it is too damn cold out for this bullshit

Evanesce of Ruin | M

“We can finally be together, now.” His happy tone was soft, lowered even, inching closer to you while resting his hand on your thigh.

Originally posted by snugglysoju

Précis; Love or lust, a mystery to all; and a broken meaning to one.

Note: Inspo from my best friend’s experience! *cries* I’m a horrible person lmao | Words ➳ 8.8k

Genre & Warnings: Angst & a sprinkle of fluff. Smut.


Like an ocean’s wave rolling onto the sand as they both intermingled before the water came crashing back to it’s home, is something that heavily contradicted within your life.

Broken words, fruitless promises and a devotional mirage painted with deception behind a thin foggy layer was something you didn’t even bother to acknowledge; only believing in the words he muttered to you while he kept you in his arms, only thinking positively and never even giving a second thought on how cruel the world could actually be when it had your feelings on the palm of it’s hand.

And here you were, dropping your bag on the floor of your apartment while releasing a sigh of relief, only ever wanting to sink into the confines of your bed with your lovely boyfriend by your side. It was past midnight, and you could only yawn as you walked down the hallway of your home, soon hearing persistent soft tapping against the walls from inside your bedroom. Frowning, you began to walk faster down the hallway, wondering why your roommate had the audacity to bring someone into your room to fuck on your bed..or whatever they were doing.

Once you reached the bedroom door, you had imagined ripping the door knob off and blasting it open, only for your hand to hover over it. Your heart sank, the voices muffled behind the other side of the door surely not sounding like your roommate at all; and you could only imagine what could be on the other side. But it was impossible, right? It had to be someone else, you wanted it to be someone else but the worry began to overwhelm you and before you knew it, the anticipation crawling throughout your skin turned the doorknob before you softly pushed the door open.

Peeking inside, you could only see the alabaster glow from the moon seep through the sheer curtains, illuminating the shimmery bodies intermingling with one another. Legs spread open before him, his head stretched all the way back while laying against the headboard with shut eyes as his mouth was opened, breathy moans swimming past his lips. He held onto her waist tightly as she bounced on his lap, her breasts ricocheting within the air as one of his hands quickly reached for one before he would smother it in his hands as if it were silly putty.

She was vocal, that was a fact that was implicated into the air and your bed was moving slightly from the conspicuous licentious commotion happening upon it’s fluffy tousled blankets and tangled sheets. Breath caught in your throat, you felt tears beginning to overcloud your vision but you willed them away; quickly reaching for the light switch before you were all blinded by the luminous glare.

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After The Fact

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Fat Gum (Brief)

Other Tags: Set immediately after the current arc, Hurt Kirishima (Physical and Emotional), Bakugou Doesn’t Know How To Handle Emotions, Hurt/Comfort

(A note: You know, the adults in this world are incredibly irresponsible. Letting fifteen year old newbie heroes-in-training participate in this kind of rescue, resulting in at least one of them getting beaten within an inch of his life…)

Read on Ao3 here

— — — —

They come back late at night. 

Two days. They’d been gone for two days: Uraraka, Tsuyu, Deku. A couple of upper classmen, too. Aizawa-sensei. 

Kirishima. 

The class did not know the details beyond this: their classmates were helping the pro heroes. They would not be updated any further. It was a murmur of excitement, some jealousy — “Man,” Kaminari laments, “Kirishima’s been getting all the fame, huh?” So much for having a weak, style-less quirk. Kirishima didn’t need flashy: he was strong as hell on his own. 

So was, apparently, Deku. Enough that they, fucking freshmen heroes in training, were chosen to go on a mission with pros. That should have been Bakugou. The upperclassmen make sense. Aizawa, too, and hell he can even respect Uraraka and Kirishima and Tsuyu being there cause, yeah, they’re pretty damn good at what they do.

But Deku. 

He doesn’t know what to think about Deku any longer. There’s this knee-jerk disgust and need to snarl and bite and tear into him and reduce him to bloody shreds because how the fuck is Deku there but not Bakugou. 

