i wonder how many times you two have to do it to have that

Harry Styles Vocal Health on SNL

Hello!  So first and foremost I wan to put out there how much I love Harry and his voice.  Dear god it’s SO COOL and unique.  I love how when he’s in good vocal health he has all these different textures to it- the gruffness of his chest voice, the purity of his falsetto, the power of his belt.  When the studio version of SOTT came out I couldn’t sing his praises enough.  His voice sounded SO HEALTHY.  He was making such good choices!!!  Everything was relaxed and well supported.  He let the song build naturally.  He MUST have gotten some solid vocal training over his break because that isn’t something that can just happen over night.  I was very impressed and very proud.  I was also a bit nervous to see if these changes would hold when he started performing live….and…..it looks like I had good reason to be nervous.  

Here’s the thing. There are a few reasons I’m so hard on Harry in particular when it comes to poor technique. First, compared to the other guys, his technique is the only one that’s actually physically DAMAGING.  Could the other guys benefit from proper training?  Sure.  Of course.  Every singer can.  Even those who have been singing for years still should train on a regular basis.  But the other boys’ bad habits are just that- bad habits.  They aren’t going to do long term damage, not the way Harry’s are.    The second reason is BECAUSE I know he can do (AND HAS DONE!!!!!) so much better!!   I know he’s CAPABLE of so much more and so yeah, I’m hard on him because of that. And finally, I know exactly what he’s doing physically and exactly what’s going through his mind because I have the same exact bad habits and I can see him using the same exact thought process as to why he slips into these again.

Harry is the Ultimate Performer. He wants nothing more than to put on a good show for everyone, even if that means sacrificing his own vocal health.  Now, that’s isn’t a HUGE problem…until it KEEPS happening.  Which is what happened with OTRA.  And possibly might be happening now, although that remains to be seen.  One performance of one song slips into an entire show of this slips into two shows of this slips into the entire tour and wham, you’ve got nodes.  I think the biggest problem with Harry’s performance last night is he doesn’t trust the material or HIMSELF to sell it the way it is.  He feels he needs to overcompensate and big Big and Bold right from the start and that song is not built to be sung that way.  He started at a level that he couldn’t sustain throughout the entire thing and had nowhere to go.  That’s when he ran into trouble.  

As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew it wasn’t going to go well.  Don’t get me wrong, he sounds fantastic in the beginning…but like I said, there was nothing for him to build upon because he already started it at too high a height. His voice sounded raspy to me too, raspier than usual.  That can be caused by a few things- he could have been dehydrated (you can’t sing right if you don’t pee white!), he could have been tired (we know he’s a morning person and that show is pretty late for him), he could have strained his voice at the concert the night before, he could have over rehearsed, he could have smoked a bit.  I don’t know what the cause was, but he didn’t start off the evening in the best vocal health, especially for a song that’s very difficult to sing.  I also think he KNEW that so again, he tried to overcompensate for that by pushing.  

There is so much tension throughout his whole body, particular his shoulders on up.  I’m sure a lot of that is due to nerves.  I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it again: the SNL stage is one of the hardest venues for artists to play.  There’s something particularly rough about it.  He’s also always had problems tensing up his face when he sings, but it what was particularly striking to me was that he did it during the falsetto parts.  That should have been EASY for him to sing.  That’s something light and relaxed.  Almost a break from the tension of the rest of the song…and yet he looks like he was in pain.  Which makes me wonder if he WAS in pain.  it’s hard to tell, but it almost seems like the second time he does it he pushes it more to a mix than a pure falsetto. 

It’s notable to me how relaxed the second syllable of  “bullets” around 2:44-2:48 is compared to the rest.  THAT is what the whole thing should have sounded like.  it’s relaxed and he’s got a great vibratto on it that comes straight from the diaphragm there- compare that to how tight “bullets” are the second time he sings it in that phrase at 2:58ish-3:04.  Why did you change what you were doing, sir??? In fact, to me it seemed like he KNEW it sounded good the first time and did his cute li’l dance and then came back to it feeling like “yeah I got this…” and then tightened right back up again.  because he didn’t trust himself.  

Thennnnnn the bridge happens.  And this is what i mean by he had nowhere to go.  THIS should have been his first belt it out moment.  but he pushed too hard too quickly and his voice just…wasn’t there.  It was tired.  The first scoop up to the first “we” was off key because of it and I think he knew it which made it even worse and MORE tense to the point where he just didn’t have the vocal agility to flip into his fasletto again for “learn”.  And then we’ve got the “it’s just what we know” which was just a poor choice.  I have a feeling he nailed that MULTIPLE times in rehearsals and mannnnn if he was in good vocal health how killer would that have sounded!??!!?  But instead, we got what’s called harmonic distortion which is SUPER VERY YIKESY AND A BIG SIGN OF HOLYSHITYOU’REDOINGDAMAGE (i sincerely hope he has an appointment with an ENT this week and gets scoped to check that out).   This was another instance of him trying to put on a great show and overcompensate for what he probably felt was lackluster vocals (which for the record WERE NOT THAT BAD.  I’m picking it apart because…well, it’s what I do.  and i don’t think I would have had too much of a problem if it weren’t for the super damaging choices he ended up making).  

From there he’s thinking “Oh shit that was bad…I REALLY fucked up…better step up my game and make the end better!” and once again tries to overcompensate and push a voice that’s already been pushed to the brink.  there just wasn’t more in there for it to give.  He couldn’t sustain it.  He had already given everything that there was go to give.  

When it comes to ESNY, it was a much better performance.  I think it’s partially due to the fact that it’s an easier song to sing and partially due to the fact that he was playing guitar so he wasn’t as much in his head (Side note: CAN YOU BELIEVE HE FINALLY BLESSED US WITH HIS GUITAR SKILLS?????).  His belty part towards the end wasn’t as good as it could have been, but I think that’s just due to the fact that his voice was kinda shot and that’s the best it was going to be.  It wasn’t TERRIBLE and obviously it could have been better, but I am curious to hear the studio version to see if there’s more belting that he just wasn’t comfortable with last night.  I could have done without the facial affectations because it just adds more tension and tension is bad, kiddos  But I think it’s a stylistic choice and I’m trying to pick my battles here.  Additionally, as we’ve seen in gif form his li’l neck vein was popping out so yeah he was tensing up pretty good there…but again, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been since the song itself isn’t as taxing vocally.  

All in all, the performances were great, especially if you’re not as picky as I am. I know this was his first time singing live in well over a year and SNL is high stress and it’s his first time out there ALONE.  I’m curious to see what happens on Graham Norton and if he improves his technique. I’m also really curious to see how he’ll be on tour as well. I do wonder if he’ll lower the key of SOTT so it’s not as taxing.  No one would really notice and it would make things a little easier on him. It’s just frustrating because I know he has it in him to do it well.  We’ve HEARD him do it well.  But he just doesn’t trust himself enough to do that and that kind of breaks my heart a little.  Thankfully, he’s young and has time to learn.  He can still break these habits and make new, healthier ones and learn to trust himself more.

