if you squint and look sideways

minho-gon-dibidibidis  asked:

Hey MAHM! Hope you're having a good night ><~ loves Could u do a SHINee reacting to it being rainy and they were supposed to go out? Like thunder and lightning rainy xD

hi baby~ i love this prompt bc shinee’s known as the rainy men literally they bring clouds to whatever event they perform at


  • squints at sky 
  • hoe don’t do it 
  • sky: *begins to pour*
  • OMG not again
  • and the wind is blowing so hard that the rain is going sidewAYS 
  • they’re staying inside 
  • plans are cancelled 
  • this day in general is cancelled 
  • the last time he went out in this kind of weather his umbrella flipped and dragged him down the street while he struggled to maintain his dignity (jong: looked like a v harassed mary poppins / onew: helpful, thanks)


  • ah the weather matches my stormy poetic heart 
  • but also scowling and calling the weather app a liar bc he chECKED the forecast maybe once an hour yesterday and it said that it was supposed sunshiney af all day today
  • that’s why there’s no trust in this family 
  • looking forlornly out the window 
  • do you think that someone put a curse on them
  • how does this always happen
  • ?????????


  • i can wear my jeremy scott raincoat~~~
  • therefore was voted the one to go out and buy groceries bc they are out and are in need of food 
  • damn his fashionable practicality 
  • when he came back he’s dripping and his bangs are plastered to his forehead (minho: wow did jonghyun cry on you / jong: *was minding his own damn business* hEY) 
  • jong: where did your umbrella go / key: i don’t want to talk about it / onew: *pats his shoulder* i feel you
  • shakes his hair like a dog @ all the members 
  • like father, like sons 


  • v rudely awakened by a clap of thunder 
  • he bolted up so he found himself in a sitting position with his fists up  (onew: it’S ALIVE!!!!! ALIVEEEEEE)
  • laughing at himself bc you can’t fight the sky minho
  • (yet) 
  • covers his head again with his blankets bc clearly the universe hates them and don’t want them to go out 
  • making everyone ramen (taemin: i’m helping / minho: absolutely not) so that they could eat while they grumble at the sky like old men 


  • guys they could totally still go out
  • after key headbutts him with his still wet hair: 
  • nvm 
  • everything is terrible 
  • why must they live like this  
  • he busyeoed  the ramen (ot4: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO RAMEN) 
  • ~popping~ 
  • he put on sunny day video from youtube so they could pretend that it’s nice out (ot5: wow this is a next level of sad)
Artwork (Negan x Female)

Summary: Negan gives her a gift for her birthday.

Characters: Negan x Female

Word Count: 1,219

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Fluff

Author’s Note:  @illysamorgan asked me to write her a birthday fic, so here you go! I hope this little drabble is to your liking and I hope you have a happy birthday, dear!

I am always happy to hear what you think! Shoot me a message and tell me what you thought! If you want to be on my tag list, let me know!

Originally posted by heartfulloffandoms

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Guardian (IX)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Electric-shock torture 

Word Count: 3,826

Summary:  You keep seeing the same guy everywhere you go. In the coffee shop, on the streets, in your philosophy class. It’s getting to the point where you think he’s stalking you - only to realize that maybe there’s something much more mysterious at play here. (AU: Chen is your guardian angel)

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Submission: Logic Wins (pre Obito/Kurama if you squint and look sideways)

This was an unexpected turn of events indeed. Kakashi had sensed him - SEEN him, through all the masks both physical and mental - and his will to fight seemed to drain away.
Obito snarled, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, Kakashi had killed Rin so WHY couldn’t Obito hate him?
He’d sort that out later, though. Madara had been getting more reckless and destructive with his jutsu, and Obito swore as he saw the shadow of Heaven Concealed darken the battlefield.
“Damn it, what is he THINKING?!” he hissed, before he saw the blond Kyūbi jinchūriki fall to his knees as a rush of red chakra flooded out, forming a single spire that shot into the sky and split the falling meteor apart.
As rubble rained down around them, the crimson energy settled back down and solidified, and Obito found himself face-to-muzzle with the Kyūbi no Yōko. The great beast huffed and gave him a look that could only be described as exasperated. “You know, before I met the brat, I’d have eaten you for the shit you’ve pulled. Now though, I just want to know WHY THE HELL YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD WORK.”
Obito almost backed up from the snarling bijū, but steeled himself and returned the fox’s slit-eyed glare with one of his own. “I assume ‘this’ refers to the Infinite Tsukuyomi?” he asked carefully.
The Kyūbi snorted. “Yes. You do know that it would have very quickly resulted in the end of the world, yes? When trapped in an enending genjutsu, there’s some things that won’t happen. Like eating and drinking. It would take less than a week until every living creature on this Earth died of dehydration and/or starvation. Then, with no animals to keep the ecosystems in check, plants would start to die as well. Within a decade, tops, the entire planet would be an uninhabitable rock floating through space.”
That… was not something that had ever crossed his mind, and the words pulled his brain to a screeching halt. “The point of this was never to kill people…”
“I know, Uchiha. That’s why I’m telling you. Madara’s too far gone in his own madness to listen to a word anyone says. You need to help us stop him and Shinju, or every living thing on this planet will die. Understood?”
Obito glared across the battlefield at Madara, who was cackling as he raced towards the gasping jinchuuriki. “I understand… Thank you…”
“Kurama, kid. My name is Kurama.”
“Thank you, Kurama, for putting me back on the right path…”
“Shut the hell up with your sappiness, you hairless monkey, and go punch Madara through a boulder.”

Leia stares, brown, shadow-ringed glare boring into Han’s back, and then she drops the tray on top of his head. The stew splatters everywhere, and a small cup of pudding goes flying.

“Oh no, I’m too weak to do anything, since I’m a princess.” With that, she turns on her heel and storms out. Luke’s stare is reproachful.

