know that this drabble still has me smiling like an idiot

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Neil and Andrew are at some sort of bar or restaurant and someone hits on Neil. Neil doesn't understand because he isnt used to being flirted with.. But Andrew does. (Andrew's reaction?) 🌸thx

Eden’s seems louder than usual as they push through the doors. The music blaring through the club is especially bass heavy, and the beat thrums through the floor and up through Neil’s toes. Neil can already see the large sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor, and more bodies are pressed together up on this level around the bar and tables. He weaves his way around the bodies, keeping his eyes on Kevin’s back as he follows him.

When they sidled up to the bar, they’re lucky enough to catch a group moving away with their drinks. Nicky and Aaron are quick to grab the abandoned stools with Neil and Kevin filling in the space behind them. A few minutes have ticked by, the music switching over to an upbeat EDM track, when a bartender comes over to them. Neil doesn’t recognize the bartender, a tall guy with a mop of blonde hair, but that doesn’t stop the bartender from smiling easily at them.

“What can I get y’all?”

“Actually, we’re waiting for Roland,” Nicky explains, trying to peer around the bartender.

“Oh, he’s not in tonight,” the bartender says. “Something about a family emergency? So you’ve got me, Brayden.” 

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The Only Exception (Part 7)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,190 (sorry)

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, mentions of trauma, some confrontations, Sam being precious, reader self-reflection, mentions of threats, creepy emails

A/N: Guess who’s back…back again…Reader decides to take control of her life and do what she thinks is best. I really liked this part. That’s probably why I went a little crazy.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Originally posted by a-small-independent-princess

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The Dinner Party

just a random idea that came to me in a fever dream earlier this week. rated E for explicit smutty smut smut. enjoy!


“You want me to do what?”

Peeta frowned at her foot, wielding the nail polish brush threateningly. “First, I want you to hold still.” Katniss wriggled her toes defiantly but then obliged, hardly daring to breathe when he swiped the coral nail polish onto her big toe in nice, even strokes. It looked perfect, of course. He could always paint better than she could, even nails.

“Seriously, though. You want me to go to a dinner party with you?” she asked. He glanced up at her with a crooked smile before he started painting her next toenail.

“You make it sound like I’ve asked you to strip naked and run around the block or something,” he said, focusing on her toes. She snorted, then clamped her lips shut when he shot her a warning look. Snorting made her foot jiggle, apparently. “It’s just a dinner party. Delly asked everyone to bring a guest–someone, and I quote, ‘interesting.’ So I’m asking you.”

Katniss stared at the top of his head, his blond curls falling across his forehead as he worked. “But I don’t really know her. And what a weird stipulation,” she said with a laugh.

Peeta shrugged. “Delly likes her theme parties,” he muttered, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he delicately painted her pinky toe. Satisfied with his work, he shot her a triumphant smile. “And you’re the most interesting person I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who paints nails better than any girl I know.”

He gave her a look of mock offense. “Are you questioning my masculinity? You know how I feel about rigid gender roles.” Then he held up his hand, palm flat, fingers spread. “And who’s got a steadier hand than me?” She kicked playfully at his hand, and he made a noise of protest, grabbing her ankle to place her foot down on the coffee table. “Don’t mess up my hard work.”

Katniss slumped down into the couch, chewing on her lip. “You know I don’t like people. How am I supposed to be interesting around a bunch of strangers?”

Screwing the nail polish bottle shut, Peeta sat back on his hands. “Just think of it as a challenge. See how often you can work into the conversation that dry wit and razor-sharp sarcasm of yours without them realizing you’re insulting them.”

“Do you want people to hate me?” she asked wryly, folding her arms over her chest. He grinned.

“Delly said interesting. She didn’t say anything about likable.” He laughed when she flipped him off, then pushed off the floor to stand up. “I should head home. But I swear, if you just be yourself, people will love you.” She didn’t think it was that simple. Peeta never had to worry about getting people to like him; it just came naturally to him. But she didn’t argue the point, letting him pull her up from the couch. With cotton balls stuffed between her toes, she wobbled after him to the front door. Grabbing his jacket from the coat rack, he turned to her. “So you’ll come?”

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braveten  asked:

Yuuri is an electrician / repairman and... oh look.... Victor keeps breaking things... why isn't his lamp working anymore?? His oven, too?

10:00 am. Tuesday, March 14th.

“Katsuki Electrical, Yuuri speaking.”

“Yuuri! It’s Victor!”

Yuuri pinches the bridge of his nose. “Victor. How can I help you this time?”

“What do you mean, this time?”

Yuuri is required to keep track of the house calls he receives, and he doesn’t even need to check his chart to know that this is probably the fourth time Victor Nikiforov of 124 St. Petersburg Lane has called him within the past two weeks. “Absolutely nothing,” replies Yuuri hastily.

“Well, my oven’s not working,” continues Victor, his tone much brighter than it should be for a man whose oven isn’t working. “It’s not heating up.”

“What brand?” asks Yuuri, already half expecting the answer.

“JJ Appliances.”

People honestly have to stop installing JJ appliances in their homes. He receives at least a call a week about one malfunctioning.

“So do you need me to come over there and check it out?”

“Yes, please.”

Yuuri sighs. The first time Victor had called, it had been his kitchen lights flickering incessantly. That had been a more normal request. But then it had been his living room lamp malfunctioning, his microwave not heating up his food–

Because Victor had apparently never changed a lightbulb, nor had he seemed to realize that a microwave needed to be plugged in to work.

