its not who you are underneath but what you do that defines you

somebodylost-chan  asked:

I'd like to ask, how do you know when fight/smut scenes are necessary? Or how to make them effective & not simply as fanservice or just for word count? Usually, I find myself skimming through fight scenes as a reader, bored. As a writer, I'm inclined to just 'fade to black' and imply stuff at the next chapters. I'm not really a fight/smut-scene writer, even though my characters know & need to fight. Thanks for keeping this blog. :D

A good fight scene (and a good smut scene for that matter) always works in the service of the narrative. It works toward the cohesive big picture.

From an entertainment standpoint, violence is boring.

You need your audience invested in the characters participating in the violence, in the actions and events leading up to the fight, in the aftermath and how this will effect the character’s overall goals.

In a narrative context, if you’re bored during a fight scene or a sex scene it’s because the build up to that moment failed. The scene itself may also have failed. However, your foundation is what makes your story sing.

Think of a story like building blocks. You’re playing Jenga with your reader on a homemade house, they’re slowly pulling out the pieces and you’re betting you built your blocks well enough to withstand scrutiny. You’ve got to keep them interested long enough to get to the end before the whole thing comes tumbling down.

A fight sequence which works in concert with it’s narrative is enjoyable, doesn’t overstay it’s welcome, and ultimately works to build up the story it’s telling. Fighting isn’t fighting, you see. Combat is a form of problem solving, the fight itself is an expression of the character’s individuality. Everything we’ve been learning about them, their goals, and their behaviors are being put in a pressure cooker and dialed up.

You should be learning about the character as the fight progresses, the fight working on multiple levels in concert with its narrative to get the story where it needs to go. Often, a first fight is like an establishing shot in film. You get a feel for who this character is when under pressure, who they are. Peril can be a great way to get the audience invested, but its up to the author to prove why they should.

Poor fight sequences don’t tell you anything. They’re there to establish the character as capable of fighting but don’t even do that because their concept of combat is generic.

The combatants aren’t individuals expressing themselves, the fight isn’t proving anything except fighting, it doesn’t have meaning except for its attempts to prove the narrative’s poor concept of badassery. This often happens with no regard for the setting’s rules, the aftermath consequences, what the character’s actions will effect in the long run.

It doesn’t mean anything and, while violence is shocking and terrifying in real life, in fiction violence has to mean more than just an exchange of blows.

How many times have you read a book where several mooks show up to get their ass kicked by the protagonist? They limp off at the end and while they’re often in a perfect position to be seen again due to their connections, we never do.

In even just a moderately competent narrative, those same mooks are characters. We’ll see them again in bit roles. They’ll play a role, either to help or hurt later as an aftermath consequence of the protagonist’s earlier actions. These are callback characters we can use to remind the audience of what happened previously in the narrative, and offer up some catharsis.

In a really well written scene, these mooks serve an important purpose when it comes to establishing the protagonist’s character in a quick snapshot. Like the moderately competent character, they come back later to the aid or the detriment of the protagonist. The mooks’ response actions are a direct result of their encounter with the character, often acting as an inciting incident. The protagonist suffers direct consequences as a result of their actions, whether its injury, loss, or the attention of the villain which causes them to lose something. In these fight scenes, you can see the story’s trajectory because it acts as another way to get to know the hero, the secondary characters, the tertiary characters, and whoever else is participating. It’s working on five different levels.

What you often see in a good fight sequence, whether it’s in a written medium or film, is the culmination of a great deal of hard work on the part of the author. A smut sequence is a reward, it’s a way to pay off on the reader’s investment in the relationship between these two characters and the narrative’s investment in them. It doesn’t matter if that’s hardcore sex, or a Victorian hand touch, or a knockout blow to the jaw, the end result is the same. It’s entertaining, satisfying, and even cathartic.

A poor sex scene is just dolls bumping bits. A poor fight scene is just dolls trading blows. Nothing occurs, nothing happens, there’s none of the underlying satisfaction or catharsis in the outcome. You don’t have any investment, no consequences, it overstays its welcome and tells you nothing about the characters.

You’ve no reason to care, so you don’t.

As a reader, you don’t owe a writer attention when reading their work. They’ve got to earn it. If they aren’t, then it may be that the story isn’t for you and that’s okay. Take into account your tastes,

It takes practice to choreograph a fun fight scene. Writing sex and violence is mostly about learning to find your limits (i.e. what you’re comfortable with writing), and overcoming embarrassment. Determine the difference between need and want.

Are you avoiding writing these scenes because you’re scared of being bad at them or because they just don’t interest you?

These are two very different issues, and it’s easy to hide from the first behind the second. Be honest with yourself. If it is fear, then don’t give into it. The easy solution if you’re afraid of being bad at something is to practice. Start looking critically at the media you consume, when you start to get bored during a fight scene or a sex scene, when you want to skip ahead, ask yourself, “why?”. Check out the sequences and stories where this doesn’t happen, and try to figure out the differences between the two.

When it comes to the mechanics of both violence and sex, the more you learn the better off you’ll be at writing it. The more you practice writing violence/sex/romance then the better you’ll be. Like with everything, it’ll probably be pretty terrible in the beginning but the more you practice, the better you get. Writing itself is a skill, but its also a lot of sub-skills built in underneath the surface. Being good at dialogue doesn’t mean you’ll be good at action, having a knack for great characterization doesn’t mean you’ll be good at writing setting description. Putting together great characters doesn’t mean you’ll automatically be good at worldbuilding.

Don’t be too hard on yourself.

All it takes to figure out whether or not the time to fight is right is by listening to your gut.

Remember, the best scenes are based in narrative cohesion and emotional investment. They’re a pay off in and of themselves for your audience, dessert after dinner. They aren’t the meat and potatoes. If you set out to just write a fight scene or write a smut scene then it’ll get gratuitous. Then the focus is on the fight or the sex itself, hangs entirely on their shoulders, and you’ve just upped the ante for how entertaining you need to be.

It’s not “how do I write a fight scene”, it’s “how did my characters get to this point and why are they fighting”. If you start from a character place, it gets easier. The same is true with romance. “How do my characters participate in a romance (sex or not)”.

Make it about the individuals, that’s when it really gets fun.

And, if you get too stuck, try writing fight scenes with characters who don’t know much about how to fight. Sometimes, it’s easier to get into it when you begin at the beginning. There’s a lot less pressure convincing an audience with a character who knows nothing than one at the top of their field.

There’s a lot less stress about “is this right?” when you’re trying to get a feel for the flow if you’re dealing with a character who doesn’t know jack shit. Fight scenes with characters who know nothing can also be really, really, really fun. They’re wild, improvisational frenzies where all you have is the character sorting through their alternative, non-fighting skills trying to figure out how to survive.

Believe it or not, this will help you because you don’t get to cheat with the idea that your character already knows what they’re doing when you don’t. It’ll help you tap into the character, seeing scenarios from their perspectives, and writing to that instead of “generic fight scene”. When you’re unsure, characters who know nothing about the subject matter they’re engaging in but still have to engage are great. They teach you how to write from the standpoint and perspective of the individual. You need those skills just as much when writing characters who are professionals or at the top of their field.

If you don’t think you can write an interesting fight sequence with a neophyte, then that might be a part of the problem. A character doesn’t need to be good at something to be entertaining. A smut sequence where everyone’s fumbling, knocking into each other, embarrassed, stuck in their clothing, cheesy, corny, and laughing can be just as fun (if not more so and more honest) than the ones that generally get envisioned.

For me, good is entertaining and the entertainment is based in humanity but you need to define “good” for yourself in your own writing. Be honest with yourself about your fears and you’ll find a way to bridge yourself to the kind of writing you want to be doing.

Freeing yourself of your own internalized preconceived notions will help a lot, and produce stories that are way more fun.

-Michi

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Show Off (m)

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

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

“What kind of job?”

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

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

[cr.]

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

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 7k

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

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

Sub!BTS Collab


Keep reading

have you ever been in love? - reggie mantle

word count: 2.328 (oops)

warnings: swearing, i mention death like once

plot: a quiz about love makes reggie think about you

a/n: plot was inspired by this . i wanted to write something short and cute and now it’s 3am and i wrote this long ass thing


“Alright, class,” The teacher spoke up, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Hence today is Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d give you all a short, small quiz!”

The announcement was met with a collective groan.

“It’s not that kind of quiz.” The teacher began handing out papers, a smile on their face. “It’s about love and even though it won’t get graded, try to answer the question seriously, don’t joke around.”

Keep reading

Complice

Originally posted by apgujeon

Park Jimin. Hogwarts!au. 7k words. Fluff. 

↠ Unraveling the reasons to Park Jimin’s assortment into Slytherin.


Park Jimin, for lack of a better word, is magnetic. An eye catching grandeur. A brilliant meteor cutting through the dead of the night. A glitter of gold and silver. It is no exaggeration when you say you would find yourself singling him out of many other ground-swept robes, clicking heels, wand wielders. It’s not the hair, no –not the locks of fireplace or charcoal ashes, it isn’t also the distinct pitch weaving through buzzing chatters nor is it the recurring dark smoke filling the air at the back row in charms. Thinking of the reason alone sends a pang of melancholy through your veins as your mind tries to block out the patches of defiled memories almost instinctively. But the unavoidable fact of the matter is, Jimin was once your world.

Keep reading

What Do You Feel?

Who: Jughead Jones
Where: Riverdale

{Decided to try out a jug imagine}


Part One ||| Part Two 

[Y/N] had, had enough. She couldn’t stand the one-sided tension between herself and Jughead. She respected Jug enough to give him space and time for this novel of his. She was thrilled about his idea and fully stood by what he was trying to achieve. [Y/N] would always support Jughead in everything he did because she absolutely loved him for who he was. She would never dare try to change a single thing because that was what made Jughead, Jughead.

But, this summer and the beginning of the school year was driving her insane. She felt second best and despite knowing that Jug needed to invest as much time as he needed into this novel, she just couldn’t’ stand having one-sided conversations. [Y/N] needed to know if anything more was going to come out of their odd relationship.

Nothing was ever talked about what they were, it just sort of happened. It was known that [Y/N] was off limits to any boy in Riverdale and not that Jughead had a line of girls waiting for him but it was clear who had his attention. Even Archie and Betty never talked about it, it was just there. A relationship built without words. But, [Y/N] needed answers. She could deal with the little notions of affection Jug would throw in her direction. In fact, she loved it. She loved that Jughead would reach across the table and gently grab her hand and hold it while he reread paragraph after paragraph; running his thumb over the top of her hand while she worked on her homework or read a book. She especially loved it when he’d just look at her and cup her face and press his warm lips against hers. Or when he’d gently bump into her on their way to her house and swiftly fit her hand inside his. And even the moments when he’d finally put his laptop away and they’d binge watch horror movies and pull her into his chest.

No words. Just actions. And [Y/N] could live with that. But being blatantly ignored and feeling as if she was talking to a brick wall, just wasn’t cutting it. She couldn’t sleep at night thinking that everything she had tried to talk to Jughead about, he didn’t even hear. It was frustrating because she was a human being that wanted to talk out her feelings. Express her everlasting love she had for him and wanting to know if he felt the same.