“It’s the anniversary, Han,” he says before he disappears after Leia, and Han knows he deserved that. Teach him to open his big mouth.

Thumping the book against a thigh, Luke slumps further into his seat in the Falcon’s rec area. The dim lighting helps, and there’s barely any red irritation on his wrists from the mag cuffs left, now. Heavy footsteps come closer, then stops. Chewie stands silent above him before he sits down.

Luke’s silent for several minutes, before he slowly slids sideways, head meeting the thick fur covering Chewbacca’s upper arm.

“… Can you still count yourself ‘freeborn’ if you end up enslaved? Even if it was just for three days?” Luke’s voice is rough and barely a whisper; Chewie doesn’t respond, but wraps his arm around Luke and pulls him closer.

“You okay, miss?”

Ahsoka squints up into a triple-sun— no, that’s just two suns and the sun-lit blond head of a ten-year old boy, eyes blue and bright with concern. He looks familiar for some reason she can’t place, but maybe that’s just the crash addling her brain, who knows. The boy turns around and waves to someone she can’t see.

“Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru! The pilot’s alive!”

All she knows is that as soon as the Imperial ship that was chasing her lands, these people’s lives are going to change very, very quickly, and she’s sorry for that.

Luke closes his eyes, and tries to breathe.

In. Out. All he can smell is smoke, ashes, burning oil and electronics and the lingering trace of cooked flesh.

He feels like throwing up.

Darth Vader lands in front of him with rattling force and the suddenness of a striking krayt dragon. Luke stumbles back, patting for his lightsaber with one hand and pulling his blaster up with his other. Three seconds later his fingers are numb, the blaster is on the grating on the floor, his (his father’s) lightsaber is at Vader’s hip, and he…

“LET GO OF ME! How did you even— there was no one else in this part of the ship!” The armour digging into his stomach is very uncomfortable, and Vader seems unbothered by his struggles.

“I am not restricted to using shuttles or suits for a space walk, Skywalker.”

The liquid inside the tank is nearly milky, and Luke can feel his heartbeat behind his eyes as he stares at the even paler body held within.

There are no limbs. Not a single one. It would be so very easy

Yellow eyes snap open, and Luke feels like he can’t breathe.

Have some flash bits. Nothing in particular, just some tiny bites of writing.

When Rey first sees Finn again, he has someone with him.

(That doesn’t stop her from kissing him, obviously. And holding him for as long as she can.)

The person Finn’s with waits very politely, and Rey moves to shake her hand as soon as she can bear to separate herself from Finn.

“So, who’s this?”

“Rose,” Finn says, cracking a sideways smile. “The mechanic. We, uh. Got assigned to a thing together, and…” He tilts his head and looks at her in a way that’s probably meant to imply something.

Rey squints at Finn. She’s not good at reading these long pauses.

“I’ll tell you later,” Finn says, and Rey nods curtly. That’d probably be best; Rose is holding her polite expression very nicely but really shouldn’t be forced to stand here and listen to the couple talk.

Rey catches Rose’s eye and startles a little.

Rose has dark eyes. Like Finn’s, in a way, but also completely different; hers shine with curiosity and interest. She has a hard set to her eyebrows and mouth, despite her soft cheeks, and Rey guesses that choppy, soft haircut was self-inflicted.

Rey also guesses that she’s going to have a hard time keeping herself away from Rose, with those eyes.


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Nobody (Part 3)

Plot:  Reader has been held prisoner by Hydra and is discovered by Nat and Bucky.  Post CA:CW (Bucky’s on the team, no one hates each other) Slight AU

Warnings: mentions of past torture/imprisonment, language, injury, shooting, violence, deaths….can’t think of anything else.

Words: ~3000 (i got carried away and felt bad for being MIA for so long)

A/N:  Sorry I’ve been gone for a while. Hope this next part makes up for it!  

Reader’s POV

You couldn’t be completely sure given your terrible vision, but the man seemed to be smiling at you which was weird since nobody ever smiled at you.  People snarled, growled, grimaced, hollered, spit, laughed, and sneered at you, but nobody ever smiled at you.  He’s probably not smiling

The man took a step forward, studying your tired, sunken eyes and the bruise patterns which peppered your hollow cheeks. He cleared his throat and spoke in that soft angelic voice again.  “What’s your name?”

Didn’t we just go over this? You couldn’t help the furrow in your brow at these two new guards.  Everything they did was completely backwards.  But it’s best not to argue.

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The Joker x Pregnant Reader

Well, it happened and that’s all there is to it. Cross your fingers and hope for the best. At least he didn’t try to kill you…yet.    T__T

Read part 2 here:http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153717572186/the-joker-x-pregnant-reader-2

“No better time to tell him then now,” you think to yourself, stretching your back and your arms like you’re about to run a marathon.  The Joker was able to retrieve the building plans for the Arkham Asylum and now he’s going over them in the living room, trying to see how he can use them next time you guys might end up in there. You take a deep breath and walk over to him, then you just kind of sit there, waiting to get his attention. He finally notices you and lifts his non-existing eyebrows, question-like expression on his face.

“I have something important to tell you, J.”

“You’re wearing the pink lingerie I got you yesterday?” he winks, glaring at you up and down.

“Well, in the matter of fact I am, but that’s…”
“Show me!” he impatiently demands, crossing his legs.

“Ummm, I would love to, but first I need to tell…”

“Just take the damn clothes off, Princess, I wanna see!” the Joker raises his voice, starting to tap his pen on the table, making obnoxious noises.

You roll your eyes and take your top off, revealing your pink bra and that earns you a very load roar and a whistle.

“Oohhh, daddy likes…Continue!”

You don’t have time for this, you’re on a mission.

“I’m pregnant,” you quickly say, placing your hands on your hips.

J drops his pen.

“No you’re not!” he squints his eyes, moving his jaw sideways.

