The decision to learn a foreign language is to me an act of friendship. It is indeed a holding out of the hand. It’s not just a route to negotiation. It’s also to get to know you better, to draw closer to you and your culture, your social manners and your way of thinking.
[Teaching] a foreign language is an act of commitment, generosity and mediation.
It’s a promise to educate – yes – and to equip. But also to awaken; to kindle a flame that you hope will never go out; to guide your pupils towards insights, ideas and revelations that they would never have arrived at
“I have for the first time found what I can truly love — I have found you. You are my sympathy — my better self — my good angel — I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you — and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Kageyama asked impatiently, interrupting Shouyou’s panicked thoughts. “Let me see your face.”
And then he reached out, grabbing Shouyou by the chin with a strong hand, forcing him to tilt his head upwards.
And Shouyou met his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was that he had been wrong, about Kageyama’s eyes. They were dark, yes, a shade of blue so deep it was almost black. But they weren’t cold.
They were instead like the kindling for a flame, intense and boring straight into Shouyou, lighting him from the inside out.
The second thing he noticed (or perhaps the third, after the strong brows and full lips and straight, statuesque nose) was that Kageyama was staring back at him with the same expression Shouyou was sure was on his own face.
Lightning leaps from y our outstretched hand, weaving safely through your allies to slam into your foes.
You may use an action to cause lightning to arc out from you, strike a number of creatures equal to your Intelligence Modifier (Minimum of 1).
The Target must make a Dexterity Saving Throw (DC 11) or suffer 1d6 + your Intelligence Modifier in Lightning Damage. On a Successful Save, the Target takes half damage.
1st Level Evocation
Casting Time: 1 action Components: V, S Duration: Instantaneous
A lingering swarm of ice crystals chills foes to the bone.
You create a 20-foot-radius circle of serrated, needle-like ice shards. Any enemy who attempts to move closer to you takes Your Intelligence Modifier in Cold Damage.
Additionally, until the end of your next turn, any enemy in a 20ft Radius takes Disadvantage to attack rolls.
1st Level Necromancy
Casting Time: 1 bonus action Range: Self Components: V Duration:
Concentration, up to 1 minute
Your shadow lengthens and grows, looming over your enemies and overcoming them with dread.
Each Target of Your choice that is within Line of Sight and aware of you must succeed on a DC 12 Wisdom saving throw or take 1d10 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Necrotic Damage, and the target is slowed until the end of your next turn.
Additionally, on each of your turns for the duration, you can use your bonus action to deal Necrotic Damage equal to your Wisdom Modifier to any Target already effected by the Spell.
1st Level Evocation
Casting Time: 1 bonus action Range: Touch Components: V Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
You kindle a massive, sudden flame within your enemy. The fires burn your foe and spill out to singe any who are near it.
The Target takes 1d10 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Fire Damage, and any Creature that ends its turn adjacent to the Target before the end of the Target’s next turn takes Fire Damage equal to Your Intelligence Modifier.
Fountain of flame
1st Level Evocation
Casting Time: 1 action Range: 50 feet Components: V, S Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
You weave a fiery pillar that spins like a top. With each revolution, it douses your enemies with searing heat.
A burst of fire creates a 20ft. Radius zone that lasts until the end of the encounter.
Any creature within the Radius of the burst must make a Dexterity Saving Throw (DC 13) or take 3d8 +
Your Intelligence Modifier in Fire Damage.
Any enemy that enters the zone or ends its turn there takes 5 fire damage. An enemy can take this damage only once per turn.
1st Level Illusion
Casting Time: 1 action Range: 50 feet Components: V, S
At your command, shadows reach out, grab hold of your foes, and wreathe the area in darkness.
A burst of darkness creates a 15ft. Radius zone
of writhing shadows that lasts until the end of your next turn.
Any creature within the Radius of the burst must make a Dexterity Saving Throw (DC 13) or take
1d8 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Psychic Damage, and be Slowed until the end of your next turn.
Each creature that enters the zone takes psychic damage equal to Your Intelligence Modifier and is Slowed until the end of its next turn. A creature can take this damage only once per turn.
1st Level Illusion
Casting Time: 1 action Range: 15 feet Components: V, S
You create an illusion of swirling spectral assailants that swarm over your enemy.
You choose One Target within Range, the Target is then swarmed by swirling spectral shadows.
The Target takes 1d6 Psychic Damage and the Target takes Disadvantage to Attack Rolls until the end of your next turn.
1st Level Necromancy
Casting Time: 1 action Range:50 feet Components: V, S
You hold up your hand, palm out, and release pale wisps to infect your foes with horrid decay.
You choose a Single Target in Range. The Target must make a DC 13 Constitution Saving Throw. On a Failure, the Target takes 1d8 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Necrotic Damage, and the Target cannot regain hit points until the end of your next turn.
On a Success the Target takes half Damage.
