well, I best be going.” As you turn to walk away he grabs your wrist and turns you back to face him.

“Hey, are you going to the Quidditch match today?” He inquires.

“Um I wasn’t really planning on it,” you scratch the back of your neck.

“Oh,” his face slightly falls. “Well, I’d like it if you went,” he says his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Even though you’d be rooting for Y/H and not Slytherin,” he looks at the ground.

“I mean I probably should go, it's sixth year and I haven’t gone to a single match,” you shrug and he looks at you dumbfounded.

“Not a single match? Well, you definitely have to go now,” he laughs and so do you.

“Well, I guess you can count on me being there,” you say before turning and walking away. You look over your shoulder, “And I guess I can root for Slytherin just this once,” you wink and quickly face forward as your face turns crimson red. A crazy amount of adrenaline must’ve been rushing through you for having the courage to wink at Draco Malfoy.


You take a seat in Y/H’s section for the Quidditch match, all your housemates do a double take when they see you arrive. Which were followed by ‘finally’, 'it’s about time’, 'I didn’t even know you knew how to get here’ and more sayings around those lines.

You don’t know to much about Quidditch, especially since you’re a muggle-born. Not that you know much about muggle sports either. Your friends have explained the game to you many times, you got the logistics but you just didn’t know why it was such a big deal. Maybe you’ll actually figure it out through watching a match.


Draco rose up into the air on his broomstick to prepare for the start of the game. On his way up he scanned the crowd for you and a smile creeps onto his face when he sees you sitting in Y/H’s section. He can tell you look slightly out of place in the stands and is glad to see you actually showed up. He keeps up the hope that you’re actually here for him.

He has been trying to convince himself since second year that he doesn’t have feelings for you. That he could never have feelings for a muggle-born. Except as he’s grown older through his school years he’s realized that muggle-borns aren’t that bad. He’s realized he was just told to think that way, not that he actually believed it.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the blow of the whistle signaling the beginning of the game. Slytherin immediately takes hold of the Quaffle and manages to score within the first minute. A chorus of boos and angered shouts comes from Y/H’s section. Draco looks over to see you remaining silent among your peers. He smiles, hoping you may be rooting for Slytherin…for him…silently. Even if you’re not, at least you aren’t booing.

Draco circles around the field, scanning for the snitch. He’d be lying to say that he wasn’t losing his interest in Quidditch, squinting into the distance searching for a flying ball of gold gets boring after awhile. Of course, he didn’t know if the sport itself was actually starting to bore him or the stress recently rested upon him was making him lose interest in the things he loves. Apparently stress can do that. 

He sees a flicker of gold in the distance, shocked at how early on he’s spotted it he doesn’t fully believe he saw it. That is until he sees the seeker for Y/H dive in the direction of the flash of gold. He quickly follows and the two chase after the golden blur, neck and neck. Draco shoves the other seeker, causing him to spin off course and leaving Draco to be the only one in pursuit of the snitch.

He’s extremely close, he takes a hand off his broom and reaches towards the snitch. He feels cold metal on the pads of his fingers, he just needs to get a grip around it. Almost…

Wham!

He’s nearly knocked off his broom as pain seers through his ribcage. He got hit with a bludger milliseconds before he could grab the snitch. He holds a hand over his ribcage and groans in pain. He rises back into the air to find he’s near Y/H’s section. He looks over at you and you mouth to him, 'Are you okay?’. He nods and manages to give you a faint smile as reassurance.

When he starts to move upward he hears many whispers, “Did Draco Malfoy the Draco Malfoy just smile?”, “Did he smile at you, Y/N?”, “Is there something going on between you two?”, and things of that nature.

He looks back in your direction to see your cheeks turning pink while multiple people start to question you. Though more importantly he sees a smile on your face at the thought of people thinking something is going on between the two of you.