The main problem isn’t that Victor is making him come over to his house to fix these bordering-on-ridiculous problems, because Victor still pays him and tips him excessively. No, the problem is that Victor Nikiforov is making him come over to his house, period. Because Victor is terribly attractive, and Yuuri needs to keep it professional, but every time he goes, his neurons snap, and the impulses that should be running toward his brain are instead running wild. And Victor is not subtle.

Yuuri goes to fix the oven anyway.

11:00 am.

Victor Nikiforov is not an idiot. Yuuri knows this because of the bits and pieces that he’s gathered over the past two weeks. Victor likes books, and teaches Russian literature at the local college. Victor knows more about Anton Tchekhov than Yuuri knows about correctly wiring an entire kitchen. Victor knows more about the history of Eastern European art than Yuuri knows about, well, anything. Which is why suspicion has been tickling the back of his neck for a while now.

Yuuri rises up, having fixed the oven (which was actually truly not working), and Victor is standing behind him with a cup of tea.

Victor also knows how to make good tea, with just the right amount of sugar. It smells inviting, like an embrace, and as he takes a sip, the satisfying heat pops and crackles down his throat.

Yuuri thanks him, and Victor nods with a smile.

“I really have to thank you for all the help you’ve given me,” says Victor.

“Oh,” replies Yuuri, and as he looks up, Victor’s eyes are gazing straight into his own, lustrous and warm. “It was nothing.”

“It is something,” says Victor, and he opens his mouth again, a faint smile lining his lips and his cheeks dusted with a pink flush. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Got a laundry machine for me to fix?”

“I’ve got something else, if you’ll take it,” says Victor, biting his lip. “Dinner with me?”

“I’ll take it,” says Yuuri.

new beginnings.

2,402 words | fluff; warnings: none.
meeting at a coffee shop au + shin hoseok

a/n: ramen shop owner!wonho is a concept that most definitely needed to be written. and who knows? perhaps i might even take requests for this~

(i really have been considering taking requests after i’m done with the ones in my inbox. just like drabbles / companion pieces to things i’ve written like heaven is a place on earth, rule breakers, cave me in, etc.)

Originally posted by wonhontology

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REQUEST: Damon and reader. Where the reader is there for Damon throughout everything and he finally realized he’s in love with her!

Doppelgängers. The Originals. The race for the Cure. Heretics. Gemini Coven.

Damon Salvatore and his friends had seemed to have been through it all. Way more than what regular people would ever have to go through. But of course, they weren’t regular people. They were dead. Well, some of them.

Including you.

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This is for the beautiful @stylesforinfinity who is an absolute babe and who yesterday was super sweet about my writing, so this is the only form of thank you that seems adequate. 

This isn’t how Andrew expected the day to go…

The day starts normal enough. Or as normal as it can with house guests. He and Neil picked up Nicky and Erik from the airport yesterday, and with the jetlag, both are up especially early. It’s them puttering about in the kitchen–the gurgling of the coffee maker, the clinking of mugs, and their whispered voices–that wakes Andrew. Andrew opens his eyes to Neil still fast asleep beside him. The striker’s cheek is creased from where it’s pressed into the pillow, and his bangs have curled over his eyes. Andrew’s fingers twitch to fix it. 

It’s only a few moments before Neil’s eyes flutter open, the blue of them softened by the early morning sun bleeding in through the curtains. 

“Morning,” Neil mumbles, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. 

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anonymous asked:

75: "Don't bite me, I'm mad at you." Nessian please!

This took me far, far, far too long, and I apologise. I really liked this one for Nessian so I wanted to do it justice. As always, anyone and everyone is free to send me ACOTAR prompts for any character/pairing. 

Here’s the fic - hope you enjoy! 


For all their bickering, Nesta and Cassian can never seem to have a decent argument.

Nesta tries her best. With the same burning fury from the days when they spent every second fighting Hybern for all that they held dear, she storms into the cabin Cassian occupies. She catches him unprepared, half changed from where he’s been training the new recruits. The mental image of him in all his muscular, inspiring glory instructing a new class of liberated young Illyrian women does nothing to assuage Nesta’s anger. What she hates most though is that now it stings of jealousy. Damn her fae hormones.

“My Lady. I didn’t expect to see you before the dinner,” Cas says, focusing back on the straps of his fighting leathers. Though Nesta often calls him clumsy or blundering, his calloused fingers are awfully deft as they free his chest from the tight, black material, unlacing straps and freeing clasps. If only there was a way for Nesta to get him to stop stripping without admitting to why it caused a problem. If only he wasn’t so damn confident now in how he affected her. If only she hadn’t let him learn that really, beneath all her cold hatred, her knees went weak every time he gave her that fond half-smile.

“Then perhaps,” Nesta says, arms crossed firm over her chest, “you shouldn’t have sent me what I can only assume was meant as an insult.”

Cassian quirks an eyebrow. He doesn’t look at her, but being the insufferable man-child he is, his lips betray him, not quite able to swallow an impish smirk. “You don’t like my fashion tastes?” He asks, cocking his head at her like a young pup, like he’s innocent, not the scheming, centuries old arsehole he clearly is.

“Fashion would imply that this monstrosity qualifies as clothing.”

Nesta holds up the garment that was delivered to her not an hour ago. It would put even the Court of Nightmares to shame, all black lace and slivers of translucent fabric as thin and soft as a whisper. She’d have taken it to be intended for the bedroom, were it not accompanied by a scrawled note of ‘I look forward to seeing you at dinner.’