“Jughead.”

The tone in her voice snapped Jug from his thoughts, tearing his eyes from his screen. His brows furled as he looked at her standing in the doorway of the Blue and Gold news room. “[Y/N]?”

Stepping inside, she flickered a look towards Betty who gave her a concerned look. [Y/N] was never stern, and it was odd that she sounded so. “Could you give us a minute, Betty?”

Betty nodded, ruffling around and gathering papers to sort through in another room. “Of course, [Y/N]. Um, I’ll be back later.” Zipping by her friend, she exited the room.

“We need to talk.” [Y/N] said with the same tone as before, she was fidgeting with her fingers, trying to figure out her next words. It was now or never.

Jughead chose to ignore her strange behavior, “I really can’t, I’m finishing up the last few pages of this chapter.” Turning his focus back onto his laptop, his fingers started typing away. “You understand.” He spoke quickly before diving back into it.

An irritated sigh came from her lips as she turned around and shut the door. Slamming it loud enough to catch Jughead’s attention again. Turning to face him, she crossed her arms across her chest. “That’s the thing, Jug. Your novel is exactly what I want to talk about.”

Sensing that [Y/N] was as serious as her tone, he turned in his chair to face her. Nodding, he motioned towards the air. “Okay, shoot.”

“Am I second best to it?” She asked, her voice faltering a little. Her eyes were drilling into his, glossed over from feeling the emotion building inside her.

“What? No.” His eyes squinted, slightly shocked she asked. “What does that even mean, [Y/N]?”

“Second best, Jughead. Am I a less adequate, less desirable alternative?”

“Why would even ask me that, [Y/N]?”

Tears were brimming her eyes, taking a deep breath, she walked over towards him. Pulling a chair right in front of him. She sat down, her heart sinking further into her chest. Afraid to venture into this conversation. “Jughead, I love this novel of yours. I think it’s great, and if anyone is going to write about this town, it’s you. No one else could ever pull it off like you will.” Pressing her lips together, she looked up at the cracked ceiling. “But, it seems like that’s all you ever do. We used to talk to Jug. Talk all night about everything and anything. And when we would, I forgot where I was for the moment. All that mattered was that you and I were together. And that one day we would leave this town together and embark on this adventure away from Riverdale. But, I feel like you don’t feel the same.”

Jughead took in her words, analyzing them in his head. Taking in her hurt tone and trying to understand them. Was he invested in his novel, of course. Did he want to make [Y/N] feel like she was second best? Absolutely not. As much as he was a fluid with his words on paper, speaking them out loud was a different story. Jughead wasn’t normally one to shy away from voicing his opinion or putting his two sense in something he shouldn’t. But when it came to [Y/N], she took the literal words straight from his mouth and put them in a blender. He could never express what he felt other than by just showing her what she meant to him.

“Can you say something, Jug?”

Biting his lip, he looked down at his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say, [Nickname].”

Sucking in hair, she ran both hands through her hair. “I want you tell me what you feel, Jug. I want to know what you truly think of me. If I’m just crazy and think what we have is more than what it really is. You write so beautifully, Jughead. I’ve read your stuff and for someone who’s so elegantly articulate, you never use them with me. I want you to use your words, Jug.” Her voice was breaking and it pained Jughead to see her so upset. How did he not see this coming? How could he have been so blind?

“[Y/N],” He started, his mouth pursed as he tried to pick the perfect words from the garden in his brain. “We function without words. That’s how it’s always been. I couldn’t tell you when we started us, because in a way we were always us. Just somewhere along the line, you and I delved into different world and never left. It worked. I shouldn’t have to tell you that I care about you, [Y/N]. It’s written clear as day on my face when I kiss your lips.”

Closing her eyes, she bowed her head. “That’s the point. We never talked about us and maybe we should have because I’m so confused, Jug.”

His brows knitted together, the wrinkle along his forehead becoming more defined. “What are you confused about, [Y/N]?”

Looking at him in his eyes, she calmly asked. “Is your novel more important then what we have?”

Jughead hesitated, the words getting caught in his throat. Closing his mouth, he shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, Juggie.” She breathed, a tear falling from her eye. “If you had to think, then I know my answer.”

“What do you want me to do, [Y/N]! This is who I am, you knew this before you dived head first into my dark waters. I am not the only one to blame for this.”

Standing up, [Y/N] whimpered out. “I want you to fight for me, Jug. I want you to tell me I’m being crazy and that this-whatever I’m feeling will pass. That you’ll make it up to me or that you love me or something.”

Jughead stood up too, his eyes searching hers. “I don’t know what to say, [Nickname]. What I feel for you can’t be described because I really don’t know what I feel. You’ve always just been there, [Y/N]. I care for you, I do. I just don’t know what more I can give you then what I’m already giving you.”

She stepped forward, “What do you feel when you kiss me, Jug? What do you feel when you hold my hand? What do you feel when I’m lying on your chest in the middle of the night? What do you feel when you haven’t seen me all day? Do you even feel anything for me at all? Am I just some girl you can practice on for the real thing?” Tears were falling now, she couldn’t hold them back anymore. “We’ve been best friends since were six, Jughead. I’ve grown up with you, watched you turn into the person you are and fell in love with it all. You’re flaws, you’re oddly humorous morbid personality, everything.”

Shaking his head, and turning slightly away from her. His hand reached up to his forehead, “[Y/N],” he warned.

Taking in a deep breath to settle her tears, she scrunched up her nose and wiped underneath her nose. “I can’t do this anymore, Jug.” Biting her lip, she held back a whimper at his darkened facial expression. The cold look he gave her was enough to shatter her fragile heart.

“So, that’s it, then?” Jug asked coldly.

Avoiding his harsh stare, she softly spoke out. “I asked a simple question and you couldn’t give me the answer. So why should I pretend that I never asked? I screwed up, I had this picture in my head of how we are supposed to be and we are far from that picture.”

“You’re throwing away years of friendship because-“

“-because I love you, Jughead. It’s just like Betty and Archie except in our case, you fed it. You kissed me, you held me, you caressed me. Over and over again.” Moving the chair back to its place, she wiped away more tears. “I’m too emotionally invested in you to continue our friendship right now but maybe when I get over it, we can go back to how it used to be, the days before you first kissed me on my front porch.”

“[Y/N],” he called out to her.

Shaking her head, she headed for the door. Swinging it open, she looked over her shoulder and pressed a smile. “I’ll always love you, Jug. That I have no control over but they say the soul usually knows what to do to heal itself, the only challenge is to silence the mind.”

Jughead watched her walk out of the news room, his heart pounding in his chest. What in the world just happened? Never in a million years would he have ever pictured his life without [Y/N]. She was essential to his life. She had always been there, always. Despite Archie being his best friend, so was [Y/N] but in a different way. She believed in everything he wanted to do, no matter how crazy. She was always someone he could rely on no matter what. And even though she would still be present in his life by going to the same school.

It felt like a part of him had been ripped from his body and thrown away, lost in the cruel world they lived in. He felt empty.

“Juggie?” Betty was leaning against the doorframe, “Everything okay?”

He stood there for a minute, still stunned that apart of him just walked away from him. “No.” He shook his head, “No, everything is not okay.”


Goodbyes hurt when the story is not finished and the book has been closed – jnd

touches & kisses

✩ jb (im jaebum) x got7
✩ bad boy/pierced!au
rated x warning: sexual content–kinkiest scenario i’ve written so far so yeah… if it’s not your cup of hot coco, shoo!
✩ for @letsdofrench / @venjaeance :’)

The reputation your boyfriend held was personified from mere stereotypical advances. From his icy stare to his intimidating demeanor, his studded leather jacket to his ripped skinny jeans, and his revving motorcycle to his silver lip rings; Jaebum was defined as the town’s bad boy from his looks alone. You hated the fact that nearly everyone judged your beau for his appearance and not for the kind hearted man you fell in love with.

Quite truthfully, Jaebum was nothing but sweet and charming and a complete gentleman. A young man who was rough around the edges gave your cookie cutter town something to leer about. Looks didn’t define the charming man who opened doors for you, helped the elderly carry their groceries and volunteered at the animal shelter with you.

Im Jaebum was the definition of the sweetest guy in your eyes.

But those qualities weren’t the only reasons you adored him.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

idk if this has been done but how about mc lyric pranking the rfa+v+saeran? can be sfw or nsfw!

Saeran: Little Did You Know by Alex and Sierra 

You: Little did you know...

Saeran: Don’t tell me you ate my ice cream. 

You: How I’m breaking while you fall asleep, Little did you know… 

Saeran: Muffin, what are you talking about? Tell me, please remember no secrets between us 

You: Im still haunted by the memories…. Little did you know I’m trying to pick myself up piece by piece…

Saeran: Look I know I don’t deserve you okay but please tell me how can I help you because (y/n) you helped me pick up my pieces please babe please let me know how to help you… your scaring me…

You: Underneath it all, I’m held captive by the hole inside, Ive been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind…. 

Saeran: Please.. don’t tell my.. my biggest fear is coming true… please.. noo.. lets talk about this when I get home… please..

You: Im ready to forgive you but forgetting is a harder fight 

Saeran: NO PLEASE NO IM SORRY PLEASE (Y/N) IM SORRY PLEA-

You: COOKIE IM SORRY ITS JUST A SONG I LOVE YOU… I ATE YOUR ICE CREAM IM SORRY… 

Saeran: @$#%! HDFGJQN GD^!*@ 

Jumin: Ego by Beyonce 

You: Aw, baby, how you doing? You know I’m gonna cut right to the chase, huh? Some women were made But me, myself? I like to think that I was created For a special purpose, You know? What’s more special than YOU? You feel me?

Jumin: Continue Kitten

You: It’s on, baby let’s get lost, You don’t need to call in to work ‘cause you’re the boss, For real, want you to show me how you feel, I consider myself lucky, that’s a big deal, Why

You: Well, you got the key to my heart, But you ain’t gonna need it, I’d rather you open up my body, And show me secrets you didn’t know was inside, No need for me to lie

Jumin: Keep going my love, you have my full attention *he exits the limo* 

You: It’s too big, Its too wide, its too strong, it won’t fit, its too much, it’s too tough, You got a big ego, such a huge ego, I Love your big ego..

*you hear the door open and then you felt your back lightly hit the couch* 

*You see jumin licking his lips and suddenly you felt his hot breath tickling your neck* 

Now now my kitten, lets see you stroke *grabs your hand and puts it on his crotch* this ego and lets make it fit shall we? 

Seven: Acquainted by The Weekend 

You: Baby you’re no good, caused they warned me bout your type, got me ducking left and right

Seven: You got that right ;)

You: You got me touchin on your body, to say that were in love is dangerous, but seven I’m glad we’re acquainted 

Seven: Really having my d**k in your mouth means that we are just acquainted.. WE ARE NOT EVEN FRIENDS. I THOUGHT WE WERE DATING. FINE IF YOU DONT APPRECIATE ME.. ILL FIND SOMEONE WHO DOES!! I AM HURT THAT YOU DEGRADED EVERYTHING WE HAVE TOGETHER 

Seven: Oh and if I was you, I would pick a song that we didn’t fuck to :) love you see you in 10 mins!! 