Suddenly, his interest for Quidditch returns. Except rather than loving the sport, wanting to be the best, and move towards winning the House Championships, his goal and motivation to win comes from you. He wants to impress you, and suddenly he finds himself squinting at the field and scanning it as if his life depended on it.

Ten minutes pass with no sign of the snitch. Y/H is currently in the lead, sixty-twenty. Draco continues to scan the field, keeping an eye on the other seeker to see if they look to be in pursuit. He finds himself glancing over at you often as well, trying to make sure you aren’t growing bored. Good thing he’s doing this because it is when he shifts his eyes to you that he spots the snitch once again.

This time determined to get he speeds off in the directions of the flicker of gold. He soon gets close enough that the snitch is hardly a blur anymore. He stretches out his arm when he feels someone bump his side, not strong enough to knock him off his path though. It’s Y/H’s seeker, Draco gives them a menacing stare before turning his eyes back to the snitch. The two race around the field with their arms reaching towards the snitch, they’re neck and neck. Draco, determined to win, jerks his hand out so roughly he fears he might’ve dislocated his shoulder. It would be worth it though, he feels his hand close around the snitch.

He slows down and waves the snitch above his head, wearing a proud smile. The rest of the Slytherin team flies over to congratulate him. He hardly notices their presence as he starts to look for you, to see your reaction. His smile fell, you weren’t in the spot you had previously been in. You weren’t anywhere to be seen.

A look of disappointment washes over Draco’s face as he moves back to the ground. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Did you just not care enough to stay? Did you leave because Slytherin won? Was it foolish of him to think you were here for him? He was disappointed that he ever let that thought into his head.


The rest of the Slytherins were celebrating in their common room, but Draco was in no mood for a party. Though every time he tried to move towards the dorms one of his friends would pull him back to the center of the crowd.

“Dude, what up with you,” Blaise leans onto Draco. “You know you can’t vanish from a party after a win.”

Vanish.

He hadn’t been to the room of requirement in ages. If he was already disappointed with himself he might as well make it even worse by working on that cabinet.

“I actually have to go do something,” Draco mutters before peeling away from the crowd, this time being successful.

He begins the journey from the dungeons all the way to the seventh floor, left corridor. Constantly, he finds himself dodging behind corners at the sight or sound of a teacher. When he makes it to the entrance of the Room of Requirement unscathed he begins to pace and think deeply about what he needs.

I really need to work on this cabinet. If I don’t fix it in time I’ll probably get myself and my family killed. To work on this cabinet though I’m really going to need some privacy. No one else should be able to go in or out. I really just need to be alone, even though I’d rather be talking to Y/N, figuring out why she left the natch early… But I really need to go work on this cabinet in private.

He thinks to himself, allowing him access to the room. He steps inside and begins to make his way to the vanishing cabinet. He examines a feather from the last time when he used that cabinet on a small bird. He begins to realize it’s spending days on end staring at this cabinet that he truly begins to hate what he’s become. He knows he had no choice, it makes him hate all those who did. All who didn’t have people pressuring him to be evil. To kill or be killed. It makes him hate all those who had good people in his life.

He just wanted one good person in his life, he needed one good person in his life.

Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a crash from somewhere in the room, faint whispering follows. Someone else is in here.

He draws his wand from his pocket, becoming extremely alert. He swallows hard, the last thing he needs is to be caught in here. He slowly moves towards the sound of the crash, pashing piles and piles of randomized objects. The faint whisper becomes a distinct mutter, a girl’s mutter.

He jumps out from behind the last pile of things before him and the unknown girl and raises his wand. However, he immediately lowers it at the sight before him.

“Y/N?” He questions putting his wand back in his pocket.

You look up at him and gulp. You are kneeling on the ground in front of a puddle of spilt paint to the side of a canvas. Your face turning a bright red to match the paint covering the floor.

“Draco,” you say wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he tuts.

“Well, I needed a canvas and some oils,” you shrug. “So, I went to the room that would supply me with my needs.