“You said you were fed up of Az and Rhys staring at their oh so beloved mates all evening,” Cassian say with a shrug, then a grin. “I’d like to see a mate bond stand against you in that.”

“You’re an idiot.” Nesta scowls, flushed scarlet and feeling far too flattered for someone possessing as much dignity as she does. Heat stirs in her stomach, and she feels an all too familiar itch between her legs. It’s the same every time. Stubbornly ignorant, ignoring the give away signs, she tries to hold onto the anger she’d walked in with. “Are you saying that if we were mates, you’d still betray me for a woman wearing this- this costume?”

She knows she stands no chance the moment Cassian’s smile appears. It’s a species she’s only ever seen north of the wall, unknown to humanity. An animal smile. Predatory. All too sinfully delicious. “Nes,” Cas whispers, his soft voice deadly with that wolfish grin, the one neither gentle nor demure. “Are you really so jealous of the mating bond? Of Rhys and your darling sister? Old Azriel and dear Mor?”

Leaving his change of clothing behind, he crosses to her, still shirtless, trousers unbuttoned, dark skin still sluiced with sweat. “I’m not jealous,” Nesta says. She’s on edge, her muscles coiled and tensed, but it’s not pure and known like her anger is. She almost feels sick with it, heady. “I don’t envy them when they pine and fawn over each other. Being helplessly bound to another appeals little to me.” He draws close and slips a hand around her waist, but she pushes a hand to his chest, keeping him back. “Were you my mate, however,” she says, fixing his gaze with hers, “you would look at no one else. You wouldn’t be able to breathe if I so much as entered the room.”  

“Oh?” Cas says, and his small smile alone is enough to reignite Nesta’s anger.

“You’d be even more of a mess than you are now,” she says, and there is no kindness in her tone, it’s all bite and it makes that itch between her legs spread deeper, to her bones. “You think you’re such a strong, immortal warrior, bat boy? You wouldn’t be able to think about anyone, anything but me. It wouldn’t matter how pretty or young or gifted those trainee girls of yours are. I’d own you.”

She’s breathing heavily, and almost without noticing it, she’s moved her hand up to wrap it around Cassian’s neck. Her grip isn’t enough to cut off his airway, but she can feel his pulse thrumming beneath her thumb and forefinger. He looks back at her, boyish smile gone, eyes so soft, so open, that she forgets to breathe for a moment. “Nes,” he says, so honest it breaks her heart, “You already do.”

It’s the same as it always is when they try to argue. Her outrage is unmasked, revealed to be something far more dangerous because it makes her weak to him, and willingly so. She has been conditioned to despise how easily she melts beneath his kisses as he nuzzles into her neck, but even the guarding walls of The Ice Queen can’t hold Cassian at bay. She doesn’t know how, but he’s so achingly comfortable to fall into, so full of heat that she forgets what it is to be cold.

He’s not gentle long though; they never are. His teeth, sharp and strong amongst the blurred heat of their skin, nip at her collarbone, the shell of her ear. “Don’t bite me,” she scolds him, though she laughs at herself. “I’m mad at you. You’re supposed to be groveling.”

“Apologies, my Lady.” His voice is rough and close in her ear. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You never can,” Nesta says, as she looks at him for too long, like she’s still scared he’ll disappear, like they’re back in the war. He knows that look, knows how she feels, and responds by shoving her rough back against the wall, pinning their two bodies firm against each other, so he’s all there, all around her. She grips him back, grasps the muscled thickness of his neck, and rests their foreheads together for a moment of peace amongst the passion. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Hidden Stars Pt.1 (M)

Pt. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |  -  [Drabbles]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Smut/Angst 

Word Count: 9,925

Description: It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated. 

Originally posted by kookiefly

You could feel the music pulsing around your body as you swayed in time with the beat. There were packs of dancing figures surrounding you, and you suddenly felt the need for a break from the suffocating atmosphere. You wiggled your way through the mob of people until you reached the outside, and took in a relieved breath; but you immediately regret it because your lungs are instantaneously filled with cigarette smoke from the abundance of lounging celebrities.

You had somehow managed to make it into the VIP section of the club that night, probably due to the short red dress that hitched higher and higher up your legs with every movement you made. It was strange, every time you turned your head there was another famous person catching your eye. You weren’t too into celebrity culture, but you couldn’t help but find it kind of surreal seeing all these people that were usually just pictures in a magazine, or pixels on a screen, standing right before your eyes.

You couldn’t stop the fit of coughing that overtook you, as you tried to expel the rancid smoke that had invaded your body. You stumbled forward slightly, as you tried to make your way to the bar for a drink, when you suddenly feel a hand being placed on your back. You whip your head to the side to try and politely ask the stranger to not touch you, but when his face comes into view all of your words are lost.

There was no mistaking his raven black hair that paired with his fiery eyes, which contrasted greatly with his cute bunny-like smile.

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Twenty Questions

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking. Somewhere between angsty and fluffy and with mentions of smut.

Summary: With a broken team, and a broken heart, Tony Stark has no one else to rely on but (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a long time friend that has endured and coped with him more times than any friend would. Upon drinks, sad movies and a harmless 20 Questions game, the most hidden feelings arise.

A/N: I like this a lot. Bear it with me.


Originally posted by unchartedghoul

If you said you weren’t surprised by the message you got that morning, you’d be a fucking liar. You were indeed surprised, and with good reason. You hadn’t seen Tony Stark in a year or two, only quick texting once or twice a week just to catch up on your lives, but now he was inviting you to his place to watch a movie, “for old times’ sake”.