BUDDY.  YOU GOT THIS.  YOU HAVE AN AMAZING VOICE.  YOU ARE A FANTASTIC SONGWRITER.  YOU HAVE GREAT TECHNIQUE WHEN YOU PUT YOUR MIND TO IT.  YOU ARE A KILLER SHOWMAN WITH A TON OF CHARISMA.  PLEASE TRUST THESE THINGS AND STOP PUSHING YOURSELF BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU DAMAGE ANYTHING.  

Love,

B <3 

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?”

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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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Show Off (m)

“Say, where do you get all your money from?” you inquire.

Hoseok stops himself for a second, reluctant to reply. “I-I have another job…”

“What kind of job?”

“Something interesting—different. Don’t worry about it.”

Synopsis: You always wondered how your roommate made a ton of money out of the blue; you never expected that it was because he’s a prominent camboy.

[cr.]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader // camboy!hoseok + room mate!au

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 7005

Includes: masturbation, dirty talk, orgasm denial, sub hoseok

A/N: julia and i roamed on one of sam’s blogs and ran into a certain vid… then this spiraled out *intense sweating intensifies*


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The Tea is Decaf

[ao3]

3.7k words
Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen
Based on this text post

Castiel just barely slips out the door into the hallway and turns the knob as he closes it so the latch doesn’t make a sound. The light is always on in the hallway, and Dean always wakes up if too much of it pours into his room, so Castiel has mastered the art of slipping through the smallest space possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in the hallway.

A small voice to his right lets out an amused laugh. He turns to see a particularly tiny woman wearing a very large plaid shirt and nothing else. Well, he supposes she could be wearing shorts under the shirt. It really is very big on her.

“You must be Castiel,” she says rather loudly, mispronouncing his name just slightly.

He walks over to her with a finger to his lips.

She puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment before signing, I’m deaf.

Castiel mouths an “oh” before dropping his head and laughing. He then pops his head back up fast and mouths, “Are you Eileen?”

She nods eagerly and signs, You’ve heard about me?

Sam has mentioned you a few times, he signs back. He says you’re a very good hunter.

Her face lights up. You’re damn right I am. Still, that’s very sweet of him.

So, are you two…? Castiel looks back toward Sam’s room and then down at Eileen’s shirt.

Eileen’s eyes widen in embarrassment. He’s asleep. I was just going to the bathroom.

I was heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Would you like some?

Is there caffeine in it?

Not at 4 in the morning.

Eileen smiles and gives him a thumbs up before moving past him toward the bathroom. Castiel watches her go for a second before it hits him.

He looks down at his plain black t-shirt and too-small boxer briefs and wonders if Eileen could tell that these clothes aren’t his. And that he came out of Dean’s room instead of one of the countless other extra bedrooms in the bunker.

By the time Eileen pads into the kitchen, Castiel has two mugs ready with decaf teabags in them and he’s standing at the stove staring at the pot so he can pull it off the burner before it whistles.

It’s only a minute longer before Cas pours the water into the mugs and takes a seat across from Eileen at the kitchen table.

You’re an angel, aren’t you? Eileen asks as her tea steeps.

Castiel nods as he takes a drink.

Does that mean you don’t sleep?

Sometimes I do. I didn’t feel like it tonight.

Is Dean good in bed?

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When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.

now also on AO3

The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.

“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”

“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.

From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)

Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.

Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.

As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”

“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.

“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”

Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”

“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.

Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.

“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”

Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”

Keep reading

Parallels

Originally posted by donewithjeon

 Taehyung x Reader

soulmate au, angst, sort of historical au?

 5.1K words

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that the purpose or your existence was to love Kim Taehyung, and his was to love you. Throughout countless lifetimes the two of you have longed for each other, but just like parallel lines, though your souls always seemed to be travelling in the same direction, it was impossible that they could ever meet and become one.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by the Fallen series which I read when I was like 12 lmao


You were no longer sure who, or where, you had been the very first time you laid your eyes on Kim Taehyung.

So many lifetimes blurred together into one, your existence was so scattered throughout time you had begun to lose track of it.  But in each life, no matter who you were, regardless of whether you lived a life of luxury or one of extreme poverty, he was always there. Your existences were irreversibly intertwined.

You didn’t know why. You didn’t know how. You had no clue if there were others in the world who lived through multiple existences, or if any of them remembered each individual life the way you did. In no life had you ever dared ask, for fear of sounding crazy or being whisked away to the closest asylum.

In some lives you were close to him. In a few, you even grew up as childhood friends. You remembered those lives more clearly than most. One in particular that you remembered with a shocking clarity was England in the 1600s. Your family lived on and ran a small farm out in a tiny rural village. It had been a tough life, getting up at the brink of dawn every morning and not returning from the fields until the sun finally dropped behind the earth, but the hard work paid off and there was always a sufficient amount of food. You could still feel the wonderful sensation of the cool, crisp early morning air against your skin, even now.

Taehyung’s family had owned a bakery and every morning, just as you set out to work the fields, his mother would send him round to deliver bread in exchange for milk.

Even from a young age, you’d felt the pull towards him, that feeling which was now so painfully familiar. He was like a magnet, he could only be resisted for so long before you had no choice but to give in.

For some reason, you’d thought in that life that perhaps things would be different, perhaps it wouldn’t end in the same fashion that all the others had. You were no longer sure what had caused you to think this, maybe getting to spend so long by his side had lured you into a false sense of safeness. You weren’t as foolish now as you had been then. You’d learnt the hard way that there were never any exceptions.

You still dreamt about that life sometimes. You dreamt about the way the long honey coloured strands of wheat matched his eyes and the sound of his laughter getting caught between trees in the nearby forest as you played together. But more vividly, you were haunted by the shy, gentle first touch of your lips to his, you were tormented by that fleeting moment of happiness that had existed just before everything crumbled away to dust.

In other lives, however, Kim Taehyung was painfully out of reach. One of you would be of a much higher status than the other, meaning any attraction you felt was forbidden. You could recall a few lives where you ended up being born into a wealthy family and Taehyung had been employed by your family in some way. He had once been a gardener, and another time a cook, and you were fairly sure he had also been a stable boy at some point. But you hated those lives the most. Any interaction with him was dialled down to a minimum and it made your chest ache awfully. Those lives were made of nothing but longing glances and sad smiles.

Kim Taehyung never seemed to remember you. Unlike you, he seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that he had lived hundreds of times before, and that you had been present in each and every one of those existences.