1st Level Necromancy
Casting Time:1 action Range:15 feet Components: V, S
You blast an area, drawing resolve from your foes until they shrink back in abject terror.
You send out a blast with a 15ft. radius, centered on yourself, in all directions. Each Creature caught in the blast must make a DC 12 Wisdom Saving Throw or take 1d8 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Psychic Damage, or half as much on a Successful Save.
Additionally, any Creature which fails its Saving Throw cannot make opportunity attacks against you until the end of your next turn.
1st Level Evocation
Casting Time:1 action Range:50 feet Components: V, S
You tap your staff on the ground, and Acid boils up to envelop your Target in a caustic haze.
You choose a Single Target in Range. The Target must make a DC 13 Dexterity Saving Throw or be enveloped by the boiling Acid at their feet.
On a Failure, the Target takes 1d6 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Acid Damage. Until the end of your next turn, Creatures more than 25ft away from the Target have Half Cover against it.
1st Level Transmutation
Casting Time: 1 action Range: 50 feet Components: V, S Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
Your enemy’s blood hardens, slowing its movement and causing excruciating pain.
You send out a blast with a 20ft. radius, centered on yourself, in all directions. Each Creature caught in the blast must make a DC 12 Constitution Saving Throw or take 1d6 + Your Intelligence Modifier in Damage, or half as much on a Successful Save.
On a Failure, the Target
is slowed until the end of your next turn.
1st Level Conjuration
Casting Time:1 action Range:50 feet Components: V, S
A crackling column of lightning appears amid your enemies, lashing out at any who move near it.
You conjure a pillar of crackling energy in an unoccupied square within range.
The pillar occupies 1 Square and lasts until the end of your next turn.
Each enemy that moves into a square adjacent to the pillar takes 1d6 + your Intelligence Modifier in Lightning Damage.
1st Level Necromancy
Casting Time:1 action Range:50 feet Components: V, S
Grey, smokey darts fly from your fingertips to strike at your foes where they are weakest.
You create two grey, smoking darts made of darkness and shadow.
Each dart hits a creature of your choice that you can see within range.
A dart deals 1d4
+ Your Intelligence Modifier in Piercing Damage.
If the target has vulnerability to any damage types, the damage is of those types.
If the target has no vulnerabilities, you gain a power bonus to the damage roll equal to Your Wisdom modifier.
a/n: i tweaked it just a lilllll bit, hopefully it works out!!! this was fun to write too–i need to incorporate some more angst and stuff into my work….not saying i don’t enjoy the fluff because zoo weeeee mama i love the fluff. anyways, enjoy my underoos!! <333
You were a renowned stunt coordinator in Hollywood, one of the youngest in the industry, and you enjoyed working closely with many different actors on many large projects. The most recent one you had signed on to was the upcoming Spider-Man film–the director asked for you specifically to work with Tom Holland himself, the actor cast as the lead.
The two of you hit it off from the start, you breaking the ice by saying one of your favorite films of his was The Impossible, which he graciously thanked you for. You loved working with him, he was extremely coordinated and well-balanced, and you flowed together like a rushing river. He was surprisingly sweet, and very funny, always asking how you felt after you both had a tough day of training–and making you laugh to lift your spirits. One of your personal rules–your strictest one–was to never get involved with anybody you worked with. But as each day passed by that you spent working with Tom, you felt a passionate flame kindling in your chest that you tried your hardest to suppress–but knew you would never be able to extinguish it.
Zeus is gravity– unseeable, unknowable, defying human understanding. He holds the planets in place. He slingshots rockets back home. He cradles Earth in a steady orbit and tells them that they are safe.
Hera rests on the rings around Saturn. She drapes herself across their icy surface, riding their steady rotations, ever-watching, ever-awake.
Artemis holds the moon in her hands. Some call her goddess of the moon, but she knows that she is but a friend to Selene. She watches in awe as Selene glows, and she tries to bring that peace back to the forest with her.
Apollo lights up his sister’s hands as he rests upon the Sun. He surrounds himself with light, and he tries to find music in between the sunspots and the harsh solar winds. When he can’t find any music, he makes it for himself.
Hestia kindles the flames of the stars. She watches them grow up, and she mourns at their supernovas. She paints Earth’s skies with constellations, and she tries to keep the world aglow despite their dying light.
Poseidon takes pleasure in placing water in places where no one dares to look. He crafts great oceans in distant planets, at the center of unexplored moons. He knows that life is sacred, even if it is unknown.
Ares hurls meteors across distant skies. Asteroids are his cannonballs. Comets are his bullets.
Aphrodite watches in awe as Ares’ ammunition glides through the atmosphere. She sets them aglow and calls them shooting stars. She listens to the faraway wishes, but she can’t grant them all.
Athena plants ideas in the minds of faraway astronomers and cosmologists. She whispers of string theory, of the multiverse, of membranes, of dimensions. She smiles as ideas become theories and theories become facts.
