i was shaking when he got there

into my arms

length: 1.2k

genre(s): fluff

warnings: none

simon gets his sandwiches and snowbaz goes stargazing

a/n: thank you to @bazwearsjeans for the beta!! and to @andonewillbringhisfall for organizing the leavers ball!! (sorry this is late lol) from now until july 31st i will be posting every wednesday so track the tag #egfics to see new fics ^__^



Simon

Baz finally got us some sandwiches. Well, he got me some sandwiches. He’d sat and talked with Cook Pritchard while I’d scarfed down about four. I suspect he didn’t want to eat in front of her; I understand all of that now. I understand Baz now. Well, as much as he’ll let me. Which is more than he used to, really. It helps that I pay attention; that I think about him. Not that I didn’t think about him before, I just think differently now. About him. About us.

Once Baz had decided I’d eaten enough, he’d bid Cook Pritchard good night and all but dragged me out the door and onto the Great Lawn. Which is where we are now. The Great Lawn. Stretched out under the stars, lying side by side. I can feel my wings digging into my back, but I barely notice as Baz takes my hand and rests it over his heart. I can feel it thumping steadily under my hand, a familiar feeling. Whenever we’ve shared a bed–which isn’t often–I like to sleep with my ear to his chest. He laughs at me for it, but it’s soothing. He’s soothing. It’s strange to think that.

My hand is rising and falling as with every breath Baz takes, and I feel it hitch when I start to move my hand. Just slowly–down and up–barely reaching his stomach. When my fingers finally brush across his ab muscles, they’re tense, like he’s preparing for an attack. “Someone could walk out,” he whispers, and I laugh.

“Haven’t I established that I don’t care?”

Baz just shakes his head and smiles indulgently. His smile grows wider when I roll over until I’ve nearly got him pinned underneath me. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a piece has fallen out. It makes me want to free all the strands, so I do. He grunts in surprise as I slide my fingers through his silky hair, loving the way it feels in my hands. I tug gently, and Baz’s eyes widen. I do it, and grin when he groans.

Baz

“Snow,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “what are you doing?” Instead of answering, he ducks his head down and slams his mouth into mine. It’s just as much of an assault as before, but I’m used to it by now. I’m not used to this side of Snow, though. Tonight he’s clingy, all roving hands and cheeky smiles. I’m not sure what’s changed, but I’m bloody well not going to question it, now am I?

Snow lets go of my hair and brushes his fingers past my neck. They’re warm, as usual, and the difference in temperature makes me gasp. He takes advantage of my open mouth, shoving his tongue into my mouth and catching me by surprise. (Good surprise. Always a good surprise.) He tastes a bit like roast beef, and instead of being a turn off, it just makes my mouth water. I’m so hungry.

I put my hands on Snow’s chest and shove, hard. Instead of rolling off me, he just sits up on his knees, towering above me with a knee on either side of my thighs. I can barely see him in the moonlight, but his hair is tousled and his lips look kiss-swollen. He’s panting heavily and I want nothing more than to grab him by the collar and pull him back down to me, except I’m afraid.

“What the hell, Baz?” Simon asks, trying to catch his breath. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to admit I’m afraid of hurting him. I try to subtly run my tongue along my teeth, hoping Simon won’t notice. That would be even more of a buzzkill. I don’t feel my fangs, I don’t even feel them beginning to pop out, and now I feel a bit silly. How Simon notices my faint flush in the dark, I have no idea, but he reaches out and strokes my cheek softly.

“You aren’t going to hurt me.” He sounds so certain that I almost want to believe him. Maybe I do believe him.

“Snow…” I say. “Simon…” But I don’t get to finish, because his lips are on mine and somehow his hands have made it to the collar of my shirt. His fingers linger at the top button.

“Is this okay?” I nod. Normally I would chastise him for getting my suit dirty, but it’s like something strange has come over me. Simon revealing his insecurities broke open something inside of me, something soft and delicate that I don’t recognise. Something that apparently wants my boyfriend to undress me right here on the Great Lawn.

As if reading my mind, Simon snorts. “I don’t want to get you starkers. Just–” He unbuttons the top two buttons and drops his head, kissing, and sucking at my neck until it feels like I’m melting. One of his hands slips back into my hair, and the other one starts to sneak down my chest until his fingers begin to creep under the hem of my shirt.

Crowley, is this what dying feels like? Every nerve in my body is on fire; Snow is attacking from all sides and I’m completely helpless under him. I’m convinced this is all I can bear when he starts grinding against my thigh. My hips jolt, nearly throwing him off of me, and then everything stops. The hands. The kissing. The grinding.

I groan. “Why did you stop?”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, sounding nervous.

“Merlin, yes,” I exhale. Simon still looks nervous, and his eyes keep darting in the direction of the ball. The one that’ll be ending soon. Oh. Oh. “We don’t have to keep going,” I say, trying to hide the regret in my words. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Don’t be daft. Of course I want to keep going…just…shouldn’t we be getting back? Won’t people be wondering where we are?”

“No,” I say, thinking of my bed back in our old room; of all my old fantasies. Of pressing Simon into the mattress. “No, I have a better Idea.”

Simon

Baz’s voice promises something exciting, and the hand on my waist keeps dipping lower and lower. It brushes my arse, and I stiffen, but he’s only reaching for my tail. “So you don’t trip,” he murmurs, smooth as silk. Bullshit, I want to say back, but I’m too intrigued to argue. I let him guide me across the lawn, trying to hide how nervous I am. Where is he taking me? I must seem worried, because he stops walking.

Or maybe it’s because we’re here. In front of Mummer’s House. “Baz?” I ask, and he smirks at me. It starts to falter when I don’t answer back, and his hand drops from my back.

“We don’t have to,” he says apologetically, “I just thought…”

“I know,” I say, reaching for him, grabbing his upper arms and stroking them soothingly. “I know,” I repeat, “and it’s okay. I want to.”

He looks up at this, squints as he studies my face to gauge whether I’m serious. I am. I hadn’t thought I’d want to go back to our old room, but now that I’m here, it sounds perfect. I let my arms drop as I wait for his answer.

“Okay,” Baz says, sounding relieved. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go then.” He smiles as I take his outstretched hand, and we climb the stairs. Together, for the first time ever.

Side by side.

anonymous asked:

Everlark for number 29? Your fics are great, keep on writing!

So, um…this prompt is two years old. Yikes. But anyways, the requested dialogue phrase is “I thought you were dead,” and it will be a miracle if the Anon who sent this even remembers sending it (*crazed laughter*). Anyhow, this prompt along with a few reviews shook something loose in my head and the below 4K+ word vomit happened. Not beta’d, so forgive my mistakes, also the end feels rushed but short of completely rewriting Catching Fire this is what you get. It is a continuation of something that is a year old, which you can read on:

tumblr

AO3

or FF

your choice. You’re gonna want to read that part first. And before you ask…yes there’s a third part in the works. So now I have to figure out how to post this part to the other sites when I said I wouldn’t expand it. Why do I do this to myself? I should be working on ms2sl or It’s All a Lie. Enough whining! Rated M for sexy times. Enjoy.