Needless to say, it was heartbreaking to look into the eyes of the man you’d loved for centuries and for him to have absolutely no clue who you were. But it was even more heartbreaking to watch as he fell hopelessly in love with you. The dreadful cycle was doomed to repeat over and over, possibly for eternity.

Because the two of you could never be together.

In every life, without fail, the first kiss with Kim Taehyung was also always the last. You’d spent so many days and nights in complete anguish, wondering why the two of you had been cursed with such a cruel fate.

Because after every first kiss with Kim Taehyung, your body would burst into flames.

Keep reading

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~!

Keep reading

GODDAMNIT THAT WAS PERFECT AND I AM SO MANY EMOTIONS AT THE SAME TIME IDK WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT BUT LIKE 

FIRST OF ALL, CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW KILLIAN JONES JUST LOOKS MILDLY IRRITATED AT POTENTIALLY BEING BURNED AT THE STAKE?

AND EMMA SWAN BURSTS IN, IN TRUE EMMA SWAN FASHION. WITH ONE THIRD OF A PLAN AND A TON OF FUCKING LET’S DOOOOO THIS!

AND KILLIAN IS LIKE OMG IS THIS A FUCKING DREAM EMMA EMMA EMMA EMMA

HE FOLLOWS HER THROUGH A PORTAL JUST LIKE HE DID WHEN THEY FIRST GOT TOGETHER. ALWAYS FOLLOWING HER HOME.

THIS WAS AMAZING BECAUSE HE’S LITERALLY RIGHT ON TOP OF HER AND HE MUST BE HEAVY BUT EMMA’S JUST LIKE YESSSSSS MY PIRTAE IS BACK IN MY ARMS

AND THEY JUST HAVE EYES FOR EACH OTHER. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT? REGINA AND HENRY HELP THEM UP BUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES

CAN ONLY LOOK AND TALK TO EACH OTHER AND CANNOT STOP FUCKING TOUCHING. THIS WHOLE SCENE, THEY’RE CONSTANTLY TOUCHING AND IT HURTS ME. LOOK AT THIS TENDERNESS LIKE THE FUCKKK

AND HER GIVING HIM HIS HOOK BACK BECAUSE SHE KNOWS HOW THAT MUST BE BOTHERING HIM AND YOU CAN TOTALLY TELL HOW INTIMATE OF A MOMENT THIS IS BECAUSE REGINA IS LOOKING AWAY THE WHOLE TIME BECAUSE THIS IS SO COUPLE-Y AND INTIMATE AND THE FUCKING FUCK

AND STILL THEY ONLY LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER AND EMMA’S PUTTING HIS HOOK ON FOR HIM AND I JUST DIE BECAUSE HOW MANY TIMES HAS SHE DONE THIS ALREADY? EARLY IN THE MORNING, PUTTING IT ON FOR HIM BEFORE KISSING HIM GOODBYE OR TAKING IT OFF AT NIGHT WHEN THEY GET HOME AND HIS ARM IS DRAPED AROUND HER ON THE SOFA AND SHE JUST PULLS IT OFF AND I AM JUST IMAGINING A MILLION MOMENTS AND IT IS KILLING MEEE

THE APOLOGIES WERE FUCKING PERFECTION. 

AND THE FACT THAT THEY BOTH APOLOGISED FOR THEIR MISTAKES AND THEIR OWN FEARS IN THE FIGHT THEY HAD AND THE BOTH OF THEM UNDERSTANDING ONE ANOTHER’S FEARS TOO LIKE HOW PERFECT

AND THEN THIS. FUCKING THIS. I KNEW IT WAS COMING. I WAS NOT READY AT ALL. LIKE AND HE EVEN SAID BEFORE I GET THROWN INTO ANOTHER PORTAL AND LIKE REGINA AND HENRY LEAVE BECAUSE IT’S AN INTIMATE MOMENT AND THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT WHY ARE THEY SO PERFECT

AND THE RIGHT WAY THIS TIME HE SAYS. FUCK ME DEAD OK?

AND THIS SPEECH. CARVE IT INTO MY FUCKING SOUL BECAUSE IT CANNOT GET BETTER THAN THIS. HE’S ASSURING HER, PROMISING HER THAT SHE CAN BE CERTAIN OF THE ONE THING SHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN AFRAID OF HER WHOLE LIFE. THAT HE WILL NEVER ABANDON HER. THAT HE WILL BE BY HER SIDE, ALWAYS. SHE CAN BE CERTAIN OF THIS FACT.

THE SKY IS BLUE AND THE GRASS IS GREEN AND KILLIAN JONES WILL ALWAYS BE ON EMMA SWAN’S SIDE.

THIS LOOK KILLS ME. HE IS SO IN LOVE WITH HER AND I AM SO FUCKING HURT.

*THROWS THINGS* FUCK THIS. FUCKING FUCK THE SMILING AND THE CRYING AND THE PURENESS OF THIS MOMENT.

WILL YOU MARRY ME, HE ASKS. AS THOUGH SHE COULD EVER SAY ANYTHING BUT YES. LOOK AT HIS STUPID HAIR AND HIS STUPID EYES FULL OF HOPE AND HIS LIPS IN A HALF SMILE. LOOOOOK

AND THEN SHE FUCKING–SHE FUCKING KNEELS TOO. 

OF COURSE SHE SAID YES BUT FUCKING LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I HAVE BEEN BLESSED ONCE MORE TO SEE THIS HAPPEN IN THE WORLD.

THE PURE, WONDERFUL BEAUTY OF KILLIAN JONES AND EMMA SWAN IN LOVE.

THE FUCK IS THISSSSSS. THE SMILING AND THE FACE TOUCHING AND THE SMILING AND THE FOREHEAD LEANING AND THE SMILING UGHH

SHE’S MUSSED UP HIS HAIR AND SHE WON’T STOP TOUCHING HIMMMM 

THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HIM WHEN HE’S NOT LOOKING? THAT SLAYS ME MORE THAN ANYTHING EVER. SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH. LOOK AT THOSE EYES.

LOOK AT THEMMM *THROWS MORE THINGS*

AND FUCKING SNOW WHITE AND PRINCE CHARMING WENT INTO A SLEEPING CURSE

TO SAVE HIM AND HE’S LIKE FUCKING FUCK BECAUSE WHO WOULD EVER AND HE’S GOT SO MANY PEOPLE WHO LOVE HIM NOW AND HE’S JUST OVERWHELMED

BUT THEY NEVER LET GO OF EACH OTHER’S HANDS KILL ME DEAD

I AM NOT A HUMAN ANYMORE.

MY BODY IS A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR.

HELP, I NEED A HUG.

-A POEM BY A DECEASED FANGIRL

anonymous asked:

Just stay with me: marichat?

Marinette huddled under her blanket, her hands clutched around a mug of steaming tea to help fight off the cold. 

She didn’t want to go inside. 