Dionysus sends out constant reminders that the universe can never make sense. He muddles Athena’s great ideas and reminds us that the world doesn’t have meaning– it just is.
Demeter grows galaxies as if they are crops. She names them as if they are her children, “Sunflower”, “Andromeda”, “Tadpole”, and she nurtures them from seeds, waiting for the day that they will be ready for harvest.
Hephaestus sculpts quarks into atoms, atoms into elements, elements into entire nebulas. He knows that the other deities rely on him to make the universe work, but they seem to forget.
Hermes is the speed of light. He knows that he can’t be matched, can’t be broken, can’t ever be surpassed. He is infinite.
Hades sleeps at the center of blackholes. He pities those who quiver at the chaos, the terror, the horrible uncertainty of his gaping cracks in space; he knows that there is nothing to fear about darkness.
To celebrate the end of filming the 3 season of Outlander … Nothing better than a phrase from the last chapter of Voyager
“America,” I said softly. “The New World.” The pulse beneath my fingers had quickened, echoing my own. A new world. Refuge. Freedom.“Yes,” said Mrs. Olivier, plainly having no idea what the news meant to us, but still smiling kindly from one to the other. “It is America.”Jamie straightened his shoulders and smiled back at her. The clean bright air stirred his hair like kindling flames.“In that case, ma’am,” he said, “my name is Jamie Fraser.” He looked then at me, eyes blue and brilliant as the sky behind him, and his heart beat strong in the palm of my hand.“And this is Claire,” he said. “My wife.”..
‘The first thing Shouyou noticed was that he had been wrong, about Kageyama’s eyes. They weren’t cold. They were instead like the kindling for a flame, intense and boring straight into Shouyou, lighting him from the inside out.
The second thing he noticed was that Kageyama was staring back at him with the same expression Shouyou was sure was on his own face.
Pure, unfiltered desire.’
When lowly acolyte Hinata is tasked with bringing his temple’s monthly tax payment to the Centurion’s Villa, he hardly expects to have an encounter with Kageyama, the lavishly wealthy landowner and decorated army general himself. But Kageyama turns out to be far more interested in Hinata than the money, believing him to be a gift sent from the gods themselves. Before Hinata realizes what’s happening, he finds himself agreeing to stay at the villa, where Kageyama can spoil him to his heart’s content.
To Hinata’s surprise, he soon finds himself growing attached to the brutally blunt yet strangely sweet Kageyama; but he is worried he won’t be able to hold the attention of a man who has everything, even as Kageyama starts to become everything to him.
In online disagreements, it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one making an effort to be nice. Like you’re working hard to talk respectfully, but everyone else keeps sabotaging you.
All people have to do is be a tiny bit civil. That shouldn’t be complicated, right?
The thing is, it’s pretty complicated.
Here are a few examples of how you might try to convey respect in choosing your words:
empathizing with other people’s thoughts and feelings
not making assumptions about people’s thoughts and feelings
avoiding swearing & overly casual language
avoiding pompous, academically elite language
being straightforward & honest
refraining from saying negative things
carefully avoiding statements with any kind of subtle bigotry
not walking on eggshells with someone just because you have privileges they don’t
refraining from logical fallacies and generalizations
refraining from nitpicking and hair-splitting
See how this can get a little… contradictory? Differences in how you prioritize these things can alienate people who grew up in the same household.
Now imagine folks from radically different social circles, religious backgrounds, and countries, all trying to correctly guess what everyone else will read as respectful. That’s the internet on a good day. We can all work hard to treat each other right, and it can still blow up in our faces.
People on both sides can take measures to de-escalate a conflict, and it can escalate anyway because they perceive the conflict differently.
This can leave you feeling frustrated, self-righteous, and put-upon. All dry kindling in the world of flame wars.
It helps to figure out what exactly makes you feel respected. Then you can ask people to treat you the way you want, in a specific and constructive way.
And when you can articulate how you want to be treated, it’s easier to remember that others might want to be treated differently.
Hey, all! So today I’m going to teach you about runes and how to use them in everyday magick. There are, of course, many different types of runes but for this, we are talking about Germanic runes.
So, first off I’ll tell you a little about what runes are. Runes are a form of script, dating all the way back to 150 AD. They were eventually replaced by the Latin alphabet somewhere around 700 AD. Because they are so ancient, some witches use them not only as a secret script but also in their magickal workings.
You might be asking, “Well how do I do that? Wouldn’t that be like using the letter A?” Well, yes and no. I have no doubt someone could find a way to use the Latin alphabet for magick, but in this case, runes are more… symbolic I guess? Take the rune peorth for example (see “p” above). It resembles a cup lying on its side. When the opening points to the right, it represents birth and beginnings. When the opening points to the left, it represents death or endings.
Each rune symbolizes a specific thing or idea. Say, for example, you wanted a quick charm for safe travels. You could draw Raidho ® somewhere on your person as it is the rune of travel. To use rune magick simply draw, paint, or inscribe it where you want to use it. You can also “draw” it in the air or on an object/person with your energy.
