if they colours are really pale for you it's not how they should look like


Summary: Dan is an innocent virgin and Phil is the bad-boy who likes to make him flustered. High school Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil AU

Genre: Smut that’s kinda kinky but mostly cute

Word count: 4,039

Kinks: Feminization, daddy kink, dirty talk, a little verbal humiliation

You can also read on AO3 here.

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Butterfly Wings


Lance was not happy.
Allura had woken them up two hours earlier then normal to tell them that two of them had a mission.
Once the terror of being woken up by a loud blaring alarm passed, everyone settled in as the Princess explained she was sending Keith and Lance to a jungle like planet and needed the others awake as to help monitor the mission.

Twenty minutes later the two were flying down in red to the planets surface, with Lance pouting the whole time.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t of done this later.”
Keith rolled his eyes not even bothering to look back at the blue paladin.
“Because there’s only a small window where the storm clouds are safe to pass through.”
Lance blinked in surprise. If there were storm clouds then would there be rain?
Lance suddenly found his legs bouncing up and down as nervous energy eradicated any lingering tiredness in his system.
The landed on a sandy outcrop just on the edge of a large jungle.
The plan was to go in and find this supposed miracle plant that could be used to heal a person almost as well as the pods.
After more then one close call Allura had decided it would be best for the Paladins to be equipped with something for out in the field.
Lance practically ran out of Red, taking his helmet off just so he could breath in the familiar scent of ozone that only came before a storm.
“What’s got you so excited all of a sudden?” Keith asked joining him on the sand.
“Smells like home.” Lance grinned while Keith watched him.
He didn’t really understand what Lance was talking about, but he looked too happy to question it.
“Ok… come on we have work to do.”
Lance gave him a mocking salute “sir yes sir.” He smirked back at Keith as he walked into the forest.
Walking through the thick foliage was difficult on the two of them.
The fact that the air was stiflingly hot too didn’t help.
They barley made it a mile before they were both drenched in sweat and out of breath.
When Keith had stumbled for the third time into Lance, he had enough.
“Let’s take a break.” Keith decided.
“What’s the matter got shot? Can’t handle a little walk?” Lance tried to sound cocky, but the fact he was practically gasping for breath afterwards suggested he needed a break just as much as Keith.
“Humour me.” Keith shrugged as he sat down on a large purple moss covered tree branch.
After a moment Lance joined him, the two heavily breathing and sitting in comfortable silence.
Then the rain started.
It came on so hard and suddenly that it was like someone above them had turned on a faucet.
Keith had groaned thinking about how much harder their mission was going to be with the poor visibility. When he looked over at Lance to complain he found the words die in his mouth.
Lance was staring straight up with the biggest smile of his face.
His hair was plastered to his head and Keith decided to pretend that the tears running down his cheeks were just rain drops.
For a single moment, the world seemed quite as Lance watched the rain and Keith watched Lance with equal fascination.
Then the branch The were sitting on woke up.

The two were suddenly flung from their seats hitting the floor roughly.
Keith hit a tree having the air knocked from his lungs.
He couldn’t figure out what had happened until he saw what resembled a giant green gorilla with a long thick tail and razor sharp claws standing over him.
He grabbed his bayard and quickly turning it into its sword for right as the creature swiped at him.
Keith managed to roll out of the way, avoiding being sliced in half like the tree directly behind him.
The creature tried to grab him but a cut to the hand made it back off, but not for long.
It swung its giant tail like a battening ram, moving much faster then anything that size should be able to.
Keith couldn’t help but wonder why Lance wasn’t helping him.
He dodged under the tail and got his answer.
Lance was sitting on the ground looking confused.
There was blood running down his face from a head wound.
Keith cursed under his breath, he looked pretty out of it.
The second he spent distracted was all the time the creature needed, grabbing Keith with one of its giant hand, pinning his arms by his side.
“Lance!” Keith yelled struggling helplessly as the creature brought him closer to his face.
Keith closed his eyes sure he was about to become a giant monkeys dinner, when he hears the familiar sound of Lance’s gun being fired.
Keith was suddenly dropped and the creature was holding its eye in pain.
It blindly swipes at Lance hitting it’s mark and sending him flying.
Keith didn’t waste his chance.
He drove his sword through its neck and jumped off as it fell to the ground dead.
“Lance?” Keith asked looking in the direction the blue paladin lay.
He crept over to him gasping at the sight.
A single deep claw mark was slashed across Lance’s torso stretching from his right shoulder down to his left hip.
Keith dropped his sword and surged forwards to the lump paladin.
“Lance? Buddy come on I need you to wake up. I need you to look at me, insult me, anything!”
Keith yelled shaking him.
“Allura? Shiro?”
He only got static from his helmet.
Keith felt the panic begin to rise in his chest.
There was so much blood and Lance just wasn’t moving.
“Lance please… I need you.” Keith sniffed as he felt tears prick his eyes.
“Mullet?… you…ok?”
Keith would of thrown his arms around him if he weren’t hurt so badly.
“You jerk! I thought you were dead.”
Lance smiled, but the pain was still obvious on his face. “Can’t leave you… who else… would keep… you…alive?”
“Shut up.” Keith laughed wiping his eyes.
“How bad is it?”
Keith held his breath, he had hoped Lance wouldn’t ask.
“It’s not good.”
“Really cause this feels fantastic.”
Keith rolled his eyes but felt a small spark of hope at the banter.
“I can’t get through to the castle… I don’t know what to do Lance.”
The fear on Keith voice made Lance’s eyes widen.
“H-hey it’s ok… it’s ok. Your annoyingly smart… right… so use.. that brain of yours… and-”
Keith’s head snapped up “the flowers!”
Lance smiled “there you go.”
Keith stood scanning the area, he couldn’t see far thanks to the rain and couldn’t see a single flower that matched Allura’s description.
“Go.” Lance said so quickly Keith almost missed him.
“I said… go… I can’t keep up… with you… find the… flower… come back.”
Keith felt a flash of anger “I’m not going to just leave you here!”
“You don’t have… much of a choice!” Lance yelled but started coughing, blood sprayed from his mouth.
Keith couldn’t do anything while he coughed but soon as he finished wiped the blood from his face along with a strange brown substance.
Keith looked at it for a moment before he noticed the pale patches just visible on Lance’s skin.
He decided now wasn’t the time to ask.
Lance was running out of time.
“Don’t you dare die before I come back.” Keith warned kissing Lance on the forehead before he took off running.
Every second Keith spent looking was another second closer to Lance bleeding out.
His chest was heaving and he could barely breath as he ran, but Keith didn’t slow down for a second.
His foot caught a tree root and sent him tumbling down a hill.
His ankle was throbbing with pain.
If he couldn’t stand how could he save Lance?
Just as suddenly the rain had started it stopped.
Without the thick curtain of rain Keith could see he fell into what looked like a meadow filled with various coloured flowers.
Then Keith saw it.
A patch of small blue flowers that almost seemed to glow.
He crawled towards it and nearly cried with joy.
He had found it.
He grabbed a handful, putting one in his mouth and chewed.
The effects weren’t instant, but the pain was dulled enough for Keith to stand and limp back to Lance.
Getting back took longer then it had before.
His ankle hurt but Keith kept pushing until he spotted blue armour stained with red.
He ran ignoring the protests from his body.
Keith dropped to his knees in a pool of blood that stained the ground beneath Lance.
His skin was a sickly grey colour and his breathing was slow and laboured.
His eyes were open but Keith doubted he actually knew what was going on around him.
Keith got to work, he took his water from his belt and ground up a few of the flowers before adding them in.
As gently as possible, Keith tilted Lance’s head up and slowing brought the flask to his lips.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then Lance began to drink.
By time he had finished the bleeding had slowed down and the pained crease in his forehead had eased slightly.
“Hang on Buddy I’m gonna get you home.”
If Red hadn’t come to meet them, Keith really wasn’t sure how he was going to get Lance back short of carrying him.
Soon as Red burst through the castle hangar doors Keith had come running out of the Lions mouth struggling with Lance in his arms and screaming for help.
Shiro was there in an instant, not even asking what happened he took Lance from Keith and ran towards the infirmary trailing blood behind him.
Hunk and Pidge began bombarding Keith with questions but Keith couldn’t hear them.
All he could do was stare after Lance.
Two weeks Lance was in the pod.
The creature had managed to clip his lung.
According to Allura, if Keith hadn’t of gotten him the flower when he had, Lance would of died.
Keith barley ate or slept.
He never left Lance’s side once.
He was surprised to see that his skin was covered in the pale patches, but it seemed like the others weren’t.
Keith figured they must already know, or just didn’t care.
It was late when the pod finally opened and Lance fell into Keith’s waiting arms.
“Lance! You feeling ok?”
Lance rubbed his eyes tiredly “yeah… I’m good just kinda tired.” He shrugged.
Keith smiled helping walk over to one of the beds.
Lance sat on the edge and patted the space next to him.
Keith didn’t hesitate to join him.
“Thanks… you know for saving me.”
Keith laughed “you did save me first, can’t have you one up me.”
Lance smiled as he rested his head on Keith shoulder.
Keith tenses for a moment before relaxing and wrapping him arm around Lance’s waste.
“Thanks for the kiss too.”
Keith blushed “anytime.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Lance smirked up at him making Keith’s heart skip a beat.
“Lance… about your skin.”
Lance but his lip “yeah? It’s erm just Vitiligo… do you think it’s ugly?”
Keith shook his head “no I think your beautiful? that it’s beautiful… like butterfly wings.”
Lance smiled “yeah o think so too. I think I’ll stop covering it up.”
Keith smiled pulling Lance closer to him “I’d like that.”