“Well, the 7 different pregnancy tests that turned positive beg to differ.” You smack your lips, looking him in the eyes.

“No way!” he opens his mouth, amazed, still not getting the picture.

You point your finger towards your pelvis and accentuate each word:

“See this  “ Property of J” tattoo? Baby right under, yours and mine.”

He looks stunned.

“I thought we… can’t, we tried before…” Mister J gets up and walks towards you in slow motion, like he’s afraid you might blow up soon and take the penthouse down with you.

“Apparently you’re that good, Puddin,” you snicker excited, running in his arms.

He lifts you up the ground and hugs you so tight that you gasp when you kiss him.

Just when you’re about to get lost in the kiss, he breaks the magic, puts you down and purrs in your ear:

“Is it mine?”

You squirm and reach for his holster, taking out his gun really fast and point it to his temple, outraged at the question. Safety clicks.

“What did you just say?!”

He starts laughing maniacally, gripping your wrist and pushing it down.

“It’s not even loaded, so don’t bother.”

“You’re bluffing!” you sneer, fully knowing his gun is always loaded.

“God, I love it when your feisty, is it going to get worst with the pregnancy?” he says in a low voice, licking his lips. He violently pulls you in his arms again and you let go of the gun.

“So I’ve heard,” you sigh and let out a soft moan as he starts biting your neck.

“Oh, goody, I can’t wait!” He unhooks your bra, grazing your shoulder with his silver grill.

“What about you show me the bottom part of this pink stuff?”


“So Frosty, what should I do?,” J asks his trusted henchman, gesturing with his hands like he’s waiting for a very philosophical reply.

“Ummm…I don’t know, sir…” Frost answers, lifting his broad shoulders.

“But she’s pregnant. Should I kill her?”

“You realize I can hear you, right?” You scoff on the couch while changing channels on TV.

“No you’re not hearing this, baby doll. This is guy talk.”

“Whatever,” you nod your head, annoyed he’s teasing you so much.

“I’m the Joker,” he continues his conversation with Frost. “What am I supposed to do as a dad, hmmm? I really can’t take care of anything…that’s alive.”

“You’re taking care of Y/N sir.”

“HA!!!!” you let it out, fakely amused. “That’s a good one!”

“Pumpkin, I told you you’re not hearing this!”

“Whatever!” you protest.

“Did you hear her, Frosty?… I hate being in love, it really sucks,” J complains, sighing.

Frost is determined not to let a single muscle move on his face when he hears such abomination coming out of his boss’s mouth. He seriously doubts the Joker understands the concept of being in love, but he can’t say shit.

“That’s it, I’m done!” you say, irritated, leaving the couch and going towards the master bedroom.

“I think I pissed her off,” Mister J whispers to Frost, proud of himself.


Problems arise:

** J flips when he hears you want to sleep in the baby’s room for a while when he or she is born. He thinks your place is always by him, no matter what. After getting tired of explaining without any results, you both settle for the baby to actually sleep in the master bedroom, this way he still has you in bed with him.

** ”I hope the baby has your blue eyes,” you smile, thinking how nice that would be.

“No, green like yours, this way I don’t miss you when you’re going somewhere without me.”

“Awwww, are you trying to be cute, J ?  BLUE!” you frown.

“NO, green.”


After fighting for half an hour, you give up, exhausted.

“You better have blue eyes,” you whisper, caressing your abdomen.


How the hell did he hear that from the hallway?!

** ”If it’s a boy, we’ll name him J Jr. and if it’s a girl Emma,” Mister J decides.

“ I like J Jr. but if it’s a girl her name will be Ella.”


“Don’t start, J. Ella!”

After an hour of bickering, both commonly agree you’re going to leave this to faith so you flip a coin.

J wins.

You don’t talk to him for a week.

** ”My son or daughter is not going to be allowed to have any tattoos , ever!” you stump out of the shower, leaving J in there alone.

“Come on, Princess, why not? We have a bunch!”

“NO! “ you grab a towel and wrap it around you.

He gets out of there, water dripping all over the floor, stroking his green hair, fully aware he can make you change your mind.

You face the mirror and he comes behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other hand to draw a smiley face on the steamy glass right where your mouth’s reflection is.

He starts rocking you slowly and takes your towel off, pressing himself against you.

“Kitten, what about 5 tattoos, hmm? It’s not a bad number,” his hands slide down your thighs, proud of his negotiation skills.


His hands stop.


“Four, baby, take or leave it. Or…do you want me to leave you hanging?! You’ve been wanting this all week,” you seductively moan, biting your lip.

“…Dammit, fine!”

You finally got something going for yourself.

**”I’m not putting away the guns, I like them all over the place,” he pouts, unhappy.

“You gotta. Not right now, but we can’t have Ella…”


“Emma,” you mock, “running around the penthouse with loaded guns all over.”

She’s not even born yet and he feels his life is going downhill. So depressing. “Why did Y/N even get pregnant for?” The Joker thinks, irritated. “Probably did it on purpose to antagonize me”. He would never tell you, but he Googled “How to be a father” and read a bunch of scary stuff about the wonders of parenting. He would rather deal with Batsy for that matter.


**This is unbelievable, but your little girl has your eyes, not his blue eyes. J wins again and you have to deal with it.

“Daaaaddy…pic’ ‘e up!” she whines at his feet, reaching her tiny arms for him.

He grunts, pretending she’s so heavy when he lifts her. She chuckles, kissing his pale cheek and he just stares at her, not really knowing why he feels so delighted. He tilts his head close to her forehead so she can play with his bright green hair and she loves it.

“Little Princess, you can’t really call me daddy, we have to find something else. Only mommy can call me that when I…”

“ J !!!” you shout, “What the hell?!”

“I think we upset mommy,” he crinkles his nose and Emma smiles, not understanding of course. “Daddy wants to get some tonight and we can’t risk make mommy mad.”