Below is a list of all the runes, their names, and their uses/meanings (order is from left to right).
Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him
Out of his stupor.
"Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day.
"Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk.
"Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers.
“Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does.
"You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“
"Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly.
"Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“
(Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale.
With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug.
"Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.
“I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-"
"It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his.
“What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.
“I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features.
"Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“
"N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”
“It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear.
Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state.
Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock.
“No sassy remarks anymore, eh?”
“Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were.
“Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,”
“I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck.
“Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid.
“What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them.
“I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,”
Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw.
“No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,”
“Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it.
“I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,”
“Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears.
“What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion; that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…
“Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice.
“Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly.
“Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him.
“How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them.
“Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,”
“I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it.
“Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground.
“You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort.
“Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him.
“Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock.
“I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes.
“I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune.
Hello! Do you know of any really long fics with a lot of smut? Thanks!!
Saving the futureby Lulling Sisters and witches, Snow, Ruby and Regina, get a visit from mysterious Emma Swan. She has come from the future to save the world the sisters know. Emma’s secretive, guarded, mysterious and hiding secrets about her true origins and the horrid future she comes from. Secrets no one can ever know. The fate of the future and her own family rests on Emma’s shoulders. No pressure.
Lament of the Asphodelsby @dracox-serdriel Killian Jones is the Keeper of Stagrock Light, the Sole Beacon of Northedge, and he lives a simple life apart from the society he serves. His entire world turns upside-down when a shipwreck leaves him with a stranded Survivor, born with the name Emma Swan. Complications arise when they both begin to experience a rush of other memories that might just be from another life.
The Dark Horizonby @qqueenofhades AU. The Caribbean, 1715: Royal Navy Lieutenant Killian Jones and his brother, Captain Liam Jones, have just arrived to help pacify the notorious “pirates’ republic” of New Providence. But they have dangerous allies, deadly enemies, and no idea what they’re getting into when they agree to hunt the pirate ship Blackbird and the mysterious Captain Swan. OUAT/Black Sails, COMPLETE.
Take Me to Churchby @optomisticgirl Emma Swan returned to her southern hometown of Storybrooke to pick up the pieces of her last shattered relationship, determined to rebuild her life in the one place she swore she’d never return to. What she didn’t expect was the new priest and the journey of passion, love, and redemption he would take her on. [Priest!Killian Modern AU]
Where There’s Smoke There’s Fireby @lizzyc807shipscaptainswan Killian Jones is ex-special forces Navy and a fire fighter in a company in the city. One night after a particularly bad day he meets a bail bonds person named Emma Swan who awakens something in his heart that he hasn’t felt possibly ever. The unlikely pair just might be the kindling that ignites the flames within each other’s heart that had been dulled for years.
To Make Your Heart Raceby @fergus80 Killian “Hook” Jones is NASCAR’s bad boy, who is forced to do some community service to clean up his act. Emma Swan is the counselor at the local Children’s shelter who is done with men and relationships after her latest in a long stream of nightmares. (You do not need NASCAR knowledge to read this.)
His Dark Beautyby @wordsmith-storyweaver Emma lives a quiet life on the small farm she inherited upon the death of her parents many years ago. That life is disrupted when one good deed brings her to the attention of Prince Killian-widower, father, and brother to the king. He offers her a deal too good to be true, and yet, who could possibly refuse the man who might one day rule their realm? Rated M.
These Nights Aren’t Made For Thinkingby @nowforruin AU. Emma Swan came to Portland, ME to start over. She’s got a job she loves, but when a particular case gets under her skin, she finds herself visiting the Jolly Roger and its curious bartender, Mr. Killian Jones, more often than she thinks is wise. But some nights aren’t made for thinking. Captain Swan.
Dear anon, I ended up using both! It also got long… I’ve been informed the “read more” doesn’t work on mobile so sorry for the insanely long post
16. “I’ll kick his
ass if you want me to.” 148. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”
The first time happens after Donnie Pfaster.
Scully tells Mulder to take her home, please, and without a
word he leads her away from the scene, away from the horrors. In the car, he
watches her carefully at every turn he makes. They arrive at the motel in
silence and she knows this isn’t home, and she knows they won’t get to go home
tonight, but she lets him take him inside his room.
“You can have the bed. I'll…” He never finishes
his sentence; not that Scully is listening to him anyway. She curls on the bed,
tries to make herself so small, so tiny that no one can ever find her here. She
winces when the abrasion on her chin comes in contact with the oh so soft
pillow. Her eyes close, but the tears find a way through, tainting the white
“Scully, I know you don’t want - how about you take a
shower? Maybe I could have a doctor come here and-
“No. Not tonight, Mulder. I promise I’ll get checked
out tomorrow. I promise. I’m fine.” She doesn’t lift her head, refuses to
look at him; she is done with him pitying her. All she wants now, all she
needs, is sleep.