"Well, I needed privacy as in no one else being in here,” he says coming off more hostile than he wants to be towards you.

“Maybe you don’t know what you’re actually needs are,” you look down at the ground, saddened at his hostility towards you. Just when you were beginning to think he could actually like you, how silly.

He remembers what he was just thinking about. Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life? “Maybe you’re right,” he admits.

You look up at him and try to suppress any thoughts of him needing you from your head. You look back down at your paint puddle and go back to cleaning.

“You know there’s this thing called magic,” he chuckles before pulling out his wand. After giving it a little flick all the paint moves back into the container.

You tut before letting out a muffled thanks and standing back up. A slight frown forms on your face as you dip your paintbrush into your now unspilt paint and get back to working on your canvas.

“I thought you’d be a little more thankful,” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t like to mix magic and art,” you huff.

“How come?” he presses on, sounding as though he genuinely cares.

You sigh, not sure if you’re completely comfortable about divulging your childhood to Draco, your muggle childhood. If you even wanted to dream about having a chance with him you figured it wouldn’t be best to remind him you’re muggle-born. However, he’s expecting an answer and you only have the truth.

“It just when I was younger I was told I had a gift when it came to art,” you sigh. “They said my art made my talent seem like magic,” you smile at the memories. “I guess I wanted to keep it all down to talent not literal magic,” you shrug,

“Oh,” is all he has to say. “Well, can I see what you’re painting?”

At that you freeze, brush in midair dripping paint onto the ground. You swallow hard and your face becomes a deeper red than Draco, or anyone has ever seen you as. You slowly turn your near paralyzed head to look at him wide-eyed, You do not even want to imagine Draco’s reaction to your current work, yet alone see or hear it in reality.

He chuckles, “I’ll take that as a no.” You slightly nod and turn back to your work. “If I can’t look at it can you at least tell me what it is?” Your face is burning at this point, it feels so hot you fear you may need to go down to the hospital wing.

He appears next to you and you nearly choke on the lump forming in your throat. You set your brush down and timidly turn your head to look at him. You get a side view of his head, slightly tilted with a flattered expression resting on his face.

“Is that me?” He smiles brightly and you swallow hard.

“Is that weird?” You timidly ask.

He turns his head to look down at you, a smile still plastered on his face. “Not at all.”

He looks back to examine the painting even deeper as you rock on your heels as an anxious tick. The painting is a site you captured in your head at the match. Draco with his hand outstretched towards a golden blur, you seeker right at his heels. You painted the world around them as a fuzzy haze to show they were moving at top speeds. In the background one could distinguish the field, goalposts, stadium full of students, as well as the other players flying about.

“Is this why you left the match early?”

“Yeah, I just got the idea and rushed here to go and paint it,” you shrug. Then, you fully process what he just said. “You noticed I left?” Your eyebrows knit together and you move your gaze to him.

“Of course,” he says looking at you. “I did it for you,” he states. “I woke up this morning and the last thing I wanted to do was go looking for a golden blur. Then, I remembered you said I could count on you being there and I knew I had to play.” You open your mouth to speak but no words come out, so Draco continues. “I was planning on inviting you to the after party as my date but you weren’t there,” he shrugs. He’s trying to play it cool but truly he heart is beating a mile a minute. He was not intended to profess his love for you but before he could stop himself the words were slipping from his mouth.

“D-date?”

“Yeah, is it so weird for me to take the girl I’ve liked since second year to be my date?” There’s no going back now. It’s out, the secret is out. Draco Malfoy has feelings for Y/N Y/L/N.

He waits for you to say something, anything. He heart is racing and his cheeks are turning pink. He hopes you’ll say you feel the same but you just stay silent.

Your mouth hangs agape, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You’ve liked me since second year?”

“Is that weird?” He timidly asks as you did previously.