Star spangled brushwork

Summary: You need help painting your apartment, and the weather and Bucky Barnes are both hot. Sniping and sexy times ensue.

Characters: Bucky x Reader
Word count: 3,220
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY. Seriously. If you’re not of legal age, go away, this is not for you.

A/N: It’s my first attempt at smut and smut is hard (no pun intended). Any advice and/ or feedback is always more than welcome. 

Originally posted by maddiekittenlover

After years of saving pennies, working multiple jobs, and one too many nights of boxed wine and Ramen noodles, you had finally, finally, saved enough money for a down payment to buy your own apartment. Sure it was small and on the top floor of an elevator-less building, but it was yours, and that’s what mattered.

In a bid to save money like a responsible homeowner, you also decided to paint the place yourself, and with a little cajoling and a little blackmail concerning that time you filmed him singing ‘Beauty and the Beast’ while he made a PB&J, Bucky grudgingly agreed to help as well.

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We Are Young: Chapter 8

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

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“Stop.” Aelin’s hand shot out, landing on Lysandra bobbing knee. “It’s going to be fine. It’s just an ultrasound.”

Lysandra let loose a shaky breath, her knee bouncing again the moment Aelin removed her hand.

“I know,” She said, glancing nervously around the room. “But, this feels more real now, you know? Before, the only proof I had was some stick I peed on. Once a professional confirms it…”

“Everything is going to be fine.” Aelin took Lysandra’s hand, giving it a light squeeze as a smile pulled on her lips. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lysandra could only offer Aelin a small smile in return. She hated to admit it, but she was slowly letting her nerves get the best of her. She liked to think of herself as a pretty strong person, but sitting in this waiting room, she couldn’t help the fear and jitteriness that overcame her.

It didn’t take long for a nurse to walk out and call her name. With Aelin holding her hand, the two followed the nurse down the hall and into a room.

Honestly, Lysandra was so lost in her nervousness at that point, everything became a blur. And before she knew it, she was lying on the examination table, Aelin standing next to her. She tried to calm her racing heart as the doctor squirted the cold jelly on her stomach, moving the ultrasound to get a clear picture of the baby.

“Here we go,” the doctor smiled, using a finger to point out the baby on the screen. There wasn’t really much to see at this point, but what she could see caused Lysandra’s heart to skip a beat.

That was her baby.

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Headcanon: If the SLBP guys accidentally time travelled to the future (part 1)

A.N: A imagine from me XD I admit I am beyond bored in my class 😂😂😂

Tagging @jemchew , and @rainbowatnight (SURPRISE HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER

Will post part 2 with 4 other lords soon!)



• You thought he would freak out

• seeing that he was in a wholly, different, weird, alienic world than his

• But

• “I demand you to show me this fortress of yours now.”

• Not only he is not freaking out; he has a smug look on

• “Excuse me?”

• “Is my orders that difficult to grasp you insolent woman?”

• “No, I meant why in hell should I even show you every corner of my house!” You snapped back

• “What, you dare defy my orders?”

• You groaned

• well you should show him who’s the big shot or that big head of his is going to get bigger

• “Yes, so?”

• Nobunaga widened his eyes.

• Did she, a lowly misbehaved insolent idiotic woman just spoke back at him?

• “Now, Mister Oda Nobunaga, three things you should know is-” You cleared your throat “First, I am the person who brought you in after you crashed on my roof so you have no right in hell to get rude at me. Second, you shall not call me INSOLENT. Third, I am the boss here and I make the rules. You overcross them, out. UNDERSTOOD?”

• Okay maybe he’d underestimated the people in this world.

• they sure had a short fused temper.

• “…understood.”

• Well he would go along for this once

• plainly because he isn’t familiar with this place.

• When he is

• You are going to get it from him.

• “So” you handed a broom, a mop and a bucket to him and he looked at you, puzzled.

• “Why are you giving me this-”

• “Did you expect me to clean the mess you made?” You gestured at the pile of debris from the broken roof.

• He glared at you

• “Woman, do you even know who I a-”

• “Oda Nobunaga, yes. So go clean up.”

• He stared at you

• and you gave him the finger before strutting away to your room in all your glory

• leaving him with a mop

• a broom

• a bucket

• a pile of debris

• and a raging feel to strangle you on sight.

• Forget about the whole get-it-from-him part

• he is going to kill you


• “What is this?”

• “Uh… a toaster?”

• He looked at you quizzically, finger still pointing at the recently identified object known as toaster.

• “What is it used for…?”

• “Uh…” you pondered “…for toasting bread..?”

• The question mime isn’t finished yet, though.

• “…may I ask how to operate it-”

Thought you’d never ask… you smirked to yourself.

• You eagerly grabbed two slices of bread and showed him how to use the toaster

• “See… when you hear a ‘ding’, it means the bread is already uh…. suitable for eating.”

• “Really? But…” He pointed at the pieces of brownish deliciously looking toast. “…they don’t look edible to me…”

• “Huh?” You looked at him mouth gaping and he gave you a apologetic look

• “It has…. quite a unpleasant colour… Mmph-!”

• You stuffed a slice of the ‘unpleasantly coloured’ bread into his mouth before he even get to finish his sentence and he gave you a look of shell shocked hesitation. You cheshire grinned up at him

• “Don’t knock it until you try it~~~”

• You winked at him playfully, and with a sigh

• *chomps*

• he bit into the crunchy brownish roasted grain and

• “!!!”

• Wow

• You thought to yourself

• this is the first time you saw a person, a real one, looking so… sparkly eyed by eating a toasted piece of plain bread

• His eyes could outshone a billion stars and power up every solar panel in Japan with their blinding realization of the taste of

• the legendary toast

• Yes

• That’s gotta be it

• “May I… have another piece?” He shyly (not shyly) raised his empty but crumb-filled hand in eagerness and embarrassment.

• You smiled at him and grabbed a loaf off the dining table

• “Sure!” You squeaked and he smiled back

• Moral value of the story

• no one could ever resist toast

• not even the legendary perfect af Mitsuhide.

• *evil cackle*


• “G-gaah….”

• You deadpanned

• “Yukimura… for God’s sake please stop staring at those girls they’d probably think you are a pervert-”

• “Bu-but… they… woman… dressed… legs…. GAH!!!!!” He shrieked hyper high pitched after blubbering a mess of jumbled words into a full (or maybe half) sentence to you, face redder than chillies

• You sighed

• maybe it was a bad idea bringing him with you

• But you just wanted to buy some clothes for him at the nearest shopping centre - he couldn’t go full on cosplay 24/7, absolutely no

• and

• he did said that…

*30 minutes ago*

• “I REFUSE TO LET A WOMAN WANDER ON THE STREETS ALONE AT NIGHT!!!!! As a man, it is my responsibility to protect you!”

• “But- ”

• “I won’t hear any of this! I’ll just tag along and you do your thing!” Yukimura straightened his back confidently


• …just like that

• but now you are not that certain who is the protector

• Who would know that Yukimura would be so terrified of women in skimpy miniskirts?

• “W-why do they… wear so… thin…”

• You looked at Yukimura who is turning pale-ish with scarlet tints to the ears

• …looks like you gotta get him outta here or the poor boy is going to combust

• “Yukimura, come here” You tugged on his arm forcefully, intending to lead him to a nearby department

• “GAH!!”

• You looked back at him, a huge question mark forming on your head

• “I- I can walk on my.. own…” Yukimura said, face darkened into a more prominent shade of scarlet than you thought possible, prying his arm away from yours and walked awkwardly towards a store.

• “Yukimura,”

• He almost jumped at the mention of his name

• “Y-yes!”

• “The clothing department’s this way”

• “O-oh… ok.”

• You almost laughed but you pinched yourself to hide it

• what a flustered cinnamon he is


• “….little lady…”

• “What is it Saizo” you called out, hands fumbling over some stray pins and rubber bands on your hair

• “Your device is singing”

• Saizo spoke, monotone as always

• “Just ignore it” You said, holding a pin with your mouth due to your already full hands “-oh wait, can you tell me the words on my phone?”

• Saizo glanced at the black device that had just sprinted bright with life and music “Mom.”

• “Ogh mom..” You mumbled, hairpin still between your teeth when it dawned on you

• “WAIT MOM?!!!”

• There was a violent thud, some crashing


• You sprinted towards Saizo, grabbed the phone from his hands and received the call

• “Hello? Mom??” you tucked a hand in your disheveled hair

• Saizo looked at you indifferently, watching your face gradually becoming pale

• “NO….! MOM NO…! Don’t come please I am not ready how many times had I told you I DONT HAVE A BOYFRIEND IT IS TRUE THAN THE FACT YOU ARE MY MOTHER”

• well Saizo had a hunch that things are going to be entertaining in a sense

• “MOM…! NO-” you paused your yelling, and stared in disbelief at your phone

• She had hung up on you

• she is coming

• right now

• and

• You looked at Saizo


• as expected, Saizo merely shrugged

• “Why should I?”

• You groaned

• “Please…. HELP… or if she sees you you and me are going to die”

• He raised a eyebrow, clearly amused “and why is that?”

• You almost pulled out your hair

• “Saizo, I AM SERIOUS. If she sees you… then… you are going to…”

• “What?”

• “become… my… boyfriend… or let’s just say… fiance… because my mom came to keep an eye on me and… she is kinda… anxious in marrying me to any guy…”

• Now it was his turn to look at you

• “No.”