She had thought she had seen the worst of it. She had faced down so many akumas. She had fought against her best friend with barely a flinch of hesitation, knowing that she could do what needed to be done and that everything would be alright. She thought there was nothing she couldn’t handle. 

She had never thought she might have to fight her own mother. 

Marinette huddled further into the corner of her terrace. 

They had been victorious of course. Cleansing the akuma and restoring the city to rights. But while the superficial damage may have been repaired, the emotional damage was taking a toll that Marinette had never realized was possible until it struck at the heart of her own family. 

The attack last night had been all over the news. They always were. The first time the footage aired that morning Marinette had watched in horror as her usually indomitable mother had burst into tear, shutting herself in the bedroom and leaving a silent Tom and Marinette to finish the morning preparation. The normally bustling bakery had been a ghost town, and even though Marinette was off from school her father had told her there was little she could help with and to go enjoy her day off since there wasn’t much to be done.

Alya had insisted that this was normal and would die down in a day or two, sending Marinette several links to articles and interviews she had done on the subject. It didn’t do much to lift Marinette’s spirits, but she couldn’t help but feel an awed sense of pride at the incredible dedication her friend had towards her site.  

Sabine had of course eventually recovered after a few hours. Coming down and joining Tom in the empty shop, but in spite of her attempts to act as though everything was fine, the general atmosphere was sullen. Tom had ultimately retreated to the kitchen to take his frustrations out on a new bread recipe he had wanted to try, and Marinette had retreated to her balcony. 

She felt like a failure. 

She kept seeing the image of her mother- twisted and transformed into one of Hawkmoths minions, glaring at her lunging forward to rob her of her Miraculous. 

It had been by far one of her worst fights. Her mind had been unable to focus, instead racing with questions and wondering if she could have stopped this. 

Thank God for Chat. He had immediately registered her distress and more than picked up the slack, taking the lead for a change. He had forsaken his habitual good humored flirting and managed the battle with a quiet, efficient intensity that she would not have expected from her usually exuberant partner.

It had been over in a matter of minutes, one of their shorter battles if she was being honest. But it had somehow felt like an eternity, and she had barely been able to get through the traditional fist bump before fleeing the scene so that no one would see her burst into tears. 

Now here she was, huddled helplessly against the wind, her face stained with tears that had been falling on and off for the last few hours, ashamed to go inside. 

She heard the sound of footfalls on the roof and looked up expecting to see her father. Instead she was met with the concerned green eyes of her partner. 

“Chat… what are you doing here?” she asked fighting the urge to attempt to straighten up her appearance. 

“I like to check up on the victims after the attacks,” he said collapsing his baton and stowing it behind his back. 

“I wasn’t the victim.” 

“I know. I already spoke to your mother down in the bakery.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, surprised, “How…” she trailed off. 

“She’ll be ok,” Chat said coming to sit down beside her. “She was blaming herself for something she had no control over.” He gave Marinette an assessing glance. “Seems to be a trait with the Cheng women I see.” 

She laughed softly then scooted closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. Too tired and too heartsick to care that she was untransformed and therefore shouldn’t be showing this level of familiarity.

Chat’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but he made no effort to stop her, only adjusting slightly so they fit together in a more comfortable angle. 

“I didn’t know you did this,” she said quietly. 

“Did what?”

“Visited with the victims. It’s very kind of you.” 

“No one should have to go through something like this alone,” he said, “pain is worse if you don’t talk to anyone about it. It can change you, leave you broken. Even hurt the people around you.” 

“You sound like you have some experience on the subject.” 

“I might.” 

She nodded slightly and took a small sip of her tea. “Do you talk to all of the victims?” she asked curiously. 

“No, not all of them. Some of them don’t need it, I’ll go to check in on them and they will already be on the road to recovery. Your friend Alya for example. She had her own ways of coping.” 

“You should have talked to her anyways. You know she would have adored getting a personal visit from Chat Noir.”

“You know in retrospect you are right,” he said with a small smile. “Next time I’m on patrol I’ll make a point of letting her catch me for an interview. Unless you want to make my life easier and just help with a set up?” 

“She’s coming over for a sleepover tomorrow night,” Marinette said feeling warmer for the first time all day.

“I’ll be sure to coincidentally land on your balcony during my rounds. Say around 9:00?” 

Marinette smiled. 

“So, who was the most difficult person for you to talk to?” she asked. 

Chat thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Probably the little girl, the one who stole all your dolls, remember?” 

“You talked to Manon?” 

“Yeah, that one was rough. Not gonna lie I went home that night and put together a Hawkmoth dart board. Might have gotten a little carried away. Even stabbed the thing with a fencing sword if you can believe it.” 

Marinette laughed, pressing closer against her partner and he wrapped an arm around her. 

“That’s actually kind of fantastic,” she said, “Do you still have it?” 

“Nah, my father made me take it down. I think it freaked him out that I was violently lashing out what most of Paris thinks of as some unknown mystical super being.” 

“What do you think of him as?” 

“Exactly what he is- some guy in a suit who thinks its ok to terrorize innocent people for his own selfish gain. He might have powers but he’s just an ordinary man.” 

“Like you are?” she said, looking up at him and for the first time desperately wishing she could know the boy behind the mask. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Marinette sipping on her tea without really tasting it and Chat rubbing his hand idly up and down her arm over the blanket. 

“Why did you come to talk to me?” Marinette asked at last. 

“Because you looked like you needed a friend,” he replied. 

“I do,” she admitted, hating the pricking of tears she could feel returning to her eyes, “I really do.” 

“Is there anything I can do for you princess?” he asked tenderly, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in close. 

“Just stay with me.” 


Look I did angst!!!! Part of my 4 word prompt drabbles. Not taking on new ones atm just finishing the ones I have. 

Sharing Is Caring (M)

Originally posted by sunshine-hobi

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Seokjin
Genre: lowkey pwp, um…this is literally filthy smut with my faves lol, oral, lowkey cum play, slight spanking, whole lotta dirty talk, explicit language (eg: cum slut, whore etc), slight thigh riding, dry humping, minor breathplay, minor gagging/choking, bondage, mentions of DP/anal, mxm themes, threesome, mutual masturbation, slight rimming, orgasm denial, Model!Reader, CEO!JinKook, Dom!JinKook
Word Count: 5.8k+ (holy crap…)
A/N: Okay this was supposed to be posted on the 1st, but I only finished editing and writing everything now ;-; yes this was my birthday present to myself lmao. Feedback is always appreciated! I really hope you enjoy because I literally died while writing it

  • Summary: “We love to share everything baby girl. Isn’t that right Jungkook?” The younger man nodded, the smirk not having left his ridiculously handsome face just yet. Jin pressed himself against you, fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt with ease as Jungkook helped the flimsy material slide off your legs, pooling on the floor. Jin slyly ran his fingers across the top of your already soaked panties. “Mind if we share your mouth tonight? You know what they say; sharing is caring.”