But that’s not what matters right now. 

A quarter before one in the morning, Bakugou gets out of bed. He knows that the teachers are alerted when the doors open past curfew, but hell if he’s going to let that stop him. Those fuckers are back — he knows because he saw them clambering out of a truck together, and he can recognize Deku’s obnoxious fucking hair from a mile away. 

No one comes to stop him, anyway. They must be too damn busy giving a hero’s welcome to bother with some kid sneaking out late at night. Bakugou sneers. He’d going to find out what’s going on if he has to beat it out of Kirishima. The asshole had his lips sealed tight up until he fucked off for the last two days. Didn’t even say a god damn word. 

Outside, it’s cold. The air is still. He should have brought a jacket, but it’s too late now, so Bakugou trudges onwards in nothing but his shoes and pajamas towards the front of the school. There are voices, low, impossible to make out their words, but enough to tell him the majority of the faculty is up. Something big had happened. 

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I Like You

Happy denial-riddled month of mourning!! I hope you enjoy this. Please tell me what you think at @potting-lilies :)

-

Rubbing her eyes with the back of an ink-stained hand, Lily Evans yawned. Her fingers were cramping and she was long past being able to feel her butt, but the end was so close. So close. If she took a break now, she knew she’d-

Bloody fucking-”

James Potter sighed, dropping his head with a dull thud onto the cold wooden floor.

“Look, James. Maybe if we moved back to the desks-”

“Bollocks. No.”

“You haven’t got anything down since-”

“ARSE.”

“Mmmmm.” Lily yawned again.

“This is bullshit. I’m telling Flitwick to change the due date of this damn essay. It’s not our ruddy fault we all got the flu last week.”

“Isn’t it though? Who went out naked in the cold last week, and coughed everything onto me? I swear we do way too much spit-exchanging for two people who don’t go out.”

“It was Sirius!” James cried indignantly. “He dared me to, and you know I haven’t turned those down since second year!”

Lily hacked a cough that sounded suspiciously like child.

“Anyways. Flitwick can’t do this to us. I’ll just go to his office in the morning and-”

“You will do no such thing.”

James glared at her. “Just because you’re the head girl-”

“And you’re head boy, idiot.” Lily smirked. “You set his hair on fire last week, remember? I’ll ask.”

James raised his brows. “Alright.”

Lily smiled weakly, forcing her drooping eyes open. Stifling yet another yawn, she squinted at the clock.

“Thirty more minutes and we’re definitely going to bed.”

James grunted in agreement, wrinkling his nose to hold his slipping glasses in place as he scratched into his parchment.

-

Cramming one last word into the bottom corner of his parchment, James sighed. Groaning, he rolled his head once clockwise, and then once anti-clockwise, hearing with satisfaction the cracks in his ridiculously stiff neck.

“One more page and I’m done.” He sighed. “Where are you up to, Lils?”

Silence.

James carefully rested his quill beside his blotchy parchment and looked up.

“Lily?”

Lily was sprawled out on the floor, her red hair glowing in the firelight as it fanned across the carpet. Her chest rose and fell gently as she softly snored, making the soft curls on her cheeks lightly flutter.

This girl had the most ridiculous hair. James could remember, pre-friendship, when he used to tug on her hair from behind and make crude jokes about Medusa. And anacondas. And his anaconda. He’d rather not remember the details.

He’d always liked her, he reckoned. Ever since he met her on that train, even though she was friends with Snivellus. He didn’t stop liking her through the countless times she told him she hated him, or when she stopped him from pulling that one fateful prank. Now, in seventh year, they were friends, heads, and just friends. It was better, he reasoned, to be her friend than nothing at all, but still.

With a clatter, Lily’s quill fell out of her hand. Rolling his eyes, James sat up.

“Come on, Lils. Let’s go upstairs.”

No reply.

“Lils. Lily?”

“Hmmmmmm?” Lily rolled her face to him, but did not open her eyes.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. I’ll carry you up, shall I?”

“Hmmmmmm.” Lily smiled softly, her eyes still closed.