Movies with him never ended up well, or at least, they didn’t use to. Sex is all there was in a movie night with him; well, sex and guilt. You were head over heels for such a long time that you couldn’t even recall the moment when you first started to feel that, but now you had grown up, and you were more or less sure that your feelings were a mature thing that could be controlled.

You waited in the elevator the excruciating moments before getting to where he needed you. FRIDAY, his artificial assistant was very kind to tell you that he was eager to see you; you too were eager, but still very afraid of what was going to happen next.

Poison blasted from the speakers, and you were suddenly taken ages back, when you two were at his place, drinking and laughing and then… going at it. You couldn’t help but smiling at the memory, and when you saw Tony looking at you, your heart just stopped.  He had not change a thing, and if anything, he was even more handsome than you remembered.

“What a sight for sore eyes are you.” He smiled as he took the long distance to hug you so tight that he could’ve broken your bones.

“You’re so full of shit.”

The drinks started to come up and the saddest movie you had ever seen showed up on the huge TV he owned. You two stayed in silence for a while, really taking into every detail of the movie. You were not used to watch these kind of movies with him, let alone watch any movie. You two invented Netflix and chill before there was any Netflix whatsoever. That until he recommended a Twenty Questions game. You started.

“Question number one. How are you?” You asked.

“Fucked. My friends are gone, my ex-girlfriend doesn’t want me and she doesn’t even want to see me anymore. One of my best friends is on a fucking wheelchair and everything has just gone to shit.”

“That’s just sad.” You shook your head.

“Number two, did you miss me?” He gave you a half smile.

“Can’t say I didn’t.” You shrugged innocently.

And as the movie went on, and the bottles of beer emptied, you two had gained more and more false confidence to ask each other the most inappropriate questions that your drunken minds could possible think of. But things started to get very awkward and you completely lost the focus on the movie.

“Question number ten,” he took the beer to his lips and sipped from it, “what is it that you think I should know right now?”

“You just don’t know how to love, Stark.” You sighed, keeping your eyes on the screen, trying hard not to look at him, because if you did, you’d surely tell him everything in your mind. “You destroy everything you love. So that’s why I’m sure you don’t love me enough.”

“Not true.” He retorted, pausing the movie.

“It is. I would never be like Pep because our friendship is always coming and going. I mean… you tore her apart man. I don’t wanna be mean, but you gotta admit it… You had everything in your hands to not fuck shit up and… you did. You went along this destructive path as you have always done.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked.

“After what happened in New York, you told me Pepper wanted you to slow down with the avenging life, right?” He nodded. “That she wanted to have a more or less normal relationship with an abnormal man like yourself, right?” He nodded again. “Well, what did you do? Destroyed a bunch of suits just to build more. Or at least enhance the one you’d stay with and blow up an entire city.”

“I don’t get the point.”

“She gave you the chance to stop this madness, and you didn’t. And once you were a hundred times more PSTD fucked up, you tried to amend your relationship but she was done with it. Tony, it’s your fault that she’s gone.”

“Thank you,” Tony huffed, “silly me for wanted to have some Netflix and chill with you.”

“You can’t possibly think that you can bribe me into a good movie and a pity fuck afterwards.” You laughed, placing a hand on your chest. “I would have fallen for that three years ago. Tony, I got older and I have a little self-respect now.”

“You would’ve?” He asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. It took you a second to realize what you had said.

“I would.” Oh fuck it. Good thing you were old enough now to be able to talk about your still burning feelings in a way more civilized and controlled way. “I like you Tony, my passion for you burns with the intensity of a thousand suns… and yes I took that from a cartoon, but it ain’t that wrong.” Tony fell speechless, and you called it your cue to break the news down to him. Years of friendship would be probably be ruined, but fuck it, you were going big and probably going home after this. “Remember when we were fuck buddies? Well, it all went to shit for me, because we knew each other so damn well and sex was like the next step for us and I always thought you’d end up feeling the same thing for me but apparently you did not.” You rolled your eyes. “And it’s totally fine! Don’t get me wrong. This friendship we have is probably ruined because I never told you this until now and because I started acting weird after I got the feelings, but you have your fair share too, I mean… you could’ve asked what happened, and you never did. And I’m sorry… I’m gonna have to go.”

You were getting ready to leave, you had even taken your bag from the countertop and your jacket from the hanger next to the door, and as they opened for you, Tony started running behind you to grab your arm and make you turn around.

“Question number eleven, was any of this true?” You nodded a silent response. “Twelve, why didn’t you say anything?”

“It had no use.” You shook your head. “You were head over heels for Pepper.” You shrugged. “Can I go? I really wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), you dropped this bomb and you want to go home without any further explanation? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“What’s the use of even explaining you now?” You asked in exhaustion. “You’re still in love with Pepper and I’m gonna die alone! So what?”

“Thirteen, do you still like me?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Fourteen, did you ever feel something for me?”

“Yes. I did.” He sighed. “Fifteen, what do we do now?”

“I have no fucking clue.” Your bottom lip trembled, he was getting closer and your knees started to weaken. “Sixteen…” you paused, “do you know?”

“No.” Tony shook his head and cupped your face; his breath brushed your lips, and as you held on to his wrists, you tried to have as much from him as possible. The way his body tensed at your touch, his hitching breathing and his crazy heartbeat were signals, but you were not sure if those were the right ones.

“Seventeen. When did you feel something for me?” Your voice was a barely audible whisper now.