“Shower?” His voice is closer now, but she can’t
tell where he is; he is close, and she wants him to be close, as long as she
doesn’t have to look directly at him. With her eyes closed, she can almost feel
his arms around her still. His hands on her, just holding her to him, being
there for her. But he wasn’t there before. Before. The water. In the bathtub.
“All right.” His voice is a soft sound; so gentle
that she is not sure she’s still awake. Silence fills the room and she listens
to her own heartbeat, strong and certain; it’s everything she doesn’t feel
right now. There’s another sound chiming in; Mulder. A soft rustling tells her
that he’s trying to get comfortable somewhere around here. She is not going to
ask him to join her in bed. Not this time. So she listens to his tiny noises
creating a lullaby that rocks her gently into sleep.
The dream explodes in vivid colors, blinding her, gagging
The words reach her, somewhere, but she can’t get away.
She’s running, she’s trying, but the hands are around her throat; they’re
grabbing at her, closing in around her throat, choking her, and she can’t even
She takes a deep breath and the hands disappear. Her feet
stop moving; no more running. Half-conscious, Scully realizes this is a dream.
None of this is real. Not the hands around her throat, not the voice. Mulder,
she thinks. Even in my dreams, he is right here by my side.
“That’s right, Scully. Just keep breathing.” The
voice sounds so real that she almost wonders. Almost. She feels soft warm lips
on her cheek, gently kissing her, and she breathes. She just breathes in and
out. The lips descend again, on her lips this time, and now she knows this has
to be a dream. It has to be.
“Just keep breathing. I’ll be here.”
When it happens again, Scully has already convinced herself that
the first time was a dream. The days after the Donnie Pfaster case are hazy at
best and the memory of him, of what happened or didn’t happen, in the motel
room are pushed aside when Melissa is killed.
Scully wants to go home, just go home, and they won’t let
her. Her apartment is still a crime scene. But she can’t face her mother, who
pleads with her daughter to leave her alone, please Dana, and Mulder won’t let
her go to a hotel. Alone. Without a word she sits in his car and when he gets
in it, he stares at her. No words leave his mouth as his eyes plead with her
loudly to please, please look at him. She doesn’t.
The car makes a clicking noise, sounds as tired as Scully
feels. Any other day she might have told him to have it checked out. Not
tonight. Tonight there is nothing to say. Mulder’s hand lands on the small of
her back, some things refusing to ever be affected by tragedy, and leads her
down the hall to his apartment. She slips through the door before him and
settles herself on his couch. The leather, smelling of him, feels familiar and
she closes her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.
Mulder lingers between the rooms for a moment, decides to
leave the lights off, and finally joins her on the couch.
“You should have let me go to a hotel,” Scully
says and her voice sounds hollow, “There’s no space for two people
“You take the couch,” Mulder gets up again, takes
off his jacket, and sits at his desk, “I’m not tired.”
“Mulder, you’re still in recovery and-”
“No, Scully. I’m fine,” he almost spits the words
out and she startles, “You take the couch, you sleep. I’ll be fine. I have
a bedroom, you know.” She doesn’t know and in the dim light, she can’t
tell if he’s lying. He probably is and maybe she should care. She just doesn’t.
Scully takes the neatly folded blanket from the back of the
couch and wraps it around her. She turns away from Mulder, facing the wall, but
feels him all around her. He’s in the leather, in the blanket and he’s keeping
her safe; despite her not wanting him to. Scully closes her eyes tentatively;
what is she going to see there in the darkness of her own thoughts? But it’s
just blackness, so she leaves them shut and waits for sleep to take her.
When they were little girls Melissa taught her to even out
her breathing so it seemed like she was asleep when she wasn’t. Back then it
came in handy when their parents checked on them late at night. They’d pretend
to be asleep and as soon as the air was clear, they could go back to whispering
secrets or reading. As they grew older, Melissa stopped doing it. Instead, she
would stare their parents straight in the eye, explaining that she was old
enough to stay up. Little Dana was never brave enough.
And she isn’t brave enough today either.
She evens out her breath, tears falling silently,
remembering a sister she will never see again. Mulder’s chair squeaks and then
nothing; afraid he might have woken her up again, he waits. Scully wills
herself to keep breathing deeply. It works. She feels Mulder move, and then
he’s there. Leaning over her. She can do this, she reminds herself. If he knows
that she’s only pretending, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he tightens the
blanket around her. He still hovers over her, as if trying to decide on
something. Then he leans down, kisses her temple, her nose and finally his lips
graze hers. There’s a faint memory; how can she remember the feel of his mouth
when he’s never kissed her before? Just as quickly, he is gone again. In the
distance a door clicks.
There’s no way she can pretend this is just a dream.
They never talk about it, of course. Both have signed this
unwritten agreement that prevents them from mentioning any of this. Lingering
hugs are shoved aside just like almost kisses; just a spur of the moment thing.
Nothing to see here, no, this never happened.