V: Gotta Catch em All - Pokemon Theme Song 

You: I want to be the very best, like no one ever was 

V: Hello my precious angel :) I hope you can accomplish your dreams and be the best in your field! Know I love and support you always! 

You: To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause! 

V:  …… 

You: I will travel across the land, searching far and wide!

V: Teach Pokemon to understand!!!! The power that’s inside!!!! Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) its you and me!!!!!!! I know its my destiny!!!!

You: Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) its you and me, I know its my destiny
Pokemon, oh, you’re my best friend!!!!! In a world we must defend, Pokemon, (gotta catch them all) a heart so true!!!Our courage will pull us through

V: YOU TEACH ME 

YOU: AND I TEACH YOU!! 

V: POKEEMOOONN

YOU: POKEEEMOOOON !! I never would of that the amazing, carefree, would know the Pokemon theme song! I never knew you liked those stuff :

V: I like to be a bit mysterious… it goes with me.. Me and Jumin use to battle each other all the time..We still do…. I started with popplio.. he started with Rowlet… 

You: Dont fuck with my litten.

Yoosung: Burn by Usher 

You:  Its going to burn for me to say this but its coming from my heart 

You: It’s been a long time coming, we da been fall apart 

Yoosung: Baby do you need me to call an ambulance!! ARE YOU AT THE APARTMENT A HEART BURN SOUNDS SERIOUS 

You: I really want to work this out but I don’t think you’re gonna change

Yoosung: Have I done something wrong? :( I know you are out of my league, I hear my classmates whispering how can a pathetic guy like me have someone so beautiful as you :( 

You: I think its best we go our separate ways… 

Yoosung: I always dreamed of this day coming.. first… sally left… then Rika… and now you… I… respect your wishes (y/n).. can you please.. just wait till my last class is over? May I have permission to buy you your favorite flowers and food because if this is going to be my last time seeing you, I want to have a good memory of you….

You: *dies* *guilt* *his heart shattered* *your heart is shattering* YOOSUNG IM SORRY IT WAS A JOKE A LYRIC PRANK IM SORRY!!! YOU KNOW IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!! IM SORRRY 

Yoosung: WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH MY HEART WHEN YOU KNOW ITS YOURS *SENDS CRYING EMOJI*

Zen: Pullin me Back by Chingy 

You: Every time I try to leave….something keeps pulling me back, Telling me I need you in my life

Zen: What do you mean ‘leave’. Define it and use it in a sentence. 

You: It was meant to be, You were meant for me, So that means we gotta make it work

Zen: I am legit confused. This is worse than an unpolished script. So you want to break my heart but then you want to make it work. We are talking about this when I get home. Im leaving practice right now. Just look at a picture of me and just remember all the good times we have. Please. 

You: It was all good at first, Spending money, going shopping, Eating at the finest restaurants,And then from club hopping

Zen:  So when you think and see a picture of me, all you think is materialistic things! REALLY! Wow, Jaehee was right about you, you were just using me. I’ll help pack your things when I get to my house. Thanks for breaking my heart. 

You: NO HYUN PLEASE IT WAS JUST A PRANK YOU KNOW I WOULD NEVER DO THAT PLEASE HYUN FUCK BABY PLEASE IM SORRY LOOK UP THE LYRICS AND YOU WILL SEE THAT ITS FROM A SONG AND AND BABY PLEASE 

Zen: *sends winks face selfie* Cute how my acting skills even work on you ;) I love you too baby, don’t ever think about messing with me ;) 

Jaehee: Come and Get It by Selena Gomez 

You: You ain’t gotta worry, its an open invitation 
Jaehee: Did you open my mail? 
You: I’ll be seating right here, real patient, All day all night, I be waiting standby 
Jaehee: Please (y/n) don’t stay up for me, Mr. DickHead has me working over time :( I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me :( 
You: Can’t stop because I love it, hate the way I love you, All day, all night, maybe I’m addicted for life, no lie.
Jaehee: You speak beautiful words hehe *3* thank you for making hell more bearable :) 
You: I’m not too shy to show I love you, I got no regrets. I love you much, too much to hide you, this love ain’t finished yet.
Jaehee:  What do you mean show me……. 
You: *sends nude* 
*jaehee in the office* 

Originally posted by kaaatana

anonymous asked:

ok so this is probably stupid but: how do i avoid confusion (with pronouns and stuff) when writing a scene with two characters of the same gender? i'm trying to write a romantic bit with two girls and it's always "she said" "she replied" "she smiled" etc and it gets confusing even for me lol. thanks a lot!!!💖

Not stupid at all! This is a problem I have too because I don’t want to keep using their names!

The trick, I’ve found is variety. There are three main ways to establish who’s talking to who!

1. Body Language/direction! The lovely thing about writing two characters in close contact is that you get to use their placement as identifiers!

She slid her hands into the other woman’s hair.  “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said. Her hands found the edge of a shirt and slipped underneath to bare skin. “So much.”

She drew her head to her shoulder, fingers still rubbing over the silky strands. The fingers at her back were tracing the scars there, sending pleasant shivers up her spine. “We won’t have to be apart again. Ever again.”

It’s still a little muddy (partly from not having named them before this example), but I’ve given each woman a clear action. One has her hands in the other’s hair, the other has her hands on the other’s back. Be careful to put the action WITH the person doing it. If Character A is petting someone’s hair AND speaking, those go in the same paragraph. As soon as Character B does anything, that’s a new paragraph.

Action goes with dialogue, that’s a key rule to avoid confusion!

2. Limited Point of View: There are two types of third person POV (he said/she said) that I work with: limited and omniscient. When you want to use pronouns instead of names, it’s much easier to use limited since, at that point, the other characters are defined by how one character perceives them. It means that there is one “main character” and one “main character’s [blank\].” For example:

She slid her hands into her lover’s hair. “I missed you.”

Her lover wrapped her arms around her, relief plainly written on her face. “I missed you too. So much.”

She knew that she must look just as relieved as the other woman. She welcomed the skin contact and drew her lover closer. “We won’t have to be apart. Ever again.”

This helps the reader “tune in” to what’s happening through one character’s eyes. They know what Character A is feeling/thinking/seeing, so they know that any “she” they’re commenting on is not the “main character.”

3. Repeated Description. This one is useful, but use it sparingly! Readers don’t like things repeated too often because it makes your work drag. Think of repeated description as a rule of three– if you use it more than three times in scene for one character, it’s probably too many times.

Green eyes traced over warm, flushed skin and her hands moved to caress the dark hair of the woman in front of her. “I missed you.”

The dark-haired woman wrapped her arms around the other, her own hands worming their way past cloth to feel bare skin. She watched green eyes droop with pleasure and relief. She began to trace the scars under her palms. “I missed you too. So much.”

“We won’t have to be apart,” she promised. Her green eyes slid shut as she drew the dark-haired woman forward to rest against her shoulder. “Ever again.”

The benefit to repeated description? It sounds way more romance-y. The downsides to repeated description? At some point your readers begin to shout “We know she has dark hair! Her eyes are green! We get it!” So use it responsibly.


So here are the three main ways I try to differentiate characters! Let me know if you have any questions :) 

A Touch Of Love, 1.

Genre | Romance / Valentine’s Day drabbles.

Pairing | Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Prompt“No, like– It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

Words | 1,099 words.


Kim Taehyung knows better than to expect you to be on time.

It is but a mere concept created by humanity! You will always exclaim as a feeble excuse to defend your indisputable lack of management when it comes to the twenty-four hours of a day. There is no doubt about it that you leave important, need-to-be-attended-to matters to the final, clutching seconds before they are due, and that a decent handful of minutes are lost between the spaces of your fingers, squandered to distractions and procrastination.

It is a behaviour that Taehyung hates to adore, a terrible skill that you have refined to the marrow, yet he cannot deny how unbearably endearing it is. Most especially when you arrive just on time, blood flushing your cheeks, eyes shining with the sting of the wind where it cut into the delicate film while you ran, the air punched out of your lungs though you still kiss him as though you are not already lightheaded enough.

Today is no different. Except it is. It is! Because today defines the anniversary that the one and only Kim Taehyung took you out on the first date of a drive-in theatre soaked in the hues of twilight and learned that you could point out all of the constellations in the sky and discovered what buttered popcorn tastes like when stuck in the crevices of your lips and how delightfully warm his hand feels when it is carefully positioned beneath lace in the opening created by your unbuttoned, unzipped jeans. The two of you found love underneath placid starlight in the blanket-laden tray of his ancient truck, a devotion that has been strung in unraveling silk, tied to the towball of the vehicle parked before a screen bigger than imaginable, laced around the bedpost of the room you first made unforgettable love amongst freshly washed sheets, knotted and bound in the landmarks that the both of you claimed as your own along the way in your venture of redamancy until this very moment right here. The third anniversary. Marking the longest relationship that Taehyung has ever had the rapture of being enamoured by, the sole one that he truly believes will continue on until his final breath on this earth.

And you are late. As per usual.

The coffee that Taehyung nurses in the comfort of the outdoor cafe awning is lukewarm by the moment that he notices the escalating soundtrack of sneakers slapping sharp against the pavement, loose pebbles crunching beneath the soles in their trek. And, in that time, there is not a moment to spare to turn around and spectate your approach for you are already skidding into view by the side of the table, a grin splitting your flustered features into that of a crescent moon, arms goofily lifted in the air and Taehyung just about falls in love all over again.

“Happy–” You dive onto his shores, collapsing the entirety of your weight onto his seated, gratified self and kissing him absolutely silly amidst your words– “Third– Anniversary– Lover!”

Taehyung cups your blushing features between his palms, framing beauty and the one thing in this world that he adores like no other, holding your catastrophic entity so preciously. There is honey still pressed to your lips and he yearns for more, bringing your mouths together in gentle intimacy until the rubescent simmer of your cheeks is suitably attributed to the way he dips his tongue into the parted seam of your lips, rather than the urgent sprint you made from the apartment to meet him on the cusp of his ending lunch break.

“You’re hopeless,” Taehyung teases, kisses you once more for good measure, public displays of affection be wholly damned. “Did you just wake up?”

Cheekily, you grin wider and slink away from his hold to position yourself in the opposite seat, red hands on unadulterated display. “Technically, it’s still morning.”

“For only ten more minutes, silly girl.” Affection inflects his tone, and now that you are right here, living and existing before him, the desire to abandon the remaining five hours of his shift to spend the day with you tugs earnestly at his heart. “You still taste of… Breakfast…”

The remainder of Taehyung’s sentence dies on the tip of his tongue as he gets a good look at you, a really good look, beyond the staring at your face that his eyes have been trained on doing since the second you arrived. Practically swallowing your torso is, unmistakably, his own sweater of black and white stripes, the hem tucked into the front of your jeans while the arms are cloaked in the denim of, yet again, his own jacket. The sheer nonchalance that flows confidently in your movements as you flick through a menu has him completely unsure as to whether you realise that you are currently wearing his clothes, or if the sheer rush of getting here enforced you to throw on whatever you could find without noticing the size difference in the attire.