“It has been like an on and off thing… Before we even were fuck buddies I felt something for you, and then Pepper came, and well, I’ve missed you…”

“So now I’m like your second choice?”

“Never.” You tried to escape, but your hands were glued to his arms and he was not letting you go either. Even though his grip was strong, his hands were tender, and they felt soft against your skin. You longed for this contact, it had been a while since you two saw each other. “(Y/N), you were never a second choice or a consolation prize. You wanna know why I haven’t hurt you?”

“Why?”

“Because I care.”

“Eighteen. Why do you care?”

“You’ve been with me through thick and thin, (Y/N).” His hands moved from your face to your shaky shoulders, trying to stop you. “You’re the oldest friend I have and god knows you’re the best. Nineteen, do you want to jump with me?”

“I do…” You sighed, moving your hands to his chest. “Twenty…” you bit your bottom lip, “do you love me?” He nodded a silent response.

“I’m gonna ask another one. Twenty one, can I kiss you again? I… I don’t wanna let you go, (Y/N). Never again.”

You didn’t reply, but you pulled him closer to you. His lips were almost afraid of touching yours, and his hands were even more nervous as they sneaked down your torso and to your waist. You held on to him like never before in your life; you wanted to have him again, you wanted him to be yours and no one else’s. You wanted all the things that harmed him to disappear while he was in your arms.

He was broken, torn and mentally fucked up, but you were strong enough to love him because you had loved him all your life. He was the one who kept you up at night, and you didn’t care if he was going to keep you up at night due to his terrible PSTD; you’d be there for him because you wanted him to be less miserable. You wanted to make him less miserable.

“We already had the Netflix part… can we go chill right now?” He breathed against your lips, slowly roaming up his hands from under your shirt. “For old times’ sake?” He helped you wrap your legs around his waist, holding you effortlessly as he had always done. “Is this a yes?”

“This is a ‘you better treat me right, Stark’” You pressed your forehead against his and stayed there a minute, caressing his hair and smiling like an idiot. This was everything you ever wanted, and the jump even though seemed like jumping from the top of the Stark Tower, you were more than willing to do it.

There were no more questions that night.

an everyday spring conversation

I wrote a little drabble about your Elsewhere University. I hope it does justice! (Warning: profanity).

“These poor kids are gonna be eaten alive.” Rhea flaps a hand towards the high schoolers touring campus, but her attention is focused on her packet of fruit snacks. She shakes it violently. “Dammit, I can’t get this peach unstuck.”

Ivo reaches over, plucking the gummy from the package. He pops it into his mouth. It’s a little stale, and he has to bite down hard to split it into pieces. “You’re a freshman, Rhee. You didn’t know shit when you showed up.”

Rhea brings a hand to her chest, mock-scandalized. “Wow, talking shit and stealing my fruit snacks! We’re not friends.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ivo rolls his eyes. “You’re so melodramatic.”

“Maybe, but they really are gonna get fucked up.”

“Like you almost did? I saved your ass.” Ivo curves his lips into the lazy smirk he knows she hates. She grumbles something unintelligible, and he grins, showing off white teeth. He cups a hand to his ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

She shoves his shoulder roughly, blushing a little. “Don’t be an ass.”

Ivo throws his head back and laughs. The sun is bright. He almost can’t believe that it’s already time for the tours. If he didn’t have a semester’s worth of his organic chemistry notes laid out in front of him, he might think that the gentry were just fucking with their heads again. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“You know, Mallory was fucking around with one of them a couple weeks ago.”

Ivo hums - not disinterested, but not fully focused. He highlights another line of text. “Was she?”

“Yeah, I heard it was real bad. You know how the damn linguistics students are.”

He lets out a soft snort. “True. Do you remember Glenn?”

Rhea throws her head back, cackling. “He fucking threw his iron rings out the window because he was horny! Like, come on. That’s some next level thirst.”

Ivo looks up from his notes, grinning. Rhea’s laugh is infectious. Despite how high maintenance watching a freshman is, that damn laugh caught him, and he was hooked. He taught her to make salt lines, to always wear iron, to buy soaps at the market down the street and to not ask what’s in them. Now she’s all grown up. Oddly, he feels rather like a parent watching their child leave the nest.

“May I sit?”

Ivo’s eyes snap up. It’s a boy, tall and willowy. He has frog eyes.

“Of course,” Ivo says, and Rhea scoots over to make space. Always be polite. The boy ignores the new space, though, and balances on the bench arm, just next to Ivo. He gives him a grin that seems to show an impossible number of teeth.

“Not to intrude on your conversation, but I rather liked Glenn,” the boy says, eyes glinting. “He was honest, and a treat while he lasted.”

“I thought he was kind of a dick,” Rhea says, flicking through sheets in her portfolio. She doesn’t seem to realize what she’s said. The gentry’s eyes narrow.

“What’s that?” he asks, significantly less pleasant. He points towards it with a long fingernail.

Rhea tugs out a sheet with sketches autumn trees on it. She doesn’t make eye contact when she passes it over Ivo to the boy. “It’s my portfolio.”

The boy brightens significantly. “Do you do people?” He inspects the drawing, holding it in different angles in the light.

“Yeah, I do.”

He turns to Rhea with a wide grin. “Will you do me?”

Without any hesitation, she pulls out a sheet of thick paper. “Do you want me to draw you in this form, or…?” She lets her question trail off. The boy’s grin grows.