• “I don’t-” Saizo’s speech was interrupted by a roar that suspiciously sounded like a engine from your lawn and you spotted a suspiciously familiar looking car just outside….

• “I DONT CARE ANYMORE YOU ARE GOING WITH ME!” you screamed, grabbed his hand

• pushed him in a closet, and locked it

• The door popped open and out came your mom

• “DARLINGGGG how are you lately!!!”

•You sweatdropped at the sight of her imposing image and Saizo’s attempts to get out of the locked closet

• “Uh… just fine mom!” you piped up when you hear a loud thump from the closet behind you

• “Um sweetie what was that?”

• You gave a good kick to the closet beside you


Having a bookstore across the Joke Shop would involve... // George//

A/N: It’s basically a Dating George Weasley would involve…And agaaain I went a bit overboard because I can’t tell you how much I love him. ( and Draco) Enjoy this piece of fluff that I am throwing in between. 

Fred’s version

Originally posted by black-hippie-moonchild

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Word count: 3,444
Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader
Warnings: some self-deprecation, a little social anxiety as well? Bucky being a flirt, tooth-rotting, cavity-inducing fluff

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a one shot in my head for a while and I figured I’d take a break from Begin Again to write this out before I lost it. Hope you enjoy xx

You stood in front of the full length mirror making final adjustments to your make up, swiping stray eye liner from the corner of your eye. Tony was throwing another party to keep up public appearances and unfortunately, you felt obliged to go. Tony was your friend and if he was going to suffer, you decided that you would too. 

You were dressed in a tailored dark wine red playsuit with black opaque tights and black heels. It was slim fit, and the neckline rested only a few inches below your neck so it was sophisticated enough but not too stuffy. 

You heard the door open as you threw your eye pencil back into its place when -

‘Doll, are you - hello, gorgeous.’

You rolled your eyes playfully, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror, but blushed. He looked impossibly handsome - broad-chested and dressed in an all-black suit, the only colour coming from his gentle cerulean eyes and full pale lips. His hair was brushed back and you knew you would have trouble concentrating on anything else but him.

‘Turn around, lemme get a look at you.’ His words were meant to sound sultry but there was a near-goofy smile on his face that essentially just described Bucky himself.

You obliged, quirking an eyebrow. ‘I dunno, Barnes, you seemed to be enjoying the other view.’

Bucky flicked you on the forehead playfully. ‘Get your head out of the gutter,’ he smirked, making you giggle, before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you gently. In your heels, you were still a couple inches shorter than him. 

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Smoulder- Epilogue

Summary: Remember when this was a oneshot and it turned into a 160k fic which took almost a year to write? Lol *sobs because it’s over*

Read on Ao3/ FF.Net

Smoulder- Epilogue

“If you don’t stop twitching your leg, I’m going to break it.”

Adrien paused at Nathanael’s warning. A brief pause. A second’s pause.

He tried to contain himself. He really did.

A moment later, and completely subconsciously, he began to fiddle with his seat tray.

Nathanael groaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” Adrien apologised hurriedly, fully aware of just how irritating he was being. “I’m just nervous.”

Nathanael grinned at that.

“Really? Nervous?” he replied, tone as dry at the recycled plane air surrounding them. Quietly, he folded his own tray open, so that he had somewhere to sketch. “I had no idea banana-boy.”

“Don’t be mean tomato-head,” Adrien whined, flopping face-first onto the tiny plane window. “I’m trying my best to not be a pain.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

Eschewing his own internal dilemmas, Adrien shot up, a sunlit beam brightening his face.

“You quoted it!” he cried, throwing his arms around a reluctant Nathanael. “I knew you liked Star Wars! I knew it!”

“I never said I didn’t,” Nathanael responded coyly, tapping his pencil to Adrien’s nose before bringing it to his mini-sketchbook again. Overcome by curiosity, and a need for distraction, Adrien took a quick peak at what he was drawing. A fluffy tail. Some kind of wolf maybe? Or a fox? Maybe a cat? Adrien wasn’t sure from the angle he was staring. “I just didn’t have any interest in seeing it before being made to by my roommate. My roommate who is, inconceivably, nerdier than I am.”

“Did Louis know? I bet he would’ve had something to say. Or shriek. Louis shrieks a lot,” Adrien mused, scratching the back of his head as he was still restless. “Well if he doesn’t your secret’s safe with me. What happens in London stays in London.”

“True- and you know it’s never come up. The Star Wars thing,” Nathanael replied with a small smile, his eyes distant. It was a look Adrien had come to know well over the past year. He’d dubbed it Nathanael’s ‘dream face’.

Having realised the horrendous London rent prices were worse than that of Paris (how was that possible?) Adrien had quickly asked Nathanael move in with him and his friend had jumped at the chance. Adrien couldn’t blame him, he’d seen Nathanael’s old place. The mould on the wall had looked like a demented clown and it still gave him nightmares.

They’d been roommates the entire year.

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fic snippet

hi! this is a snippet from a fic i’m currently working on, which will hopefully be done soon! lauren @daggersau read some and really kindly drew me this lovely piece of art to go with this part of the fic, so i really wanted to share it! i hope u enjoy x

Harry shifts closer and closer to Louis on the sofa as another film plays on (they’ve been at this for a while now, light from outside steadily creeping away, film afternoon having turned into a film evening), and Louis is slowly losing his ability to regulate his breathing properly. He can feel the warmth from Harry’s body, can feel Harry’s thigh touching his, and even though it’s a small couch, there’s still plenty of space, so Harry doesn’t strictly need to be this close. Louis doesn’t dare say anything, though. Doesn’t want to.

Harry does get up, though, and Louis misses his presence immediately. Jesus. He spends an hour with Harry in close proximity to him and now he can hardly bear being apart for a mere minute? How pathetic. 

Louis’ not suffering for long; Harry’s just come back, along with even more drinks for them all to have. He also brought a blanket, the same one that he’s now draping over them both, all soft and fuzzy and pink. Louis realises, as Harry’s arranging the blanket, that it almost matches Harry’s nail colour; a glossy, pale rose that he hadn’t noticed before. And of course. Of course this hardened boy who wears tough leather and harsh black eyeliner, and does too many drugs to count, also owns a fluffy pink blanket. How very Harry.

“Love the colour, H,” Louis whispers once Harry is settled, because fuck it, if Harry’s allowed a nickname, Louis is too.

“It’s my favourite,” Harry smiles shyly, as if there’s anything to be shy about. Louis focuses his eyes on Harry, and in the low light, the colour of his glowing cheeks almost seem to match the blanket. Louis is helplessly endeared by this boy. Of course his favourite colour is pink, too.

“Hey, lovebirds, stop your whispering,” Louis feels his cheeks heat up at the comment, and he also feels called out. Is he being that obvious? He’s going to kill Niall, honestly, “There’s a time and place for that. You’re the ones who wanted to watch this film in the first place,” Louis head finally whips over to the source of the sound, to see Niall grinning, who’s not actually irritated in the slightest.

“Shut up, Niall,” he hears Harry mutter from next to him, after a beat, voice slightly breathless, and he sounds a bit distracted, attention probably back on the film already. Maybe it’s not such a big deal then; it’s probably just a joke to Harry, Niall’s comment. Louis wishes it could be just a joke to him, would make things, controlling his feelings, mainly, a whole lot easier to deal with. Louis lets out a deep breath. He’s going to be having words with Niall later. “It’s those two you should be worried about, anyway,” Harry adds, gesturing to Zayn and Liam sitting next to Niall.

Niall looks over - they all do - to where Zayn and Liam are sitting together. They’re all curled up to each other, oblivious to the conversation around them even more oblivious to the attention on them. They’re in their own little bubble, reciting the lines from the film to each other. It’s sweet.

Louis remembers the conversation he’d had with them in the pub, weeks ago now. Remembers what they’d said about feeling secure in each other, how they just knew.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” a whispered voice travels to Louis’ ear, barely loud enough. He knows who’s said it though.

Without looking away from the couple, he responds, “Yeah. They’re lucky.”

“They’ve always been my gauge, you know? Ever since they first got together. They fell in love straight away, I think, even when we were kids you could tell,” Harry continues, voice low so as not to earn another comment from Niall. Also, perhaps to keep their conversation private, too. Louis stomach flutters at the simple prospect of him and Harry having secrets together, exclusive discussions that only they hear. Fuck. Louis’ already in so deep if this is what he gets excited about.

“Your gauge?” Louis whispers back, confused at what he means.

“Like, my measurement. For relationships, I mean, people I meet. I’ve always been a bit nervous that I’d never actually find anyone, because my standards are so high, but it’s important to me,” he continues, a bit sheepishly. “I say to myself, if they don’t seem like they’re gonna make you feel like Zayn and Liam make each other feel, that almost tangible feeling of just… pure love, then what’s the bloody point?” Harry responds, light humour in his tone, but Louis can tell, is able to tell now, when Harry’s being genuine or not. And he is, with this. He obviously admires his friends’ relationship a lot.

“Oh. I see,” Louis says softly, and then decides he’s just going to risk saying the next thing he says before wimping out, “So… has anyone lived up to that yet? For you?” Louis doesn’t know why this question makes him so nervous, why he has to work on regulating his breathing yet again in preparation for the answer. (He knows. Of course he knows).

“Hm.” Louis can feel Harry’s gaze latched to him now, and he moves his eyes from Zayn and Liam back to Harry. It’s always back to Harry, it seems. “Not until–” Harry stops then, a puzzling look on his face that Louis can’t quite decipher. Then, unmistakably, in their close proximity, Harry’s emerald gaze flickers from Louis’ eyes, to his lips, and then back again. Louis is almost fully sure that he stops breathing for a second there. “I’m not sure, now, actually.”