“Is there something on my face?” And Taehyung, in his bewildered state, comes to realise that you are blinking at him, eyebrow raised.

“Ah– No, it’s just that… My clothes–”

A small bubble of laughter escapes your lungs, lowering your lashes to observe your fingertips picking at a loose thread on the cuff of the denim jacket, the tiniest smile nestled in the corner of your mouth. “Oh! Yeah, they are truly so comfy and they smell like your cologne, so I sometimes wear them out while running errands or visiting the university. I never realised you didn’t know! I hope you weren’t wanting to wear these tonight–”

“No, no– I just– They look unacceptably fantastic on you,” Taehyung gradually smiles, adoration swelling in his chest at the affectionate statement you so effortlessly declared. “You suit them more than I do.”

“Why thank you, but you know what they suit better?” You muse, and it is a trap that Taehyung, without realising, steps himself directly into as the sound of acknowledgement he creates is suspended in the air between you, and you are answering the cursed question with a smirk made for sinners.

“The floor.”

And let us just say that Taehyung never thought that the third anniversary with the love of his life would result in him nearly losing his job because he never returned from lunch. Though sometimes, love makes everyone enact upon ludicrous decisions – most especially for him when they are encouraged by the cunning, though adoringly beguiling likes of you.

Drabbles | One: KTH • Two: MYGThree: JHSFour: KNJFive: KSJSix: JJKSeven: PJM (Finale)

bailci  asked:

solangelo first kiss? (where neither of them have ever kissed anyone before)

read on ao3

It’s during the summer. Another one of those days when Will drags Nico outside to enjoy the sunshine and soak up the vitamin D.

Nico complains, because of course he does, but really he doesn’t feel any sort of reluctance. Even when the sun burns his legs, because they’re clothed in black jeans, and he has to squint when looking up at Will. Because he’s tall, and the sun is bright, and it kind of obscures his vision.

Not that he mentions that part.

“So what’s your actual plan here?” Nico asks, trying not to flush because Will’s hand is tight around his wrist, pulling him forward. The two of them are making their way through the Camp Half-Blood grounds, and when you get past the cabins and the hoards of people just arriving back for summer, there is so much green.

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Laundry Mishaps (M) - RA!Jimin

Originally posted by hoseokijn

Summary: You just wanted to do some laundry, but an encounter with the RA leads to a private session in his dorm room.

Member: Jimin

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning: Smut, oh dear god

A/N: Supposedly based on the RA!Jimin from the RA!Jimin headcanon. Supposedly. He’s a lot more fluffy there than he is here, that’s for sure.

Sequel: Take a Break (M)

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Fanfiction - My Brother’s Lass (Part Twelve)

This isn’t a drill. It is, indeed, the long awaited penultimate chapter of MBL!! You can find all the previous parts here.

My Brother’s Lass (Part Twelve) – Redeemed

Dead bodies don’t talk – and yet, they scream.

There is something deeply disturbing about a corpse, which goes beyond the smell of rotten flesh and decaying things. Something that compels us to look away, to hide, fearing that we might get a glance of our own fate. To touch a dead person is to knock on a newly left home – still warm but jarring in its emptiness, vacant windows in the eyes of an elapsed soul.

It’s not the dead we fear, frightened beyond reason at the sight of a cadaver- but the line that separates us from them, getting thinner and more real with each spent heartbeat.

I could barely breathe underneath the pile of dead men, laying over me like grotesque blankets. I struggled to inhale in shallow and quick gasps, afraid I would start to retch and vomit, revealing my presence on the back of the wagon. And – I must admit – dismayed with the thought of my soul deciding to make an escape to join theirs.

It had seemed a daring but suitable plan, born in Claire’s mind as we scouted the outside of Fort William, looking for a possible entrance. A disjointed wagon, conducted by a cross-eyed man with a cleft lip, had chosen that moment to swing on its wheels towards the prison. A dark cloud of flies accompanied the march, as small widows immersed in grief, dutifully crying on a wake. Soon enough wee had been able to see the bodies stored in the back, collected over the barracks down the road, to be accounted for and dispensed by the garrison.

“Hm.” Claire had hummed, shielding her eyes from the downing sun to take a better glance at the sad procession, as we hid in the vegetation nearby.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to locate the redcoats on the niches – a well-guarded place, crawling with young soldiers, eager to prove themselves to their King. “I ken that sound means ye’re up to something.”

“Well,” She pursed her lips in thoughtfulness. “How do you feel about an early funeral?”

I gave her a half-amused, half-puzzled look. “Not even marrit yet and ye already looking forward to be a widow, Sassenach?”

“You did say the only way to get in is through the gate.” Claire shrugged and pointed vaguely to the wagon, the driver now saluting the sentinel to ask for permission to enter. “Unless you have a secret army you have been planning to tell me all about, this seems like a way to get in without being killed outright.”

“Are ye seriously suggesting I disguise myself amongst the dead to enter?” I raised a brow, aghast. She gave me a look of unwavering conviction. “And how do ye suppose we were to get out, if I manage to rescue my brother?”

“Haven’t got that far on the plan, I’m afraid.” Claire conceded. “But time is running out. The next round of executions will take place in a couple of days – we must act now or Willie will be forever lost.”

“Aye.” I swallowed hard, watching the wagon disappear behind the gates, one bare foot – almost grey in colour - dangling from the back as an uncanny wave of goodbye. “We’ll manage.”

“We have to do something about your hair. Red Jamie.” Her eyes bore into mine, concerned and supportive, silently apologizing for the harsh words. “If someone sees you helping William, they’ll know who you are instantly. Before you can say “Humpty Dumpty!” Lallybroch will be crawling with English soldiers and you’ll be the next one arrested, waiting for the hangman to tie his ropes.” Her hand searched mine and gripped it. “I can’t have that.”

“I dinna know about Mister Humpty Dumpty, but I ken yer meaning.” I nodded, my free hand mindlessly brushing the red cowlicks of my hair. “Give me yer wee knife, mo nighean donn.”

I recalled the feeling of misplaced tranquillity that descended over me that afternoon, while I sat next to the weeping stream, Claire’s hands upon me. Her fingers trembled a little – and yet her work was precise and decided, baring me of the red streaks that had defined so much of myself through my lifetime. My fallen hair sprawled at our feet, sometimes kissed and swept away by the breeze, a cloak I could no longer use for shelter because it was so strikingly associated with who I was.

When she was done, Claire had placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned over to kiss the naked top of my head – her lips parted and quivering, like a prayer. I held her waist and placed my forehead against her heart, wordlessly asking for her blessing. A warrior preparing for battle, already walking on the outskirts of afterlife - if not for the hold she still had over me, enough to keep me with her. Claire would always keep me grounded. The heart out of my chest, which I had chosen without a second thought.

I groped my bald skull and smirked, attempting to sound more cheerful than I truly was. “Red Jamie no more.”

“Always Red Jamie.” Claire caressed my lips and smiled, sheathing her sgian dubh in its scabbard. “Always my Jamie.”

The wagon jostled along the path and I faintly heard the driver making his usual greeting to the soldier on duty, making a crude remark about his gruesome commodity. The sound of something heavy being open, more laughter, wheels complaining – and then we were across the short bridge and into the Fort’s courtyard. I sighed in relief and instantly regretted it, the moment my nostrils were filled with the smell of blood and loosened bowels.

When we stopped, I opened an eye to spy the ghastly driver heading out to an inner door, dutifully taking the documents he carried with the day’s account. Clenching my teeth, I rolled over like a conniving lizard and peeked through a crevice on the side of the transport. We had arrived during ration hours – no soul within sight. Regretfully smiling to my nearest companion – his eyes still open in shock, death coming much too soon to his expectations, his teeth the colour of old parchment – I slid from the embrace of the dead and into firm land of the living.

I knew where Willie was being kept – Claire had made me an accurate description, the same memory and confidence she applied to her treatments serving her well in that purpose. My heart jumped, hammering against my ribs every time I made a turn in a corridor, each time I dissolved against the shadows to avoid detection by passing patrols. I touched the hidden dirk against my thigh and prayed “Not yet. Please, not before I find him”.

I came to his cell, deep in the guts of the Fort. The guard in the corridor was lulled by prolonged inactivity – he barely struggled when I trapped his neck with my arm, pressing enough for him to faint. I knew the risk of someone discovering the intrusion was getting greater by the minute – expeditiously grabbed the chain of keys from his belt and headed towards the cell’s door.  

He had been left in complete darkness. I opened the locked door, holding the small candle I had recovered from the guard’s table.

Willie was asleep, curled in a defensive posture, his back against the door. I walked slowly, afraid of scaring him enough for him to make a loud noise. As I approached, I noticed the bruises on his face, the sickening array of green and grey.

“Willie.” I whispered, touching him on the shoulder – the bones protruding, closer to the surface. He came awake like a man coming for air after prolonged immersion, gasping with his eyes wide open.

“Dinna touch me!” William croaked, his hands shielding his head. “Let me be! Please! Please!”

Bi samhach!” I hugged him gently trying to silence him, crouching next to him on the filthy floor. “It’s me. Jamie.” And then, noticing his unhinged gaze, I resumed to talk in Gaidhlig, feeling that the soothing ancient words would distance him from the nightmares of his captivity. “Seas, a brathair.”

Sawny?” He sobbed, his hands turned into claws, seeking to feel the contact of my flesh. “Seamus, is that ye, a bhalaich?”

“Aye, ‘tis me – hairless, but me.” I held his face between my hands. “I told ye I’d come for ye.”

“I thought I’d never see ye again.” Willie confessed in a broken voice, hugging me with abandon. “Not in this life, at least.”

“Ye should have known I’m too pig-headed to allow such a thing.” I said in jest, helping him to sit up. “We have to go, Willie. There’s not much time.”

“I’m too weak.” He glared at me, his lips chapped. “Ye have to leave me here, Jamie. We won’t make it if you take me with ye.”

“I’m not leaving ye!” I retorted in an assertive tone. “Both of us will walk out of this prison or none of us will.”

“Ye have to.” He insisted, agitated, trying to force me to understand. “Randall – the English captain – he’s the darkest soul I ever encountered on this earth. He thrives on his wicked ways and his desires aren’t meant for this world. He’s the lowest of demons, a creature of destruction – he canna see ye, Jamie. If he’s made aware of yer existence, he’ll want ye.” He gulped, an intense tremor taking over his body. “Ye aren’t marked – not in a visible way, as I am. Ye are everything he wanted to be and isn’t and for that he’ll try to possess it – and when he discovers himself unable to, he’ll try to destroy it. Ye’ll destroy you.”

“I dinna fear him, Willie.” I assured him in a calm voice, even if every hair on my arms stood on end. “It’s leaving ye behind that would destroy me. Blood of my blood, aye?”

“Ye should fear him. The things he is capable of…” Willie said between clenched teeth, fighting pain as I forced him to stand. “Leave, Jamie. I’d only ask of ye that ye see Claire safe. That ye make her happy, for as long as she might want ye.”

“Claire loves ye too, a brathair.” I said with gentleness. “She would never speak to me again if I dinna take ye out of this place – probably would stab me herself. Neither of us would know a moment of happiness for the rest of our lives.”