Snorting under his breath, James stood up. Bloody typical of Evans, working hard until she collapsed. No wonder she always got so annoyed with his half-arsed attitude, furrowing her brows in that cute little way of hers as she told him to get it together.

Bending down, James gently lifted Lily into his arms. She was surprisingly light. As he couldn’t go up the stairs to the girls’ rooms himself, he had no choice but to take her up to his room. Right?

Steadily ignoring the forehead nudging at his neck, James carried her up. Reaching his bed, he quietly laid her down. Brushing her hair from her face, James sighed. He’d have to sleep on the floor tonight.

As he turned to get some spare blankets from the wardrobe, a small hand closed around his wrist. James froze.

Turning around, he sat on the bed next to her. “What?”

Eyes still closed, Lily smiled, her lips soft with sleep. “I like you.”

James froze. “What?”

Lily sighed softly, turning her face away. After a moment, her breathing settled back to a slow, steady rhythm. She was asleep.

James didn’t mind. It might not be today, but someday he’ll get her to admit that she likes him too. For now, this small moment seemed good enough for him.

Standing up, he gently pried his wrist away.

On second thought, he added, “I like you too.”

The closed curtains around the next bed rustled. James froze, then held his breath, bracing himself.

Hah,” He heard Sirius whisper. “laaaaaaame.

“Don’t Shy Away” Daryl Dixon x Reader

Words: 3,276

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Request: Can you do a version of Innocence but with Daryl? Maybe she’s shy and timid but as soon as she sees him get all riled up she goes all kinky?

SUMMARY: You’re Rick’s daughter and a very shy and timid person, but when you and Daryl finally get together, he discovers how not shy you can be.

Warnings: Language, slight self-deprecating thoughts, a lot of plot, slow burn, dirty thoughts, sexual tension, alcohol use, fluff, loss of virginity, smut, hair pulling kink, hickies, unprotected sex

Originally posted by ella-alice1990


 “Mornin’.” Your dad, Rick, says to you as you walk down the stairs of your new house in Alexandria. Your entire group had only arrived there a few days prior, and you’re still adjusting to the new lifestyle.

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anonymous asked:

CAN I PLS HAVE A SCENARIO WHEN THE RFA (+SAERAN AND V) SAY SOMETHIMG MEAN AND SNAP AT MC AND THEY'RE REACTIONS AFTER AND HOW THEY WOULD MAKE IT UP???

Okay so I got hit with some serious inspiration for Jumin’s and Zen’s and Saeran (who deserves all the love in the world) I prob could’ve made those fics 😂. Anger/make up scenarios? MY THING (who’s projecting I’m not projecting). Hope you like it!

——-

Jumin
- your husband has the work drive of a damn horse
- he’ll go until he drops
- you folded the paper you’d gotten from the doctor earlier that day, your hands shaking you were so nervous
- you slid into his home office, the scratch of pen on paper the only sound in the room
- “hey babe, can I get-”
- “Not now.”
- “but Jumin this is-”
- “I’m sure it’s not as important as this paperwork so NOT. NOW!”
- you looked at him in shock for a few silent seconds, the paper feeling like lead weights in your hand
- not important
- you slide the paper onto the edge of his desk and walk out before the tears start
- not important
- tears streaming down your face you head to the bathroom and empty your stomach until you’re just dry heaving
- your baby WASN’T IMPORTANT
- you brush your teeth and throw on the first nightgown you touch, crawling into the too cold bed by yourself
- meanwhile Mr. Sasspants continues his paperwork
- he looks at the clock on his desk, realizing it had gotten far later than he originally thought
- his gaze snapped to the paper you had put on his desk earlier, remorse washing over him
- he really shouldn’t have yelled at you
- Jumin reached across and before he had finished reading he was running out of the office, paperwork forgotten
- he flew into the bedroom, only to find you sobbing into a pillow
- he gently takes you into his lap, stroking your hair and crying, telling you how sorry he is and how happy you’ve made him
- he can’t stop touching your belly and kissing you
- the salt from your tears mixes into his mouth, effectively crushing his heart
- you look at him through your lashes
-“I know how you can make it up to me”
- he gives you everything you want, licking at your heat until you’re sure your legs have turned to jelly
- he doesn’t fuck you tonight he “makes love”
- you don’t leave bed until noon two days later