“N-not at all,” you smile wider than ever, your face only turning slightly pink. “I mean I’ve liked you since first year.” You see his eyes light up at that, he looks as if this is exactly what he needs to hear.

You two stay silent for a moment, gazing into each others eyes. Both of you wondering what to do next. His eyes slowly move down to your lips, linger for a second, then dart back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out so quietly you barely hear.

You nod and try to suppress the butterflies in your stomach. He takes a step closer to you and lightly grips your elbows. He pulls you close and stares deep into your eyes. He starts to lean in as do you, both closing your eyes. His lips gently connect to yours. He softly moves his lips against yours, his hands moving down to your waist as yours get tangled in his hair. Neither of you pull away until you both are gasping for air.

“So did you win?” You giggle once you’ve caught your breath.

“I have now.”

Jealousy Games 02

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

Description: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride.

Pairing: JungkookxReaderxJimin

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 6.2k

Index: 01, 02

Warnings: Jungkook’s POV, masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism. 

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is. After this chapter, we can officially head into everything @ellieljade and I have planned. You’re not ready, tbh. As always, thank you to Nicole for being my beta and soundboard. 

Enjoy~!

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fuckboy » jjk » m

» request: nope

» genre: smutttttt

» author’s note: i was hoping to be able to get to 5k words, but unfortunately that didn’t happen :’) anyways, i still think this is the longest scenario i’ve written which i’m kind of proud of tbh ?? i really like this one and i hope you all do too! feel free to request any sort of au scenarios and i’ll be sure to write it !

» word count: 4.3k+

» warnings: fuckboy jungkook, sexting, phone sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex

**nsfw under the cut

You sigh to yourself as you collect the randomly discarded articles of Jimin’s clothing scattered through the house. You roll your eyes as you grasp a pair of his underwear, tossing them into the basket which has now grown heavy with the weight of his dirty laundry. “Seriously, Chim, is it that hard to pick up your clothes?” You ask as you walk into the living room, picking up an old t-shirt from the back of the couch; you stop in your tracks once you finally look up.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Jimin flashes you a sheepish smile, but you are no longer worried about him. Your eyes travel to the other person in the room, Jeon Jungkook; he leans casually against the wall, taking a sip from a bottle of water. “Have you met Jungkook?” Jimin asks you casually, flicking through the channels on the television as you glare at his friend.

“I don’t think so,” you say truthfully; you’ve never met Jeon Jungkook, but you’ve heard of him, many times. Most recently, his antics had been called to your attention by a close friend of yours, and to make a long, long story short: Jeon Jungkook is a fuckboy.

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Mr. Min - Chapter 06

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst and Smut

Word Count: 26,321 

A/N: I’m so sorry.  I don’t think I’m capable of doing short chapters anymore.  Feel free to read this on AO3 instead if your app messes up.  

And a huge round of applause to the always lovely, @avveh, for beta-ing this behemoth.  I’m so sorry to put you through that lol.

Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 

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BEST FRIEND

This word now and days can mean two or more things: 1.) someone you can count on in the time of need. 2.) someone you can be your crazy ass around with and share memes that you know might end both of your asses in hell for laughing at them. And 3.) someone you can call on when a bitch think your still playing games in 2017

Here is my opinion on the Mars Signs, as BEST FRIEND

ARIES MARS: 


Stereotypical, yes, you can call their crazy ass to a fight. But don’t bother trying to tell them to ‘fucking chill’ because they are the ‘head strong’ type of best friend and are not passive to defend themselves against even their closest friends’ bullshit. Will explode on you for doing them wrong, or saying/doing some dumb shit. 

TAURUS MARS:


This is that mom in your group of friends who always seems to have their life together and won’t break down, ever. Advice is always given but if they see it’s just going through one ear to the other, your on your own. And once they cut you out of their life, that’s it. No catching up again in two years, no happy birthdays on your Facebook feed, not even a hello to your mother who keeps asking about them. The ‘once I’m done, I’m done’ best friend.