“She sure is a fierce wee thing.” He offered me the ghost of a smile and walked by my side, dragging his left leg, his arm around my shoulders for support. He was indeed exhausted, spent from days of fear and hunger, his leg badly bruised – or even broken – from one of his last beatings. “Thinking of her – of ye both – has kept me sane between these walls. If I never see her again, please tell her that…”

“Ye can tell her yerself, brother.” I stopped him, giving him a lopsided smile. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it more coming from ye.”

Slowly we climbed up the stairs towards the tower. I was grunting with the effort of almost carrying William on my arms – and acutely aware that only a miracle could make us avoid detection, given the pace in which we were moving.

As we came around a corner, an officer almost bumped into us. What followed was a short fight, awkwardly restrained on the small space of the corridor, ending when I clubbed him on the head with my dirk’s handle.

We could hear loud screams coming from downstairs, urgent and angry like a wild beast awakening, urging us to run away. I pulled William with me, ignoring his incessant pleas to leave him behind – I was determined to save him, even if it meant I’d lose my life or freedom. This was my road of redemption – the journey to regain the right to call him my brother, after all the deception and grievances I had inflicted upon him.

Eventually we stood on the battlement above the courtyard, soldiers gathering and screaming, pointing at our figures with accusing fingers. The frenetic sound of trained soldiers running up the stairs in our direction crushed the insides of my head, until all I could hear was the echo of the end coming, marching towards us with an English accent.

“Do ye trust me?” I asked roughly, my hand gripping the back of William’s stained shirt. His blue eyes bore into mine – a spark of past resentment and heartbreak, but then the limpid acknowledgment of earned faith.

A-chaoidh.” He nodded. Always.

I turned to the other side, facing the cold dark waters bellow us – menacing in their unknown depth.  William’s breathing was laboured and superficial, as he realized what I was about to do.

I took his hand, crushing it inside my own, and we jumped together, diving into a sea yet to prove itself merciful. And as we blazed into the sky, our joined hands exploded in heartrending pain, one single bullet shot through them – making us again one flesh, one blood.

Jerome Valeska - Captivated Crazy Pt 5

Part One - here

Part Two - here

Part Three - here

Part Four - here

(y/n) = Your name

(l/n) = Last name

(h/c) = Hair colour

(e/c) = Eye colour

Y/N collapsed onto her bed in the luxurious apartment she was currently hiding in with the rest of the Maniax, rubbing her tired eyes with the insides of her palms, th H/C began wishing she hadn’t downed crappy coffee an hour earlier. Now she lay in her room, quietly enjoying the after effects of killing seven people earlier in the day. Raking her fingers through his tangled hair, she fanned it around her face like a halo, keeping it out of her face and, slowly, her heavy lidded eyes fell shut to the tones of chainsaws on metal.

“Hey, hey, Y/N wake up.” The H/C groaned, turning away from the intrusive voice which had interrupted her slumber, the girl’s eyes lazily rolled open, glazed over with the remnants of a beautifully violent dream. Without turning to face him, Y/N knew who’s voice it was,

“What, Jerome? Couldn’t you tell that I was sleeping?” she grumbled, her voice muffled by her cotton pillow. The ginger wasn’t listening however, jumping on his knees and bouncing energetically over to where his friend was trying to sleep,

“But I’ve got good news!” he whined, lying next to Y/N, cuddling as close as possible without risking bodily harm to himself.

“What good news?” she caved in, turning to face the ginger, her eyes widening slightly and a faint blush adorning her face as she realised how close he was to her, if she just tilted her head slightly, her lips could just brush-

“I’m the boss, its official!” he exclaimed, almost defining Y/N with the shrieking laugh which followed, which was almost immediately followed by a low, sexy growl, “Now you have to do what I say, gorgeous.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes at the insinuation and propped her body up by her elbows, “You’re not the boss, you’re just bossy. There’s a difference.” Jerome’s face went blank, an evil smirk spreading across his face,

“Ask Galavan, it’s legit. I’m afraid you were too busy sleeping and missed the try-outs.” He rumbled, and Y/N once again found herself impressed by the theatrics of his voice. She shrugged, snuggling further into her blankets,

“You can be their boss, but no one bosses me around” she retorted, content to argue this issue until she got her own way. It was Jeromes turn to shrug,

“The only way you’re in power here is if you marry into it, doll face.” He joked, winking exaggeratedly in her direction. Y/Ns eyes narrowed and, suddenly, she was straddling Jerome’s waist, her fingertips triumphing in the sensation of his blood pulsating under his smooth, porcelain skin. She grinned wickedly, leaning her head to nuzzle the crook of his shoulder, she felt his red hair tickling her cheek and his breath coming out in rapid, minty spurts,

“You know J,” she whispered, revelling in the shivers that coursed through his body, “you should think twice before making widowhood my only path to power.” Jerome nodded slightly, his cheek brushing against her ear,

“Naughty girl,” he chuckled darkly, “but, I can see your point.” His strong arms wrapped around Y/Ns waist as he rolled over, surrounding her with his body, and quirking a cocky smile,

“Partners, doll face?” Y/N nodded, “Great! But beforehand, I’ll need to know your criminal history, whatcha say, huh?” the H/C beamed up at her ginger friend, highly inappropriate thoughts circling her mind as she focused on his grinning lips and heavy, solid body on top of her frame.

“W-what do you want to know, J? I already know your entire bloody life story.” She murmured, attempting a cocky smirk, Jerome smile grew so wide it could split his face in two, his weight shifted slightly as he rubbed his chin with his hand in mock concentration, an excuse for resting almost all of his weight on his friend. And God, was he beginning to hate the word ‘friend’.

“What did ya get arrested for, darlin’? Murder? Arson? What was your life like? What are your philosophies? I want to know everything about you.” he questioned, lowering his lips dangerously close to her neck, smiling in how sweet the revenge for her prior teasing felt. Y/N scoffed in amusement at his naivety,

“Nobody’s ever been arrested murder, J; just for getting caught.” The ginger cocked his eyebrow in intrigue,

“Who was it?” he asked, eyes wide in anticipation as the stunning beauty underneath him began her monologue, having never truly confessed her supposed sins to anyone before. She took a deep breath, her chest brushing tantalisingly against Jerome’s as she began to recount her story, and the gingers fascination and affection for her growing with every perfect word which left her flawless lips. It was as if she was speaking his mind and soul, it was as if she was his other half, his missing piece, his partner in crime.

“Murder, like talent, seems to run in my family. My father loved my mother a lot, and she loved him. And, as my dad always said, ‘if you have the woman you love, what more do you need? Well, besides an alibi for the time of her husband’s murder.’ I always thought he was joking, turns out it was true. My mother was his alibi, as it happens.

Anyway, none of that matters anymore, they both died in a car crash when I was thirteen, at least they went together, you know? I know it sounds crazy-probably because I am-but I’ve always believed there are only two truths, love, and murder. My parents had those both down to a tee.

I got sent to the nut house for murdering the school bitch gang, all seven of them. I loved it, the only thing I regret is that I didn’t get away with it; I should have made it quick and clean. Revenge clouded my senses though, I butchered them beyond recognition, but I took too long, I had no alibi, I had no one to turn to when I tried to hide the bodies. They begged and begged, they said I had no right to take their lives, but you know what I said, J? I said, ‘nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a baseball bat owns dea-’”

Suddenly, Y/Ns words were silenced when a pair of surprisingly soft, plush lips crashed onto her own, muffling her speech and desperately trying to convey the wave of emotions he wanted articulate towards the perfect woman who was kissing him back with the same brutality.


I was thinking of having some smut in the next chapter, if anyone could give me their opinions that’d be great :)


@ tothetardissterek - if you dont want to be tagged in this one just let be know :)

Originally posted by aryasrk

Queen of the Water (10)

Bucky x Reader

Summary: A normal girl gets thrown into the Royal world. Royal AU

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: the long awaited fluff is here now :D

TAGS AT THE END!

CATCH UP HERE Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

Originally posted by negasonic-teenage-what-da-shit

A week into her solidarity, she had a visitor. She stood in front of the door to the cottage hesitantly before unlocking the door and peeking out the door. She swallows hard as she stares at the man in front of her. His hair is an unruly mess and his eyes are glossy—he hadn’t been sleeping. He throws the letter she had written him to her feet. He looks furious and she’s starting to get angry.

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Dripping wet

Calum Hood - 1221 words

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I couldn’t help but think about it every second I had gotten a moment to myself. It was one of those moments that was carved onto your eyelids, permanently etched in your memories like the happy moments from childhood. I had had a crush on Calum the moment I stepped into this flat as a temporary roommate, only to never leave again. Luke was complaining about needing extra money for the rent and I had been complaining about my gross roommate for the same amount of time. Sometime drunk, Calum proposed I’d move in with him and Luke. He had been drunk and shirtless, my own mind hazed over as I merely nodded my head in an agreeing motion, gaze fixed onto the tight abdomen.

The first time I had sort of walked in on him had been over a month ago. My charger decided to let life once more and all I had planned was barging into Calum’s room and loaning his for the remainder of the evening. I received a private show though when I heard his low groans resonate through the thick wooden door.

I know I should’ve just left right then and grant him his privacy, but that sound leaving his throat sparked something in me, leaving me damp and desperate for more of those sounds. I had been standing there silently until he groaned again and stilled, his hand resting on the base of his swollen shaft. I had kept standing there for just a moment too long as Calum began to curse underneath his breath and got up from his seat on the large bed. I had scrambled to get away in time, bumping into Luke when I rounded the corner in my haste. He had laughed and joked about my clumsiness, but my cheeks and ears were still tinted pink from mere moments ago.

The second time happened three days ago. But this time it was different. He had borrowed my Hunger Games collection and I was desperate for some Peeta at that moment. He was in the exact position as before, hand rubbing along his shaft as he squeezed his eyes closed and soft grunts blew past his lips. His shirt laid discarded at the foot of his bed, gym shorts just pushed down low enough to free his erection from its confines. In the middle of his impending orgasm, my name flew past his lips like a whisper before he soiled his stomach with his hot release.

And here I was. In the shower, naked back pressed against the cold tiles, head thrown back as I let my fingers slip through my folds and down to my core. I couldn’t help but relive those two moments I had stolen from Calum, imagining I would have had the guts to walk in and help him finish his job. Who knows, maybe he would’ve thought more of me than just the best girl friend of his mate Luke, and saw me as the willing, burning woman I am. Burning for him.

I would’ve pushed Calum down, lying flat against his soft duvet, my hands roaming over his tan, toned and tattooed torso. My nails would scratch lightly across the skin, drawing a low, strangled moan from those plump pink lips. I’d let my own lips trail along his defined jaw, slithering down as I followed the path my hands had made with the tip of my tongue.

I’d rid him of his short within a second, displaying his thick, pre cum dripping erection for my wandering and lustful eyes. I’d toy with him for a moment, touching every piece of inflamed skin along the point of interest before granting it with the attention he deserves. I don’t think I could hold myself back long before I’d want to taste him. The tip of my tongue slowly dragging along his shaft before I’d take the swollen head past my lips.