“Could you do it like this?” He smiles for her, and for a sliver of a second he is incredibly inhuman, with long horns and wide eyes that are too far apart. Rhea doesn’t flinch. Instead, she summons an eraser and a set of colored pencils from practically nowhere and begins to sketch from memory. For a moment, there is peaceful silence, and Ivo highlights another phrase.

“So, who’re you?”

Ivo looks up. The question stems more from boredom than from real curiosity, but he can’t leave it unanswered. “I’m Eye.”

“I’m See. How funny!” The gentry laughs a laugh without humor. “I’ll tell you what mine’s short for if you tell me what yours is short for.”

It’s not as if it’s his real name, anyways. “I’m Ivo.”

This earns him a pleased smile. “I’m Catahecassa.”

“That’s a nice name.”

“Of course it is. I wouldn’t settle for one that wasn’t nice.”

Ivo suppresses a sigh. The fae are always so vain.

“Excited to terrorize the newbies?” Ivo asks, waving a hand at the tour group that is somehow still in the courtyard. At least four overexcited high schoolers have their hands raised.

“Hell yeah,” Catahecassa chuckles, stretching. His shoulders pop unnaturally in their sockets. “These idiots don’t even know to wear their socks inside out. It’s fun to watch them try to figure out what the fuck is happening. You know, one of them has already fallen into the time fold by the fountain. The damn swamp hag his having a free-for-all.”

“Which one?”

“The one who lives in the time fold. Duh. I hate that bitch. Her hair is a fucking wreck.”

Ah, yes. The one who lives in the time fold. Excuse Ivo for not knowing how to do fucking origami with the time-space continuum, and for not knowing every swamp hag. Goddamn.

“It can’t be as bad as that spirit who haunted the tap in the lab last year.”

Catahecassa lets out a disdainful snort. “Ugh, he was an idiot. ‘Wah, the chemistry students don’t like me!’ Newsflash, asshole. Nobody likes you.”

“He almost gave me an aneurysm when I was cleaning out flasks.”

This earns a snicker. “The only thing he was good for.” He gives Ivo an up and down, curling his lip. “Chemistry majors are scum.”

Before Ivo can say something stupid, Rhea reaches out. “I’m finished,” she says, her paper covered in colors.

Ivo can’t really see it before Catahecassa takes it, but it makes the gentry’s face truly light up. “I do look good with that kind of horns. I fucking knew it.” Without so much as a thank you, he stands and leaves, walking impossibly smoothly. Not even Heelys could make someone walk that smooth.

“Well,” Rhea says, turning to Ivo with a grin. “I’m glad he liked it.”

 [x]

anonymous asked:

89 with Taehyung please

Lessons in Love (Taehyung x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hitting on me?”
Summary: Taehyung flirts like a 12-year-old, but you’re able to figure everything out anyways.
Word count: 1.5k words

Originally posted by helendrv

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you frowned, looking at your friend, Yuna, who had dragged you to her mathematics study group. “You know I’m terrible at math.”

“So this is a chance to learn!” Yuna answered with a smile. “We’ll help you study, it’s not a problem.”

“You and your friends are so smart,” you whined as Yuna dragged you through the library towards the private rooms. “I’ll look so dumb in comparison.”

“Trust me, they’re not like that!” Yuna comforted, finally stopping in front of a closed door. It led to the room her study group booked every Wednesday. “Besides, you’re like the English god, so if anyone needs help with that you can pay back the favour.”

“If you’re sure,” you conceded, albeit hesitantly. Yuna nodded enthusiastically and turned the knob, swinging the door open to reveal the small room behind.

There was a single table surrounded by three other students. One girl, who you vaguely recognized, was sitting closest to the door. The head of the table was a boy named Namjoon, the certified genius on campus. Beside him was another boy, but this one you didn’t recognize.

He had messy brown hair and tanned skin. His lips were a little pouty, and his nose was strong. When your gaze traveled up, you saw that his dark, long eyes were ringed by thick eyelashes. He was also staring right back at you.

Blushing, you quickly averted your gaze and turned uncomfortably to Yuna.

“Hey guys!” she chirped. “This is my friend, Y/N. She’s in the other class, so that’s probably why you don’t recognize her.”

“Just to preface this, I’m pretty shit at math,” you said, wanting to address your discomfort immediately. “I know you guys are all really smart but I don’t want you to think I’m, like, taking advantage of you. If you need help in literally any other subject, I’m here.”

“Nah, no worries,” Namjoon responded with an easy smile. “We’re not math elitists or some shit. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I’m Jisoo,” the girl added dully, briefly glancing up from her laptop in front of her. You smiled, but Jisoo turned back to her screen too quickly to catch it.

You turned to the handsome boy beside Namjoon, waiting for him to introduce himself. He blinked owlishly at you for a moment, his face expressionless. Slowly, his eyes met yours and his mouth began to open.

“Your shirt looks weird,” he said. You looked down at your t-shirt, which had a print of an old anime series you used to watch.

“I, uh–you–okay?” you spluttered, confused by the boy’s comment.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon asked, bewildered. He turned to his friend, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you liked–ow!”

The boy turned to glare at his friend, and when you looked back at Yuna in confusion, she just rolled her eyes at you.

“Just ignore Taehyung,” Yuna snorted, grabbing your arm and leading you to the table. She pulled you down into the seat beside hers and turned to address the group. “So! Let’s start reviewing for the quiz next week.”


You glanced at the clock beside your computer. It read 3:04 AM. Groaning, you looked at the stacks of sheets in front of you, and then at the textbook filled with highlighted text and sticky notes. But for the hours you had spent studying, you learned next to nothing.