GEMINI MARS:


Thinks they are always right and that anyone who disagrees is below them. There is no point arguing with them, even if they are in the wrong, they will still try to win the argument. Thinks they are better than you and will prove themselves til the day they die. Many find them annoying and will stop talking to them, after a few conversations. Will give opinion, even if not asked. But if you can handle this and or love a good mind prodding, this person is for you. ‘Smart ass’ type of best friend.

CANCER MARS:


Thinking this one won’t be as bad? Your wrong. This is the type to double cross your ass on the court and act like everything is okay when you break your ankles. They feel a lot and will constantly need to be told that yes, you value them and the friendship. Moody and emotional, sometimes you might wonder why you stick around them. But then they just surprise you with some shit and you forget about it. The ‘thrower of shade behind your back shade but will also buy you food to make up for it’ best friend.

LEO MARS:


Insult them or their interests, get ready for a semi-dramatic show of a mix between ‘coming for your edges’ and ‘shut up, your just hating’. Not sure if they know that yes they too, have faults. No one is perfect. Well, they seem to think they are. Loyal af, at times. Has a hard time letting some things go, must defend til the end. ‘Sometimes-annoying-but-you-still-fuck-with-them’ type of best friend.

VIRGO MARS: 


Honestly, this one is complicated. Can range from being a perfectionist over their life that was fine five days ago but now some bullshit popped up, and they over-whelmed themselves over some tiny shit. Something always pisses them off, and or makes them annoyed. Always knows how to fix everyone else’s lives, but can barely fix their own. Will be distant and get moody when things don’t go their way. The ‘I told your ass that would happen’ best friend. 

LIBRA MARS:


That one person in your group of friend who thinks they have their life together, and will put on the show that they do. But- they procrastinate on everything.  Probably be the same one to be late on graduation day because they were hungry. Will seem clingy sometimes, but its because they care. Or so I’ve been told. Honestly, the friendship is gonna be a semi-cycle of you always reminding them to do something or the other. The ‘I’m more worried about you then myself’ type of best friend. 

SCORPIO MARS:


Your never really sure if this is just a friendship or something more, they don’t really let out much on their own behalf. Yet, will let you vent to them anytime, quietly collecting your dirty laundry just in cause you decide to pull the wrong move and betray their trust. Might get jealous of outsiders coming between the two of you, but will cover it to deal with later.  A good hider of emotions behind a friendly mask. The ‘okay, we will see’ type of best friend.  

SAGITTARIUS MARS:


Might impulsively do something that you both regret later but remember it as a good memory. Will get in fights/arguments but will forget about them and move on the next day. Always down to do some wild shit, but also talk about things that are not considered appropriate to talk about to other people. They tend to get aggressive with certain things, sometimes more than less at times. The ‘wild and kinda-serious’ or ‘good mix-ish’ type of best friend. 


CAPRICORN MARS:


Almost too serious and your always trying to cheer them up. Some shit is happening or they are worrying about some shit with someone close to them- worry, stress and won’t confess for them. Rather suffer in the shadows than deal with people getting in their business. Will go through the five stages, and in the end, just say “it’s life” and shrug while you didn’t even know what the fuck is going on. Kinda gotta tip-toe around them, but once your friends with them, y’all are friends. The ‘don’t worry about me, worry and improve yourself’ type of best friends.


AQUARIUS MARS:


Not exactly passive, but is not willing nor wants to deal with your bullshit. Does not care for your opinion about their life, because they know what they need to improve on. But doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, so they listen to your rants over some guy/girl who is playing games with you or how your so called ‘friends’ keep trashing you like, ??? What do you want them to do? They’ll listen, and give their two cents, but besides that- don’t come at them with a problem with no plans of finding a solution. The ‘honestly, couldn’t care less but whatever ’ type of best friend.