It takes a good two minutes for what they’re suggesting to sink into my brain. As soon as it does, I shake my head vigorously. “I’m not saying that.”

“Come on, Katniss. Your mother will know it’s a lie.” As if that would be my only real objection.

“No!” I shout at Gale but my eyes are drawn to Peeta, sitting in one of the bright chartreuse armchairs, hands clenched with his forearms resting on his thighs. There’s a strange tick in his jaw and a gaping chasm between us that I don’t know how to breach. My next words are directed at him. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whispers. My eyes burn and bile rises in my throat as I run from the room.

“Catnip,” Gale pleads. He hasn’t called me that unless there’s a camera around since before the last Games.

“Let him talk to her and explain,” I hear Haymitch say and I know that Peeta’s following me. I run to the only place I can think of that might allow me to talk freely, so long as the wind is howling like it was last night. A cold blast of wind hits me when I reach the roof, bringing me to an abrupt halt. Peeta’s warmth crashes into my back. I didn’t think he’d be able to catch up that quickly.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

#4 from that prompt post shipboys please.

got several requests for this one so im consolidating a bit! thank u <3


Nick squirms, biting back a yelp as Griffin smooths a bandage over his bleeding knee. “Griff, shit, ow.” 

“Nick…” Griffin says in smiling exasperation, checking his other knee for scrapes and sighing in relief when he finds none. “You ride your bike once, for the first time in a billion years and you hit a fucking tree. Who does that.” 

“I do,” Nick winces, rubbing his knee and getting shakily to his feet. “It came up outta nowhere, man. I’m positive it was lying in wait.” 

But Griffin shakes his head and pulls Nick back down to the living room floor. “Not so fast, Nick. You’ve still got a shit ton of sap in your hair.” 

At first Nick instinctually sits back down, leaning his head towards Griffin again. But at the first careful threading of Griffin’s fingers through his hair, his body stiffens. Suddenly he can feel every point of contact Griffin’s body is making with his own - the tiny spot where Griffin’s knee touches his thigh, as well as every single pull and tug at his hair. 

Oh no.

The absolute last thing he needs to do is to get a boner right now - Griffin has no idea that Nick likes having his hair pulled. Faint arousal is already curling in his gut from the work Griffin’s done so far, and it’s only getting worse as he pulls harder, working at a difficult spot. 

“Will you just hold still, you squirmy son of a bitch,” Griffin chuckles, fisting his hands in Nick’s hair and jokingly tugging him down to his lap. “I swear, if you don’t chill out, this’ll never get-” 

A half-formed, broken moan escapes Nick’s mouth. Fuck.

For a long moment, silence fills the living room. Nick can’t breathe - he’s painfully, obviously hard by now, and that moan was far past laughing off. It sounded desperate, raw. It sounded slutty. Another treacherous stab of arousal hits him at the thought. 

Griffin freezes, eyes wide, for a long moment, and then licks his lips. “You liked that,” he whispers. 

And somehow, Nick can’t lie to him. Slowly, face flushing, he nods. 

Thoughtfully, almost absentmindedly, Griffin tugs at Nick’s hair again, harder this time, twisting his fingers in and giving a sharp pull. Nick can’t help the ragged breath that escapes him now - his hips jerk involuntarily, and he leans into Griffin’s touch. Griffin breathes in, forcible control the only thing keeping his inhale steady. 

“God, Nick,” he murmurs, working both hands into Nick’s hair. “You’re something else.” And with both hands tangled up and bringing Nick closer and closer to the edge, he pulls Nick forward and crashes their lips together. 

Quotes from Harry Styles’ Interview

Writing for his album

“I started the album end of Feb last year for about three weeks and then had to stop for about 5 months when I went to do a movie. I came back to it in July and finished writing it in December. For a while before all I thought about it was stressing about what it was going to be. It gave me a chance to completely step away from it for a bit and have a real break. By the end of the movie, because we were swimming so much I just wanted to write songs…I think we wrote about 70 songs - we did 50 songs and ideas in Jamaica and that’s including like little ideas. Well full songs, I say there are 30 songs probably. One of the songs on the album, I wrote a few years ago.”

On his album

“I was with the guys who I was writing it with and we just wanted to make what we wanted to listen to and that has been the most fun part for me about making the whole album. In the least weird way possible, it’s my favourite album to listen to at the moment… I hope we did a good job but I really like the album so I hope people like it. I think if you put out something that you don’t stand behind and really love, then if it doesn’t go well then you could regret not doing what you wanted to do. Whereas if nothing happens with it, I love it you know so I think that’s what you should do. I think that’s been my favourite part to the overall thing is listening to the album and making all the changes – it has been fun to watch over it all.”

Writing in Jamaica

“I just wanted to not be somewhere that I’d get distracted. It was 360 of writing, you’d go home for dinner, write at the house then go back to the studio. I liked being away from everything and doing it like that.”

About his debut single

“It’s a bit weird, I feel like I’ve been hibernating for so long now and you hear it in the safety of the studio and now it’s time to give birth … it’s the song (debut single) I’m most proud of writing.”

About making it on his own

“I’ve been hibernating trying to get it all ready, that’s been fun, but I like this bit as well. I think it’s gonna be fun, it’s gonna be good. It’s not like I’m travelling on my own now, I have a band and everything and they’re amazing.”

Ed Sheeran

“I played him (Sheeran) a few songs after the album was finished. He didn’t say that he didn’t like any, but he did like one song that isn’t on the album. So I did have a bit of a minute of like hmmm no but…”

On Adele

“I’ve spoken to her a little bit, she knows one of the guys that I wrote it with (his music) a lot. But I don’t think so much advice, I just like how she does stuff. I think she leads by example, she’s the biggest, she’s amazing, she’s the best so she should be the biggest. The thing with her is she’s a different thing, she’s just good at it, I like how she does everything, it looks very nice. For my 21st she gave me one of her albums 21 and said, ‘I did some pretty cool stuff when I was 21, good luck’ and I was like, 'geez’.”

On Dating

“I haven’t dated in a long time really because I went away to do the movie then did the album so I haven’t in a while. I have a couple of candles left still though. 

Whether dating when famous is hard

“I don’t know, maybe. I feel like with all of the stuff how people date now, with all online stuff, I feel like you can do that (Google) with anyone really if you’re looking at someone’s profile before seeing them. It’s kinda the same… No, I used to (research dates), then I said I’m not going to do that anymore, it’s impossible to go in without a perception of someone and you’ve never met them and I started feeling like that was wrong and weird. I think I snore, and also I quite like routine, so I don’t know if I’m ­incredibly spontaneous.”

Cutting his hair for Dunkirk

“I felt very naked for a while. I was like yeah, I’ve gotta shave my hair off. It wasn’t a hard decision, it got made into a wig.”

Why he rarely tweets

“I don’t like saying something for the sake of it.”

Life at home and work

“The first time I went home not wearing trainers, I was in a pair of boots. Someone said, ‘What the bloody hell are they?’ I like to separate working and being at home with family.”

Staying grounded

“It’s easier in the way that I like to separate stuff from working and being at home with family and stuff. When you separate it it’s easier to see it for what it is. When you let it become everything and that’s your whole life, then it’s easy to get a bit lost in it. I’m lucky, I have amazing friends and my family’s amazing so I think they make it easier to keep the separation between the two which makes it easier for me.”