“J, are you serious?!”

“What? I’m just having a conversation with my daughter and she doesn’t even know what I’m saying. “

“Well, if Daddy wants to get some,” you ironically say, “he should close it down.”

The Joker kisses Emma’s nose and she giggles, ticklish.

“You think mommy’s bluffing?” he whispers. “I bet I can get some no matter what, she can’t resist me.”

“You realize I can hear you, right?” you lift your eyebrows, annoyed.

Needless to say Daddy slept on the couch all night.

 Requested by anon:

Also read - MASTERLIST :


Saving Her (B.Barnes)

Saving Her

Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, violence, protective!Bucky

The thick smoke curls under your nose, flowing into your senses before you can turn away. Ashy air flows into your lungs, your neck craning against the wall as you thrash away from the stench. With your hands pinned above your head, your body is stretched out in front of the stranger. Steel plated boots stand on your feet, pinning them to the ground so you wouldn’t be able to fight against him.

“Such a pretty girl, a shame that I’m going to have to kill you.” The Russian officer chuckles, placing his knife at the base of your throat, lightly pressing into the delicate skin. Narrowing your eyes, you shift against his hand on your wrists, earning a harsh press of the knife into your neck. A few drops of blood drip down your skin, pooling on your breasts that remain exposed from the dip of your low cut top.

He smiles down at you, his crooked and yellowing teeth in your face. “It’s nothing personal, love. Honestly you’re not even my target but at this point you know too much to not be considered dangerous. Just think, had you not fallen in love, you would be safe and sound - not mere moments from death.”

You observe the man, remembering every detail of his face. The slight slope of his nose is crooked in the middle, shifting it to lean towards the left side of his face. A long scar follows his jawline, his thick stubble hiding it only partly. His hairs clean cut and swept from his face, hidden under a military cap that has seen it’s fair share of damage.

Your mouth stays pressed shut, knowing if you speak he will only get angrier with your lack of information. You knew almost everything to do with the topic he was asking about but you’d never admit that to your attacker, you wouldn’t even mumble a single word to him just yet, waiting for the right time.

“Maybe I should take you home, lock you up and keep you for myself, huh? Tell my boss that you’re dead, tell him I sliced this pretty neck in half. That’d make both of us very happy, right? I’d get you to myself and you’d get to live. Fair trade.” The man mewls, his lips gracing across your ear as he tells you his plan in explicit detail. You hold back the need to vomit as he speaks, your eyes darting around the seemingly empty room for any sort of material you could wield as a weapon.

The man continues to drawl out his words, sliding the knife across your neck slowly - light enough not to draw blood but enough to remind you that it is indeed there. He pushes the knife up your cheek, pushing your hair back with the blunt edge of it. His hot breath falls on your temple, his eyes hooded with lust as he looks down at you.

Sliding your foot out from under his, you jut your knee up into his groin. He chokes and steps back, anger flashing through his already dark eyes. You try to run, moving as fast as you can before a hand encases your hair and pulls you back. You trip and land on the ground before receiving a harsh kick to the stomach. A yelp escapes your lips, your hands gripping the mans boot before you twist his ankle backwards. 

The strange man growls and pulls you up by your hair, pinning you to the wall with enough force to make your head slam against the thick surface. Blinking away the pain, you don’t have enough time to brace yourself for the fist that is centimeters from your face. After a few hits and many slaps, you spit blood from your mouth and cough, slumping in the mans hold.

The guy smiles again at you, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re going to die.” You grunt, pulling away from his horrid breath. 

He chuckles at you, pressing his knife to your cheek to make you look at him. “Oh, and who’s going to kill me? Most definitely not you, you’re nothing but an average girl, not stronger than a little child.” His accent purrs sexist words in your face, your teeth grinding against one another.

“I won’t kill you, but he might.” You answer slyly, spitting more blood from your mouth. The man pulls away from you, raising an eyebrow before following your gaze to the other end of the room, his knife pressed snugly against your jugular.

His eyes meet an extremely pissed off James Barnes. 

Bucky bounds the steps quickly, his fists clench as a snarl forms on his lips. One glance at you has his heart racing faster than he ever though was possible, his mind clouding with the need to kill the man who dared to lay a finger on the only thing he has ever loved more than his own life.

The man visibly gulps, his grip on you tightening before he pulls you to stand in front of him, his knife pressed against you, digging into your skin enough to draw blood.

“One more move and I’ll slit her throat.” The man barks, expecting Bucky to listen to his orders. “Stay where you are or she’s going to die, do you understand me?

Bucky shakes his head, pulling out a gun before pointing it at the mans head. “What, are you going to kill her and try to beat me with a knife? If you so much as touch her for a second longer I’ll blow your brains against the fucking wall. I will kill you in the most painful way possible, so I’m warning you now - back away from her, now.”

Your attacker shakes his head, holding you more in front of him. “I’ll let her go if you surrender yourself.” The man bargains, your eyes widening when you see Bucky seriously contemplating the trade off. 

You struggle against the man, shaking your head relentlessly. “No, Bucky, don’t go with him! Please!” You beg, fighting more as the arms around you start to tighten. Bucky cocks the gun in his hand, his eyes showing his discomfort with the fact your in extreme danger.

Bucky had always warned you about the dangers of becoming involved with him, he pleaded you to stay away from him and he didn’t think he would be strong enough to stay away from you. He needed you to be safe and in your opinion, you were safest in his arms - but, in his, you were safest thousands of miles away from him with the memory of him fading every day. 

When he had finally given in to the relationship, he made your safety his top priority. You were always on his mind, there was never a time when he wasn’t fussing over locking all the doors and windows, scoping out the neighborhood or interrogating the neighbors. You thought he was going overboard but he knew deep in his heart that something bad would happen to you - he just wanted to prolong that for as long as he possibly could.