PISCES MARS: 


Seems moody and is, their mood shifts with the environment around them. One person gets mad at some shit, they get mad at some shit. Worried about everyone’s opinions about them and tries to not offend everyone. Eventually learns that people will hate for no reason and for some dumb reasons. Blows off irrational emotions instead of dealing with them. But their someone you can come to trust, eventually. The ‘I’m ready when you are’ or ‘a gauge between heaven and hell’ type of best friend. 

Wanna Bet? (M)

Rich Fuckboy!Jimin x Tutor!reader

PART II  |  PART III

Word Count: 2,782

Summary: Working as a private tutor at the most prestigious university in the region, you had to put up with a lot of bratty kids. Though none were as bad as Park Jimin. Just as your luck would have it, you’ve been assigned to be his full-time tutor for the year….great. After many failed attempts to get his grades up, Jimin comes up with a bet to raise his marks. What’s the worst that can happen, right?

A/N - This is my fic, just re-posting on my sideblog!


You were grateful for this job, you really were. Some days, it was just really hard to be grateful. You worked at the wealthiest, all boys university this side of the country. You’re a private tutor, working with a maximum of five students a year. Things have been going well for you, you’re known as the best tutor at the school, so parents are flocking to you to help their precious spoiled brats. Hey, at least the money is decent.

Your whole week, scratch that, year has gone downhill the moment you get a call from the Dean.

“Y/n? Yes, hello. We’re going to need you to take on a student full time at the start of the new school year. I know this is a lot, so the pay will be increased, and you won’t have to take any other students. You will be tutoring five days a week for this student. Can you do it?”

“Um, yes, I don’t see why not…” growing a little curious as to why the dean himself is contacting you, you ask, “who is the student, Sir?”

“Park Jimin.” Shit.

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2

Lots of narratives have been going around about why Hillary lost. Most are placing the blame directly on the candidate herself, ignoring a few key points:

1. Hillary won the popular vote by 3 million votes. Yes. 3 million. To minimize this or not take it into consideration proves you are bias in your analysis of why Hillary lost. You don’t win the popular vote by 3 million if you are a truly bad candidate (Hillary also won every single debate). And for historical reference, Al Gore only won the popular vote by 500,000. Hillary won it by 3 million. 3 million votes is no small feat. You cannot ignore this fact if you want an un-bias analysis of why Hillary lost the election. The last two Republican Presidents lost the popular vote!

Also – both popular vote winners Al Gore and Hillary Clinton were hurt by progressives (Nader and Bernie) who got too comfortable after 8 years of a Democrat in the White House. Our side seems to shoot itself in the foot after 8 years in power. As we learned yet again – every vote counts, especially in the swing states. Because guess what? You can win the popular vote and still lose the election due to the electoral college. Progressives blew it big time for the second time in 20 years and hurt our popular vote winners Al Gore and Hillary Clinton. A cumulative 3.5 million more votes for the Democrats!

2. In U.S. politics, one party usually has power over the White House for only 8 years. Very rarely does a party hold onto the White House longer than 8 years. The last time was when Bush Senior won after Ronald Reagan, but then he quickly lost re-election to Bill Clinton. Democrat Al Gore couldn’t even win after Clinton left us with a surplus and booming economy. This usually happens because the side that isn’t in power tends to rise up, while the side that occupies the White House gets lazy and complicit. From a historical perspective, America was already headed towards a Republican Administration in 2016. Combine that with the racist backlash to Obama, and Trump exploiting the rise of worldwide racist nationalism, it’s no wonder their base turned out and ours didn’t. Remember – under Obama, the Democrats have lost 900 legislative seats nationwide and most of the Governorships and state legislatures, too (in addition to the White House and U.S. Congress). The backlash to Obama has been strong and was bound to hurt us in 2016. Point is – in American politics, very rarely does the same party occupy the White House for more than two-terms. This especially holds true when you combine that with racism and the rise of nationalism working against the first African American President. Conservatives were out for blood after 8 years of Obama, while our side shot itself in the foot by allowing Bernie to run as a Democrat (Nader all over again).