Zen
- also obsessed with work
- after locking up your apartment you head down the stairs only to trip over a cat at the top
- when you come to a stop you know your arm is broken
- like bent at the wrong angle broken
- after screaming in pain a neighbor comes out and calls for help
- a few hours later at the hospital your arm is in a cast and sling, and the cut on the side of your head you hadn’t noticed is bandaged up
- instead of going to the set today you decide it’s a good idea to just go home
- you pull out your phone and call Zen
-“Hey babe what’s up?”
-“Zen! Um, I won’t be coming to the set today, I-”
-“Okay babe! Talk to you later!”
-“Wait, Zen, I-”
- he hung up
- what the hell
- you sat there fuming for a few minutes until your cab showed up to take you home
- this many stairs should be a crime
- by the time you get into your apartment tears are leaking down your face and everything hurts
- you shoot Zen a text that says “come over after work please?” And promptly pass out into bed
- when you wake up it’s to knocks on the door
- there he is, Prince not-so-Charming in the flesh
- you think his eyes are going to pop out of his head
- “What the hell happened?! And why didn’t you tell me?!”
- pulls you into a hug and curls inward when you let him know you DID try to tell him and his highness HUNG UP ON YOU
- you make up over dinner (and a few beers) before falling into bed
- he makes that night all about you, until you clench your teeth and tell him to just GET ON WITH IT ALREADY
-damn that’s hot
- sex with a cast is slightly (very) annoying but he goes easy on you
- you fall asleep hurting but blissed out

707
- Seven hadn’t slept in days
- hacking away on his computer, he had gotten up once to shower and put on new pants and that was it
- cold showers wake him up but damn they suck
- you walked in the doorway, a fresh can of Dr Pepper in your hand
- he didn’t even look up as you set it beside him
-“Saeyoung I think you should take a break you’re pushing yourself too -”
-“I don’t have time for the lecture bullshit so can you just go?”
- you snapped your mouth closed and dumped the can of pop over his head, walking out before he could pick his jaw up off the floor
- he looked back to his computer, weighing his options
-“fuck it”
- he flipped the monitor off and sprinted after you
- the bedroom was locked so he ended up apologizing to you through the door
- when you finally let him in his eyes were bloodshot and his face was wet
- grumpy man child
- you pulled off his jacket and helped him get undressed for bed
- not quite for bed because as soon as he hit the mattress he pulled you with him, his hot breath mingling with yours as he slipped his tongue in your mouth
- you had nice, lazy sex before he passed out from exhaustion

Yoosung
- he was supposed to have been home hours ago, just meeting with a local study group
- you’d called his phone a couple times but it was either dead or off
- it had been a shit day and instead of worrying about Yoosung (even though you were don’t even lie) you decided to go to bed
- you slept like garbage, tossing and turning until he stumbled in drunk at 2 a.m.
-you threw a blanket at him and locked the bedroom door
- he didn’t even knock before he passed out on the couch
- you were pissed when you woke up the next day until you walked into the kitchen and saw roses, breakfast, and a very sorry Yoosung
-there were serious puppy dog eyes going on
- you pretended to be mad for a few extra minutes, and you ordered him around some
- he didn’t realize you weren’t angry with him until you had him naked and strapped down to the bed
- his eyes flew wide when you sat yourself on his length and rode him until you were both screaming for release
- he skipped classes that day