Jeon Jungkook. An young man who supported dark locks, cheeky smirks and quick fucks with his secretary, or rather, his secretaries when time allowed (which to his delight, was every morning and at every lunch break - unless he had meetings of course). As the owner of Jeon Magazine, a company that was entirely dedicated in making models look their absolute best and create monthly editions to sell in the shops meant Jungkook was practically living in money, but that also meant he was constantly under the spotlight, his every move being captured.

Every women he ended up sleeping with (which would be two of regular secretaries), would rave on about how good he was, how great his mouth was, how great his hips were when they were being pounded into the bedsheets at ghastly hours of the night, probably managing to wake up the neighbours next door, only managing to fuel Jungkook’s ego. If anyone threatened to tell the press, he wouldn’t hesitate to threaten them back - either that or he’d pay them a shit load of money so they could keep their mouth shut with something that wasn’t his cock.

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Terms and Conditons. (Jeon Jungkook.)

Originally posted by jeony

Requested – Yes.

Prompt – Jungkook was out looking for a new flavor of the month and his eyes land on a certain previously taken girl.

Warning – This is a sugar daddy Jungkook scenario. Slight angst, more angst in the future and smut. This smut includes daddy kink.

Words – 2,259. 

Requests?

The energy was heightened as groups of individuals danced around the large ballroom held for an extravagant party. Jeon Jungkook was known to be quite a party planner when it came to his business because he always wanted to make a strong entrance plus he wanted to impress the girls that might be lucky enough to land in his bed that night.

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I FINALLY went and saw Beauty and the Beast today...

 … and I feel like there are some thing that I should bring to your attention.


- “belle” was so wonderful and colorful and just exploding with creativity 

- there was literally a harry potter reference iM DEAD

- i genuinely like Gaston?? like he doesn’t seem bad at all until the end?? when she denied him he literally just backed off??

- belle’s weapon of choice is a stick so 

- “so let’s go to the east wing, or as i like to call it, the ONLY wing” lumiERE YOU’RE NOT SLY

- okay the scene with lumiere right before “be our guest” was amazing 

- “if the master finds out what you’re planning, he’ll blame it on me!” “yes i’ll make sure of it”

- “a broken clock is right two times a day, but this is not one of those times”

- “mm, i don’t have taste buds but I’m sure this is exquisite!”

- oh and lumiere dabbed

- belle being So Done with adam for the entirety of the movie

- honestly i just loved plumette like she was so cute

- gaston (the song) made me want to dance on top of tables so 

- belle’s little giggles after the beast walks away from her in the library

- FRICKIN EVERMORE.

- lefou’s slow but AMAZING character arc (”i was on gaston’s side but we’re in a bad place rn”)

- maurice’s conversation with d’arque killed me omg

- “grandmother?!” yeah you go mrs potts attack everyone

- belle being SUCH a badass during the fight scene

- tbh i wasn’t ready for gaston’s death i just wanted a character arc

- okay so was no one weirded out by agatha just standing there?? like did belle not notice that there was some creepy lady staring creepily at the rose and making creepy faces?

- uM i wasn’t okay with the dog being upside down fight me disney

- but the scene where they’re all freezing and the scene where the curse is lifted was SO CUTE aH

- i have SO MUCH to say about LeFou because omg he was so cute with gaston but that little tiny part at the end when he was dancing with that other dude was amazing

-okay but prince adam’s growl at the end had me so shook? boi who gave you the right? i was not prepared?

- emma and dan belle and prince adam are legit goals. the dancing scene at the end was wonderful (”how do you feel about growing a beard?”

- WHERE TF WAS HUMAN AGAIN? LIKE DID THAT SONG NEVER EXIST? WAS THAT SONG A MASS HALLUCINATION?

- also same at madame garderobe for always carrying around her dog

- okay. let’s talk about how many diverse characters there were including a mAIN CHARACTER BEING GAY AND ADORABLE. like the librarian was supposed to be an elderly white man but nAH HE’S AFRICAN AMERICAN AND YOUNG

- basically disney hit it out of the park and i am now in love with this movie ant it’s cast

anonymous asked:

"You dont want me" ladynoir

Ladybug sat at the top of the Eiffel Tower, her head in her hands, wondering how she could have possibly screwed things up SO badly. 

She heard the light footfall of her partner landing behind her. She couldn’t say she was surprised, he had never been one to leave her to stew in her own misery. 

“So…” he drawled, coming and sitting beside her, “that was an interesting broadcast today.” 

“It was a disaster,” she moaned, still not looking up at him, “I should just throw myself off this tower and put myself out of my misery.” 

“Oh come on, it’s not as bad as all that,” Chat said, patting her awkwardly on the back. 

She turned and glared at him. “It was a live stream, Chat! LIVE! It’s out there. Right now!” 

“True,” he conceded, nodding his head, “but it’s not like you said anything horrible. It was kinda cute actually.” 

“You don’t understand,” she moaned, slumping over so until she was curled up in his lap, “I’ve ruined everything! What sort of an idiot starts babbling about their crush on a live broadcast.” 

“Well, apparently you,” Chat said with a light laugh, cautiously reaching forward to play with the ends of her hair, “and about half of the rest of the known world. It could be a lot worse buginette.” 

“Do you think there is a chance he didn’t see it?” she asked hopefully, looking up at her partner’s thoughtful expression. 

He gave her a pitying smile. “I think you’re pretty much out of luck their bugaboo. You already have a ship name and everything. It’s trending on twitter.” 

“Ugh, that’s terrible,” she groaned, curling up tighter and burying her face against his leg. 

“I don’t know,” Chat teased, “I thought Ladrien had kind of a nice ring to it.” 

“This can’t be happening,” she moaned. 

“Hey, come on. What’s this really about? Is it really going to be so awful for the guy to know you like him? He might be flattered.” 

“It’s not that,” Ladybug said softly, “I mean, it’s MORE than that. I haven’t even told him I liked him- as myself, my not Ladybug self I mean. And now… let’s say he does feel flattered? That just means I have made myself my own competition! And it’s not like I can just go up to him and be like: Hey, by the way I’m Ladybug and, as you already know, I’m totally in love with you! Want to date me now?” 

“Oh god,” Chat said with a sudden sense of horror, “there are going to be so many desperate fangirls trying to do that.” 

“I didn’t even think about that! If he didn’t before he’s definitely going to hate me now. I might be the only person in the world who can simultaneously confess to her crush and make it harder for him to notice me!”  

“You really are one of a kind there bugaboo,” Chat said giving her another reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“And what if this puts him in danger? I mean I might as well have stamped a butterfly tattoo across his back saying property of Ladybug, please exchange for one miraculous!” 

“Please don’t do that. I am told that models need to be very particular about what they put on their skin.” 