3. Just as in the United Kingdom (Brexit), there has been a worldwide resurgence in a nationalistic white working-class. Trump exploited this in a way Bernie Sanders never could have. Why? Because nationalism is being used to scapegoat immigrants and minorities. The 2016 election truly was an election about which party was going to turn out their base (whites vs. minorities). That’s why Hillary spent her time trying to convince us of the dangers a Trump Presidency posed to minorities. And if we had voted in levels similar to 2008, our base would have triumphed. But a core part of our base was missing – young voters that showed up for Obama but not Hillary. Why? Bernie fucking Sanders. Most of the “Bernie-or-Bust” voters I knew were young male progressives who puked at the thought of ever voting for Hillary. They even called Bernie a “sell-out” when he half-heartedly campaigned for her. What a shame. Because in the face of Brexit, every vote counted. Remember – Trump only won the swing states by a total of 80,000. How many “Bernie-or-Busters” were in the swing states? Seriously – never underestimate angry white men showing up at the polls (Brexit and Trump). Our side is much harder to turn out. That’s why every vote counted. And yes… I’m looking at you, college students!

4. Comey. The momentum the 3rd debate victory produced was lost after the Comey letter. The 3rd debate was the debate where “Nasty Woman” was coined. The closet thing the Hillary campaign came to naturally produced momentum. And it (luckily) came near the end of the election in the final stretch. Hillary was riding high after the 3rd debate domination – 11% polling lead. Everyone thought she was going to win and Nate Silver gave her over a 90% chance of winning. But then came the Comey letter. 

His letter also came after the release of Trump’s “pussy grabber” tape. The media narrative switched from “pussy grabber” to “FBI re-opens Clinton E-mail Probe.” The headlines became anti-Clinton rather than anti-Trump. And in American culture, media momentum is huge. That’s why they call it an “October Surprise.” Late deciding voters heavily broke for Trump due to the Comey letter and that’s what made the difference. 

Hillary ordered a complete analysis of the election and the Comey letter was the only new variable from her 11-point polling bump after the 3rd debate to election day. “Pussy grabber” was old news. “E-mails” became front and center yet again. This is why there is currently an independent review of Comey’s actions as we speak. Official protocol says to never release anything about a case if it may sway an election. Why? Because it might turn out to be false. Just like what happened. Comey ultimately retracted the letter in the final hours of the election, but the damage had already been done. Hillary was finished. Her 11-point debate lead – gone. That’s why there is currently an official investigation into Comey breaking official protocol and swaying the election in Trump’s favor. Once this investigation is complete, I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the Clintons.

5. Sexism. The 2016 election proved a far more qualified woman can still lose to a far less qualified man. Actually, Hillary was the most qualified person (man or woman) to ever run for the Presidency. Any man with Hillary’s accomplishments and qualifications never would have lost. It wouldn’t have even been close. Period.

6. Russian interference. We’ll never know exactly how much Russia swayed the election, but the influx of “fake news” targeting Hillary Clinton definitely had an impact on her public perception, especially in regards to her “trustworthiness.” Putin had a vendetta against Hillary because he held her responsible for the protests he faced after his re-election. He also thought Hillary would be far more aggressive and effective than Obama. He’d rather have a puppet and buffoon as President (Trump) than the brilliant Hillary Rodham Clinton.

7. The media. Hillary’s e-mails were made to seem just as bad as the millions of horrific things Trump did over the course of his 4-times bankrupt career. The false equivalence was mind-boggling. In the pursuit of trying to appear “un-bias” by saying both sides were equally corrupt, they ended up being bias against Hillary and helping Trump win the Presidency. The actual un-bias viewpoint is that nothing Hillary has done is anywhere near the level of deplorable things Trump has done. But the media made Hillary seem just as bad as Trump in order to give the impression that they were being “objective.” 