Louis has to avert his gaze, has to vacate the intense moment immediately. Harry’s heavy stare is almost too much, never mind the weight behind the words. Louis can’t, doesn’t want to think about what Harry could possibly mean, doesn’t want to take it the wrong way, because Louis always takes it the wrong way. Louis’s past, whether with his family or relationships, has been disappointing, to say the least, and he’s been let down too many times to count. It’s ironic, too, because now Louis barely ever lets himself feel anything, will never admit to himself properly how feels, out of fear of disappointment, but he can’t really help it when it comes to Harry. He doesn’t want to be disappointed, though, it’s happened too often before. Harry’s his friend, and that’s enough. It has to be enough.

edit: link to completed fic x


Originally posted by stilinski-ortiz

Originally posted by patheticyoung

Request: Imagine having a panic attack in public and Juice comforts you.

Warnings: Could be triggering if you suffer from anxiety or panic attacks. You may not wanna read this if you are prone to either. Be safe, babies 💕

NOTE: Im aware that everybody experiences panic/anxiety attacks differently, so I tried to kinda summarise it.


Canned goods, olive oils, jars of pickles.
You walked down the aisle desperately trying to slow down your breathing. Trying to hold off only ever made them worse, but you hated having a panic attack in public. The grocery store was a sensory overload.
The squeaking off the loose wheel on the shopping cart.
The bright lights shining down.
The beeping off the till.
The coloured packaging all jumping out at you.
The laughter of children in the next aisle.
The soothing music playing throughout the store that was anything but soothing.
The footsteps on the polished tiles.
The old man whistling as he paced the aisles.
The buzzing of the overhanging lights.
The call over the loudspeaker for Karen to return to the service desk.
It was all too much. The moment you had walked in the entrance you had felt nauseas and you had gulped, determined to get your groceries and get out.
You dug your fingernails into your palms as you walked up the aisle, hoping desperately that this feeling would pass.
Count to ten.
But the pounding in your chest quickened and your lungs felt like they were tightening, strangling you, starving you of air.
You had to get out.
You dropped the basket you were carrying with the few items you had managed to pick off the shelves and you headed for the door.
A soccer mom was wrangling her four kids near the entrance and they ran out in front of you, only sending you into more of a panic.
Your breathing quickened and you broke into a sweat, desperate to be outside in the fresh air and desperate for the room to stop spinning.
Finally you made your way outside and you ran to the alley between the surrounding buildings and knelt on the ground.

The surroundings were spinning and you steadied yourself, your hands on the concrete path as your body trembled.

Just breathe.


Juice walked out of Clear Passages and tucked his hands into his pockets.
He smiled to the elderly couple walking towards him. They didn’t reciprocate when they saw the leather kutte on his shoulders and Juice ignored it. He was used to it by now.
He headed towards his bike, glancing up and down the street while he walked.
Then he saw her.
Across the road, in the alleyway between the grocery store and the florist a girl was kneeling on the ground, her hands clutching at her chest.
Juice frowned and jogged across the street, unaware of the oncoming traffic.
The driver slammed on their brakes and honked the horn. He raised his hand in apology but kept moving, desperate to help the girl.
“Hey are you okay?” He asked as he approached.
She didn’t look up.
Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were shaking, a thin layer of sweat appearing on her pale forehead.
Juice recognised the signs and he knelt in front of her.
“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. Open your eyes.”
She obeyed. Her wide, panicked eyes found his and he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“You gotta breath. Inhale.”
She took a deep breath and he counted to three.
“Exhale. Good.”
He counted to three again before telling her to inhale.
Ever so slowly her breathing began to calm and Juice flashed a smile for the small victory.
“Tell me five things you can see.”
“What?” She asked, her breathing starting to quicken again.
“Do it. Five things. Trust me.”
“Um. You.” She glanced along the alleyway, out into the street. “A car.”
“What colour is it?”
“Good, what else?” Juice pushed the loose hair out of her face and pointed out into the street.
“The sky. A post box.” She took a deep breath. “Bench.”
“Good girl. What can you hear?”
“Anything else?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know I cant-“
“Its okay, take a deep breath.”
She did as she was told and Juice got her to name what she could smell.
When she was done he noticed that the colour was returning to her face.
It was a good sign.
“Hows your heart beating?”
“Little fast.” She stammered. “But better.”
“Whats your name?”
“My names Juice. Look back at that road. How many cars can you see.”
She focused, her eyes narrowing.
He sat with her for a while, asking her questions and with every answer her breathing slowed and her heart rate lowered.
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
Juice stood and offered her his hand.
She accepted and he helped her up.
“Im sorry, I just wanted to get my groceries but it just became too much and.. Im sorry.“
“You don’t need to apologise.” Juice smiled, sending a blush to her cheeks. “Im just glad I was here.”
“Me too.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Did you have a grocery list?”
She nodded and pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket.
“Wait here.”

He grabbed the list from your fingers and turned, leaving you alone in the alley.
You leant against the cool brick wall, enjoying the way it felt on your back and you looked to the sky, taking a deep breath.
You weren’t blind. You had seen the patch on his shoulders but no one had ever talked you down from one of your panic attacks before, let alone a biker you didn’t even know.
After a few more minutes Juice rounded the corner, his arms full of groceries.
“You drive here?”
“No, I walked. I don’t live far.”
“Then lets go.” He smiled widely to you.
“You don’t have to,Juice, really you’ve done enough. I didn’t even give you money for those and-“
“Hey, I want to. Safety in numbers, right?”
You smiled, a blush on your cheeks and nodded. “Right.
You took a bag of groceries from his arms and led the way.
Juice talked to you the whole way home and the you reached your house he helped you carry your groceries inside.
“I should get back.” He said when he placed the last bag on the counter.
You nodded. “Thank you for everything, Juice. Really, thank you.”
He smiled and scanned the kitchen.
He headed to the counter and grabbed a pen and pulled your grocery list from his pocket, and began scribbling down his phone number.
When he was done he handed the paper to you. “Anytime you need anything. Anything at all, you call me.”
You smiled widely. No words could thank him enough for what he had done but you made a mental reminder to do some baking and drop it off to him.
Together you walked to the front door and after saying goodbye you watched him walking away from your house.
You chewed the side of your lip as you watched him, hoping that you would get to see a lot more of Juice.


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Imma just add this just incase anyone was triggered, I worry about my loves. 

Originally posted by acheemient

Chain of Command: Part 6

Anonymous said: More chain of command pls? You are a 🦄 and 🍭😍

Anonymous said: I don’t want to be greedy but would love another chapter of Chain of Command or The Getaway! You rock!!

Snuggling under the homemade quilt Ellen had gifted to her on her eighteenth birthday, Claire twitched her toes nervously. She’d been allowed temporary rooms upstairs with the Fraser’s whilst they decided what their next course of action should be.

Claire, of course, was mortified at the precession. She’d been relieved to have all of them know, especially Jamie, but now came the important part. What were they to tell everyone?

‘We could marry?’ Jamie had suggested, a glint of hope in his bright blue eyes. But Claire was still reeling from having Brian, Ellen and Mama Crook discovering her secret in mere hours and it’d all been too much for her to take in.

Now, cosy and alone, Claire had begun to process the offer.

Of course it was the done thing. She was to have his child, why wouldn’t he want to propose marriage and ensure their union was ordained by God and the eyes of the law?

‘You’re overthinking it, Claire,’ she castigated, rubbing her tummy as the bairn twirled beneath her skin. Jamie wasn’t the sort to make empty promises. If he’d suggested it, even just in passing, he meant it.

He was still treating her with caution, that she could tell. However, recalling the moment he’d proposed she’d seen the want in his eyes. It was slight and very well contained, but it was there - nonetheless. How she’d gone all this time without truly understanding the love he felt for her, the love he had never once held back from her, she would never know. Claire did know, though, that fear had held her hostage and had caused her to selfishly protect herself from accepting his affections as fully as she would have liked. Now, with the unveiling of her pregnancy and the subsequent approval from Ellen and Brian, Claire could finally break down the walls she’d built around her heart.

The whole house remained silent as Claire drifted in and out of sleep. Part of her wanted to crawl out from beneath the wee fort she’d created for herself and continue as normal but she knew that the news would spread through the big house quickly and until she’d further consulted with Jamie, she didn’t want to be the centre of attention.

Instead she elected to conceal herself upstairs. Some of the other maids that Mrs Crook employed below were terrible gossips and Claire was worried about the backlash she might face from them now.

The fire burned onwards, its large flames flickering in the fireplace. Claire was entranced. Between the dancing sparks and the baby moving within her she was captivated. The peace was just what she needed after a stressful few months.

Below, Jamie and Brian sat in the parlour, an intense silence surrounding them.

“I ken ye love the lassie, Jamie,” Brian began, breaking the tense atmosphere with his words. He wanted to make sure Jamie knew what he was doing without being disapproving on the situation. Jamie knew the story of him and Ellen and castigating his son would only make him feel ashamed of his actions. “But why did ye no’ make a decent woman of her first?”

Jamie paled at his father’s assessment of the situation. “I really want to, Da. I promise ye…”

“Jamie lad,” Brian interjected, placing his hand over Jamie’s as he drummed his nervous fingers against the smooth tabletop, “if there is one thing of which I’m certain, it’s that ye did everything in your power to care for Claire. Now, the truly important question is; what do ye both plan to do next?”