And now, here you were with a knife to your throat and blood dripping down your neck. Bucky cursed himself for leaving you home alone when he went out grocery shopping, he tried to get you to go but you had refused, claiming you wanted to finish watching your show. He had woken up feeling as if something bad was going to happen today, he wished he had listened to it like he usually did instead of push it away to focus on how beautiful you looked with your hair strewn about the pillow.

“Drop the gun, soldier!” The man yells in your ear, your eyes squinting shut at the sheer volume. Wiggling your neck a few inches from the man, you steps sideways which in turn resulted in him losing his footing momentarily. You took the opportunity to slip from his grasp and run into Bucky’s chest.

Your boyfriends human arm wound around your waist, pushing you behind him to shield you from anymore harm. The Russian man pulls a gun from his belt, clicking the safety off before aiming at Bucky, his finger sliding along the cool metal of the trigger.

Bucky shoot down at the mans ankle, the bullet snapping into the bone before he jumps on top of the injured man, his fists piling into the intruders face. Bucky’s metal arm whirs as he lifts it and delivers blow after blow, his face red with anger. 

Shielding your eyes, you cup the decent sized cut on your neck to help stop the bleeding. Before you know it, Bucky has ceased all movement, standing from the near dead man below you. Walking swiftly over to you, Bucky holds your cheeks in his hands as he surveys the damage.

You place your hands on his chest, looking up at him. His eyes are clouded over with thick tears that threaten to spill, his head shaking at the sight of your bruised and bloodied face. “I am so sorry.” He chokes out before collapsing into your arms.

“Bucky, this is not your fault. None of this is your fault. HYDRA is the only thing to blame here, not you. I wasn’t that mans target, he didn’t even know I was a person until he saw me on the couch and just assumed I knew something about you. Stop blaming yourself, I’m okay. I love you.” You coo, brushing his hair from his face.

His metal fingers run along the cut on your neck, cooling the burning skin. “I love you so much, I’m never going to not love you. I just..I need to be more careful with you. I can’t put you in danger anymore, I don’t know how I didn’t rip that guys head off the second I walked in here. I’m so sorry.”

His tears pool around your shoulder, soaking the shirt you have on. “Let’s call Steve, see how to get that guy out of our apartment and then, we will cuddle for the rest of the day, okay?” You suggest, nudging his nose with your own.

He nods, blinking away leftover tears. You smile, pressing your lips to his slightly chapped ones, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hands grip your cheeks. 

With that one kiss, Bucky knew he could never leave you. He loved you too much to leave you, so he decided that the next best thing for your safety would be for him to protect you tooth and nail, for the rest of his life.

“do you remember what we did the first time we came here?,”

 Alec smiled at the clearly rhetorical question, squinting sideways toward Magnus, eyeing him fondly. The warlock was leaning against the glass barrier of the balcony, wine glass in hand as he looked out over the city, a lazy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

 “i’ve got a pretty vivid picture,” Alec replied finally, tapping his own wine glass gently as he wandered over to where Magnus stood, stopping a little ways behind him.

 Magnus sighed theatrically before turning around, feigning disappointment, tokyo lights glinting off the rim of his glass.

 “any chance of a refresher?” came the innocent question, laced with mischief as he glanced up at alec, eyebrows raised hopefully.

 Alec felt an airy laugh escape him at Magnus’ expression, finding the way his nose scrunched up far too adorable. Ducking his head down he swallowed thickly, tongue pressed up against his bottom lip in a valiant attempt to control his face as he stepped forward. Any composure he might have had left crumbled as a warm hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, cold metal rings making him shiver before he found Magnus’ mouth, smiling into the kiss. It was soft and slow and sweet, mirroring the way Alec had kissed him the last time - the first time: pushed up against the barrier, hands roaming from his chest to his neck to his waist, fingers sliding through his belt loops lightly.

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Family Ties Chapter 1

Pairing:Kihyun x reader

genre:drama, slight angst maybe if you squint kind of hard and look at it sideways?, royalty!au kind of

Word Count:1360

Summary:Your family and his don’t get along. You two do. What to do, what to do

Chapter 2


Around the ballroom you twirled and glided, barely making any sound with your footfalls as if your steps were not so much going back to the ground as they were a gentle sweep across the floor from above as you continued to drift over it. You passed from one partner to the next through the minuet, getting lost in the steps and the music, carrying many sets of eyes with you as you graced the floor with the touch of your slippers, and as you graced many a duke’s son or a merchant’s younger brother or such with the passing touch of your hand in his as you danced. In fact, there was one particular set of eyes that followed you even more closely than the rest, though he was as discrete about it as he could manage.

Kihyun, younger brother of the recently crowned duke of the Onirynn province, which was named after their family. His station made him a rather popular dance partner for mothers to hurl their daughters at throughout the course of events such as these. However, it was his beautiful features and his sure manner that made him popular with the younger women. He had a very intense gaze, even when he wasn’t staring. Any time he looked at anyone, he had a way of drawing them in simply because his eyes were so deep and inviting. It suited him well. He was very skilled in the art of behaving like a very inviting sort of person. He was charismatic, and a good talker. He behaved sweetly, and was very adaptable, but he was the sort of man that got what he wanted one way or another. Except with you. You were off limits. For having watched you so much through events like this, he had nothing to show for it. Hardly a single word had been exchanged between the two of you, he’d certainly never held any kind of real conversation with you, and he’d never been the one to show you off as a dance partner. Every time he’d considered it, his mother’s words had echoed in his head.

Never dance with a Praevorian girl, Kihyun. Don’t speak to Praevorians unless you must, don’t dance with them, and certainly don’t ever get to be friends with one of them, or fall for one.

And he was trying. However, even for having spoken with you so little, he was getting to be in danger of failing. If it hadn’t been for all of the people present, all of whom had mouths with which to gossip, he’d have let his mother down already by now. But the people were there, and there certainly would be plenty of gossip floating around if an Onirynn danced with a Praevorian, so he’d have to settle for letting his eyes trail along with you from afar.