“It’s not funny. What if I honestly made him a target?”

“Hey,” Chat said “I promise you, if anything happens I will be the first person on the scene.” 

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, reaching up and catching his hand in her own.

“So, you’re in love with the model boy,” Chat said softly, rubbing his thumb absently against the back of her hand, “gotta say I didn’t see that one coming.” 
“Yeah well, it’s not like it really matters anymore,” she sighed, “it’s not like it would ever happen.” 

He scoffed at her, rolling his eyes theatrically to show his clear contempt for her pessimism. “So tell me My Lady,” he asked shifting slightly so that he could look down at her with a playful smile, “what is it that you see in this guy anyways?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“You don’t want me, so clearly you aren’t after the guy for his looks,” Chat said wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“No,” Ladybug laughed, “although they don’t hurt.” 

“Why My Lady, was that you finally admitting that you find me attractive?” 

“You’ve always been attractive and you know it,” she said reaching up and flicking his bell. “As you can see I’ve just had my attentions elsewhere.” 

“Oh so this is a long standing attachment then? How long have you been dreaming of being M’Lady Agreste?” he teased poking her lightly on the nose. 

“Almost from the first day I met him. It will be two years next week,” she said softly. 

“The start of school,” Chat murmured, “you know him then?” 

“yeah,” she admitted reaching blindly around to catch his other hand and pull him to her like a security blanket. “We were in the same class in college and we still have a few classes together now. Plus our friends are dating so we hang out a lot.” 

“You two are close then,” Chat said a little breathlessly, “that… well that certainly clears things up.” 
“Yeah,” Ladybug said, “it’s not just some creepy celebrity crush. I mean, it kind of was that too. I have like 2 dozen photos of him plastered on my wall that I used to practice talking to because for the longest time I could barely string a sentence together around him, it was kind of embarrassing. I got over it eventually, but by that point I didn’t really have the heart to take the pictures down.” 

Chat gave her a warm smile. “I can see it now, you stuttering and tripping and shooting the poor confused boy adorable awkward smiles before running off in the opposite direction.” 

“Shut up,” Ladybug said but she couldn’t help grinning at her partners soft tone and fond smile. “I got better.” 

“I know.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and gave her a delicate kiss. “So you still haven’t told me what you see in this guy,” he challenged, “If I am getting demoted to your rebound choice I deserve to know what I am up against,” he said slyly. 

“He’s kind,” Ladybug smiled, filling with warmth as she thought about her love. “He always wants to see the best in people,and he… he is just good, you know? The kind of goodness that doesn’t come from ignorance or being sheltered, but that has seen pain and and heartache and loss and yet still chooses to be good. 

“That is high praise indeed My Lady.” 

“You aren’t going to make fun of me for this?” 

“No My Lady. If anything I am going to love you more for it.” 

She gave him another grateful smile before sitting up. The sun had begun to set and she knew she should be getting home. She probably had a dozen of so missed calls from Alya waiting for her. 

“Well who knows,” she said attempting to be flippant. “Maybe he’ll finally just reject me and I will change my mind about you Kitty.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a twist,” Chat laughed climbing to his feet and offering her his hand to help her up as well. 

“It would probably be for the best,” she sighed. “It’s not like we can be together. Not with Hawkmoth still on the loose. There is too much at stake. And I don’t know if I could bear having to hide my identity in a relationship.” 

Chat grinned again. “You are very wise My Lady.” 

“Mostly I am just telling myself that so I can feel better,” she admitted and was rewarded with a loud melodious laugh. 

“You know,” he said, eyes twinkling “you are probably right. Clandestine meetings, midnight makeout sessions, it’s probably better to hold out for the real thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Besides, I hate to break it to you My Lady but I have a sinking feeling that #Ladrien is not to be.” 

“And why is that Kitty?” 

“Well,” Chat said looking out at the sunset, “not to be the bearer of bad news but I have it on very good authority that your lover is very much spoken for.” 

“oh?” Ladybug said trying not to let her disappointment show. 

“Yes, completely and hopelessly in love. Someone at his school in fact.” 

“And who is this mystery girl?” she asked. 

“It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” Chat said his eyes glittering with something she couldn’t quite name, “it will come to me. I’ll have to tell you next time I see you.” 

“Well thanks for the heads up,” she said leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “and thanks for cheering me up.” 

“Always My Lady. I should probably get heading home myself.” he pulled out his staff and and extended it. 

“Oh,” he said, shooting her a final grin as prepared to depart, “I do remember one thing.”
“And what’s that?” 

“The mystery girl, I knew there was something about her that I found particularly delectable.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Her parent’s own a bakery.”  

jungkook scenario | butterflies

🦋 We’ve had this tradition as besties to have a sleepover once a year but this year….it feels different…were your pajamas always this cute??…did I always have butterflies???

💌 requested by @imshalida // 700 words // fluff

Originally posted by bottomkookie

Jungkook can’t ignore it. The butterflies are back. They clutter his stomach, they clog his chest, and he wishes they would just let him sleep.

But it’s three in the morning, and he’s lying awake, and lying to himself that he isn’t in love with you.

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You have to tell me (Zach Dempsey, 13 Reasons)

The tapes were a complex situation to say the least. Zach Dempsey knew everyone’s dirty laundry. He did and everyone’s tape varied in how much it weighed on him. Justin’s second tape, that was shitty. He had to admit he didn’t look at his friend the same way anymore. Zach, he had a girlfriend now. He’d been talking to her for months until she finally agreed to go out with him. Quiet, but in theater and dance, Y/N never really wanted to date jocks. He pursued her for a while.

She had the wrong class with him, biology. Watching him in the class was captivating. He was so engrossed in the material and it was obvious he loved it more than basketball. She’d gotten stuck at basketball games because her friends would want to go. She’d seen how good Zach was. Probably the best on the entire team. But there was a look in his eyes that he got when he learned more about biology. AP biology was the only advanced placement class he took.

That’s when she knew he was different. After being made table partners in biology, she noticed him staring at her during tests and other activities where the teacher wasn’t lecturing. He started sitting with her at lunch. At first her friends stayed, but then they moved over a table, leaving the two of them alone. His friends watched from afar, with huge grins on their faces. She didn’t really know what Zach Dempsey’s intentions were.

He seemed different, but at the same time, at times he would speak like any other jock would to a girl. She tried to bore him at first, it didn’t work. Even if she was completely silent, he would sit there, watching her eat, a slight smile on his face.

After two months of lunches like this, she opened up to him. She began to like him. He began to sound like a person when he talked, rather than a fumbling idiot. And sooner rather than later she was his official girlfriend.