“I’m going to marry her, as soon as possible.” Jamie said, his voice clear as he nodded and swallowed. His eyes were wide and bright, alight with calm certainty as Brian reached into the top drawer of the desk.

“Then ye need a ring. I think I have the perfect thing for ye to offer her.”

Placing her hands on her back, Claire thrust her shoulders out and cracked her spine. She ached from spending too much time in bed, and the throb in her muscles had forced her up. Pacing the length of the floor, she walked up and down in front of the fire, keeping herself warm as she hummed to the babe. Her ribs were still a little sore from the bandaging but it felt good to know that she didn’t have hide anymore.

“You would have been too big soon,” she cooed to her belly as she flopped into the rocking chair that lay near to the window.

It was dark now. The stars brightly shone in the night sky, the last vestige of light outside. Tucking her feet under her bottom, Claire stared out of the window into the speckled grey night. She could see the trees swaying in the breeze, their steely coloured leaves rustling with each gust.

She was so relaxed that she failed to notice the door as it slowly opened. Jamie smiled widely as he watched her rocking, her eyes half closed as she ran both of her hands over her abdomen. She looked so beautiful in that moment that he wished there were a way for him to capture the moment forever.

“You can come in you know,” she whispered when she noticed him hovering in the doorway, “you don’t have to hide, I promise.”

Jamie could hear the apology in her tone, and although she didn’t actually say ‘I’m sorry’, he could tell that’s what she meant. She’d been hiding herself for so long, but Ellen and Brian had gone to such lengths to ensure that she felt accepted and protected that she’d finally allowed herself to feel positive about the future. A future that would contain Jamie *and* her-their- baby.

“I meant it, ye know,” Jamie said, entering and closing the door behind him to give them some privacy, “what I proposed earlier.”

“I know,” Claire replied, her heart beating double time at the memory. “But how…when?”

“Soon, tomorrow…now, if ye wished.”


“Aye, Claire, before.”

“But everyone would already know that I’m-”

“I ken that well, Claire,” Jamie said, breaking their constant stream of conversation with a knowing look, “but it would mean that the bairn would be legitimate. He -or she- would bear my name. Our name. Aside from that, I dinna care what anyone else has to say on the matter. I love you, Claire. That’s all that matters, that and the safety of the child.”

Claire nodded, tears flooding her eyes as she made to stand. Jamie, sensing her need for comfort, rushed to her side and knelt at her feet, stopping her from moving too far as he laid his head in her lap and sighed.

“Ask me then, Jamie. Ask me properly…” Claire whispered, her fingers running through Jamie’s hair even as he raised his head to look up at her.

Fumbling in his pockets he searched for the box his father had presented to him. Pulling out the velvet casing, he pried open the lid and held up the silver-laced ring as he shifted onto one knee.

“Will ye,” he began, his chest vibrating with nerves as he breathed in deeply through his nose. “Claire, marry me?”

Bending forward as far as she could, Claire balanced herself so that she could just about place her forehead against Jamie’s, her hands wrapping around his as he held the precious ring box tightly.

“Yes, Jamie. Yes I will.”

Too bad, too sweet (m)

Characters:  Lust!Hoseok & demon hunter!OC

Setting: supernatural au, demon au

Genre: 50% background story 50% filth

Warnings:  Explicit language, (dark) humour, violence, blood and sexual content including brief mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism, dom/sub undertones, breathplay, light bondage without safe words and lots of talk about sex. (Kind of dubcon at some parts but not really.)

Summary:  Hoseok, the Sin of Lust has loved all era he has lived in but the 21st century might be his favourite. He owns a popular place in Las Vegas: an ordinary bar on the surface but basically a sex club underground. However, rumour has it that a reckless demon hunter is coming after him. He couldn’t care less until Black Widow steps into his bar but then things get heated quickly. Hoseok is determined to break her resistance and teach her a lesson: there only one rule of lust: no love. Everything else is fair.

Words: 12502


Part of the 7 Sins collab for BTS’ anniversary. Check out the other stories as well!

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

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Counting Stars

Happy, happy birthday, @raindrop-rouge. May your day be filled with laughter, smiles, cake, tea, bubbles, and everything good. This is for you. <3

“You are beautiful,” Eren says one night, his soft-spoken words cutting sharply through the quiet darkness surrounding them and making Levi blink open his eyes to meet a pair of shining eyes that regard him intently.

A contradictory frowns forms on his brow, disagreeing and puzzled. Levi isn’t vain, but he knows his body is too small for a grown man, forged by a life on the streets that only taught him how to survive, leaving behind nothing but broad muscles on too feminine limbs, and a too translucent skin paled by an ongoing lack of sunlight and proper nutrition. His movements are sharp and directed, efficient and precise. Not round and smooth like Eren’s.

His face isn’t pretty either, with the droopy eyes that are too small and colourless, half-lidded, shadowed, and bruised by too many restless nights and cruel days, by sorrows and grief and loss, with his pitch black hair that stands too much in contrast to his bloodless skin. His cheekbones are too prominent, his lips thin and chapped. His beard, if he could grow a decent one, would be patchy and just as odd-looking as he is himself. Something that should have been more than it is.

His hands are petite and calloused, his feet cicatrised after years and years of being tied to the straps. His back is marked by them as well, his neck too thin and aching from the weight on his shoulders.

Words don’t come easy to him, and when they do they are harsh and curt and vulgar, and too often not what he really wants to say. His personality is jagged and his spirit jaded, his core blackened by blood and broken beyond repair.

A life in the darkness has made his body strong at least, battered and branded, but powerful and chiseled as well. It’s making him capable of dealing with whatever is thrown their way, able to do his best to protect. He’s a weapon, edged and deathly and violent.

But beautiful…no.

And yet he can see it in Eren’s eyes that meant every word. Their green and blue is paled by the silvery light of the moon and the lingering traces of sleep, but their intensity is just the same as always, conveying nothing but serious honesty and openness.

Levi swallows and reaches out with a rustle of the bed sheets to brush over a prominent, brown eyebrow, a stubbled cheek, a soft bottom lip that wraps around his fingertips to catch them in a kiss.

Eren, Levi knows, isn’t really what others would call a raving beauty either. His hair is mouse brown and mussy all the time—a wild beast like its owner, always vivid and fighting against an invisible force, stubbornly defying anyone’s will in untidy strands that beg to be touched and caressed and ruffled—or combed—, but also daring to try. His skin is tanned by spending his whole life under the merciless sun, the fading stripes around his neck and wrists dividing the parts where the heat kisses him every day from the part that’s always hidden under his clothing.

Despite all of Eren’s hardship there is no single scar on his body, making it into something that shouldn’t really exist, something dangerous and surreal, something barbarous and threatening, something contradictory.

Then there are his eyes. Not quite as big as they once used to be, but still as expressive. Two shiny, burning flames of neither green nor blue and somehow both, that haven’t lost their feral fire over the years and oddly stand out in that still boyish face that should be much more tarnished than it is. They are just as unnatural as the rest of him.

He is perilous and an oxymoron simply by existing, by still living and breathing. He’s abnormal.

And yet, to Levi, this man is beautiful. Gorgeous even. And then some.

Eren’s pulse is speeding up under Levi’s touch, making him think silly things and dream against all odds. Eren’s body is pristine and warm, teaching Levi that time heals all wounds—at least the ones one can see—and that there is hope. The fury that has once dominated Eren’s features has abated, cooled down into a dangerous, unstable simmer that will never leave completely, and yet every time he holds Levi Eren’s hands are gentle and kind, even when the hunger between them boils over into a rough, all-consuming need.

They trace Levi’s ugly scars as if they were saying hello to a dear, old friend and when they come to rest against the nape of Levi’s neck the fingers begin to play with the stubbles of his undercut in caressing circles like it is everything they ever wanted to do.

When Eren looks at him his eyes are like a pair of gems that seem to have a direct link to Levi’s soul, unyielding, endearing, and enticing, gazing at Levi and laying him bare as if he was the answer to all of Eren’s hopes and dreams, the remedy for all his sorrows and tears, a guiding light through the darkest of times. Levi looks back and Eren holds him there, steady and unwavering, until Levi can feel the blush rising on his chest, his arms, his neck, his cheeks, and ears until the cool night begins to sting on his skin.

“Bastard,” he whispers, and Eren chuckles. Pokes Levi’s nose. Snuggles closer. Smiles. Fills the world with colours and ease.

His laugh is like the sun glistening on the ocean’s surface on that early spring day, fickle and warming, dancing and cheering, lively and vast, lifting and grounding at the same time, like listening to the water caressing the shore in affectionate waves and to the breeze whispering through the marram grass nearby whilst feeling the sand under his naked feet. It’s like seeing the open planes and birds for the first time, stunningly green and too much, yet never enough all at once.

Levi has seen a lot of strange things in his life, but the one laying right next to him in their bed must be the strangest of them all. A miracle.

And he understands.

Beauty isn’t really something you see or that you can measure like tea leaves for the perfect cup.

It’s something that can only be experienced in its entity, something so simple as blinking against the overpowering daylight after nothing but darkness and something so complicated as trying to count the stars up in the sky after being enclosed by clay and dirt for a whole lifetime.

He still doesn’t know what it is that makes Eren look at him like he does. But when Eren pulls him into his arms to hold him against his beating heart and kiss the top of his head, their legs intertwining and their bodies sharing that wonderful heat close-close-closer, he knows it’s Eren’s right to see more than the eyes let on, just as it is his own, and he won’t question it, just as Eren doesn’t in return.