In a moment of desperation, you logged into Facebook and open your study group chat, which you had been added to after your first sit-in.

Y/N 3:06 AM

SOS!!! Is anyone online!!!

Tae Tae 3:10 AM

ya sup

Y/N 3:11 AM

I don’t understand anything??? Pls help

Immediately after you hit “enter,” Taehyung viewed the message. But no response came, and the typing bubble didn’t appear either. You broke out into a nervous sweat, overwhelmed by the fast approaching quiz and your lack of understanding of math in general.

Then, a message notification popped up onto your screen. Taehyung had messaged you separately from the group chat.

Taehyung 3:14 AM

lets just dm. dont wanna annoy the others

Y/N 3:14 AM

Ok

Taehyung 3:15 AM

so what don’t u understand?

Y/N 3:16 AM

Everything!!!! All the stuff we went over last meeting has completely left my brain.

Taehyung 3:17 AM

ok prepare urself this is gonna be a long lesson

So, for the next hour, Taehyung did his best to explain the different concepts and methods to you, while you scribbled notes furiously on your worn notebook. By the time he had went through all the material, your hand was throbbing and it was well past 4AM.

Y/N 4:37 AM

Thank you sooooooo much Taehyung! I owe you my life

Taehyung 4:38 AM

no thnx

Y/N 4:39 AM

Ok, rude. But seriously, thanks. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise

Taehyung 4:39 AM

no probs. but u owe me now so don’t forget

Y/N 4:40 AM

I won’t!!!!! You’re the best!

Taehyung changed your nickname to “idiot.”


The day of the quiz came quickly, but when you sat down at your desk, you felt more relaxed than in any other math class. This time, you were actually prepared and confident in your abilities. So when the quiz arrived, you whizzed through every page.

Everything Taehyung had explained to you was on the quiz. You were sure that if you found the quiz easy, Taehyung could probably do it in his sleep. Even though you thought he was a bit annoying, he still had saved your ass.

When the test period finally finished, you grabbed all your belongings and darted from the testing centre. You spotted one of your friends, Jungkook, dashing towards the exit as well.

“Hey, Jungkook!” you called. He turned around, and once he spotted you, he smiled and waited for you to catch up. “How was the quiz?”

“You know I’m the fucking worst at math,” Jungkook scowled, crossing his arms as you walked together. “Fuck, why is this a mandatory course. I’m in liberal arts for a reason.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, laughing humourlessly. “Luckily, this time I had help. The quiz wasn’t so–”

“Y/N!” someone yelled suddenly, their deep voice booming throughout the hall. Startled, you glanced up, spotting Taehyung a few meters away from you. He hurried over, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “How’d the quiz go?”

“Really well, actually,” you replied. “Everything you explained to me was on it, so I could answer all the questions.”

“No way,” Jungkook snorted. “Y/N, good at math? That’s fucking new.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung growled, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. “Watch yourself, you prick. Y/N isn’t stupid.”

“Woah, chill man,” Jungkook replied, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was making a joke. Calm yourself.”

“Let’s all just relax a little bit!” you exclaimed tightly, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and pulling him away from a very volatile Jungkook. He put up little resistance, letting himself be led around the building. When you reached an emptier hallway, you stopped and look back at Taehyung. “What was that all about?”

“He was implying you were stupid,” Taehyung mumbled, his eyes downcast. “And you tried really hard to study for this quiz.”

“You probably tried harder than me, if I’m being honest,” you said. “Plus, you call me stupid all the time. Are you the only one who can say that?”

“No,” he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes. He said something, but he was speaking too quietly for you to understand.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said,” Taehyung began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “your hair looks bad.”

Reflexively, you reached for your long hair. You had slept with it in a bun last night, so your hair fell in loose waves. Objectively, you knew it looked pretty nice. You looked at Taehyung, confused, but when you saw his expression, suddenly everything clicked.

His cheeks were dusted in pink, and his eyes were darting around everywhere but your face.

“Are you–are you hitting on me?” you asked slowly. Taehyung’s cheeks darkened into a deeper red, and he bit his lip. “Oh my god, seriously? Are you twelve or something?”

“What!?” Taehyung whined. “You’re cute and it’s intimidating! What else can I do?”

“Ask me for my number or something?” you suggested, trying to hold back laughter. “Like a normal person our age?”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Taehyung said, finally lifting his gaze to your face as he scratched his nape awkwardly, “can I cash in my favour for your number?”

“I think I can do that,” you smiled, reaching for Taehyung’s phone once he fished it out of his pocket. “I might even say yes to a date, too.”


RECEIVED 4:07 PM

hey dumbo

- Girl in Luv

Wow I’m done and it’s 3AM. Nice. This is unedited, so I’ll go back and make corrections later. Hope you all checked out our masterlist! Happy 3k woot woot! Thanks for everyone who’s stuck with us. We’re so glad you guys are enjoying our imagines. Happy reading

some ...angst anyone?

can we have a scenario where Izuku just ACCIDENTALLY brought up the bullying case to Katsuki while they are fighting (bc my bby cinammon roll is in too much hurt cause bakacchan kept shouting at him) 

——-

They’re at it again.

And they’re yelling over something stupid.  They can’t even remember how it started, or who said what first, but they can’t stop. They won’t stop, because that’s how their arguments always go.

Katsuki is wrong. Izuku is also wrong. They’re both in the wrong, but they keep yelling, because until they’re sick and tired, and can’t look at each other anymore,  they won’t stop.