As the dance finished, you clapped along with everyone else, glancing around the room in the hopes that your eyes might casually fall on that one man in particular. You’d been forbidden to befriend him, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t admire him from afar, now did it? After all, it was a rather large party. It was unlikely that you would be noticed in such a vast sea of people to be staring at anyone in particular for so brief a time. However, after failing to spot him, you gave a resigned sigh and made your way over to a man serving drinks to get yourself one.

“Oh, dear, you are the most marvelous dancer in this hall tonight.” An older woman called you over to join in a passing conversation. “What is your name, sweetheart?”

You smiled at her kind words as you introduced yourself to her and the young couple with her. As you talked, you became aware that the man was her daughter and the girl was his new wife. They were pleasant, so you enjoyed the conversation for a little while as you drank.

“Oh, Kihyun! Come join us, we were just talking with this delightful young lady!”

What? Kihyun? She knows him? Oh there he is. He’s coming over.”

“Oh hello! I’m glad you came, it’s been a while since I saw you. And congratulations on your wedding.” He greeted them all in turn, until finally his inviting eyes landed on you. For just a passing moment, he held your gaze in silence before he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Good evening, miss.” He gave a little bow as he acknowledged you, and you returned it with one of your own.

“Oh do you two know eachother?”

“We’ve met, but never really spoken.” You answered her, keeping your eyes on Kihyun and sporting a guarded smile.

“Oh, well then don’t let me stop you! Here, enjoy your drinks, it’s time these two newlyweds had a dance. Come on now!”

And with that she was off, leaving the two of you to carry the conversation on your own. There was a little while of silence, in which neither of you made a move to leave. But neither of you really seemed to know what to say. In the silence, both your ears and his perked up to the sound of a couple of women gossiping a little too loudly.

‘Isn’t that the Praevorian girl talking with an Onirynn boy? Are they courting? They would make a beautiful couple.’

‘I can’t imagine their families would allow any of that. They’ve been at each other’s throats since a Praevorian man married an Onirynn girl and managed to inherit such a huge chunk of their land for his own family.’

You sighed resignedly. This was ridiculous. So, finally, you spoke up and broke the rather uncomfortable silence.

“I think this whole feud between our families is a little ridiculous, I don’t think we should have to be cold with each other to please people who are bitter about something that happened a hundred years ago.”

“My family sees yours as a bunch of thieving snakes who swiped our land right out from under us.”

“Yes and mine sees yours as people who made the decision to marry in with us and then when we accepted what was rightfully ours, you tried to stop it and go back on everything. And I don’t think anything of it at all beyond what I must because of my family’s bias. I didn’t marry anyone, or inherit any land, and neither did you. I don’t think we should have such social constraints for something so far in the past.”

There was a brief but pregnant silence.

“I agree.”

“You do?”


“Well that’s a relief. I’m not the only person who thinks that way.”

“You know, it’s very bold of you to be so open and forward with someone like me.”

“Well the silence was getting to be unbearable, and it seemed like you were as uncomfortable with it as I was.”

He laughed slightly at your bluntness. Honestly, he found it refreshing, charming even. But his newfound good mood was broken when his eyes met those of his mother, who was giving him a very disapproving stare. He sighed regretfully.

“My mother is watching us, I have to leave.”

“Im sorry if I got you in trouble.”

“No, don’t be. It will have been worth it.” And with that, another bow, and one final smile, he strode off to appease his mother. His trip back to the estate was occupied by her voice lecturing about the dangers of becoming involved with your family, but he devoted very little energy to fending her off. He was more concerned with mulling over your conversation. It really had been intriguing to him. Not only because you didn’t buy into all of this pettiness. You were a graceful and diplomatic young woman, and yet you were so genuine with him. He hadn’t fully decided how to deal with all of this. Pursuing you was a dangerous move if he wanted to maintain any family ties, but his resolve to please his mother was growing less and less by the hour the more he thought of you.

Ep 21. Fun at the Oak Park Mall (groupfic) (TRIXYA) ~ Mistress

A/N: I’ve been working on one chapter of YV for days and I don’t wanna anymore so I’m putting my efforts into MPGiS. Finale is coming up and after that idk. I kinda wanna do the next season but it’s s intricate and like… hard. Also guys… I’m a high school graduate now. Diploma and everything… weird.

Summary: The Assyousucks and Overboard Park girls have another run in at the Oak Park Mall. Tensions rise and claws come out. Also, some trixya smut for your troubles. Nearly 4k

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Requested by fabulouspotatosister: Sweetheart, request as much as you want. They’re fun for me to write, and I like filling requests for people. It makes me feel fuzzy inside when I see the happy reblog.

“We did it!”

Sometimes the Doctor was just a little bit too cheery. Although, in this case, he was perfectly justified. You did just escape death-by-exploding-TARDIS, after all, and that was worth being cheerful for.

“Yeah,” you breathed, slumped against the control console. Man, that was a close one. That could have been bad. Very bad. Death-bad. “We did.”

What you had done, you weren’t sure, but the Doctor had told you to do it and the mauve alarm had stopped flashing and that shrill whistle was finally silent and the TARDIS wasn’t rocking back and forth anymore, so you could only assume that it had worked. And that you weren’t going to die, which was good.

The Doctor was at your side out of nowhere. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you assured him, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“C'mere,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug. “Shh, easy. It’s okay.”