Being nervous about playing his music to others

“I think it’s nerve-racking in that I’ve only played it to like 10 people in a room. I try and not be there if I’m playing it…”

His mother and step-father’s reactions to the album

“I played the album to them the first time and there’s one song that’s got a vocal effect on it, the whole album finished then my stepdad said: ‘I’ve one question, where did you get the duck from, how did you get a duck in the studio?’ I was like: ‘That was me, thanks’. My Mum liked it which was handy. She cried a couple of times which was good, I think that was good.”

Musical Influences

“I think it’s hard to not have influencers from what you grew up listening on. I think everyone reacts differently to different types of music. I had a good range between my mum and dad… my dad listened to Fleetwood, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd and Queen. My mum was like Norah Jones and Savage Garden. There are a lot of melodies there.”

Being starstruck by other celebrities

“I remember the first time we went to an awards show in the US, we met Will Smith. It was a brief meeting – he was nice and very tall.”

Addressing the rumour about getting a sheep placenta facial

“No I’ve never had a sheep placenta facial.”

Rumours about Hobama

“I’m not allowed to talk about that.”

Rumour on taking his dates on helicopter rides

“No I’ve never done that,” Harry says, with Grimmy responding: “Not even with Barack?”

“No,“ Harry says. “It was his helicopter, haha.”

Talking about Chris Martin

“He’s lovely isn’t he? He is good at telling you to take care of yourself. I think he makes sure you are alright and is very zen. I think he is a pretty wonderful man.”

On Ronnie Wood

“Big fan, I love Ronnie Wood – I think I met him at a dinner party a few years ago and went to a couple of Stones shows…I think he is the nicest.”

Interviewing Paul McCartney for his Another Man issue

“It was amazing – his voice sounds like a song.”

Loving scented candles

“I mean I think everyone loves scented candles. But I usually take one from home if I’m travelling.”

About sprouts being the new kale

“I went two days ago. I got some spinach, eggs, OJ, milk, turkey and some brussels sprouts. Hmm what else did I buy…oh some Crème Eggs. I like putting sprouts in a curry and I like sauteing them. I think they are going to be the new kale. I met [someone] and I asked her what she did and she said ‘I’m the PR lady for Kale’ and I was like ‘good job then.”

Talking about his four nipples

“Still got them, managed to keep them. Maybe I just hide them in limited edition albums, like golden tickets. I’ll hold onto them.”

Best trait

“Best trait I don’t know, it’s weird to pick your best, shall we go with the nipples thing.”

On where not to ask him for a selfie

“I think in toilets is the weirdest one. It’s happened a couple of times… When someone tries to shake your hand right after having a wee, ‘I might wash my hands first’.”

About Liam’s son and being a potential godfather

“I spoke to Liam and he’s loving it. He said it’s going really well and everyone’s great. So I’m very happy for him. I think it’s a roll of the dice, there are a lot of people Liam has in mind. I’m not going to add any extra pressure. If it came my way I would be honoured.”

6

There’s really no easy way to lose fat in a few weeks. You could lose body weight in a few weeks, you could lose water or maybe burn through some muscle. But if you wanna lose fat it will take you about four or five months. And that’s just cutting out the crap. No alcohol, no sugar, no salt. (x)

{Reaction} Falling Asleep on BTS’ Shoulder

Are requests open? If so, can I request BTS reacting to you falling asleep and accidentally resting your head on their shoulder?

Note: This was so sweet, thank you for this request I really loved writing it. Thank you for your patience, and alas, here is the reaction. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the gifs/images used.

Min Yoongi/ Suga

Originally posted by cyyphr

It was clear that you had been tired before the film had even begun, but it wasn’t until about half way though that your eyelids started to get heavy. You were sat between the end of the sofa and Yoongi, the other members of BTS sprawled out across the other furniture and the floor. As a particularly sad scene played out on the screen, your head dropped onto Yoongi’s shoulder. He cursed under his breath, not expecting the sudden contact. He looked at you, was about to say your name when he heard your deep breathing and realised you’d fallen asleep. He didn’t dare to move except for his lips, which curved up in a smile he could not battle against. It wasn’t until the end of the movie that the other members had noticed.

Taehyung: “{y/n} is sleeping you know, we should probably wake-”

Yoongi: “Don’t you dare, {y/n} is tired. Just let them rest.”

Taehyung: “Sure, that’s what this is all about. You’re not saying that because you have a crush on {y/n} or anything and you don’t want to move-”

Yoongi: “I will kick you.”


Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by apgujeon

Jungkook felt his heart flutter inside of his chest as your head fell onto his shoulder. His breaths became shorter and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He found himself just watching you in admiration, unsure how someone can look so adorable and sweet when they sleep. During the day, you express so many different emotions, to extreme happiness and smiles on your face, or stress with tears streaming down your cheeks. But when you’re like this, you’re so carefree, your lips pouting ever so slightly and looking so soundless. It’s beautiful. Jungkook almost jumps when Jimin appears before him, smirking.

Jimin: “Your shoulder is going to kill if you let {y/n} stay like that all night, you know.”

Jungkook: “I don’t care”

Jimin: “You’re so smitten”


Kim Taehyung/ V

Originally posted by donewithjeon

Taehyung laughed as your head fell against his shoulder, he didn’t realised that you’d nodded off to sleep. He spoke your name a few times, and was about to start shaking you when he realised your breaths were heavier than before. He chuckled lightly to himself and allowed you to rest against him for a while, shushing the other members to inform them that he wanted the room silent so you could sleep. As it got later into the night, Taehyung decided it was too late to let you walk home, especially alone so he scooped you up into his arms and carried you up to his bed, allowing you to rest in the comfort. But as he turned to grab a spare blanket, your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist.

{y/n}: *half asleep* “Stay”

Taehyung: “Are you sure?”

{y/n}: *grumbles in confirmation*

Taehyung: *doesn’t need asking twice*


Kim Namjoon/ Rap Monster

Originally posted by rapnamu

Namjoon looked at you as your head fell onto his shoulder, and he wasn’t the only one to notice. He rolled his eyes at the way Hoseok was winking at him and Taehyung was laughing childishly as though he’d never seen anything so cute before in his life. Namjoon crossed his arms, his exterior showing that he was confident, that he didn’t care, however on the inside he was screaming. He worried that you’d wake if he moved, and he didn’t want that. He also didn’t want you to wake up and be weirded out that he hadn’t woken you up. A continuous battle played out in his head, all the while his face showing that he was calm and collected even though he was anything but that.

Taehyung: “Are you sure you’re not nervous, because your red cheeks say otherwise.”

Namjoon: “Unless you wanted extended intense dance training, shut your face.”


Jung Hoseok/ J-Hope

Originally posted by leojuseyo

As far as Hoseok was concerned you were asleep. Your head rested against his shoulder, looking down so he couldn’t see your face. He relaxed into the sofa, pulling you into his side and covered you both more with the blanket as the film played out on the screen before the two of you and the other members. Yes, he was perfectly happy, that was until you started to move your hand dangerously close to his crotch. He frowned as your fingers glided under his shirt and across his stomach, then inside of his thighs. It took him a while to figure out what you were doing, but it all became clear when he felt his jean zipper being pulled down.