It was Tuesday, the day she and Zach would get together and study. Or ‘study’ depending on how much biology they had to work on. The last few Tuesdays had been weird. Usually, they’d get home right after school so they could beat her parents home, and they’d fool around. Right away, he’d get handsy. The last few Tuesday’s it hadn’t been like that. She had to initiate everything. He’d let her do some things to him, but he wouldn’t really do anything for her. On this Tuesday, she leaned in and kissed his neck, he didn’t really move and continued to read out of the biology textbook.

“Okay, I know I’ve gained weight. We just need to stop going for dessert so much. But am I really that gross? We haven’t been together that long. This is the honeymoon stage. We’re supposed to fool around. Like constantly.” Zach shut his book, laying back on the bed, looking more than beaten down.

“Not every couple’s the same- we don’t have to do stuff constantly.” He said, still reading out of the textbook. She felt herself turn bright red.

She backed away from him, cuddling up to a pillow at the head of the bed. He sighed, shutting his textbook.

“It’s not you, of course it’s not you. Come here.” He laid next to her, his arms snaking around her waist. He eventually moving to where he was on top of her, hovering.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled. She nodded, guiding his hands up her shirt. She didn’t respond verbally, she just ran her hands through his hair as he kissed down her neck. He suddenly rolled over, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and button up his shirt.

“Okay, you have to tell me what’s wrong, Zach. Do I bore you now? What’s wrong?” He was breathing heavily, but he wouldn’t look up at her.

“I just never want you to be overpowered. Or trapped.” His head was now buried in his hands. She couldn’t tell if he was crying or not.

“What are you talking about? If I was uncomfortable I would tell you.” She crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind.

“Promise me that.” He mumbled, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“I promise. But why are you freaking out about this all of a sudden?” She asked in almost a whisper.

“I’m huge, I’m 6'3 and your so small an-” she cut him off, letting out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve always been a tree, and I’ve always been small, compared to you. There’s something else going on.” She got off the bed and went to her desk, taking a makeup removing wipe and beginning to take all of her makeup off. She was simply finding something to do.

She didn’t know what to expect of his answer. She wondered if he knew how much this was eating at her.

“Y/N it’s not your fault. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry if you don’t get it I-” she sighed, not understanding how he was so dense.

“You’re hurting me by not telling me what the hell is going on, Zach! You’ve been acting weird for weeks now.” Her eyes became watery.

She wasn’t sad, necessarily, but she had severe anxiety that would force her to tears at times. Whether she was sad, or nervous, or frustrated. Sometimes even if she was confused. This was one of those times. Zach knew she was getting anxious and concern filled his eyes as soon as he saw the tears.

“Hey, hey-” she turned her back to him sharply, bowing her head as she tried to catch her breath.

“Get out. Now. Leave.” She said, still not turning to look at him. He rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what else to do.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Some stuff has happened and I don’t know how to feel.” She felt herself softening. She sniffled, biting her lip as she regained her composure.

“Specifics.” She said simply. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how to tell her. But he knew he had to. He could feel her trust slipping through his fingers.

“It’s just- a friend of mine. I found out he raped a girl. Actually, he raped two. And it got me thinking- I just- I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I ever did something and you were uncomfortable. I love you. I hate the idea of hurting you.” She turned around, he wasn’t crying, but he was trembling.

She covered her mouth, tears spilling out of her eyes. Someone she likely knew was a rapist. She didn’t know what to think. Of course she was curious. Who the hell was the rapist among Zach’s friends?

She felt dirty, as it was true that she hung out with them quite frequently.

“You’re not a rapist, Zach. I’d tell you if I didn’t want to. You have to trust that I trust you. You have to trust yourself.” She took his hand and led him to sit on the edge of her bed.

She sat on his lap, hugging his head against her chest. She did this quite a lot. He said he loved hearing her heartbeat, that it made him feel less lonely.

“If you’re worried about consent, I give it to you every time. I’ve never been uneasy or wary about anything.” He let out a groan. She looked at him as he looked around.

He acted as if he was thinking about what to say next.

“What qualifies as consent? Words, I guess. But how else am I supposed to know for sure?” She smiled at him. It wasn’t a great topic, sure. But he cared. He was showing how much he cared and that was beautiful.

“I guess I don’t really know. But, do you know how many times I’ve shoved you off of me? A lot. But guess what?” She looked at him. He bit back a smile, probably thinking of how hormonal he could be at times. He mumbled for her to continue, his cheeks blushed over a bit.

“After I push you away, you don’t keep at it. You accept my answer. All the times I haven’t given consent, you’ve listened.” He smiled and she grabbed his face, making him look at her. She looked him in the eyes for a while.

“Maybe you’re trying to keep me out of this for my benefit but.. please tell me you’re going to report this. Or that someone has already reported it.” He looked away from her. How was he going to tell her that he’d given the evidence to the next person?

“I-I don’t have the evidence anymore. It’s this process. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. It’ll come out, though. And if it doesn’t, I’ll- I’ll go to the police.” She smiled sadly at him, wrapping her arms around him. He would, she knew he would.

DIDNT KNOW ID GET TWO UP TODAY! Keep requesting all! If I haven’t responded to you, don’t think that I didn’t get them, I’m working on them all and have a lineup. There will be a part two of this to simply fill the request’s specifics more, so look for that. Thanks :)

“Are You Okay?” - Jeff Atkins

Summary : Montgomery asks you for help in chemistry, but turns out he doesn’t really want to study. The conversation gets a little out of hands and Jeff is the one who comes to calm things down.

Pairing : Jeff Atkins x Reader

Words count : 860

Warnings : Mature and graphic language

A/N : I wrote this in half an hour and it’s not that good. Also, english isn’t my first language so sorry if there is any mistakes. Send your request!

Originally posted by knightlley

Like every other day, I stopped by my locker to pick up my books. While opening it, I spotted Jeff. So did he, and we both smiled at each other as a ‘hello’. How mind blowing his smile was. I couldn’t help but think that every time I saw it. As I picked my books, I started to hear whispers behind me. At first, I wasn’t paying attention to them, but then some words caught my ears.

“Go ahead!” This sentence was repeated a few times by different guys. “Yeah, go!” And then some laughter came out from their mouths.

As I turned around, Montgomery de la Cruz, surrounded by his friends, was leaning against the lockers behind me. When they caught me looking at them, they all went silence with a playful smile on their lips. I started to feel uncomfortable, so I rapidly closed my locker and started to walk out.

“Y/N!” I couldn’t even take two steps that I was stopped by someone grabbing my arm. My eyes laid on Montgomery, again, who had a stupid smile stuck on his face. “Hey. Hum-” He glanced over at his friends, all laughing. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, hum- sure.” It felt like i was being played and it wasn’t a good feeling, at all.

“So, I need help in chemistry and I was wondering if you could help me, with… stuff, you know?” I was surprise by his request as I’m not good at all in chemistry. But he probably doesn’t know that.