“I just said I’m fine,” you muttered, but who were you to resist a hug from the Doctor? You gripped the fabric of his suit, not wanting to pull away. Every hug from the Doctor was something you treasured. If you were smart, you wouldn’t torture yourself with all this closeness, all this touching that would have been, from any human, rather suggestive of… something. Anything. Any possibility of a thing that was vaguely more-than-friendly-like. But no, of course this was not so with the Doctor. He couldn’t just-

Oh, who were you kidding? The Doctor was a romantic; he just wasn’t a romantic with you. And just so, you thought. He was, as some might put it, “way out of your league.” And you knew it. So you wouldn’t sulk like a little girl. No. You would sulk like a grown woman, staying up until the crack of dawn with your favorite food and a good movie and some stolen hugs from the Doctor.

“If you say so,” the Doctor finally conceded. “How about we stay in tonight, huh? I think that was more than enough near-death experience for one evening.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. Well, it was time for a shower. Or a bath. And a nap. That had been an exhausting experience. Or, well, if you were going to make this a indulge-myself-because-I-nearly-died therapy session, why not take a nap in a bath? The TARDIS would keep the water fresh and warm and it wasn’t like anyone was going to care if you got pruny. Oh, yes. This was a good idea. There was only one obstacle between you and a therapy bath that potentially could include bubbles.

The Doctor wasn’t letting go.

“Mm… Doctor?”

“Oh!” The Doctor took a few steps back from you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” you said, and in a desperate attempt to make sure he hadn’t gotten the wrong idea, you said, “I like hugs.”

Well, dumber things had come out of your mouth before, but the Doctor was either oblivious or was kindly ignoring the blurb of awkward that had just slipped out of your mouth.

“Um… well, y'see, the thing is…” The Doctor was doing that eye thing, where he would look at you a bit sideways and squint. It always made him look a bit guilty, although the expression was actually a sign of anxiousness, you were discovering. He scratched the back of his neck, another anxious habit, and you were immediately on alert. "You’re brilliant, you know that?“

"You might have mentioned it once or twice.” He had. It was like his catchphrase. Save the Earth? You’re brilliant! Talk to aliens without being weirded out? You’re brilliant! Give him a banana? You’re brilliant! But then again, you tried not to take anything the Doctor said too seriously. He had once been in the habit of calling you foolish girl and stupid ape, so you knew his words, even the complimentary ones, were to be taken with a grain of salt.

“No, I mean, really brilliant,” the Doctor insisted. “I mean, we do this stuff, all the time, nearly dying, and sometimes you lose your cool but you never give up. And regeneration! You stuck through regeneration and just accepted that I’m still me even though I’m nothing like old me was, and nobody does that!”

Ah. The Regeneration Incident. That had been a lot of fun. You wondered if this was finally the day when you would look back on that event and laugh off how traumatizing it had been for everyone involved, but the Doctor didn’t look to be in the laughing mood. And, he wasn’t done.

The Doctor was swaying back and forth on his feet, scuffing his trainers and running his hands through his hair. You leaned back a little bit, confused. He should be relaxed, not stressed out. You had just successfully survived. What was his problem?

“Do you know that I watch you?”

… Well. That was a new one. “Um…”

“I do,” he said, working his jaw. “I watch you. I know humans get a bit freaked out by that, but it’s a Gallifreyan thing. We watch time, we watch the universe, we watch… important things. I watch you ‘cause I can’t not watch you. Because you’re in my brain, all the time. I’m afraid of lettin’ my gob run without checkin’ it, 'cause I know that if I’m not careful, I’m gonna mention you every other sentence. That’s crazy!” He wildly threw his arms up in the air to emphasize his point, but you thought the way his hair was defying gravity was probably a better illustration. Wait, no, it was time to be serious. The Doctor was being serious. Leave the hair alone. Do not fantasize about ruffling. “That’s absolutely crazy! Loco, bonkers, off my rocker! My big, superior, Time Lord brain, and all I can think about is…”

There were a lot of directions this could be going in, but you had half an idea that it was going somewhere emotionally dangerous. “Is..?”

The Doctor stepped close to you, so close that you thought that he was going for another hug, but his hands -his manly, hairy hands that he was so proud of- reached up to cup your face. He leaned down so that his forehead nearly bumped yours.

“You fill my head,” he said in a hushed, reverent tone, and you noted that his breath smelled like banana and cinnamon. That, of course, before you realized exactly what it was that he said. Your heart stuttered at the implication. "I hate going on adventures without you. I want to show you everything, I want to know what you think; I want to have you be with me, always. Forever. Because you were my best mate, and you still are, but you’re so much more than that and you’re amazing and brilliant and if I ever lose you I don’t think I’ll… I just… I want… Please.“

"I…” What were you supposed to say? I love you? No, you couldn’t say that! No, no, no-no-no. Your mind went to Red Alert when you realized that the Doctor was waiting for some sort of response and you were so without a proper answer that you were learning the true meaning of the phrase 'tongue like lead.’

Wait, what was he doing? He was pulling away!

The disappointment and hurt in his eyes was like a punch in the gut.

“It’s alright,” he said with a weak, thin smile that lied, lied, lied, filthy lying liar who lies. “I didn’t expect you to feel the same-”

It was only two seconds. Maybe just one. But in those two-seconds-maybe-one, your experienced what the Doctor might have identified as some sort of Time Sense. You saw your life, from this point on, without the Doctor. It wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was quite pleasant. You were married, successful in a career that you enjoyed, and surrounded by friends you would gain over the years. But then you imagined life with the Doctor. It was wild, and a bit scary, and there were certainly no mortgages or commuting to work. But you had a key to the TARDIS, and the Doctor looked at you like you held the universe, and there were no boundaries. No walls or fences. And you were so, so happy. With him.

And that only took a second or two. He had dropped his hands from your face and was pulling away, but oh no. That was not gonna happen, not if you had anything to say about it.

You reached out, grabbed the straying Doctor by the collar of his coat (the tie had been tempting but not within reach), and yanked him back to you. Forget whether or not it was in your nature, forget whether or not you were the sort to make life-changing decisions in a split-second, and please, forget caution! Throw it to the wind! Because you were not letting him get away. Not this time, and not because you were too silent to tell him-

“I love you.”