J-Hope: “Well then! I think it’s time {y/n} and I turned in.” *scoops you up in his arms - he will have no mercy for you to tease him like that in front of the others. Good luck*


Park Jimin

Originally posted by jiyoongis

Jimin panicked from the moment that your head fell against his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake you or leave you at his side. He’d liked you for so long that this seemed like the most important thing. His head wandered to the possibility of you liking him back, he was worrying himself so much that he didn’t realise that he, himself was tired. As he started to calm a little, he realised how drowsy he really was, and it wasn’t long until he was also asleep, his head resting against yours. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook and Taehyung, or the cameras they held in their hands.

Jimin: *the next morning* “Jungkook and Taehyung why is there a photo of me and {y/n} sleeping all over the internet?! I will kill you both!”


Kim Seokjin/ Jin

Originally posted by bwiseoks

When your head fell against Jin’s shoulder, he smiled sweetly, then shifted so that you were lying down on the sofa with your head on his lap. He brushed the strands of hair from your face and watched as you breathed more deeply. You looked different when you were sleeping, there was something so enticing about it. Jin ran his fingers over your face, lining your jaw and your cheeks contently, thinking about how much he really loves you until he eventually falls asleep himself.

Jin: “Ah~ my Jagi is so beautiful”

So, the time has come where I have decided to share my hidden Nashcon 2016 Cockles photo op with everyone.

Why did I wait so long? Because I told myself, as a silent promise to Jensen and Misha, I was going to wait one year from the day, before I share it, even though Misha said to share it initially. Haha. Anyway, it’s been four months past the year mark, and I have decided to finally unveil the photo, I know it might garnish some stuff from haters, and I might be called “disrespectful”, however I ask everyone to read below first, on how my situation went down with receiving the photo, and then cast your opinions.

 So, I am waiting in the photo op line nervous as all hell haha, I keep the front of the book hidden the entire time, just patiently and nervously waiting. The book I held in my hands was “The Threesome Handbook”, by Vicki Vantoch (For those who don’t know who she is, she’s the amazing woman married to Misha!!). I’ve had the idea in my mind for nearly a year on how funny it would be to take a photo of the three of us reading it, I could imagine Jensen’s “what the hell position is that?!” Face, I can imagine Misha’s mischevious intrigued face, and then I would just be there looking like a dork, haha, either way, it was a year’s idea in the making. So the time has come and here i am shaking with my book…When it is my turn…I walk up to them…I immediately went to Jensen first because above anyone else, I wanted to get his Blessing for the photo, I didn’t want him to do it if he was not comfortable with it, and I was perfectly fine if he would have declined…So, I’m right in front of Jensen and I say “I completely understand if you don’t want to do this but, if not, it’s okay, but can we do something with this?” I showed him the book Misha’s wife wrote “The Threesome Handbook”, and he was like “With this?” He replied with like a shocked laugh as he pointed at the book, I laughed a bit in embarrassment…Then at this moment Misha comes over to the two of us, he sees the book and giggles as he grabs it, Misha being amused at the sight of the book, all I could do is look on in embarrassment and nervously laugh. At this point however, Jensen’s handler came up right away and was like “ Nope. No. No.” And she snatched the book out of Misha’s hand. So he was like “Oh Well” with a shrug kinda look then I was like “Oh well”, I knew at that point it was the risk of asking, so I didn’t mind. So I turned to Misha and Jensen and was like “Hugs then?” So we did a hug picture. The bliss and awesomeness of being between those two, still sends shivers down my spine. Forgive the capital letters but this was the exciting part…after the picture I THEN HUGGED THEM BOTH AND SAID THANK YOU, THEN THE HANDLER GAVE THE BOOK BACK TO ME. I WAS READY TO WALK AWAY WHEN MISHA GRABBED MY HAND, PULLED ME CLOSE TO HIM AND TOLD THE PHOTOGRAPHER TO TAKE ANOTHER. SO MISHA HUGGED ME WHILE WE HELD THE BOOK AND JENSEN GAVE HIS LIKE “WHAT?!” FACE. I WAS IN SHOCK!!!! SO ALL I HAD ENOUGH REACTION TIME FOR WAS TO MAKE A DORKY LOOKING “Idk, worth a shot” SUGGESTIVE FACE.


It happened so quick…I was not expecting it at all…After the picture all I could do was happily give Misha another hug, and just mutter “Thank you thank Misha”, I gave Jensen one more quick one and kinda high tailed it out of the room shaking.

Now…I was absolutely happy, and just speechless, I had two ops, the op I wanted to do, and I spent more time with them. The thing is though…After some time…I felt bad…because I wasn’t sure if Jensen was upset…or kinda just disappointed, because I felt maybe he didn’t want to do it and it was forced, as much as I appreciate it…To confirm, I decided to apologise to him when I got my autograph…The stressful part of it all, was the timing…See…I had to wait for the pictures to print, I wanted to grab it right away because I know sometimes people take photos of other people’s pictures, and I didn’t want this to get out by someone else’s hand. The thing is Jensen was then signing autographs in the same time…So, I was pacing back and forth from the picture table and the autograph hall to see how the lines were, just as it seemed like autographs were almost over, as they called my row many minutes before, the pictures were put out. LUCKILY I received my picture and I was able to make the line for Jensen, photo hidden. So again I nervously wait in line, when I got to him in line, he recognized me and said “Hey you” and smiled, and of course I was like “Hi” *giggles* and then I said “Jensen I’m really sorry about the book photo op”. He smiled and was like “ah, it’s no problem at all” And I said “Okay I just wanted to make sure you know I didn’t mean anything bad by it” and he said “Don’t worry about it, it’s perfectly fine”. I apologized to his handler also and she said “ Its okay honey, I’m not mad about it” and they both said you have a good night and pretty much don’t worry. So *SIGH OF RELIEF*

Got my autograph and his Blessing!! However me being me, I wanted security…So…To Make sure…When I got my Misha autograph, I walk up to Misha with items in hand to get signed.


Misha: “Oh hey it’s you, how are you?”


Me: “I’m good thank you, how are you?”


Misha: “I’m good, I’m good, are you having fun?


Me: “Yeah, it’s been really great”


*Misha begins to sign my items*


Me: *Nervously* “Can I ask you a question?”


Misha: “Of course go ahead”


Me: “Was Jensen upset with the photo with the book?”


Misha: *smiles, then giggles* “Oh no, he wasn’t upset at all. He would have gone through with it if a certain handler didn’t snatch it away from us”


Me: “Are you sure? I really don’t want him to be upset, I just didn’t think it’d be bad”


Misha: “No, don’t worry about it at all, he wasn’t upset” *Misha hands back items*


Me: “Okay, thank you Misha, thank you. You have a great night” *I say while gathering my stuff*


Misha: “You’re welcome. You too” *Misha smiles*


*I turn to walk away when Misha says to me*


Misha: “Don’t give it a second thought”


I respond by just smiling and saying a relieved “Okay”, and then I turn and head out to the hall.