He’d groan and fumble underneath me, his fingers slipping through my hair to grasp it tightly between his long, slender fingers. It would draw a moan from my own lips, the vibrations sending him even closer to the edge. He’d pull me back up so our lips could meet in a hungry, desperate kiss, teeth clashing together as our tongues would meet in an internal battle.

I’d rub my wet, slick core along his shaft, the friction making me moan loudly against his already swollen lips. It wouldn’t take long for me to reach my orgasm, head thrown back in pure bliss as I rode Calum, nails digging into his hips.. “Oh” I let a tiny sound leave my lips as I involuntarily buck my hips towards my own hand, my imagination full on the loose. But fairy tales don’t last long in this shithole.

“Y/n! Fucking hurry up I need to shower too the party is starting in an hour.” Calum loud voice booms through the small bathroom, his fist banging rhythmically against the closed door. “Fuck off Cal!” I groan, biting my lip as I try to push myself over the edge in record speed.

“If you don’t cut the water now I’ll come do it myself!” He threatens and a small breath leaves my lips, something resembling a laugh following suit after.

I groan when I realize the moment has passed, even though the source of my wet dreams is right on the other side of the door. My hands leave my slit immediately when the door swings open and a loud shriek leaves my lips.

“Calum what the fuck! You mental shithead!”

Right now I am very grateful for the curtain that is still separating us, although that barrier soon disappears as his hand appears and switches the water off.

It disappears and returns with a towel dangling from his slender fingers, my own roughly pulling it from his grasp.

“I told you I would.” Calum grins when I rudely yank the shower curtain to the side, seeing that smug bitch standing there with his arms crossed. “A girl can’t even get some privacy in this joint.” I mumble underneath my breath as I feel my cheeks heat up. Not only from the orgasm I was so rudely deprived from, but also from Calum standing here in just his black, tight boxer briefs.

“Is there something wrong? You know it’s a joke right?” I almost flinch when Calum’s fingertips brush along my droplet filled shoulder, my hands clutching the towel to my chest. “I was just thinking, and you caught me off guard.” I grant him with a weak smile but I receive a wicked grin in return along with that up to no good glint in his eye.

“I’m sure it was more than thinking, wasn’t it?” My eyes widen drastically and I realize I have been caught in the act - sort of.

“You’re a horny bastard, Cal.” I growl towards him as I push past him to get dressed in my own privacy of my bedroom, but I am stopped by his large arm. “Make sure you get the tension off of your shoulders, Y/n. Would be a shame if it ruined the party for you.” Calum winks and I slap his chest as a scoff leaves my lips. Maybe I can use his needs against him tonight.

I hope you like it, please let me know!
Lots of love,
L. xox

kaisoo real couple plaids and outfits theory 161016

First of all it started with this, when ji wore plaids/checkered as well. That day, they went to the movies, them alone, if i remembered correctly, I believe this date is close to Valentines day as well. Cute.

Now look at these are kaisoo’s iconic moments, and notice this, at least one of them is always wearing plaids / checkered.

One can argue that ‘its a photoshoot they are wardrobed by staffs’ and you are very right but that doesn’t take away the fact that kaisoo wore plaids when kaisoo happened. kaisoo x plaids has been established before kxk, and it is possible that kaisoo notices this?

Because there are many other incidences where kaisoo happened when there is plaid. Remember when ji hosted a radio? That day he called himself kai-d (j) (sounds like kadi) and he was wearing plaids as well. 160705

And also the infamous kaisoo private fan meeting. Remember the very first flower crown moment, ksoo was wearing plaid once again. (This meeting is also somehow private, why must it be so secretive when its something concerned of kaisoo being together)

—-

Moving on, Kaisoo can match clothes once and it could be coincidence, but they didnt only match once, they matched plaids many times in the airport.

Plaids is a kaisoo thing ever since those iconic photos, So why did they choose to SUDDENLY match plaids, out of all pattern after april 1st?

Lets go to their airport fashion, ex o is a mature group, i doubt they are 100% controlled by their stylists. And kaisoo matched clothes several times as well.

Here are some examples of kaisoo matching plaids.

- 160812 plaid shirts

- 160824, again, kaisoo wearing the white undershirt, the same mask and both unbuttoned their shirts. Also notice these two dates are quite close, you really think these are only coincidences? It looks planned to me, but maybe it could be coincidence?

- moving on to the third time, 160930. This day is important, because I noticed something curious

And now take a look at ksoo, his shirt size is way too big for the shirt to be his.

He didn’t roll up his sleeves, which is so long its way past his hands, and he doesn’t tuck his shirt in as well. We can notice easily that this shirt bigger than his usual shirts. That shirt is sizes bigger than him yes? I really wonder if that shirt is his..

now look at ji

doesn’t his shirt look a bit too tight? Compare this shirt with other pics like the ones I posted above, ji’s shirts are not usually this tight.

Kaisoo wore these shirts together to the airport.  ksoo wore a size too big and ji a size too small. Did they wear each other’s clothes? It could be done on purpose, I don’t believe in coincidences, not when it occurs repeatedly

- next outfit, also a very strange day. 160909. This is the day when dispatch took this picture

Why is this important? Well their outfit.

You see the green pants soo wear? Then the navy blue shirt ji wore? The navy blue shirt actually is 90% similar, if not exactly the same with the navy shirt soo wore WITH HIS GREEN PANTS during hats on fansign.

We all know hats on fansign is special, bc its one of the minimal fansigns/meetings kaisoo attended together. And what a strange coincidence that media, and hats on themselves also posted a pic of kaisoo on 160528:

So strange… dispatch posted pics of them with that outfit, while media and hats on posted a pic of ksoo wearing that outfit before…. Do we really think this is coincidence? I can tell you the media definitely knows btw.

Next, to a more recent event.

Ji wore checkered / plaid when he did his Vapp on 161012 at midnight. (so its in dark AM)

That night ksoo was in japan, and ji didn’t see ksoo for a few days. Coincidence again? But this is not it, bc look:

This is ksoo on 161012 morning AFTER Vapp. He wore a plaid shirt underneath his jacket. Maybe ksoo watched ji’s vapp broadcast? coincidence again… Maybe kaisoo is showing us something who knows.

And here is DMC rehearsal, where ji once again wore blue plaid. A few hours after this, ksoo returned. coincidence again?

So why is it always plaids when smth kaisoo related happen? Notice All these couple outfits though. Tell me, are we sure these are only coincidences? The point is, I can’t but notice these vague correlation between plaids patterning and all these kaisoo related occurrences…  

And lastly, this is just another example of kaisoo matching colour code clothes after kxk, and after sooxothers ships. kaisoo don’t only match plaids, but the thing with plaid is too much coincidence.

So is kaisoo actually making a statement that they are still going strong especially after kxk?

Besides, Why does it have to be them? Why do these coincidences have to revolve around kaisoo? bc If kaisoo is fake, the two people matching plaids and checkered wont be kaisoo, it could be, who knows. Ksoo x leo for example. Or ji x leetue k lmao?

Shippers didnt make these up, kaisoo themselves did.

Ps this theory aimed to target on plaids only as these are the most obvious clothes matching events I discovered. Also yes other boys do wear plaids too, its certainly a popular pattern but I am only pointing out these coincidences as an eye opener.

A THEORY IS DEFINED AS AN IDEAS that are TRANSLATED FROM MY BRAIN TO A TUMBLR POST. I declare nothing as Facts. This is only made for fun and help spark ideas of your own.

So yes everyone, have fun shipping! Kaisoo has been showing us they are still okay and going strong all throughout 2016, not only through couple clothes. So why should we give up? Stay strong KD!

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Post is edited 2017

Fic: As a Door Closes

Here is the latest part of my Heartlines AU story. I hope you all enjoy it.

The rest of the chapters (and my other work) can be found here 

As always I’d love to know what you think.

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Originally posted by jlbwedding


She opened the door and Jamie was speechless. Claire was always beautiful, more than beautiful, but looking at her right now he simply could not formulate thoughts into speech. She wore a tight fitted black sequinned gown with a high neck and capped sleeves. A slit ran up one side revealing an expanse of creamy leg and strappy silver sandals. But her head was the biggest shock. Normally Claire favoured natural looking makeup, muted tones in browns and greys, her hair either haphazardly restrained or a riot of curls which grazed her shoulders. But today she looked entirely different, her whiskey coloured eyes looked even more tigerish with an application of flicked up eyeliner and her lips were an enticing cranberry red. Her hair, normally such a riot, fell in sleek, smooth waves down to her breasts. She looked at him shyly. “What do you think?” She gave him a little swirl revealing a low back. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly and she laughed. “Oh good, you like it!” He watched her sashay down the path towards the waiting car, swallowing audibly.

The event was a combination of wealthy donors, local businessmen and hospital staff. As it happened, because of this Jamie knew at least as many people as Claire and he was kept more than busy shaking hands, answering queries about Lallybroch and talking shop. Claire moved round the room, chatting, smiling and generally trying to encourage the great and good in attendance to cough up some money to help refurb the ailing pediatrics wing. Prior to choosing General Surgery Claire had rotated through the department and had been sorely tempted by a career in that speciality. As it was she had gone another way, but she was often called upon by the department when a general surgeon was needed and she had campaigned passionately for the wing in its bid to upgrade its facilities. Jamie watched her work the room. Her smile was simply radiant. He was struck again by his sheer fortune that such a wonderful woman was his. His pride in her and her achievements was endless and to see her here, tonight, amongst her peers, he thought his heart would burst with it. He lost sight of her for a moment and he scanned the room, his height giving his an advantage. She popped up beside him holding two glasses of champagne. “I managed to charm these out the waiter. He didn’t want to give me any as they are having terrible trouble rounding everyone up to go into dinner” Her face was flushed slightly from the champagne and it gave her a glow that made her look even more lovely. She hooked an arm through his. “I forgot to ask. What happened to the kilt I was promised?” Instead of the aforementioned kilt, Jamie was wearing a bright blue three piece suit. Single breasted with a sharp white shirt and blue tie he looked magnificent amongst the sea of black tuxedos, his red hair and towering height making him stand out even further. “Well, the last time I wore a kilt to an event like this I spent half the night bein’ asked what I wore underneath it an’ the other half fending off women tryna find out for themselves. I figured I’d save myself the bother this time” he laughed. “Are ye disappointed?”

“Well, a little bit,” she answered tilting her head to one side to look at him. “But on the other hand you look sexy as hell in that suit, so I can’t complain too much can I?” She gave him a lewd wink which made them both laugh and he drew her to him and kissed her on her forehead.

“And you, Mo Nighean Donn,” He said, “I canna begin to say how wonderful you look. Ye’re always the most beautiful woman in the room, but tonight, well, I keep having to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.” Her colour heightened a little more, but her response was cut off by the the boom of the ever jocular chief of surgery.

“Claire, Claire. I hardly recognised you without your scrubs and cap! Isn’t it fun trying to spot everyone in their civvies?”

He kissed her lightly on the cheek and she turned to introduce Jamie. He shook Jamie’s hand warmly.

“This is Dr Grant, our chief, this is Jamie, my…” she paused slightly as she cast around for the right title. They’d only know each other three weeks and whilst what they had was clearly serious, they’d not yet gotten round to defining it in any way. “…my partner” she settled for, looking at Jamie meaningfully.