V
- today had been the last straw for you
- he had ACTUALLY compared you to Rika
- so no one was very surprised when tears filled your eyes and you sprinted from the restaurant
- Jaehee adjusted her glasses and told him he was an imbecile while the rest of the guys just stared at him
-“I suppose I should go after her”
- everyone was like what the fuck???? Yes you should go after her!!!!
- by the time he made it home you were in the shower, crying into the water
- he climbed in with you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your wet hair
-“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. You are the moon of my life, you know that?”
- you cried even harder
- he turned you around and kissed your mouth, trying to hold his erection away from your body
- you were hurting, but this felt so right
- you knew she had left so many scars on this wonderful man and it was just as hard on him as it was you when she was brought up
- if you ever saw her you’d carve out her heart
- you roughly pulled his hips toward you, slipping your tongue into his mouth
-he might have a hard time seeing but he knew what you wanted
- he held you up and fucked you against the wall of the shower, moaning about how much he loved you while you came undone
- he didn’t compare you to her again

Saeran
- when you’d agreed to be his assistant he had never considered the possibility of falling in love with you
- he had planned on using you then throwing you away when you were no longer useful
- but here he was, face stinging from the slap you’d just delivered across his face and his heart being crushed by the tears in your eyes
- he hadn’t meant to say he didn’t love you
- he hadn’t meant to shove your past in your face and tell you that NO ONE could love you
- he watched you walk from the office, not having enough wits about him to think about following you
- until a few hours later and he realized you were nowhere to be found
- he checked the cameras from earlier and watched your hunched shoulders disappear into the forest
- what the hell it’s almost nighttime she’ll get lost
- he followed the trail you left until he came upon you in a clearing, humming a slow song as you wiped the tears leaking from your eyes
- shit shit shit
- he was in over his damn head
- your head whipped around when he walked into the clearing, the blanket underneath you bunching up
- he sat down beside you and sighed before starting in on a story he’d never told you
- his
- when his throat was raw from talking he looked over at you, expecting to see disgust in your eyes
- all he found was acceptance and camaraderie, and unexpectedly, love
- he brought his face towards you and stopped right before his lips touched yours
- “I’m sorry about earlier…I was wrong, and I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
- he expected you to walk away but you never stopped surprising him
- you brought your mouth to his in a searing kiss
- his soul may have left his body
- he pushed you back onto the blanket, and finally did what he’d been promising himself he would never do again
- he put his faith and hope and love into the hands of another person
- you made love on that blanket under the stars and he had never felt so complete as when he moved inside you and you called out his name
- you walked back to the house hand in hand

Finn’s eyes snap open suddenly and he doesn’t know where he is, but he’s cold, and he’s afraid, and the last thing he remembers is the snow and the wind and Starkiller Base.

With a lump in his throat he asks, “Captain?” because of course she’s there, because she’s always there, because of course his brief freedom was a fluke.

“Major, actually,” a woman says to him, and he turns to see her perched on the opposite cot, her ankles crossed in front of her. She sniffs. “And don’t you forget it.”

He thinks he might recognize her from the Resistance base and that secures it, he’s still there, they brought him back and they took him in and he’s safe, he’s away from the First Order. “I’m sorry,” he stumbles, trying to sit up. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“At ease, bigshot,” she says. “And don’t call me ma’am. ‘Ma’am’ is my mother. You can call me Dr. Kalonia.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Dr. Kalonia.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she assures him. “Like I said, I’m Dr. Kalonia and I’ve been treating you, Finn. Do you remember what happened?”

Starkiller. The slash of the three-pronged lightsaber. Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren is superior to all of us and we are grateful for his passionate leadership. If he says jump, you jump. If he says shoot, you shoot. If he says—“Yes, I remember,” Finn coughs, shaking his head a little. Every bit of him feels sore. “I was… my back.”

“Really did a number on it,” she says. “You’ve been in here for about three weeks now.” She’s got gray in her hair and a kind face. She reminds Finn of middle-aged mothers he’s seen in villages. His stomach lurches when he thinks about what happened to those middle-aged mothers. “We’re going to keep you here until tonight just to make sure you’re doing alright, and then we’ll move you into your own quarters. But, ah, you’ll still be reporting here for physical therapy, of course.”

No one will carry you if you cannot carry yourself. You are granted your will and your legs only by the grace of the First Order. If you are broken, FN-2187, there will be no fixing you, and you will be terminated. “Okay,” Finn says, trying to shake old ghosts out of his head. “Physical therapy. Okay.”