So…This is that photo, from my amazing Nashcon 2016 time…I hope those viewing, find the humor in it as much as I do…If you’re gonna share it, please just attach this story with it, so people know, that yes while some might find it tasteless, it was done with a calculated understanding of the actor’s feelings behind taking the photo and not without asking their personal consent for it first, the events that unfolded from it, were not expected and were out of my hands, just as well I finally want to thank Misha and Jensen and just as well, Jared!! (Though they may not ever read this haha) for everything they’re do for the fans, it was a great time and is now a hell of a story I can add to my life of events. Everyone else…enjoy. :)


AO3 DragonKitten22
Tumblr Darkhorse2231

yondu lives: a concept

[this came up mid sobbing with @quicksiluers]

  • peter is crying as yondu frames his face with his hands, realising that the father he’d always wanted had been there all this time, blue and mean, but always there
  • rocket had alerted kraglin already what he’d given to yondu to save peter and their ship was ready and scanning for them to emerge from the planet. they got there in time, just in time
  • after yondu and peter had caught their breath, peter punches yondu in the gut for the stunt he just tried to pull. yondu, still wheezing, says, “ah, come off it boy. I was trying to do something good for once in my stupid life.” peter is still shaking, confronted with the near loss of the only good father figure he has in his life and continues yelling at him anyway.
  • yondu realises what he had said to peter when he thought he was going to die and he and peter stare awkwardly at each other before yondu pats peter gingerly on the shoulder and gets up to head to the cockpit to check on his ship
  • kraglin hugs him embarrassedly when he sees him, before sniffing loudly and walking away. rocket tells him he can’t believe that he has to deal with his emotional ass again
  • peter follows yondu around the ship the next five days, fidgeting and making random small talk until yondu snaps and goes, “boy I’m here, I’m alive, I swear to god!” 
  • the next time peter and rocket argue over who’s the better pilot, yondu stands behind peter, crosses his arms and glares at rocket. “i taught quill everything he knows about flying,” he says with a straight face and a small crease of his eyebrows. rocket falls silent and peter takes over with a small smirk
  • yondu doesn’t know about mantis’ power and doesn’t protest when she touches him, until she starts expounding on how much she loves and protects peter to a bemused group of guardians. the tables are turned when she touches peter, looks at yondu and bursts into tears. peter yells.
Manners (Jimin smut)

Originally posted by kookiyoon

Description: Jimin is your best friend’s roommate, and to say you get on each other’s nerves would be an understatement. Jimin decides it is his mission to teach you some ‘manners’.

This fic includes: Explicit smut, ‘good girl’ term, dominance games, hate love type dynamic, light spanking, ‘teaching of manners’ lmfaoo

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin x You (ft Yoongi and Taehyung)

Word count: 4.5k

You lazily played a game on Yoongi’s phone, your eyes peering up every now and then to look at the TV screen, displaying a movie utterly boring to you. You let out an unintentional sigh; you were considering getting up to scour for food.

“Why are you here if you’re so bored?” Jimin asked from the other side of Yoongi, whose lap your head lay upon. You sat up to match Jimin’s glare.

“Jimin.” You heard Yoongi scold under his breath. Deciding not to waste your energy, you ignored Jimin and got up to search through their fridge. Yoongi thought you couldn’t hear him once you were in the kitchen, and you barely could, but his low and deep voice rung through the practically silent dorm “I’m so sick of you being such a dick to Y/N. Go say sorry.”

“What?” Jimin laughed. “I’m not a child.”

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice was so stern you got goose bumps.

“Whatever.” Jimin mumbled, his light footsteps approaching the kitchen. You quickly stuffed your head in the fridge, acting like you were very busy. When you looked up, closing the fridge door with a muffin in your hand, Jimin is leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and a subtle frown on his face. 

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re making yourself at home.” Jimin says, his eyes pointing at the treat in your hands. You smile tauntingly, not breaking eye contact as you take an excessively big bite.

“Thanks.” You mumble through your full mouth.

“Gosh, did no one ever teach you manners?” He asks with a serious expression.

Keep reading

hugealienpie  asked:

I see prompts are open yay! Please tell me all about Ford finding out about Bitty and Jack.

Ooh, this is interesting, because I don’t feel like it’d be an announcement, but just something Ford finds out when Jack visits or the like. I mean, it could go the other way, like Lardo could be, “heads up, Bitty’s dating our ex-captain” and Ford would be like, “okay? why are you telling me?” (She’s a theatre background, what is a Bad Bob to her?) I think she’d be pretty chill with it, and coming from theatre, like being gay is not an issue, esp in college (and even at the professional level) and esp if we go with the oft reblogged “Ford is gay” headcanon.

But here is a small fic that is only half based on the above…

Ford double checks the dozens of pages Lardo has given her for the upcoming roadie. She thought dealing with dressing room allocation was hard (and it is, one hundred percent) but figuring out room allocations is somehow worse, particularly when she’s new, and hockey players are more superstitious than the girl who played Johanna in Sweeney.

“So, who was it I’m meant to pair Oliver with?” Ford asks, grabbing for the red pen she’d stuck into her bun earlier. She comes out with a green one. It’ll do.

“Wicks. But really, he’d be fine with any of the guys in his year.”

Ford makes a note on one of the pages. “Okay, then I think I’m–Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Lardo looks up from her sketchbook.

Ford double checks through all her sheets before she says anything. She’s not worrying, because there’s no time for that, she’s just already hating the amount of extra work she’ll need to do to fix things.

“I’ve left Eric, um, Bitty,” Ford corrects herself, still getting used to hockey nicknames, “off the rooming list.”

“Oh, that. Nah, you’re good.” Lardo goes back to her drawing. “He stays with his boyfriend when we’re playing up there.”

“Boyfriend?” Ford double-checks.

“Yeah. He’s in Providence. And he’ll drive Bitty to the games and practices and stuff. Should’ve emailed you that. My bad.”

“That’s fine.” Ford grabs another pen from her hair, forgetting she already has one in front of her. It’s red this time. “Just thought I was going to have to redo an entire afternoon’s worth of work.”

“Right,” Lardo says. “I can see why the minor freak out.”

“Excuse you, I did not freak out.” It’s half a lie. Ford has so many notes on these sheets, but she’s not freaking out, she’s managing. It’s all part of it.

Lardo looks up and smiles at her. “Knew you’d be fine at this.”

Ford takes the compliment with a gracious nod, and goes back to ticking off the rooming list against the team names. All accept Eric.

Keep reading

A Lesson in Love (Confessions)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,178

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this is not the end of story.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - The messages you sent me after editing this part let me know that I had successfully tugged on all of the right heartstrings, so thank you for that.

Originally posted by ditchthevillian

Whenever an uncomplicated task arises, people say it’s as easy to accomplish as breathing. The adage always made perfect sense to you whenever you heard it. Breathing is second nature. It can be done without having to think twice and, sometimes, it feels like certain tasks are the same way.

Today, that’s not the case. Standing here across from Bucky for the first time in weeks, you find that breathing is anything but easy. The air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as you stumbled upon the note he wrote on the canvas and you haven’t yet recovered. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, just breathe. But it’s hard. How are you supposed to remember to inhale and exhale in a moment like this?