“I would like to help you, but i’m failing in chemistry so I can’t do much for you.” I was ready for him to answer something so I could mind my own business again, but he didn’t.

“Oh, you know, it’s okay. You can still come by my house. We won’t have to study.” His rested his hand against the locker to our left, his face leaning closer to me. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about, and I couldn’t be more disgusted.

“Are you kidding me? Won’t happen for anything in the world.” My voice suddenly raised with how angry I was at him. His friends started laughing at him, at how I rejected him.

“What the fuck guys? Stop!” He looked back at me with anger in his eyes. “A slut like you will come back and beg for it at some point.” His voice was so loud that it stopped many conversation around us. People were staring at us. No sounds were coming out of my mouth at this point. “What? Don’t have anything to say now?” His arms were wide open, like he was confronting me to fight back.

I looked around me to find comforting eyes, but everyone was just waiting for me to make a move. My mouth was hang open, shocked by the humiliation. Eventually, my eyes laid on Jeff in the crowd of people.

“Are you waiting for my dick with your mouth open like that?” At this point, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“What the fuck?” I stepped closer to him. “Stop it!” I started pushing him back with the little strength I had. “Who do you think you are!?” I kept pushing him harder. More people were coming around us to see what was happening.

I just kept screaming at him, letting my anger out, when at some point I felt a pair of arms around my waists, pushing me back. I barely saw who it was, they already had their back in front of me, facing Montgomery.

“What the hell, man? What do you think you’re doing here?” Jeff was the one standing in front of me, defending me. No respond was heard from Montgomery.

“Let’s go.” He finally said. He passed by me with his friends, his eyes still filled with anger.

“Let’s go people, there’s nothing to see.” Jeff stated to the crowd that started to dissolve. He then faced me, putting his hands on my shoulders, a worry look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Humiliated.” I was looking at the floor, so embarrassed to look at him after what happened.

“Hey.” He lifted my head up with his hand. “Montgomery is an ass, you can’t let what he said bring you down.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” As my respond wasn’t that convincing, he took a step closer and took me in his arms. His embrace was very comforting, with his hand stroking my hair and the other on my back. I could have stopped time to stay like this a little longer.

The last bell of the day rang, letting everyone know it was time to go home. We moved away from each other, and he faced me with an adorable smile. I couldn’t help but smile back at him and blushed.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked to me, nicely.

“Actually, yes.” I answered, taking the opportunity offered to me.

destielisgonnabecanon  asked:

hey there, i'm writing an essay about how destiel is real for a friend of mine and I was wondering what you think the most important pieces of meta that i should put in? can you recommend anything?

Hi - wow, that’s some dedication. All I did for my friends was send them some links - and, on one memorable occasion, I spent one entire 30 minutes conversation occasionally glancing at my (female&blinded by heteronormativity) friend’s lips instead of looking at her eyes, and by the end of it she was uncomfortable af and half convinced I was into her, and that’s when I presented her with a list of gifsets like -

- and basically dropped my mic and sashayed out.

(Man, I wish my hair was long enough to be flicked back.)

She changed her mind after that, by the way. And it’s really weird how most behaviours and gestures are used on screen precisely because we understand them as human things we all do on a deep level, and yet we’re suddenly unable to figure out what they mean if they’re not about a man and a woman. Uh.

(That applies to me as well, by the way. We see what we know about, not what is actually there, and that’s just inevitable - but can be unlearned, with some patience and many, many mistakes.)

Anyway, here are a bunch of things - I hope they’re useful.


Also, the entire S8, which was basically a demented Jane Eyre AU, and the entire S11, because, again, that Amara thing didn’t make sense without Destiel subtext, and finally @deanswingsbothways’ drunken rant (spoiler: contains the line “Destiel is not a story we are telling each other. Destiel is a story we are being told.” and bless).

You should also consider pimping your essay a bit, because there are a lot of posts and gifsets about how Destiel is regularly paralleled with canon couples on Supernatural, or follows the same rules as romantic relationships in movies. Here’s a bunch of them: Destiel and Sam/JessDestiel vs Dean/AnnaDestiel vs Sam/Amelia, Destiel vs David/VioletDestiel and Spuffy, Destiel and Clexa, Destiel and Phoebe/ColeDestiel vs Charlie/Gilda, Destiel vs every other couple on SupernaturalDestiel and Lucifer having funDestiel and romantic movies, Destiel and the Doctor, Destiel and Belle/Rumplestiltskin, Destiel and Tangled, Destiel and Saileen, and, of course, the beautiful and despairing trainwreck that was Repo Man.

And finally, there was that one time I went crazy and spent an entire weekend mapping every single love trope they’ve ever used around those two idiots in love, because I was just that fed up and the thing’s there, okay, and the more they say it’s not the more layers of tropes and mirrors and longing glances and narrative parallels they keep slathering on top of this thing, so, whatever and who even knows. At this point, you’re free to say it’ll never go canon because they’re homophobic or assume their audience is homophobic, and you’re free to say it’ll never go canon because of internal narrative reasons (God knows both Dean and Cas are never going to believe they’re actually good enough for each other), but to say there’s nothing there at all - that’s beyond whatever.

Anyway, my post is here, and these were the final conclusions:

As you may have guessed, this is something I’m sort of interested in - I came for the monsters and started to reblog stuff out of spite when I realized I was being treated like a crazy fangirl who sees love everywhere because women (right). If you’re looking for more sugary goodness, I tag stuff as destiel, spn meta (my own opinions), awesome meta (other people’s opinions), love tropes and parallels, and you can also have a look at some excellent meta writers who have eyes and therefore see Destiel and sometimes discuss it - people like @elizabethrobertajones​, @grey2510​, @tinkdw​, @bluestar86​, @mittensmorgul​, @floralmotif​, @k-vichan, @treefrogie84, @thevioletcaptain or @postmodernmulticoloredcloak (and I know I’m forgetting someone - that’s what sleeping four hours does to you, sorry). So, again - I know this post is a bit ‘join our cult’ (which is what you asked for, but still), but really - what I like about this fandom is that we can talk about stuff and we can disagree about stuff and still be friends, but this new idea currently spreading in the real world like wildfire - that not only you can have your own opinions (totally legit), but you can also have your own facts - nope. I hope your friend reads your essay (you’re welcome to share it, by the way) and sees that yes, there’s objectively something going on. If they still don’t, the final test is, “What if Cas were a woman? Would you see it then?” 

(And we all know the answer to that question, don’t we?)

Seriously, good luck.


EDIT - More great meta

( @destielisgonnabecanon - you’re welcome! Go win that bet! 😁)

technically single || stuart twombly (smut)

word count: 6278

warnings: oral (both receiving), smut, strip club, unestablished relationship

author’s note: so i was listening to the way i are by timbaland and i just felt the need to use it as some sinsipration! enjoy xo

pairing: stuart twombly / reader

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