“Partner,”  he thought “Aye, that’ll do for now, but one day…”

This thought was abruptly cut short, by Dr Grant turing behind him and pulling forward a couple about Jamie and Claire’s age. “This is my nephew, David.” He said smiling broadly, “He’s a property developer. And this is his fiancee, Geneva.”

Jamie felt the heat rise in his face and Claire coughed slightly as she took a too big gulp of champagne. Geneva’s chestnut hair was swept back from her face and she wore a flowing tulle gown with a slight princess skirt in a soft blush pink. She also wore a very large, if conventional, diamond which she had not been wearing the last time the three of them had come face to face. She looked ethereal and stunning. She also looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, clearly not enjoying this impromptu reunion any more than Claire and Jamie. David, a handsome man, with dark hair a soft brown eyes, also appeared somewhat discomfited by this meeting. He may or may not have been aware of the show down in Jamie’s living room, but it was obvious he knew who Jamie was. He moved slightly closer to Geneva, placing a hand around her waist. Claire recovered herself first.

“Oh how lovely. And what a beautiful ring. Have you set a date?” The corner of Geneva’s mouth lifted slightly as she answered. “Oh, not yet, but we’re hoping for next summer. We only got engaged last week, didn’t we darling?’ She turned to David. “Oh, yes, just last week” he replied. Dr Grant laughed loudly digging poor David in the side. “But how many times did ye have to ask the lass? What was it four times before she finally said yes to you?” David smiled blandly, Jamie developed an acute interest in the pattern on the carpet. Thankfully the waiting staff took that moment to get assertive and they were promptly rounded up and herded into the ballroom.

Fortunately, Dr Grant’s table was over near the front of the room, whilst Jamie and Claire, along with a host of other hospital staff were tucked away near the back.

“Keeping us hidden” said Geillis, archly, flipping red hair over her shoulder. “But still, least we’re much nearer the bar here” She waved a red nailed hand in the direction of a waiter beckoning him over. Next to her, her new boyfriend, Josh sat looking slightly bemused and very much under her spell. Jamie was thrilled to at last have a chance to meet all the friends that Claire had regaled him with stories of. Her friend Joe Abernathy, who had transferred here from Boston, the indomitable Mrs Fitz, who despite clearly having a first name, no one called anything else, including her husband a jocular highlander with a big laugh who had clearly not suffered the same concerns as Jamie as he wore a kilt in eye catching MacKenzie tartan. Timid little Mary who spoke quietly but after a few drinks it turned out had a fondness for rude jokes and a huge dirty laugh. These were the people who he knew were important to Claire. As someone with no blood ties, this was the closest she had to real family and he was acutely aware of what it meant that she had wanted him here, with her and them tonight. The night was a lot more fun than he had expected. He found that he had an easy rapport with Claire’s friends who made him welcome, and with the exception of Geillis, who Claire had warned him about, none of them felt the need to grill him too intently. They danced until Claire begged for mercy, her high heels finally getting the better of her. Moving off to the side he drew her close and kissed her deeply. “Shall we go home now, Mo Nighean Donn?” he murmured into her ear.

“Oh yes” she replied. “I might not be getting the chance to find out what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, but I’m still pretty interested in what might be going on under that suit” She tugged his earlobe gently with her teeth and he gave a shudder. “I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then we’ll leave”

He waited across the hall for Claire, fiddling with his phone. A blur of pink caught the corner of his eye as the statuesque figure of his ex wife strode purposefully into the bathroom in which Claire had just entered.

Claire had been in there for a while. So had Geneva. He’d seen David go by looking for her, but offered no information. He stared at the door willing it to open and for Claire to come out. He couldn’t hear any shouting. Or screaming. That was something he supposed. Surely if something terrible was happening he’d hear it. But still what were they both doing in there. The door opened and Geneva exited, catching Jamie’s eyes briefly. He tried to make out the expression behind them, but she was gone too quickly. Another minute later, the door opened again this time bringing Claire with it.

Jamie’s eyebrows were almost under his hairline. “And what was that about? Should I be worried? She’s no been telling you what a terrible man I am has she?”

Claire laughed at Jamie was surprised to feel his heart and stomach both unclench a little. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you everything”

She sat facing him on the sofa in her living room. She’d kicked off her heels in the hall and her hair was starting to kink slightly.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be too concerned with Geneva from now on Jamie. We had a good chat and I think things are going to be ok on that front.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? We’ve been seperated for over 4 years and she turned up at my house because she’d heard I’d been kissing someone. She’s no exactly rational.”

“No really, Jamie. Just listen”

As Claire had stepped out of the cubicle she had walked straight into Geneva.  Dodging round her to wash her hands, she had become aware of the fact that Geneva was clearly there to speak with her. She waited for a beat.

“C..Claire?” Geneva began unsteadily, clearly searching for the words. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For the other day. It was, it was… unacceptable.” Claire opened her mouth to respond but Geneva raised her hand imploring to be allowed to continue. Claire nodded.

“Jamie was right. It was pride. I was so angry with him. For so long. I felt cheated by him. When we got married I wanted it to be a certain way. But it wasn’t. So I tried to change him. To make him into what I wanted him to be, rather than simply accepting that he wasn’t what I wanted any more than I was what he wanted. And he, being the honourable man he is left. He couldn’t live a lie, he couldn’t be less than his true self. And I was so angry. For almost 5 years it’s eaten away at me. He’s the only thing I’ve ever failed at. That I haven’t been able to bend to my will as it were. And so I couldn’t let go. Even after I met David, who is everything I was looking for in my marriage to Jamie and couldn’t find, I still didn’t let go. I didn’t let Jamie go. I knew, deep down that he would feel the weight of the failure of our marriage whether it was his fault or not and I used that to hurt him. Whilst I was living my life and being happy elsewhere, and Jamie was right about that, David does make me happy, I kept on punishing him. And all because I couldn’t admit failure. When my friend called me and told me she’d seen the two of you. I don’t know what came over me. It was like all the anger and bitterness of the last four years were just poured over my head. I wanted to rip my skin off with it. But I saw then , the way he looked at you. The way he never, ever looked at me. But I do have someone who looks at me like that. David has been asking me to marry him for years and I’ve always said no. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t bear for Jamie to feel like he had permission to move on. And I’m sorry. I’m so very fucking sorry.” The profanity seemed out of place coming out of the mouth of one so perfectly coiffed and softly spoken. She seemed a different person to the wild eyed, object flinging woman of only a few weeks earlier. She looked at her hands and adjusted her ring.

“Tell Jamie.” She looked Claire in the eye. “Tell him I’m sorry. For all of it. And that I wish him… I wish him joy.” Claire nodded slowly and Geneva smiled, tears in her eyes. Claire unthinkingly reached out a hand and Geneva took it squeezing her fingers slightly. She nodded stiffly and in turned and was gone in a swish of pink tulle and chanel No 5. Claire stood there for a moment, wondering if that had really happened. She took a deep breath and went back to join Jamie.

“So she really said all that?’ Jamie asked incredulous. He had known Geneva a long time and whilst he knew she did have her virtues he wasn’t sure magnanimity had ever been one of them.

“She did” Claire replied nodding. “Whether she meant it, I guess only time will tell, but she seemed genuine” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can put it behind us though. I’m glad that *you* can move on with your life now.

“Aye, aye I can” he met her eyes and held her gaze, reaching for her hand as he did so. “And I so what you to be part of that life, Claire. Next weekend, I ken ye’re off work until Wednesday, will ye come to the Highlands wi me? To Lallybroch?” Nerves were making his accent thicker.

“Jamie, I honestly cannot think of a nicer way to spend my time off.” He smiled a smile of such joy that he looked, for a moment like a small boy. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “But right now I want to find out what a scotsman wears under his suit.”