“Are you going to say something?” You press, once the silence of the room becomes too unbearable. Your fingers curl tightly around the canvas as you wait for Bucky to speak. “Anything?”

Keep reading

squint at where you’re from

oops sometimes you gotta

spoilers for 413, bellamy/clarke, 1600 words, gen. AO3!


Even though it’s not really the same as coming down in the first time, Bellamy still has this strange sense of deja vu as he looks at the door. The ship is smaller, he has fewer people with him, he feels both more and less sure of what he’ll find. They tried to hit the only spot of green they could see, but the controls are a mess, so he’s not sure they got to it. The whole fucking ship is a mess, built out of whatever scrap they could salvage. Even with six years to perfect it, the thing is still held together with spit and prayer, according to Raven.

But it got them to the ground. They’re back.

“Just open the fucking door!” says Raven, and Bellamy lets out a long breath and finally hits the release.

He knows what he’s hoping for: clean air, plants, blue sky. And he gets all of those.

He just also gets a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with brown hair in braids, pointing a gun at him. Which is honestly fairly encouraging; someone survived, and they have firearms. So she probably came out of the bunker.

He puts his hands up on reflex.

“Hey, uh–we come in peace,” he tries, and then says it again in Trig, for good measure. He doesn’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be from another clan; there are plenty of them he doesn’t know. Or–his heart trips on the thought–she could be a nightblood. She could have survived because of that, and if she survived–

The girl pulls her gun back and looks at him critically. “Are you Bellamy Blake?”

He blinks a few times. “Um, yeah. I’m Bellamy Blake.”

“Really?”

She sounds skeptical, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. She’s the one who brought it up. There’s no reason for her not to believe him.

“Yeah, really. Did you come out of the bunker? Is my sister with you? Octavia?”

You’re Bellamy?” she says, like she didn’t hear him. She’s making a face like something smells odd. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Taller?” he asks.

Raven pokes her head out. “It’s been five minutes and you’re already being held at gunpoint? You sure have a way with people, Bellamy.”

“Look, we don’t want to hurt you,” he tells the girl. “Just–”

“I know,” she says. “You just want to see Clarke.”

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

a love spell, or something like it

inspired by a post sara reblogged (this one, specifically) and the resulting conversation about different love spells, where she suggested i write the fic. i said no, go away, it’s late. then i stayed up and wrote the fic.

This doesn’t make any sense.

Though they’d never admit it—Dean especially would never admit it—they’re practically witches themselves at this point. Sam isn’t deluded enough to think otherwise. He has a fair share of spells up his sleeve that he knows by heart by now, a few more he’s working on remembering, and some he still struggles with the incantation, but at the end of the day they frequently speak Latin and throw herbs into flames, so, logically, they’re witches, or close enough to it.

And it’s because of this (and his own unfortunate experience that no one must ever speak of again, thanks) that Sam knows a love spell when he sees one.

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Helplessness is watching a person you care deeply for deteriorate right before your eyes without having the means to help them.

Desperation is shouting for hours and hours at the top of your lungs for help until your voice is raw and throbbing.

Defeat is knowing that there’s nothing you can do. You’re stuck and forced to live day after day in a small, cold cell. Whatever hope of help coming is replaced with a numbness, a slow realization that this is how your life will end.

“Stop…. Pouting….”

Keith blinks back into reality at Lance’s weak, raspy voice. The latter is using his lap as a pillow, and Keith glances down to meet the brunet’s eyes.

“I’m not.” Keith answers, and despite Lance’s ashen face colored only with a deep flush across his cheeks, the brunet’s face lights up as a breathy laugh escapes.

“You literally… pouted when you… said that.”

On instinct, Keith moves to purse his lips out into a pout, but he catches himself and breathes out a low sigh instead.

He tilts his head back up to stare at the stone ceiling. How many days has it been now? Twelve, maybe? He lost track after Lance stopped eating, too worried to care about anything else but the brunet.

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Inexorable (1)

So I thought, why not combine that shit and make it a mini-series or something? I really hope you two anons enjoy it! No idea how many parts there will be. We shall see. Gif isn’t mine, cred goes to the owners! 1,560 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, a little crack, (Eventual) Smut, Mafia au!

Part 1 | Part 2

Everyone’s heard of blind dates – never of blind marriages, not even in the mafia world. Yet, here you were, walking down the aisle, your hand latched onto your father’s arm, towards a young man you had never seen before. 

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to him, let alone this being the first time you actually got to see his face. There was so much rage bubbling inside you at the moment, but it was all hidden behind a small smile.

Combining two mafia organizations together was a huge deal; something bosses usually agreed on with the exchange of girls, but considering Red Python was one of the most powerful organizations in the country, they wouldn’t want just any girl. They wanted a suitable bride for the heir of said organization.

And your father, being the great, generous man he was, suggested you.

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(s)he

This is that fic I was talking about the other day, the one I wasn’t sure I wanted to post. I ended up writing TWO similar but distinct fics (different POV, different ending) based on the premise of this fic because I just kept tinkering with it, so this is the second version. The first one… idk, maybe I’ll toss it or maybe I’ll post it later for the curious among you.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sterek high school AU, G, 1.7k words

Stiles thinks Scott is joking at first, mostly because he’s laughing so hard he can barely get the words out. “There’s a guy backstage asking for you by name. He’s got flowers.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and goes back to wiping the lipstick off his mouth. After four performances, he can get in and out of the dress and the wig in no time flat. He can even walk in heels without too much wobbling. But the lipstick? Bane of his existence. It still takes him a good five minutes of careful wiping and rubbing with petroleum jelly, and even then his mouth always has this odd orangish-coral tinge by the time he goes home for the night. By that point he’s usually too frustrated by the whole thing to even begin to bother with cleaning off the mascara.

Thank god this is closing night, and in a minute they can all go out for tacos and Stiles can set to work forgetting about lipstick for the rest of forever.

Scott’s still hovering at the door, anticipatory. “I think he likes you. Like, like-likes.”

“Ha ha,” Stiles says flatly. He tilts his head to the left and then to the right in front of the mirror, angling his face up into the lights. “Do you think I got it all?”

Scott gives him a careless glance. “Yeah, sure. Looks fine. But no, seriously, the girl who sells the tickets told me he’s shown up to every single performance.”

Scott isn’t joking. He’s laughing at Stiles (and okay, if their positions were reversed, Stiles would totally be laughing at Scott, too), but he isn’t joking. Fuck. Not even Stiles’ dad has come to every performance. 

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“Unpredictable” Langst Fic(trigger warning)

I received a request by a close friend to make this prompt into a Klangst fic, and I can only say that this is the best that I can do. “I’m Sorry” part 3 will be up sometime by tomorrow, probably in the late afternoon. I know you guys want more but unfortunately, I’m still working on it. I’m sorry I swear I’ll get it up soon and I’ll put all my effort into making the story enjoyable. If you guys want to see Klangst I’ll do my best to keep that a part of the fic and if I don’t get it right or don’t live up to your expectations I am so sorry. I’ll try really hard to make you all happy. I swear.

-Orion


They had no idea how many fighters there would really be.

They had underestimated Lotor’s ability to take lead of the war, while his father was recuperating from the severe beating Voltron had given him.