Mulder visits her in the hospital after she points a gun on
him, thinking he was in cohorts with the Cancerman. It’s long after visiting
hours, but to Mulder that’s no reason to stay away. Scully wakes almost,
expecting a nurse, but her eyes immediately close again when she sees him. He
stands next to her and gently brushes a strand of stray hair away. Scully knows
she should say something, stop this. But the truth is she craves his kiss; craves
his touch on her. The moment stretches on and on and on. Scully feels sleep tug
at her heavily and finally it wins out, captures her. She dreams of Mulder
kissing her softly. In the morning she can’t recall if he ever did, or if he
just made sure she was safe.
Scully slips in and out of sleep without control, without
any agenda. Her body fights the aggressive invader and it is getting weaker,
the illness taking the upper hand. She doesn’t expect Mulder to be in her room
in the middle of the night. Crying. He’s crying and her heart, what is left of
it, is breaking for him. With him. Scully wants to take his hand in hers and
tell him it will be all right. There is no strength left in her and she falls
asleep to the sound of his quiet, lonely sobs. She knows he kisses her; she
feels it in her soul, feels how it kindles her flame. Even if only for a short
Mulder kisses her cheek one night when she falls asleep on
his couch after her vacation to Maine. Alone. Not a vacation either. She’s
exhausted, but she’s missed Mulder (she doesn’t tell him that) and she so she
lets him order take out. He tells her about possessed dolls and how he can find
books about this phenomenon if she’s interested. All she’s interested in right
now is being here with him, close to him. His words follow her into her dream
for a while before it all gets quiet.
“I missed you.” Dream or reality. A kiss on the
cheek. One day, she knows, this will have to end. Not tonight, though, as sleep
carries her away again.
Mulder kisses her neck when they’re stuck sharing a bed in
Kroner, Kansas. They’re posing as a married couple in Arcadia, California and
Mulder sneaks into her bedroom, kissing her knuckles; caressing them one by one
with his lips. By the time Christmas comes around, she thinks they might be
ready. She thinks this might be it. They almost kill each other, so maybe not.
Not quite yet.
It happens in New York.
She should be dead. People keep telling her that she should
not be alive and she nods, staring into the other direction. The implications
too heavy to face here, now. Mulder flies out to visit her (another reminder
how close she’s gotten, once again) and hardly ever leaves her bedside.
“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” They’re
sharing her jello, because Mulder looks like he hasn’t eaten (or slept) in days
and Scully is beginning to get sick of it already.
“I can kick his ass myself, thank you.”
“Not right now you can’t. I’ll do it, Scully. Just say
He calls her mother for her, explains everything. When she
wakes up he’s staring at her, his eyes heavy with worry, but also with love.
She smiles back at him, silently thanking him for being there. For doing it all
He makes his move the third night she’s there. The nurses
are well acquainted with him now; they know they can tell him to leave, but
he’ll be back as soon as they turn their backs on him. So they no longer try
and just greet him, smile even. Mulder is, after all, quite charming if he
wants to be. Scully, too, is used to him being there day and night. She tells
him to get some sleep from time to time, just leave her alone for a while, but
he is adamant about staying.
“You only get into trouble when I’m not around.”
It’s late when Scully feels tiredness wash over her. She
yawns and Mulder looks up from the book he’s reading.
“Do you want me to turn off the lights?”
“No, I don’t mind. Good night, Mulder.”
“Good night, Scully.”
For a while, he reads. Scully hears him turn pages every
once in a while. She’s tired, but she just can’t sleep. She’s never been a good
patient, and all she wants is to go home and sleep in her own bed. Her thoughts
distract her for a moment. The book is closed softly and something about this
feels different than all the other times. Mulder appears beside her, his body
radiating warmth, and when he leans down she can smell his scent. So much
Mulder. He kisses her eyelids softly and then brushes her lips. She almost
responds; almost opens her mouth to him. But before she can react at all, he is
leaving again, and this time it’s not enough.
“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”
She hears his sharp intake of breath. Scully sits up and bed
and watches him, frozen to the spot at the end of her bed. His shoulders slump
and he shoots her a lopsided grin that turns into a sad smile.
“You never let me take care of you when you’re
“You never asked.”
“Are you sure, Scully? All those times you threw your
‘I’m fine’ line at me. I know you don’t want me to see you as weak. Scully,
I’ve never considered you weak. Not once. And I never will. You’re the
strongest person I know. I just wish sometimes… that you’d let me be there for
you. I never planned to kiss you like this. Wait, you knew about this?”
“I might have been awake once or twice.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mulder sits down on
her bed carefully. She takes her hand in his, feeling confident now.
“I didn’t want you to stop.” She admits, her eyes
“So we could have been doing this for real?” His
grin is back and now she’s wearing a matching one.
“There’s still time.”
“Scully, can I kiss you?”