“Nothing scary,” she promises. “We’ll start out with something easy.” As she stands, she places a hand on his shoulder and smirks. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to dance.”

Finn’s alone all day— he doesn’t know why, but guesses no one feels the need to visit him, which makes sense. They give him a tablet and he occupies himself by memorizing maps of the Resistance base. If you don’t know your way around you will be left behind. You will be forgotten. You are inconsequential.

A nurse helps him to the bathroom at one point and he takes the opportunity to splash water on his face. He shudders, hands gripping the sides of the sink basin. He hears Phasma’s commanding voice in his head like an echo that never ends. He feels like he’s been running on adrenaline since escaping the First Order and now it’s all catching up with him, he’s sliding back into who he was. A puppet, a soldier. FN-2187.

“Finn,” he whispers, looking at himself in the scratched mirror. “Finn.”

The hours pass, sunlight fading from the one window in the medbay, and by nightfall Kalonia returns. “Ready to bust out of here, bigshot?” she asks, sinking onto the cot beside him. She holds out a tablet and stylus. “Just sign the dotted line and you’re free to go.”

Finn takes the tablet and scans the text on it. It all kind of blurs together— that he’s satisfied with his care, that he feels fit to leave. He doesn’t know what will happen if he refuses to sign and he doesn’t want to find out, so he writes his name quickly without thinking— and stares down at his hastily scrawled FN-2187.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, words tripping over themselves. “I didn’t mean to— that’s not my name. I— I’m Finn. I did it wrong. I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she assures him, taking the tablet quickly and hitting CLEAR RESPONSE. She hands it back to him. “Happens more than you think. One time I had a patient try to tell me he was Jabba the Hutt.”

Carefully, carefully, Finn signs his name. He hesitates. “I— I don’t have a last name.”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Kalonia says. “If you want to use one, you can use mine until you pick your own.” And she spells it out for him.

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So Glad We’ve Almost Made It

Long Way Down

AO3

Oliver, Diggle, and Roy go to bring Felicity home at last—and find far more than they bargained for.

Roy drove.

It was as much strategic distribution of tasks as it was preserving mission integrity. It allowed Oliver and Digg to run strategy during the journey, cover all details and contingencies over and over—but it also kept Oliver from blowing the entire op before they ever got there by getting them pulled over for excessive speeding.

As it was, it was all he could not to turn and snap at Roy to drive faster, damn it.

almost almost almost hurry hurry hurry

“Oliver, man.” Oliver snapped his head up as Digg reached across the bench seats in the back of the van to firmly tap his knee; Oliver frowned down at his right foot, grinding down on the floor like he was crushing a gas pedal beneath the sole of his boot. Diggle sighed, his eyes weary, mouth grim. “You have to remember she might not be there. Hell, if she is there, it’ll be a damn lucky miracle.”

Oliver clenched his jaw tight, jerking his head to the side to stare out the windshield, the whole world beyond his reach, outside the beam of the headlights unwinding the road ahead into the dark. “I know.”

But she might be.

But he couldn’t say it out loud.

Hoping for things was the fastest way to destroy them, in Oliver’s experience.

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         okay, i actually wanted to wait until i hit my fist year anniversary in the rp comm as a whole, but i forgot what month did i join in ( november ? december ? january ? i’m not sure lmao ) + i’m not that much of a patient person. either way, i want to blow a kiss at everyone who still sticks around with me, because damn, am i quite the rude sack of shit. and a damp bread, too. i’m not even sure what did i intend to write in here. this looks long only because i’m spitting out bullshit to make it look less half-assed. put that candy back i’m not buying you shit. i fucking hate valentines. is it long enough already? so yeah, let’s go with this.

           first and foremost, i want to thank three people that are special to my ice cold heart ; pokemon fucker, gay weeaboo and melon pan, aka @willprevail, @inbent & @dollboned. those are the people that keep me going & i hope this will last for as long as it possibly can ( + ron’s small little baby hands is what keeps me alive :^) )

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