Overall, Voltron was outnumbered. They were unable to keep up with the multitude of jets, which seemed to be a never-ending fleet.

Shiro pushed them to the brink, and finally, they were able to take out enough ships to give them an opening.

Hunk used his Bayard to form his shoulder cannon, taking out the ion cannons on a majority of the warships, forcing Lotor to pull back his fleet and retreat. 

But not before Blue was shot by a fleeing fighter jet. 

Somehow, the laser cut through Blue, shattering through her cockpit and nailing Lance in the back. Blue lurched forward, feeling Lance’s pain.

The right side of Lance’s torso was burned. The team was so wrapped up in the exhilaration of victory, they didn’t notice Lance choking back pain filled sobs. He suppressed them and began laughing along with the others, ignoring his own agony. They didn’t need to deal with the knowing he was hurt when they were so happy. He felt blood trickle down his chin, and he knew he had bashed his head against the controls when Blue lurched.

Lance shook his head, feeling just how quickly the pain overcame him. He choked but swallowed back any form of distress.

“We did it!” Pidge exclaimed excitedly, whooping victoriously along with Hunk’s victory dance.

“Nice job team!” Shiro complemented proudly, smiling as he turned his lion around, flying back towards the castle, and a well earned resting period. Allura smiled proudly at the paladins, her face popping up on the intercoms in front of each paladin.

Lance’s attempts at concealing his pain were in vain. Allura noticed almost immediately.

“Well done paladins! Come quickly so that we may celebrate! I’ll open the hall of lions once you are all directly outsi- Lance?!” Allura’s worried tone sliced through the intercoms and all the paladins’ focuses were on Lance’s screen in a split second.

The paladins all periodically enlarged the screen.

Keith choked.

“Hey, guys! W-we did it!” Lance laughed uneasily, trying to cover his wound. But blood was more difficult to conceal, as was the immediate agony of moving, blossoming across his face.

Shit- everyone get back to the castle! Lance- do you think you can make it in time?!” Shiro shouted, the terror of losing Lance overcoming him. He had never sworn in front of the others before, and that was enough to send them into a panic. Pidge and Hunk were on the verge of tears, and Keith’s anxiety held him teetering over the edge of oblivion that was his mind.

Lance grinned, but slowly, his eyes shut, and his head fell forward.

Anxiety bloomed in everyone’s chest, and Shiro was that much closer to a panic attack.

“Lance?! ” Shiro all but screamed, leaning forward in his cockpit chair, seemingly trying to reach out to Lance through the screen. Blue started moving, but Lance, seemingly lifeless, did not move an inch on the intercoms.

“The blue lion is piloting itself?!” Pidge exclaimed, confusion and dread evident in their tone. Blue sped towards the Castle.

“Follow Blue! Hurry!” Keith shouted, turning Red around swiftly, immediately flooring it. He flew to the Castle at an alarming speed, with Pidge and Hunk right behind him. Shiro, shaken from the sudden realization Lance might not have made it, was a little slow on catching up with the others. He shook the thoughts away in denial.

He has to make it. He has got to be okay.’ Shiro thought, speeding after the others.

Blue all but smashed through the hangar doors, much to Allura’s shock, and flew directly to her landing point.

Blue landed safely, careful not to shake too much, intending not to hurt Lance any further, and once she had, she turned all her energy towards waking him.

Wake, my Blue paladin. Your teammates need you.’  Blue nudged Lance into consciousness, and he reluctantly complied. He shook his head, attempting to shake away the feelings of agony. Blue supported his attempts by forcing positive emotions into his thought process. 

He felt exceedingly better and was even capable enough to rise out of his piloting chair, afterward making his way to the cockpit’s exit.

Keith spun Red into landing position, opened the cockpit, and booked it, running towards Lance as fast as he possibly could.

“Lance?! Lance?!” Keith, Hunk, and Pidge all ran to the Blue Lion, their feet slamming into the cold metal floors of the Castle. Blue’s eyes dimmed, and Keith was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Please be okay, please be okay…” Keith heard Shiro mutter, finally landing Black into the hangar and hopping out quickly. Shiro caught up almost immediately, soon followed by a worried Coran and a panicked Allura.

“Not Lance… Anyone but Lance.” Hunk whispered to himself breathlessly, tears threatening to spill. Keith tried his best to keep his mind from wandering to dark thoughts about Lance’s state.

They skidded to a halt. Blue’s cockpit was opening.

Out stumbled Lance, and Keith tricked himself into feeling relief- until he saw the blood.

There was so much of it.

The crimson substance trickled out of his mouth, down his arm, and there was blood all across his torso. His forehead had blood dripping down the right side of it. His usually soft brown hair was a tangled mess, matted against his head due to all the blood.

Lance?” Keith’s voice cracked.

Lance looked so pale. His knees were shaking. His breathing was uneven. His blue eyes looked so empty. And yet, he still managed to pull off his winning smile without a hitch. Keith’s stomach lurched.

“Yup. In all my wounded, bloody glory.” Lance chuckled, his expression littered with pain.

“We need to get you to the healing pods.” Keith ran forward, and as soon as he got close enough, he lifted Lance into his arms bridal style. Lance’s breathing hitched, but when Keith looked down at him, he smirked.

“Who knew the hotheaded Keith could be such a gentleman?” Lance chuckled, and Keith almost blushed.

“I don’t need a pickup line right now Lance- I need you to keep your eyes open and stay alive.” Keith lifted an eyebrow, lifting one arm slightly. Lance gasped, an agonizing pain shooting through his spine from the faint movement.

Keith stared down at the agony-ridden Lance and finally took a good look at the wound.

His stomach lurched uncomfortably.

Lance had been shot with one of Zarkon’s lasers.

Lance was dying.


Part two

things Even experiences with sleepy/tired Isak:

  • lots of soft kisses and nose nuzzling
  • the radiant soft pink glow on his skin he always gets (mostly those adorable cheeks) when he’s cosy and warm in Even’s arms under their duvet
  • quiet whispered discussions about anything and everything, what they’re gonna do that day, how their homework is going, when they’re next visiting parents. just cosy domestic stuff that Even loves.
  • comfortably quiet breakfasts, sometimes over their second hand kitchen table and sometimes in bed, where they share sleepy smiles and nudge each other’s knees playfully while they eat
  • slowly dancing around their flat (if you could even call it that), as close together as two people could possibly be, the sides of their heads resting together and their arms wrapped like vines around the others waist just listening to each others breathing and their hearts beat because neither of them are awake enough to talk
  • Isak whining that they don’t need to get out of bed and meaning Even sets alarms ten minutes earlier now to accommodate Isak’s need for snuggle time
  • half arsing dinner and just ordering take out or giving up with it all together because they just want to lie down and recharge from the day’s events and how bad can it be to skip a dinner here or there
  • Isak falling asleep literally anywhere if he’s tired enough. over the kitchen table, sat in the school cafeteria, that one time Isak had been in the shower too long for even a 17 year old boy and Even went in to check on him and it turned out Isak had sat down under the shower and fallen asleep there despite (or maybe because of?) the warm water raining down on him
  • when Isak’s tired his brain gets things muddled up and his sentences sometimes come out backwards and he doesn’t even realise (like the time he asked Even if he’d homework’d his finish and Even said he didn’t study Finnish and they both stared at each other in confusion for a solid 60 seconds). most of the time Even can figure out what he means thankfully

things Even experiences with Tired™ Isak:

  • Isak getting overly emotional about everything, with all logic going out the window. homework unfinished? Isak is psyching himself out into thinking he’s going to fail all his classes. Even looked at him strangely? Even is realising Isak is a mess and he doesn’t have time for him. Isak burns dinner? he’s an impossible human being it’s no wonder his family fell apart when he can’t even cook a simple omelette. you get the idea.
  • Isak’s temper going from 0-50000 real quick. but his face always crumples before he’s even finished snapping and snarling (or shouting on the odd occasion)
  • having to wrap Isak up in so many layers and blankets because when he’s tired Isak cannot keep the cold from his bones and constantly shivers and shakes even when it’s a warm day
  • holding Isak close in the small hours of the morning while he tries to sleep, rubbing Isak’s back and stroking his curls and sometimes even rocking him gently, just wanting to help his exhausted boy sleep
  • the few times it got so bad that Even woke up to Isak shaking against him trying not to cry and when Even gathered him closer still his heart breaking when the tears spilt over Isak’s cheeks and he choked out I just want to sleep
  • the utterly terrifying night that Even can’t think about even now without breaking into a sweat. he’d woken up to the sound of retching and stumbled across to their small bathroom and found Isak hugging porcelain with a half empty bottle of sleeping pills on the floor.
  • for a wild second Even thought it was a suicide attempt and he was horrified that he’d missed warning signs that weren’t there, but when he dropped to his knees Isak choked out an apology and the tears spilled over (whether it was from the stress of vomiting or the emotional strain is still unknown) and he kept repeating that he was so tired and he just wanted to sleep. that was when Even took matters into his own hands and made Isak a doctor’s appointment
  • the many a night that Even woke up and through bleary eyes saw Isak lying awake next to him just staring blindly up at the ceiling
  • Isak not being mentally present at all for short stretches of time. sometimes he’ll even space out midsentence, to the extent that Even’s wondered if maybe Isak is having absent seizures rather than just being too exhausted to function

anonymous asked:

Au where petunia is a witch and lily is a muggle?

When the letter arrives, Lily is almost as excited as Petunia. She writes Albus Dumbledore to ask if she can go to, and if she cries a little when the answer comes back no she doesn’t tell anyone. Lily waves from the train platform, writes diligently, and listens with excitement whenever her big sister deigns to share stories of magic.

Petunia gets Sorted Slytherin, where she falls into a mutually-venemous friendship with Severus Snape, who she had considered dirty and poor when he was skulking around Lily in their little neighborhood, lighting leaves on fire like a baby arsonist, but who now seems like the best ally in a pool of ugly little fish.

The blood-purists are their normal asshole selves, which Petunia responds to with busybody eavesdropping, cruel gossip, and manipulative emotional bullying. Severus calls her mudblood in their fifth year (it’s not the first time) and joins the Death Eaters. Tuney calls him a greasy git of a wanker and they still have lunch away from prying eyes now and then.

When the war comes, Petunia does not fight in it. She marries a Hufflepuff boy named Vincent Dunsley who spends their entire first date telling her about his junior position in the Ministry and his planned thirty-six bureaucratic steps to the top of the food chain. Vincent has no problem with Muggleborns, or at least not ones who behave as properly as Petunia.

Lily does fight. She’s been reading the Daily Prophet for years as she sits through history class dreaming of brooms and punching bullies on the playground. At seventeen, she writes Albus Dumbledore again. When he still writes back no, she packs a bag and shows up on the Order’s doorstep.

Alice Longbottom gives her a place to stay, some spare robes, and teaches her how to fly– Lily hopes, wrapped in a warm blanket while they sip cocoa and discuss action plans, that if she’d gone to Hogwarts she’d have been good enough to get Sorted Hufflepuff. Frank beams at his wife in the dim yellow light.

Of the Marauders, Lily meets Sirius first– shaggy hair and strong bones, he’s a tall glass of water and he’s anxiously watching a skinny, scarred boy sleep on the sofa. They’re an hour off a mission and Remus crashed as soon as they got back to headquarters. The first thing Sirius Black, troublemaker and risktaker, says to her is “Shh! You walk like an elephant.”

She’d snap back, but Remus does look that worn down, curled on the cushions.

Peter and James are in the kitchen, shoveling sandwiches down their gullets that are the size of their heads. James staggers to his feet when she comes in. “Hi. Uh, new recruit?”

“Something like that.”

James shoves his hair out of his eyes with one hand and thrusts the other one out in her direction. “James Potter,” he says. “Beauxbatons? I don’t think I ever saw you at Hogwarts.”

She grins. “Lily Evans,” she says. “Cokeworth. And I’d shake your hand, but you’ve got mustard on it.”

Lily defies the Dark Lord and his forces three times, with James’s wand at her back, with Remus’s and Sirius’s and Peter’s. They tell her about Hogwarts and its secrets, and she brings them Muggle candy bars and the boxes of X-Men comic books from under her bed. No one gets chocolate smudges on her pages, under threat of James’s disappointed-in-you face, which he’s been practicing.

Severus Snape hears about a Muggle Evans on the warfront. “Petunia’s not a Muggle,” he snaps when Dolohov mocks him for it, but Crabbe cradles his broken arm and keeps talking– about green eyes, red hair like a war banner– and Severus’s stomach sinks low in his gut, cold and aching.

Severus Snape overhears a prophecy and he tells it to his Lord. Lily Evans Potter is the mother of a halfblood boy with a mess of dark hair. Lily is in Augusta Longbottom’s living room, playing peekaboo with Harry and Neville, because Alice and Frank are already in St. Mungo’s, because she does not know that she is soon to be not a soldier but a fugitive. Her child has no scars, yet.

On Halloween night 1981, Tom Riddle goes to the Godric’s Hollow home that Peter Pettigrew betrayed. He kills James in the front room, wand in hand. He kills Lily in the nursery, after giving her a chance to step aside. He tries to kill Harry, but he fails.

Harry goes to his closest living relatives– his aunt Petunia, uncle Vincent, and cousin Dudley. He sleeps in a little room just off the kitchen, which he thinks used to be a broom closet. They hate the attention he brings when he’s dragged behind his aunt at the grocery store, so they leave Harry home when they go to Diagon Alley, Ministry potlucks, or the evening shows that Dudley fusses through, fists full of pumpkin pasties.

Harry knows how to wash dishes by hand, how to cook bacon without burning it (most mornings), and how to capture the spiders in the broom closet and escort them carefully outside. For his birthday Dudley gets a toy broom. For his, Harry gets an Albus Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card because Dudley already has fifteen and didn’t want that one. Petunia likes to peer over the hedge into the yard of Mrs. Figg, the squib who lives next door, and snigger about how she has to do her laundry without magic.

When Harry is ten years old, his Hogwarts letter comes in the mail and the Dunsleys are surprised. “I wasn’t sure,” Petunia sniffs. “I mean, with my sister’s blood in you and everything, anything could have happened.”