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw
  • A.N. Jason's significant other finds out Jason is back from the dead. hilarity ensues. inspired by an ask on @uncpanda
  • “well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.”
  • That was all you could say when faced with the person in front of you eating the banana bread you had made earlier that night. You heard Alfred yell at you from the other room. Something about being ladylike and swearing, you loved the guy you’d think he’d be more forgiving considering your dead boyfriend, your un-dead boyfriend was eating your food.
  • “sorry Alfred.” You called. You stared at the person in front of you, he was leaning against the (expensive, custom made, Italian) granite counter top shoveling the remainder of your baked good into his mouth. Crumbs dribbled down his now strong jawline, his more green than blue eyes stared into your (e/C) orbs with a mix of fear, nervousness, happiness and sheer confusion. You put your hand on your hips looking up at the taller man who had just been a boy when he ha been taken away. A smirk found it’s way to his face and he reached out to pull you into hug. You accepted the hug.
  • “Oh hay bab-“ he was trying to press his lips against your jawline, you placed your hands in between you and his lips as a barrier.
  • “don’t ‘Hey babe’ me Jason Peter Todd. You faked your death for five years, didn’t tell me, ate all of my banana bread and you told literally everyone else in the family except your romantic partner. Oh excuse me former significant other and ex-fiance. Couldn’t you at least have had the decency to warn me? Or tell me? Why did you tell him and not me.” Your finger jabbed at his chest as your venomous words poured out. Each question grew in coldness. You pulled off your simple engagement ring and through it at his chest. It bounced off and rolled to the floor. After you were done there was a silence shared between the two of you as the iciness of your words and actions settled
  • “(y/n) I ca-“ before he could explain you spun on your heels. He followed you out of the kitchen and into the living room attempting to explain himself. He grabbed your wrist, you spun around and grabbed the nearest item. Which happened to be a vase filled with lilies and water and dumped the contents on you on him. you then flung the vase at a the wall (narrowly) missing Jason’s head as it smashed against the wall.
  • “that’s for my banana bread you bastard.” You yelled as you stormed away leaving the black haired man in a puddle of water and trampled flowers.
  • Bruce found you in the batcave reading photo albums in a pile of used tissues and chocolate wrappers. He sat down next to you and carefully moved the stack of photo albums next to him.
  • “so Alfred told you.” You sniffled as you pulled your legs up to your chest.
  • “actually no, the shouting, broken ming dynasty vase and a wet Jason lead me into the direction that you had.”
  • “sorry about the vase.” You murmured into your knees not meeting your mentor’s gaze.
  • “it’s okay, I can get another one. Its one of the perks of being a multi-billionaire.” He winked at you in a succeeded attempt to cheer you up. “you know he actually did die, he was actually dead. The joker did murder him and we did bury Jason. It was Ra’s who brought him back using the pit.” You sat up straight, stared at him your hands balled up taking your shirt in your hands in an attempt to keep your fists from shaking. Tears began to well up in your eyes threatening to pool over your (s/t) cheeks.
  • “How long?”
  • “what?”
  • “how long have you known?” your voice was slipping into the same cold tone from before.
  • “Three months.” Bruce said sheepishly refusing to meet your gaze. You let out a small chuckle.
  • “looks like everyone in this family knew that my boyfriend has been alive for three months except me.”
  • “if it helps Barbara slapped him.”
  • “it doesn’t but thanks for the sentiment. How did you find out?” you had a small smile on your face as you stared at your father figure.
  • “You know the Red Hood?” Bruce asked as he rested his hands in his lap.”Well, while you were away in Europe three months ago on that mission for Barbara we caught him red handed-“
  • “pun intended?” you asked grinning. He nodded and continued with his story.
  • “he told us not to tell you because he wanted to do it himself. He wanted to apologize and woo you, his words not mine. I was so overwhelmed by having him back I never questioned it. I loved having my son back, I should have understood that you would want to have his lover back too. (y/n), Jason loves you, so please give him a chance to redeem himself. Please give me a chance to redeem myself.” Bruce’s words were gentle as he took your hand and placed your ring in the palm of your hand.
  • “Thanks Bruce” you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The two of you stood up and parted ways. Him to wherever the hell Bruce spends his free time that wasn’t the bat cave and you to Jason’s room. You opened the door to the room that had been left in almost museum-esque condition after his death. There you found Jason asleep on the almost bed that had been too large for sixteen year old Jason and now seemed like a doll bed for the new man. There were tear marks on his cheeks and a few new scars. His face seemed older, more worn, more scarred. You ran your fingers through his hair playing with the new white streak that according to Bruce had been a product of the Lazarus pit. He needed to touch up his roots, the strawberry blonde was sticking out from underneath the dark hair. You ran your fingers down his forehead, down his face, you touched his jaw. His stubble stabbed your soft thumbs.
  • Your hands ran down his neck, down his chest to the ‘Y’ shaped scar across his bare chest. You gently touched the white scar tissue, he stirred before his eyes flashed open. He grabbed your wrist before he was able to register who it was.
  • “(y/n)”. you nodded. You stared at him, he loosed the grip on your wrist not meeting your gaze. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Tears pricked your vision as both of you sat there gripping each other like you could be ripped apart at any moment.
  • “I love you.”
  • “I love you too.” And then he kissed you. It was a slow Hollywood kiss, corny and gentle. He pulled away and then nestled his nose into your (color) hair.”you changed your shampoo.” He murdered as he breathed in, you nodded.
  • “hey babe, I’m sor-“ you cut him off with a feverish kiss. It was rough and passionate, you straddled him as you carefully held his hand in yours. You pulled away breathing heavily.
  • “Shush, Bruce explained everything.” You kissed him again, it was slower but still passionate. And then suddenly clothes were coming off and kisses were being shared under the covers.
  • He held you in his scar littered arms, your breathing matched eachother’s. your arms wrapped around his well defined waist as you both stared at each other (e/c) meeting aqua eyes. Both of you were smiling like idiots, like nothing was wrong.
  • “you kept the ring.”
  • “yeah, it felt wrong to get rid of it, to love someone else. To finally let you go, to finally except that you were actually gone.” He pulled you closer.
  • “I’m sorry I had to leave. But I’m back now and that’s what matters.”
  • “I’m glad you’re back.” You nudged your nose against his chest.”so Red Hood?” you teased.
  • “Yeah.” He grinned back.” I thought it was ironic. You know? Taking on the mantle of the man who killed me. Also aren’t you a little young to be making 80s chic flick references” He said with a wink.
  • “We’re literally the same fucking age Todd, also Heathers is a cinematic masterpiece. But seriously this explains the flirting. I was honestly starting to get freaked out that murderous, mentally unhinged, vigilante actually had a thing for me.” You said with a smirk.
  • “He does” Jason pressed a sloppy, wet kiss against your cheek.
  • “you know what I mean.” You teased back playfully swatting at him.” but I guess you can’t resist me”
  • “what can I say I’m a sucker for (h/c) haired cuties in skintight costumes with daddy issues and a thing for orphans” You said as he rubbed his freckled nose against your neck affectionately.
  • “You’re supposed to be my lover, not an asshole”
  • ”I can be both. Ready for round two?” he said with a smirk his green-y blue eyes clouded over with lust.
  • “only if you bake me a replacement banana bread. I needed that for a meeting I have tomorrow.”
  • “don’t talk about work when I’m about to make love to you, you moron. Also consider it done” Jason said as he kissed you.
A little less conversation, more action needed Pt 1

A/N this is a continuation of a lesson in frustration. Once again requested by some of my great followers. Hope you like it guys. Definately gets nasty from the get go so 18 plus 

Alec and Magnus stood arms wrapped around each other, just simply looking into each other’s eyes. The embarrassing incident that had only happened just moments ago temporarily forgotten.

Alec bent his head to place his lips to Magnus’s and was rewarded with a heated kiss back. He moved his hands from his hips to move inside the robe’s opening, groaning as he felt Magnus’ warm skin under them. Alec felt the warlock press closer to his body, his fingers digging into the material of his jacket and shirt underneath. Magnus started working the clothing loose to get to Alec’ bare body and once he found it, worked his  hands down to slide his fingers under the waistband of his jeans. Alec felt himself starting to lengthen and unconsciously gave a small thrust forward trying to find that delicious friction. He felt Magnus moan against his lips and then give a gasp as Alec moved his hands further around and squeezed the top of his firm butt cheeks. Alec felt himself being forced back against the wall next to the door with a hard thud, Magnus jamming himself into him, his own arousal pushing into the front of his jeans.

From somewhere in the distance, they could hear voices calling their names. Just as Magnus was about to start undoing the button on his jeans, through the haze of his lust filled mind he heard Jace call his name and felt a knock coming from the door next to them. Damn! They’d completely forgotten the other out in the hall way! He grabbed Magnus’ hands as they just started undoing his zipper.

“Hey, Babe, we forgot something. Mum and the others are still out in the hallway. We have to stop. Now” his breathing was deep and panting and Magnus looked to be in the same agony he was. Magnus sighed and gave him a pained look before leaning his head on his chest, feeling Alec’s rapid breathing.

“can’t we just send them home?”

“’no, I don’t think so. Come on, get some clothes on and we will try to calm down enough to open the door before Jace kicks it in. I love you, you know, so much” he put a finger under Magnus’ chin and gently tilted his face to his, kissing him softly. At least it was soft on his part but Magnus wanted more. Alec felt a laugh behind their joined lips and took his face in his hands and eased him back.

“for someone who has had more experience at this than anyone, you sure are out of control” he said softly, looking into Magnus’ pained face.

“Its all you Alexander. I’ve never known love like this before. It’s a new thing for me too. I have to admit it scares me to think how powerless I am around you, you have completely under your control. I love you too, my beautiful boy. Come on, we’d better let the others in. Are you ok enough to do that?” he looked down between them and saw that there was still a sizable bulge in Alec’ jeans. He smiled and then grabbing his shirt pulled it out of the waistband so it hung loosely over his jeans.

“there, much better” He stepped away and with a click of blue flame the robe was replaced with a dress shirt and black pants. He was still flushed though, they both were.

Out in the hall way, Jace, Clary, Izzy and Maryse were pacing up and down. Jace had his ear to the door, his hearing rune activated.

“what are they saying? Are they arguing or anything?” Clary asked. A slow smile curved jace’s lips and his eyebrows shot up to his hair line.

“Yeah we could be out here a while” he said.

“why? Are they getting into it that badly?” Clary said.

“Oh they’re getting into it alright, just not the way you think”

Maryse made a surprised noise and had stopped walking.

“This is probably my fault for walking in and interrupting them yesterday. I had forgotten what it was like to be young and in love” she told them.

“young? Magnus is what, 400 years old? That’s not young.” Jace reminded her.

“Magnus is immortal, it doesn’t count, and he doesn’t look 400 years old either” Izzy said. “have you two forgotten what you were like when you got back together after finding out that you weren’t brother and sister? I thought we would have to get you surgically separated”

Clary blushed, but managed to give Jace a quick smile before she looked to the floor.

Jace as usual just took the statement on the chin and kept going.

“That was different we were making up for lost time.” He grumbled.

“What do you think Magnus is doing? The poor guy has been in a sexual drought for over 100 years, how would you feel if it was you and you finally score yourself a 6 foot 3 hulking young Shadowhunter? I’d climb that man like a tree”

“Isabelle Lightwood! I don’t want to hear something like that again thank you” Maryse said, frowning at her.

Jace leaned with his back against the door but he looked uncomfortable doing it. Every now and then he  winced like someone was poking him with a sharp object.

“what’s wrong? Why are you making those faces?” Clary asked him, then realisation dawned on her face. “Oh, oh my, well, if you can hear them then deactivate your rune”

“Its not the hearing rune it’s the parabatai one. He’s doing it again, lighting it up like a God damn Christmas tree. Agh! I’ve had it, how long are they gonna make us wait? I’m starving” He turned back to the door and started knocking hard.

“Alec! Come on man, keep it in your pants so we can come in will ya? I’m starving” he yelled at the door. He stared at the door and when nothing happened after a minute or two, he tried it again.

“Alec! Magnus! Zip it up guys, come on”

Another minute passed and Jace was just about to try again when they heard the door open. Even though they were both trying to look casual, like nothing had been going on, it was painfully obvious from the way both of them looked thatsomething had been going on. Alec’ face was flushed, colour high on his cheeks, his eyes were bright and shiny as well as his shirt being untucked. He never wore an untucked shirt. Magnus had swapped his robe for a loose fitting shirt and close fitting black pants and boots. He too had colour to his tanned skin and the biggest tell was the appearance of his demon mark eyes, glowing  smouldering amber. Alec noticed and after pointing to his own eyes, Magnus glamoured them away. Jace entered first.

“So, bro, scratch that itch that’s been worrying you all day?” he said to Alec as he passed him, with a suggestive wink. Alec gave him a sour look.

“Why is my sex life so open to discussion all the time? It can’t be that interesting” He grumbled.

“Man, thanks to our parabatai bond I get a front seat. You make it hard to ignore. Haven’t you reached saturation point yet?”

Alec looked down at his feet then back up to Jace, a smile on his face.

“I don’t think that’s ever going to happen, sorry  man” he said, sheepishly.

“Argh! Something to look forward to!” he walked off towards the living room.

Magnus noticed his grin and gave him a questioning look but he just shook his head.

“tell you later” Alec said.

A/N - i have started the process to get an ao3 account so all these will be on there soon. 

My Savior - part 3

Ruby’s knife can kill demons, but it can’t kill her. After surviving being almost killed by the Winchesters, hiding from demons for hundreds of years, and finally having her memories stolen and given a chance at a new life, she’s left with instructions to find the Winchesters. She doesn’t remember them. But oh boy, do they remember her.

Pairing: Sam x Ruby

Word Count: 6,750

Warnings: canon divergence (season 11), SMUT, angst, night fears, brief anxiety attack, fluff

Send a message or leave a comment when you reblog! Feedback is appreciated!

A/N: parts in French are in italics, I didn’t feel like translating XD

My Savior masterpost



Sam told her about the life, hunting, to be more specific. He was very careful to omit her previous role in his life when he told her exactly why they’d ended up where they currently were. He told her about Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, why they did what they did and the history of the Men of Letters bunker.

Ruby sat still the entire time, absorbing every word he uttered. When Sam was finished, she took a deep breath, and he half expected her to tell him off for joking around, telling her lies, but he could see on her face that somehow, she believed him.

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