“You never asked before.” She tells him, leaning
forward slightly and taking the decision from him. She knows the feeling of his
soft lips already; it’s nothing compared to the feel of his tongue sliding into
her mouth, meeting hers for the first time.
If this is a dream, she doesn’t want to wake up ever again.
‘ set your past on fire and leave. ’ ‘ don’t let your smile go wasted. ’ ‘ my love for you i swallowed, yet your name will forever rest on the tip of my tongue. ’ ‘ i still look upon you fondly. ’ ‘ be in love, with or without me. ’ ‘ i would give my life to meet you all over again. ’ ‘ all love is conditional. ’ ‘ love transcends beyond the edges of a relationship. ’ ‘ i wonder if you’d still recognize my heartbeat the way i memorized yours. ’ ‘ all the love you tried to waste on them should be put to use on yourself. ’ ‘ love is crying in crimson. ’ ‘ let it burn, let it cleanse, let it start anew and grow. ’ ‘ love is never pure. ’ ‘ you cannot endlessly give that which you don’t receive. ’ ‘ every day i am moved by the waves you made in my past. ’ ‘ if you get lost, all it means is that your old path has ended. search and find a new one. ’ ‘ i have enough warmth to share. ’ ‘ don’t look for them in other people. look for new happiness and new connections. ’ ‘ have i ever cared for someone the way i cared for you? ’ ‘ remember to count the stars in her eyes. ’ ‘ giving love is not a waste. ’ ‘ there are parts of me that remain forever changed by your presence and i’ll cherish these forever. ’ ‘ i am complete as a sole being. ’ ‘ there’s love to find beyond the horizon. ’ ‘ no matter how hard i cry, it’s not gonna bring us back. ’ ‘ your smile was golden like the sun and warmed my body the same way. ’ ‘ you may never know how much i still care for you. ’ ‘ the pillow still smells of you. ’ ‘ good or bad, i hope we are feeling the same. ’ ‘ i haven’t ever touched someone the way i touched you. ’ ‘ my favorite homes are the ones i can leave. ’ ‘ i’m tired of healing myself just so i can be hurt again. ’ ‘ you are my heartbeat. ’ ‘ even if i say i love you a hundred times a day, i mean every single one of them. ’ ‘ don’t forget to create a new self before abandoning the old one. ’ ‘ these tears are for me, not for you. ’ ‘ the best part of our relationship was me. ’ ‘ don’t look at them anymore. ’ ‘ there are better things in store for you. ’ ‘ unrequited love is like falling but knowing there’s no one to catch you. ’ ‘ some flowers only bloom after a fire. ’ ‘ free but struggling is better than trapped but happy. ’ ‘ cry then cry some more. then cry again. it’s a process you need to go through. ’ ‘ losing you is worth it. ’ ‘ i’m not quitting, but i do deserve a break. ’ ‘ don’t be with people who use kindness as a tool. ’ ‘ don’t ever convince yourself you are beneath or above someone. ’ ‘ forgiving someone is a choice, but it’s not always the right one. ’ ‘ don’t let someone else bring you down when you could be building yourself up. ’ ‘ i care about you, but i care more about me. ’ ‘ i’m yours only if i want you. ’ ‘ you cannot keep waiting on someone else to turn your life around. ’ ‘ it’s okay for me to still love you after all that you did, but i can’t let that love stop me from knowing what’s ultimately better for me. ’ ‘ forgiveness does not mean acceptance. ’ ‘ forgiveness does not mean acceptance. it simply means you will not allow the actions of other to extinguish your flame. ’ ‘ forgiveness says that your fire will continue to rage on with or without them. ’ ‘ gracefully letting go of someone not meant for you means you will be introduced to something that is. ’ ‘ goodbyes are not always goodbyes, but the painful ones usually are. ’ ‘ don’t mistake possessiveness for love. ’ ‘ living with a closed heart is not living. ’ ‘ i’ve been through worse, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt. ’ ‘ my love for you was strong enough to beat everything. everything. ’ ‘ your love is not the love i want anymore. ’ ‘ you’re all the home i know. ’ ‘ we can all start forgetting now. ’ ‘ they are not you and that brings me more comfort than pain. ’ ‘ don’t let anger be all there is to you. ’ ‘ i liked everything you were five years ago. ’ ‘ if love were easy to find, it wouldn’t be worth it. ’ ‘ i don’t want to set things on fire anymore. ’ ‘ time passes even if you’re not moving forward. ’ ‘ crying is sometimes the best option. ’ ‘ don’t bother worrying about things that will never happen. ’ ‘ there’s still a lot i have to learn, but i hope i don’t have to learn it through heartbreak and pain. ’ ‘ you don’t always want what’s best for you. ’ ‘ the sun is all i need to keep myself warm. ’ ‘ i promise, when this is through, it will all be worth it. ’ ‘ you almost made me stop believing in love. ’ ‘ i could have fallen in love with you so easily. ’ ‘ i’ve found the one. i realized it was me all along. ’ ‘ there are so