I truly hope the media did some soul-searching after the 2016 election. Tearing down Hillary and glorifying Trump – giving rise to his “cult-of-personality” has really bitten you in the ass, hasn’t it? Now you have at minimum 4 years of covering a manipulative propaganda artist con-man who just likes to play head games. Have fun!!

8. Republican witch-hunts. Republicans abused their power, which led to 8 separate Benghazi investigations. More investigations than Pearl Harbor, the JFK assassination, and 9/11. Yet Hillary was never found of any wrongdoing and came out victorious after her triumphant 11-hour Benghazi testimony. Unfortunately, after so many fake “scandals,” Hillary’s image had been damaged. Which was the entire point of these fake scandals – even if Hillary isn’t guilty, we can still accuse her of corruption and plant seeds of doubt. But rather than viewing the Republicans as the corrupt ones, manufacturing fake Clinton scandals and wasting tax-payer money, many Americans drank the Clinton hate kool-aid (even progressives).

All of these factors led to the “perfect storm.” Which is why we needed every single vote in every single state. Yet Hillary still managed to win the popular vote by 3 million despite Russian interference, Bernie mania, multiple witch-hunts by Republicans, 11-hour Benghazi testimony, sexism, a media hell bent on false equivalency, a rise in worldwide racist nationalism, one party historically only occupying the White House for 8 years, and the devastating Comey letter. 

3 million more votes. Despite it all. A majority of Americans agree with our vision and our values. By the millions. And that’s not even taking into consideration ID laws and voter suppression of minorities, which greatly decreased the amount we won by.

“But, you know, then at the end, we had the Russians and the FBI deal. She couldn’t prevail against that. She did everything else and still won by 2.8 million votes.

The finest vote counter in America is Nate Silver. He told you what costed the election.” ~President Bill Clinton

A political icon and legend. Was going for round 3 in the White House. And we all know she ran it the first two times.

You Don’t Have to be Superman

(Put a read more in cause it got kinda really long oops)

  • Ladybug and Chat Noir are together
    • Like together together
    • Very much together
    • And everyone knows it
  • They don’t know each other’s identities because it’s not safe, not with Hawkmoth still out there
    • When they defeat him, that’s when they’ll tell each other, they promise
  • They defeat Hawkmoth when they’re twenty three and Gabriel Agreste goes to prison
  • Their Miraculouses are running down, or Adrien needs a minute to himself, or something, but the point is, they split up and are going to meet up that night and reveal themselves
  • Marinette doesn’t count on Tikki and the earrings disappearing as soon as she transforms
    • It’s awful, but she and Chat are in this together and they’ve got a hotel room booked so she’ll just meet him there
  • Adrien doesn’t count on there being a lot of paper work when it turns out your father is a supervillain
    • There’s a lot
    • Nathalie is handling it mostly but they still need his signatures and no one is letting him out of their sight
  • Marinette goes to the hotel room and waits for Chat to arrive
    • He doesn’t
  • Adrien glances at the clock every few seconds, trying to pull himself away from the mess of his life for long enough to get to Ladybug
    • He can’t

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Liability (Part 1)

A/N: FINALLY posting something. This is based off a recent even that happened in my life and I kinda needed to write it all down…let me know what you think! Especially since I haven’t written in forever! 

Dean x Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire

Word Count: 1000+

Warnings: Angst, Swearing

The two of you had avoided each other for weeks.

What went from hurtful words spewed at you in the heat of the moment, to you needing time, which then eventually led to the art of stonewalling that the two of you perfected in. And now here you were with this awful knot in your throat, your mind curled in on itself, two hands firmly holding the steering wheel, driving in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been arguing about in the first place, but the overwhelming sense of not being of any use to him, of being an inconvenience, a liability, was enough to have you putting as much distance as you possibly could from Lebanon, Kansas.

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