Eren isn’t one to make false promises. Everything he is and does screams blatant honesty and commitment, and yet Levi expects with every passing day that Eren will change his mind eventually.

But this is Eren and the world will cease to exists when he stops loving like he does, with everything he’s got. As long as he’s let he’ll press his velvety smile against Levi’s frown, and pass a silent promise with sweet brushing of lips, meeting of tongues, and connection of something Levi hasn’t found a name for yet.

He seizes it nonetheless and wraps it around his heart, makes it his armour and his shield.

Even though he doesn’t know how long it will last he at least has this and the knowledge that once someone chose him and thought him perfect in all his flaws.

He looks into these too sparkling eyes and smiles, letting himself fall as they begin to count the stars.

AO3 Link.

Bugs Bunny (Spock x Reader)

Summary: request from @blueoftheenterprise : I recently found your blog and let me tell you I really love your fics! Are you taking requests for Spock? If you do I really could use some motivation fics at the moment so could you do a bullied!reader x Spock in which the reader loves Spock but does nothing because she doesn’t think she deserves him? If you need more detail you can DM me 😘 Thank you!

Warnings: Bullying, Language

Pairing: Spock x Reader

a/n: OK so this is my first non-Jim request. Firstly thanks for the opportunity to do something different i hope you like it! Secondly I hope I’ve done Spock enough justice for this to be enjoyable. We jump straight in so just in case it’s a sensitive issue for some I’ve put everything under the cut.

Words: 1,581

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jared cameron | imprinting [2]

jared cameron. 1652 words.

previous part.

Kim had slowly gotten the message that you didn’t want to talk about Jared anymore, so she stopped mentioning him around you. She realized that your annoyance with him was more concentrated than usual. What you didn’t tell her was why. 

You’d tolerated Jared just fine. Even though he and his friends were usually obnoxious and cocky, you’d endured him because for some reason, his face made Kim happy. 

Until the diner incident. 

Damn, why did that boy get to you? You hadn’t ever cared about him — or wanted to — but ever since he’d stormed out of that restaurant, his expression of pain and hurt stayed solidified in your memory like a bad dream you couldn’t shake off. Though, that couldn’t have been because of you. He surely couldn’t have heard how badly you’d insulted him. No one could have heard. You’d been quiet about it. 

So him being angry and frustrated every time you saw him outside of school had nothing to do with you. Maybe something had happened with Paul and Embry. Maybe they’d gotten into a fight. Maybe they’d made fun of him one too many times — like you had. 

Friday after school, you hurried to your car, eager to turn on the heating and warm yourself up. Kim had coaxed you into coming down to the res and sleeping over at her house, and though you weren’t a big fan of the sickly girly things she had planned, you desperately wanted to something to pull your thoughts away from Jared. 

You’d promised to drive over to her place as soon as you grabbed a few things from home, which you assured her wouldn’t take too long. You quickly rushed up the front steps of your house and sprinted up to your bedroom, tossing your backpack in a corner and shoving essentials in an overnight bag.
As you walked out of your house, you stopped short in front of your car.
Jared Cameron was leaning against the driver’s side. 

His arms were folded over his bare chest, eyes narrowed in the same frustration you’d witnessed at the diner. You almost wanted to turn back around and lock yourself in your house, but decided against it. If he’d managed to find out where you lived — although that wasn’t really very weird in a small town like Forks — then what he had to say must have held some degree of importance. 

“What do you want?” you demanded. “I don’t have all day.” 

Jared scoffed. “Why are you always pissed at me?” he asked. “Jeez, you’re always glaring and talking shit behind my back to Kim. Ease up, will you?”

It took you a little by surprise that he was so upfront about it. He wasn’t wrong, really, but he certainly hadn’t wasted time getting to the point.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing it for Kim’s sake,” you said.

“‘Cause she likes me?” Jared shook his head, almost remorsefully. “I thought by ignoring her, I was letting her down easy.”

You really weren’t all that surprised. He treated Kim like she was invisible. You just hadn’t expected him to be so aware. Most guys generally weren’t when it came to things like romance.

“You should have told her,” you said. “She thinks the two of you will get married one day.”

“You think she’ll appreciate you telling me that?” Jared laughed. “Some friend you are.”

You gritted your teeth. “If you’ve come here to berate me, you can leave.”

Jared smiled. Shit, he really does have nice lips, you thought. A nice everything.

“I need to show you something,” he said. “Can you drive?”

“What the hell are you playing at?” you fumed, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Absolutely nothing. I just need to show you something,” he repeated.

Though you wanted to refuse and tell him to get lost and never set foot on your property again, you were curious to find out more about the mystery that was Jared Cameron. So, you jerked your chin towards your car. 

“Get in.”

“You sure you’re not going to murder me?” you teased.

Jared scoffed from in front of you, and though you couldn’t see his expression, you were sure he’d rolled his eyes. “Really,” he said, “is that how low you think of me?”

“Well, you’re in a gang,” you defended. “People talk. Everyone thinks you guys are in some sort of cult. How do I know you’re not getting ready to sacrifice me to some hippie god?”

His shoulders tensed, but his tone was forcedly light. “Don’t worry, I’d never do anything to hurt you.” It was such an odd statement, especially since you didn’t really know Jared Cameron all too well. But somehow, there was a heavy note behind his promise, as if he’d meant it from the bottom of his heart.

The two of you had been walking in the woods outside of La Push for a while and your legs were getting tired. You were supposed to have been at Kim’s house half-an-hour ago but Jared’s company was somewhat addicting. Though you knew it probably wasn’t smart to entrust yourself to him, especially considering the fact that you’d always adamantly claimed he was bad news, you couldn’t help it. There was something about him you couldn’t shake off.

You reached an opening in the trees, which gave way to a small clearing. Tall grass swayed softly in the breeze with a grace that made the movement look like a foreign dance. A crisp winter air scraped through your lungs sharply, but the pain felt oddly comforting to you.

“It’s beautiful here,” you marvelled. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
Jared glanced at you and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a crooked smile. “You think I brought you out here to show you some grass?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Very funny. Get on with it.”

His demeanour changed in an instant, face hardening gravely. It reminded you of the diner incident when you’d insulted him — though you still thought it was impossible for him to have heard you.

“(Y/N), please don’t freak out, okay? The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.”

You crossed your arms. “Why does it matter if I’m afraid of you?”

“Because believe it or not, what you think of me is important.” He grimaced. 

“But then again, I already know what you think of me. What was I — the offspring of a toilet and a garbage can, with the personality of both?”

You changed colour. The nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that he’d heard you at the diner had been right all along. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean it.” And looking at him, you really hadn’t. He wasn’t as bad as everyone else had made him out to be.

“Yeah, sure.” Jared sighed and then unbuttoned his shorts.

“Woah!” you exclaimed, shielding your eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Showing you what I am.”

You cringed. “What you are? Jared, if you brought me out here to see you naked, what you are is a pervert.”

“You’re such a child,” he groaned. “Turn around if you’re so bothered.”

Reluctantly, you turned around and lowered your hands. Your face was burning at the thought of Jared without any clothes on. Though you were utterly confused as to why there was a need for him to take his clothes off in the first place, you couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t curious about what he’d look like naked. Imagining it made you warm all over, partly with excitement and partly with shame.

And then something wet nuzzled your palm. You wheeled back — and your heart almost stopped in shock.

Where Jared had once stood was a massive wolf, and massive was an understatement. On all fours, it was taller than you, with short and thick chestnut hair and black around its eyes. Your breath lodged itself in your throat, burying every scream with it. You paled and felt the earth beneath your feet sway, falling to your knees painfully.

Slowly, the wolf poked its nuzzle into your hand again and then lowered its gaze submissively. There was nothing threatening about it, despite its size. The fear you had initially felt was replaced by a numbing calmness.

“Jared?” you whispered.

The wolf nodded.

“So,” you began, “you’re not in a gang. You’re in a pack. And Sam Uley’s the Alpha?”

Jared nodded, eyes fixated on the road ahead.

“And you’re the Beta.”

Another nod.

“Why did you tell me out of all people? If it’s such a guarded secret, why let me in on it?”

He sighed, keeping one hand on the steering wheel of your car while rubbing his forehead with the other. “I wasn’t supposed to let anyone else know,” he started. “Sam’s orders have to be obeyed whether we want them to or not. But he said the only exception was if we imprinted.”

“What does that mean?”

Jared glanced at you out of the corners of his eyes. “Imprinting is when you find your soulmate. The person you’re supposed to be with. The one that was made just for you.”

You stared at him — at his unrecognizable expression — and breathed in shakily. “And I’m your imprint.”

He nodded again.

“Well, that makes me feel like a total idiot,” you moaned. “And Kim’s going to hate me so much.”

“(Y/N), even if I hadn’t imprinted on you, the chances of me getting with Kim would have still been slim to none.” Jared grinned. “You were more my type anyway.”

“That’s a shitty way to ask me out.”

“Oh, so now you want me to ask you out?” Jared teased. “You’re right, though. If we’re soulmates, we might as well get started on the whole mating thing — ow, jeez, don’t hit!

Fic: Walking in the deep blue night

Part three of my Heartlines AU.

Part 1 Whiskey on a Pink Dress

Part 2 - Breathing in the Half Light


Originally posted by undertheinfinite

He arrived outside Taps for the third time and checked his watch. 6.45. He’d been round the block three times and it was still far too early. Should he go in and wait? Or should he wait outside? Or should he walk around a while longer to avoid looking too over eager?