many reasons to smile and love is only one of them. ’ ‘ start taking no for an answer. ’ ‘ calm down, but don’t extinguish your fire. ’ ‘ what’s coming is always better than what you have lost. ’ ‘ don’t mistake confidence for arrogance. ’ ‘ there’s a lot of moments in my life i wish i had live through with you. ’ ‘ sometimes it’s better to not have any place to go back to. ’ ‘ i will fall in love with myself, slowly but surely. ’ ‘ be blind to pain or be kind to pain. ’ ‘ you’ll get there on your own. ’ ‘ goodbye for now doesn’t necessarily mean goodbye forever. ’ ‘ heal, but keep your heart open. ’ ‘ the urge to start anew burns deep within me. i will kindle this flame. ’ ‘ you can be heartbroken without ever falling out of love. ’ ‘ no fire keeps burning without good support. ’ ‘ don’t try to leave someone because you want them to stay. ’ ‘ what you feel is always real. ’ ‘ even good things will hurt if you’re surrounded by only bad things. ’ ‘ i have been waiting for too long to give up. ’ ‘ i’ve seen love come and go, but you’re the only one who made a home out of my heart. ’ ‘ you’re the only one who made a home out of my heart. ’ ‘ stop agreeing with what they tell you. ’ ‘ keep the past in the past. ’ ‘ don’t worry too much about tomorrow, it will come and it will pass. ’ ‘ allow people to move on and in turn, you will too. ’ ‘ i refuse to believe you no longer feel about me like that. ’ ‘ i still love you just as kindly. i’m still waiting with the same patience. ’ ‘ you can find more love in yourself than others. ’ ‘ i carry more guilt than i deserve. ’ ‘ guilty people often make the first move. ’ ‘ i am now and will always be mine. ’ ‘ don’t call me… at all. ’ ‘ it’s okay to say you don’t need them anymore and still fall asleep crying about them. it takes time and you are making progress. ’ ‘ burn bridges to the past and build bridges to the future. ’ ‘ respect isn’t free. ’ ‘ just as beauty has no weight limit, no amount of love is too much. ’ ‘ romance and heartbreak is not something to devote most of your time to. ’ ‘ never let someone new in to fill up the gap another person left. instead, work on replacing it yourself. ’ ‘ if they can’t explain, they can’t be trusted. ’ ‘ i wrote ‘yours forever’ and i meant that. ’ ‘ don’t compare yourself to the sun. instead, let it keep you warm. ’ ‘ it still burns. ’ ‘ the trick is to keep going. ’ ‘ kiss someone where they’re hurting, but please be gentle. ’ ‘ just do your makeup and try not to care. ’ ‘ how many times do i have to tell you no? ’ ‘ dream of me more often, even if it’s nightmares. ’ ‘ you need to choose a better life for yourself. ’ ‘ you’ll leave me and i’ll save myself. ’ ‘ you are no longer my goal. ’ ‘ i’m slowly moving on and starting to realize that i actually am better off without you. ’ ‘ i don’t cry because of you anymore. i cry because this beautiful person that i am spent so long wondering why i wasn’t good enough. ’ ‘ right now isn’t forever. ’ ‘ i’m still there for you even though i’m no longer waiting. ’ ‘ loving someone takes more than just love. ’ ‘ never choose someone who doesn’t choose you. ’
“Archie x reader where the reader finds out about archie cheating on her?” –Anonymous
Imagine: When Archie Andrews became your boyfriend, you were over the moon. When he admits he hasn’t been faithful, you must prepare for the fall.
Listen To: “Burn”, Philippa Soo
The moment you laid eyes on that boy, you knew you were toast.
“You’re the new girl, (Y/N), right?” A boy with broad shoulders and impossibly red hair said. He held out a hand, smiling shyly. “I’m Archibald Andrews, but everyone calls me Archie. Betty’s the school tour guide, but she’s sick today so guess you’re stuck with me!”
It was supposed to just be a walk around the school.
Later that day, a storm battered Riverdale, rain smashing against the windows and running down the roads in torrents.
“Looks like a big storm,” Archie remarked. “Do you have a car?”
“No,” you said with a sigh. “And this was all I wore today.” You gestured to your thin sweater.
“I’ll drive you,” Archie said with a good-natured smile. “I insist.”
Then, it became rides to and from school, studying together, and singing duets. His songs about teenage life and summertime slowly became songs about the feeling of your touch and the color of your eyes. You were enchanted, all of it culminating in a kiss at the end of a song he’d written declaring his feelings for you.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he had said.
Later that night, you laid in bed, hugging your pillow excitedly. You sent a text to your mutual friend, Betty, updating her on the recent development.
Betty: Be careful with that one. He’ll do what it takes to survive.
You were confused by what she meant, but chocked it up to old feelings of bitterness over Archie’s rejection of Betty. You felt bad for rubbing it in her face, and never brought it up again.