Your imagination realized that it made an error in its prediction of the future and corrected this mistake by adding kissing to the 'stay and love the Doctor forever’ scenario. Lots and lots of kissing. Because the Doctor was good, which was saying something, considering that he was practically attacking your mouth with his mouth. Points for the noises, though. He was whimpering, and you were quite sure that it was the most adorable, desperate sound you had ever heard.

“You mean it?” he panted into your mouth when your mouths finally broke contact, sounding far to close to heartbroken. “Really?”

“I do,” you answered, your bottom lip brushing against his. “More than anything.”

He would say it back to you later. You knew he would. In the meantime, he was going to enthusiastically teach you about all the different types of kisses in the universe. There was, apparently, a whole book about that particular subject. And he had been reading a lot lately.


“Come on, Balthazar. Don’t be a dick.” Dean grumbled, his hands clenching up into fists. “Cas won’t help us; you’re the only one who can.”

Balthazar crossed his arms, a smug smirk lining his lips. With an arch of an eyebrow, the angel slowly started walking toward you, Dean, and Sam. “Why should I? Nothing ever has gone my way whenever I lend you a helping hand. What’s so different this time?”

Sam sighed softly and glanced sideways at you, his eyebrows squinting together and his lips forming a straight line. Dean looked at you, as well, though a lot more discreetly before looking back at Balthazar. You rolled your eyes and looked down. You knew what those looks meant; for you to talk to Balthazar. The angel has never said no to you. The only reason why he helped as much as he did was because you were in danger.

You stepped forward and tilted your head, not fearing to keep back your puppy-dog eyes. “So you won’t help us?” You asked in a small voice.

Balthazar’s eyes narrowed on you, and you saw his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed. His features grew slightly softer than when he was looked at Dean. His head gave a small tilt to match yours. “Of course I want to help you.” He stated, then looked at Sam and Dean. “It’s them I’m not so happy to help.”

Dean frowned and looked at Sam, who’s eyebrow was arched in offense. You looked back at the brothers with an apologetic shrug, then rested your gaze on Balthazar once more. “It’s mostly for me.” You replied with a small smile.

The angel sighed and looked around the room, his hands rested behind his back boredly. “Fine. I’ll help. But only because Y/N asked me; not you two.” And with that, Balthazar vanished, leaving you smiling at Sam and Dean’s offended looks.

basilton, with an s

i realised a few minutes ago that i’ve never written a coffeeshop au before.

so this was inevitable i suppose.

(also it’s almost 4am. why do i do this.) (makeshalinasleep2k16)

Bazilton Pitch.

“That’s not even how you spell my name,” Baz says, making a face. He points at the messily scrawled z, squashed between the other oversized letters that are spread out across the cup’s blank surface. “It’s an s. Not a z.”

“But it’s Baz,” Simon says, across from him. They’re sitting at one of the small, round tables pushed into a corner of the coffee shop. Simon still has his apron on from when he left the relatively un-hectic counter to his coworker earlier, and the most adorable, confused smile lifts the corners of his lips as he regards his own handwriting on Baz’s cup. His hair has turned to gold from the sun coming in through the window. “Baz with a z.”

“That’s my nickname,” Baz says, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you to call me that the first time, given you some time to learn my actual name.

“It’s not my fault your actual name is weird as hell.”

Baz feigns a hurt look. “I am offended.”

“Hi, offended. I’m Simon.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Not now. I’m at work.”

Baz squeezes his eyes shut and ducks his head. He hears Simon laughing quietly, and then a soft, warm hand envelops his around the cup. His heart beats faster.



“Why did you come here today?”

Baz looks up at Simon. Simon’s eyes are very, very blue. “Um - I’ve been coming here for the past six months?”

“Yes, but why today?” Simon leans in, closer. Baz’s eyes unwittingly drop to his mouth. (It’s an incredibly lovely mouth - the kind you can’t help but imagine being pressed against your own.) (Or maybe that’s just Baz?) (Surely not.) Simon nudges Baz’s knee with his own, under the table. “You have violin class today, don’t you?”

“I skipped.”

Fine golden eyebrows shoot upwards in disbelief. (Baz finds even Simon’s eyebrows attractive.) “You skipped class?” Simon asks, shaking his head as if to right the world into its proper position. “Are you sure you’re Baz Pitch?” 

And then, squinting suspiciously, he shifts sideways in his seat and makes a big show of looking behind Baz’s back. For what, Baz doesn’t know.

Baz shakes his head a little, trying to quell the smile that threatens to take over his lips. “What are you doing.”

“Searching for the goblin who’s possessed you.”

“There’s definitely some illogical flaw in there somewhere, but I’m not going to talk about that right now.”

Simon’s grin is back, wide and playful. It makes Baz’s heart stutter. “Why? I was just about to launch into my theory on the existence of supernatural beings on Earth.”

Baz says, “I came here today to ask you out.”

And Simon blinks. Baz’s whole world is blue and more blue. “Ask me out?” Simon repeats.

“As my boyfriend.”


“Yeah.” Baz doesn’t look away from him, though it’s hard not to. Simon’s hand is still around Baz’s around the cup. His grip hasn’t loosened or anything, so that’s probably a good sign.

“Well,” Simon says, slowly. “Where are you taking me?”

Is that a yes? Baz’s head screams. 

“London,” he says. “Tonight, if you’re free.”



“Yeah,” Simon says, biting his lip. “I’m free.”

“… Okay.”

Everything is hazy and golden and unreal in comparison to Simon’s eyes in front of his, the watercolour-blue suddenly obscured when his eyelashes dip. Simon moves his head so their noses brush and their lips don’t, not quite. Baz didn’t know human hearts could beat this fast, let alone his own human heart. 

Simon smiles, and says, “I’ll be your boyfriend, Basilton with an s.”