“Jesus, Jamie. Getting a bloody grip on yerself man. She’s only a woman”

But what a woman. He hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his head. He’d spent the whole day languishing around his apartment like a lovesick teenager, thinking about her. The soft curl of her hair on her shoulder. The way she looked at him when she’d run her finger down his cheek. He’d also fielded several angry calls and text messages from his friends wondering where he’d run off to.

“Ye’re no Cinderella, ye know’ grumbled Rupert “Ya didna need to be running off before the clock struck midnight.”

“Ah, but my work there was done, Rupe. I’d already been swept off my feet” He recounted his meeting with Claire and his plans to see her that evening.

“Ye were cramping our style there anyway.” laughed back Rupert.

“Aye, I can see how 4 married men in their thirties and forties would have been the toast of the club” Despite his big talk, Rupert had been happily married to his childhood sweetheart for 15 years and was as blissfully happy now as he had been the day he married Gina.

Rupert laughed again. “Aye, well. Gina asks are ya coming to dinner on Wednesday, she’ll likely grill you about the lassie but the kids have been asking for their Uncle Jamie.”

“I’ll be there, wouldn’t want to disappoint the bairns. Or Gina.” he added wryly.

He’d then spent an inordinate amount of time picking out clothes and trying to decide if the fact he had his knickers in a knot about going out for a drink with a woman he had spoken to for probably no more than 7 minutes meant he had severe emotional problems. Why was he so uptight? Whilst he’d not exactly been Glasgow’s version of Casanova, he had been on dates in the last few years. There had been the nice dentist that he met in the supermarket and gotten to talking to over a discussion on the merits of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc versus Napier. They’d had dinner a few times. He’d even kissed her, but he felt no desire to pursue her and when she text him to let her know she’d been asked out by someone else, he’d wished her joy and simply never thought of her again. He vaguely realised now that probably hadn’t been her main motivation is revealing that tit bit to him.  Then there was F&B journalist he’d met at a craft beer fair when he’d first started diversifying the farm. They’d gone out once she’d spent the entire night talking about her ex, who was a musician before puking in his car on the way home. He’d seen her at a few events since but she’s given him a wide berth. His car still smelt a bit on hot days.

But this, he knew, was different. He wanted to see her, to be in her company, to breath the same air as her. The thought of hearing her laugh, of maybe being the one who made her laugh…

After his fourth lap of the block he arrived back outside the bar. 6.55. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It was quiet, being Sunday night and the bar contained about a dozen people. A small group of men in the corner drinking stout and discussing the different brews, a couple at the bar, and Claire.

She sat at a table near the window, staring out at the street. There was a book of poetry spine up in front of her and she had glass and bottle in front of her. Her hair was pulled back slightly, but was starting to escape near the front. She wore black jeans and a black shirt.Her pale skin seemed to glow.  She was lovelier than he had remembered.

“I promise to try not to spill that one down you” he said with a smile. She looked up at him and he motioned to the drink in front of her. “I’m not saying I won’t, but I promise I’ll try”

She smiled back and stood. There was an awkward moment when neither of them seemed to really know what to do. He wanted to touch her, but a hug seemed too familiar, a handshake too formal. Claire solved the dilemma by putting her hand on his arm.

“It’s lovely to see you, Jamie” she said sincerely and he felt the heat rise in his face slightly.

“Oh great” he thought, “now I’m blushing” Claire sat, not seeming to notice the colour which had flooded his cheeks. She gestured for him to do the same. “I’ll just get a drink, can I get you another? A whiskey this time?”

“Oh, no, a little early in proceedings for whiskey yet. I’ll have another of these.” She tipped the bottle towards him. Lady Broch Taurach pale ale. He grinned at her. “You like that do you?”

 “oh yes, my friend Joe at work introduced me to craft beers and he’s a big fan of a little brewery near Inverness, Lallybroch, I think they’re called. I’ve developed a taste for this one”

He nodded and headed to the bar. Lallybroch microbrewery was the most recent expansion he had made to his family business. Lallybroch had been in his family since forever and was a the main factor in his decision to leave oil and gas and come home to Scotland. He was strangely chuffed that she was drinking his beer, brewed on his farm and although he knew it to be simple coincidence, he could not help but feel the same jolt of serendipitous good fortune that he’d felt when he had, quite literally, bumped into her the night before.

He returned with the drinks and sat down next to her so they could both look out of the window. Its started to rain. Because of course it had. It was Scotland. They chatted aimlessly and easily and Jamie’s nerves dissipated slightly. He was still incredibly aware of her, but she was so unassuming, so funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. She told him about her job at the hospital. She’s a surgeon. He told her about Lallybroch. She picked up the bottle in front of her. “I’m impressed. And who or what, exactly is a Lady Broch Taurach?”

“Well,” he settled in to tell a much loved story. “Lallybroch has been in my family since the eighteenth century. Back then we owned the whole estate, and our family were Lairds. The estate was called Broch Taurach, the Laird and his Lady were named for the estate. We just have the farm now, but it’s plenty.  The farm itself is a proper working hill sheep farm and we have some highland cattle as well. We have a tourist bit, with a gift shop and a restaurant and the such. And then about 18 months ago I opened the brewery. We sell to quite a few places. ‘The Laird’s bedroom’, which is a stout and the pale ale” he gestured to Claire’s drink “are probably our top sellers. I live in Glasgow most of the time, running the business side of things and my sister and her husband run the farm day to day”

“A brewer, my dream man” she said with a giggle taking a swig. By this point they’d both had more than was probably sensible or wise on a Sunday night and were both finding life and each other hilarious.

“So how did you end up in Scotland? A wee Sassenach lassie like yer self?” he deliberately thickened his highland accent  in the second half of the question and once again felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach at the sheer pleasure of making her laugh.

“Oh, well” her face darkened a bit “Well, it was my husband. Frank.”

“Your, your husband?” he swallowed audibly.

“Oh we’re divorced now. That tends to happen when your wife finds you in bed with your Phd student” She said this flippantly enough, but her jaw was set and her eyes had dulled.

“I’m sorry t’hear that, Claire”

“It’s fine, really, it’s just, well” She gestured vaguely into the air in a manner that conveyed that whilst things might be fine now, at some point in the not very distant past they had been a long way from fine. “It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t just lost the baby” Tears welled in her eyes and he could see her trying to master herself. He reached forward and took her hand.

“You don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, but if you want to talk. Well, I’ll do what I can to listen”  She gave him a watery half smile at that.

“Thank you, but really. It’s in the past. It was very hard at the time. I had to do a lot to move past it, but I did and I try not to look back.”

She squeezed his hand.

“I think I might let you buy me that whiskey now”

Several very good whiskeys later he had in turn told her all about Geneva, his terrible relationship history and the real reason for his being in the nightclub on the previous night.

Claire was doubled over with laughter as he reenacted the various conversations he had with people in the run up to the night itself.

“Why everyone seemed so sure I was gonna meet the love of my life in a dodgy Glasgow disco with sticky carpets and one pound shots I’ll never know? They must have really thought I was a hopeless case”

“I’m fairly certain that was why we ended up there as well. Glenna, one of the nurses I work with, has been trying to set me up for the past year. I know that Altered Images is definitely not poor Mary’s scene and from the way Geillie and Glenna were literally trying to throw me in the path of every man that came by, I suspect this was another attempt at finding me ‘a braw laddie’” She did a truly awful Scottish accent and they both laughed again.

“Ya know what, Claire?” he asked as he regained his composure, “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I have tonight, with you” Her colour heightened slightly at the compliment and she looked him in the eye.

Her eyes are the same colour as the whiskey he noted abstractly. Warm and golden, and so deep and rich you could lose yourself in them.

The moment was broken by the bar man coming over and asking them to drink up. Glancing around Jamie realised they were alone in the bar. He glanced at his watch.

“I er, well” He stuttered trying to find his thoughts. He did not want the night to end, but given that it was a Sunday night could think of no way to extend it.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Claire asked outright with no hint of nervousness. “I have whiskey” she added teasingly, seeing him hesitate.

“Aye, why not?” He suddenly felt very alive and not a small bit reckless. He had no expectations of her, but the idea of irresponsibly drinking Scapa Glansa on a Sunday night with the woman of his dreams seemed like too good a chance to pass up.

“I only live around the corner, we can walk” Gathering up her book, which lay discarded on the table, and bag she held out a hand to him. He took it and together they walked out into the rainy night

dating kim samuel

summary: what would dating kim samuel be like?


  • your relationship is probs likely to start off in an arcade
  • like maybe accidentally getting ur pokemon plushies mixed up?? LIKEDHCHEE
  • then you both continue to see each other
  • turns out for your first anniversary samuel takes you back to that arcade and u both reenact ur date :’)
  • god bless
  • you both would be super hot 
  • hottest couple in the century aye
  • samuels such a shy bean, even being with each other for months and years
  • he still gets shy
  • lots of:
  • “oH MY GOD”s around the apartment
  • too many 
  • frequent back hugs and kisses
  • being samuels #1 fan. literally. if you hear anyone saying that u will fite
  • “babe! you’re my number 1 fan in my heart, okay? dont be jealous”
  • “yah, samuel, im not jealous” >_<
  • lots of like cute ass names
  • like babe, angel, u get the basics
  • sometimes you have inside jokes and jokey sorta nicknames
  • like mickey and minnie?? yKNOw get it get it kKEKEKE
  • you both would be shy to do pda, but still kiss for like new years n christmas
  • that he would walk around the apartment SHIRTLESS???
  • its to the point where you both are super comfortable around each other
  • he’d just walk around shirtless
  • “you like it, dont you?!”
  • “I DONT!”
  • “babe, i saw you squealing over my fancams, dont need to lie ;)”
  • likes to wink to you a lot
  • you wear his clothes
  • a lot
  • big, baggy, and warm
  • lots of snuggling at night
  • you both tend to be either the big or smol spoon, cause you like hugging samuel
  • probably almost broke your skull one time bc u slammed ur head on samuels back rip
  • likes to take u to gym sessions
  • both working out
  • but u dont bc food
  • staying up at 3am, either eating or talking bout deep stuff
  • he enjoys your company
  • tells u secrets about his p101 hyungs
  • ALSO
  • “yah, turn off daniel hyungs camera :(”
  • gets jealous that ur p101 bias isnt him
  • lets be real, u tease him.
  • “jHHCHDH samuel baby i was just joking!! i love u”
  • “i heard you say that u love guanlin more…”
  • smol kisses
  • “i’ll miss u while you’re at work.. do well for me sammie!”
  • “dont call me that >_< i lOVE YOU Y/N!”
  • when he leaves for practice and when you leave for work, you both are super dramatic, like pretending you’re letting go of samuel like rose did for jack in the titanic lmfao
  • its cute tho
  • watching him practice
  • so much cheering
  • “hey y/n, what colour should i dye my hair next?”
  • “pink? try danie-”
  • arcade dates, duh
  • “LOOK AT THAT! its your fave pokemon at the machine! i’ll get you-”
  • “sam, i hAVE TOO MCUH ON MY BED”
  • “then get a bigger one!”
  • you: ;-; help me lord
  • you like to tease him about him when he was in p101
  • “…y/n, we spoke about this”
  • ur like that couple that RARELy FIGhts, why would u both fighttt
  • if you did
  • it will be very heartbreaking for the both of you as young kids (lol sowee)
  • the fights would probably be about like jealousy, if you notice a girl going on samuel and he doesnt do anything about it and vice versa
  • could be something more serious
  • if its about your job or something
  • it would result into you having a break
  • you would stay around your best friends house
  • as samuel stayed home
  • he’d talk to his hyungs for advice
  • tbh its a very rare shocking experience
  • like examples of probably what you’d say:
  • “gosh, do you do anything right?!”
  • “y/n/samuel, it’s not what it looks like..”
  • “leave me alone, im doing work”
  • “I just need time alone, would you PLEASE leave me alone?” harsh tones are being heard
  • “for god’s sake, why does everything have to be about you? someone else is with you, it’s not just about you all the time!”
  • you both wouldnt argue or shout that loud, but if it was serious then it might happen
  • you steal his clothes
  • all the time
  • “yah! y/n!”
  • “i looked at your insta, i saw you wearing my shirt..”
  • “iTS COMFY OKAY..”
  • speaking of insta
  • you both are couPLE AESTHETICSSS
  • samuel loves matching clothes with you
  • he finds it adorable
  • he would spoil the fuck outta you
  • if you eyed something, he would get it
  • “samuel no, it costs like freaking 5000 dollars why-”
  • “i’ll get it bc i love you!!”
  • “….and i never treat you :(( i cant even get you the new pokemon cards”
  • “you cheesy freak… JCHHE WHY DO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”
  • “bc im kim samuel, duh”
  • “ofc *sigh*”
  • samuel flexes his muscles quite often
  • this one time
  • he knows u like puppies
  • being the cheesy cute ass he is, he decides to get u one as your birthday, christmas or whatever anniversary gift
  • “oHMYGOD”
  • “SAMUEL!”
  • samuel gets attacked with kisses
  • “keke, calm down babe! it’s a gift..”
  • you have always said when you passed pet stores that you’ve wanted one
  • but your attention is to the pup now, not to the other pup sammy
  • “do i need to get rID OF THAT”
  • “what!! its my baby im feeding it..”
  • “yah, you only call me ur baby” !^_^!
  • “sHHH samuel its sleeping”
  • “y/N!”
  • samuel loves you a lot
  • also
  • theres gonna be more than 50 i love yous. thats how much sammy boi loves you
  • ALSO hates it when you call him “sammy boy” and “sammy”
  • very encouraging
  • “dont be stressed my love! you are doing so well, you can do this for me ok? fighting !!”
  • protective af.
  • “dont touch her, shes mine.”
  • “chill sam, i was hugging her!” from daehwi
  • his hyungs love you too
  • “only I can love her, idiots.”
  • “y/n! did you eat breakfast?”
  • silence…
  • “oh god, you’re cold right? im holding your hand and you are freaking pale. here.”
  • hands you his jacket
  • “see, its winter. who wears vests in the winter? pabo..”
  • treats you like a queen
  • you’re his number #1
  • you both tend to speak english
  • old ladies like to compliment u both
  • whenever there are parties you and samuel are invited to, when you enter the entire room stops and claps
  • people love you
  • his fans adore you
  • samuel does vlives with you
  • probably the boyfriend tag
  • samuel talked to his fans about being in a relationship with you
  • basically, hes the pERFECT BOYFRIEND
  • legit
  • the PERFECT
  • you are a lucky human if yOU EVEN BREATHE WITH SAMUEL
  • brief summary:
  • samuel loves you so freaking much he would do anything for you
  • support kim samuel on august!!!
  • phew what a story
WestAllen Fic:

Title: her own finite time
Pairing/Characters: Iris/Barry
Rating: Explicit
Word Count:  2481  

Summary: God damnit the world is a so dark lately, if she can pry some small spark of joy out of it in half an hour with her amnesiac fiancé doing something a little unwise on her apartment floor, then she’s not turning down the opportunity. 

An extension of the scene in 3x21 when amnesiac!Barry rediscovers his powers, because he and Iris totally had sex right after that, guys.


“You kissed me and gave me super powers,” Barry is sitting on the floor looking at Iris like she just sprouted wings.

“No, that’s – no,” Iris gently grasps his shoulders, “you got your speed from a particle accelerator explosion. I… just set it off.”

Barry looks unconvinced. “What’s a particle accelerator?”

She has literally no idea how to explain that to him. “We should get you back to Star Labs – Cisco can take you through all this stuff, I’ll call him now – ”

She’s working on getting to her feet and remembering where she put her phone before he kissed her, when Barry is tugging at her wrist. “Do – do you have to?”

“Have to?”

“Call Cisco? I mean, right now – ?” his ears are colouring, his expression sheepish, “I just… I was kinda enjoying – ”

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the dream we dream together here (Zutara Week 2017: Soulmates)

*shows up late with Starbucks* Anyway, this is my very late submission for ZK Week 2017, under the Day 6 ‘Soulmates’ prompt (namely: the idea that you see your soulmate as a ghost after s/he dies, which is… admittedly just a very flimsy excuse for me to write my two favourite things: snow and angst, but oh well)

A hundred years from now, dear heart,
We shall not mind the pain;
The throbbing crimson tide of life
Will not have left a stain.
The song we sing together, dear,
The dream we dream together here,
Will mean no more than means a tear
Amid a summer rain.

- John Bennett, In a Rose Garden

A List of Things You Learn Growing Up in the South Pole

1. Things disappear.            

Amongst the glaciers, transience is a concept everyone learns from childhood. Nothing ever stays. Snowflakes melt the moment you tip your face up to them, there and gone in a blink as they catch on your eyelashes. You wake up one morning to find half the village’s meat supplies gone, dragged by wolves into the tundra sometime in the night. Every year when the worst of the blizzards hit, there are always people who go missing, caught in the storm and unable to find their way home, their cries indistinguishable from the screaming of the winds outside the heavy folds of the tents.            

Things disappear. Mothers are alive one moment, and gone the next. Fathers kiss you goodbye and vanish over the waves, bringing all the men of the village with him as they sail into war.            

You dumb-dumb, Sokka says to her once when she is six years old, when he jumps triumphantly out at her from where she is hiding, giggling, behind the alcove where the Southern Water Tribe stores their firewood. That’s gotta be the easiest game of Hide-and-Seek anyone’s ever played. You gotta learn to hide your footprints, Katara. I followed them all the way here.            

She sticks her tongue out at him. I hate snow! If we didn’t live in the South Pole, you wouldn’t have been able to find me.            

Maybe, Sokka says. But I like it. I like seeing where people go, or where they come from. I like that people know where I am. He jumps away from her, sending a spray of snow in the air, his boots leaving a perfect imprint in the white. It’s like a stamp, see? I am here!         

Yeah, I guess snow isn’t so bad, Katara says. If we didn’t live here, I couldn’t do this.             

Sokka turns just in time for the snowball to hit him in the face.

(2. How to run from your brother.)           

Later, they walk home, Sokka keeping a firm grip on his sister’s hand as dusk begins to fall, as the Southern Water Tribe begin to light their lanterns. Katara looks over her shoulder behind them to see the trail of their footprints already vanishing under the falling snow. 

I am here, Sokka had declared, a wild and defiant clarion call. I am here! But Katara looks at her footprints which are already beginning to fill in, and thinks instead, I am disappearing.  

3. Things reappear.            

But the sea never takes without giving back. Amongst the glaciers, return is also a concept everyone learns from childhood. Driftwood you hurl into the ocean one summer washes up on the black shores the next. Star-flowers survive the ice and the hail to push their weary heads out into the weak sunlight every spring.    

The Avatar, a hundred years later, turns up in an iceberg.           

 And three months after his funeral, Katara wakes up one night to see Zuko sitting on her bed. 

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