Katsuki is closing the space between him and Izuku then, as he raises his voice louder. “ …And you act like its not a fucking problem! ”

Because it isn’t, really.

“Why should I?? It’s not anything you need to be worried about!  Why are you getting so angry??” Izuku presses his brows together and he inches himself toward the other. Their faces  are close,  they can feel the tense air between them as they glare into each other’s eyes.

Breaths heaving in annoyance and distress, they continue to stare each other down. Katsuki being unable to hold his anger well, opens his mouth again.

“Are you dumb, Deku?? Are you seriously askin why I’m angry? ”

And he reaches a hand out– he grabs onto Izuku’s wrist, and he regrets it right away, when he sees the sudden horror that forms in the latter’s green eyes. Because thats fear written on his face.

No, he doesn’t want to scare Izuku. Even if he did take his wrist, it wasn’t going to be to hurt him.

It isn’t bad intentions at all. He just wants to hold onto Izuku– Hold onto him tightly so he can’t run away. So they can argue their way through this dumb misunderstanding and pretend like it never happened, or laugh about it later.

“S..stop Kacchan!” Izuku snatches his wrist back and moves a few steps back.

“Deku–”

“Why are you acting this way- what were you going to do? Knock some sense into me like before?”

Then his mouth shuts instantly, and its his turn to feel regret. He swallows hard and suddenly his anger is gone. It dissipates faster than the blink of an eye, because Katsuki is just staring at him. There’s a hint of saddness and something close to realization painted all over his face. “K-Kacchan I didn’t mean-”

“So you think I’d do that? ” Katsuki isn’t yelling anymore.  Just speaking softly, more to himself than his boyfriend.  “You really think I’d throw a punch at your fuckin face..?”

“No. Kacchan, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean to say that.” Izuku’s voice is pleading, and it only becomes more weary when he sees tears beginning to wet Katsuki’s cheeks. “Kacchan, please-”

“I see. Okay. Whatever.”

Izuku is begging him more, hoping he can erase what he just said, but Katsuki is ignoring him,  brushing him off while he puts his shoes on.

Then he leaves.

 

And Izuku is sitting alone in the house now,  going through the argument that just happened, in his head.  Why did it start?  How did it escalate this far? Why would he say something like that?

Because he knows Katsuki. He loves Katsuki. He trusts him. So why did he draw back in fear? And why did he bring up the past?

Izuku hates himself more than anything right now.. he doesn’t know what to do but wait for Katsuki to come back. He has to eventually, doesn’t he? They live together. They argue all the time. Its just what goes with clashing peronalities, doesnt it? So Katsuki will come back. And Izuku will mend things.

But he doesn’t come back. Not until at least 4 am, anyway. Izuku had made his bed on the sofa, waiting for his significant other to return.

When Katsuki walks through the front door he looks at Izuku before going straight to the bedroom.  He’s tired, hes stressed, he’s cried all self hatred and anger out,  so he’s ready to talk to Izuku when he wakes. Of course, it occurs faster than he thought.

The sound of the open and close of the doors in the house stir Izuku enough to wake him. And he sits up rather quickly, searching in the darkness for the familiar face.

“Kacchan..” His voice is soft, when he enters the room, and Katsuki lifts his gaze from his hands to the other. Izuku keeps his distance, while he watches. “..Kacchan..I’m really–”

“Deku. I’ve thought things through.”

There’s silence between them. Its only a few moments,  but to Izuku it feels like an eternity. “..We should break up. ”

Suddenly everything is going blurry. Izuku blinks his eyes once, trying to clear his vision–blinks again, because its still all a blur. When he blinks a third time, thats when he feels the hot tears start spilling down his cheeks and he realizes that he’s crying. 

Katsuki is avoiding eye contact as he speaks.  “Clearly we don’t trust each other as much as we thought.  I don’t blame you.  I hurt you so fuckin bad before. I thought you were crazy for even wanting to date me. I thought things could really work between us.. But you made it kinda obvious today that there’s still distrust and uncertainty.  So.. yeah. We should just end it now. There’s others that’re more deserving of you. Todoroki likes you.  Mirio does. Iida, might.  You got an endless list really. So do you really need me?”

There’s more silence. Katsuki is rubbing at his neck slowly, keeping on his ‘cool’ act. Though he can only manage to keep it up as long as he looks anywhere but at the one before him.

“No.. No,  Kacchan, please..” Izuku says between sobs. His hands are up against his face, so his words are coming out muffled. “I don’t want you to leave-I don’t want to leave you! I’m sorry for what I said,  I don’t know what made me say it!” He coughs a bit,  before continuing. “I love you. I trust you-  I didn’t mean to hurt you.. when we argue, sometimes I can’t help but remember back then. And it isn’t because I don’t trust you,  its just out of habit.. and when I said what I did.. It was stupid.  I’m stupid!” He shakes his head pulls his hands away from his face, finally looking at Katsuki. “Im so sorry.. I’m an idiot..”

Katsuki is watching him now. And he’d be a huge liar if he said it didn’t hurt to see Izuku crying like that. He can’t help but think he’s taking things too far, but despite Izuku apologizing now, he had to have meant what he said.  He doesn’t have the trust Katsuki thought he did. He’s afraid that Katsuki will hurt him. He thinks Katsuki will turn back to what he was.

“..Sorry, Deku.” He says. “..I just think it’d be better to stay apart.”

He leaves it at that.

Izuku continues trying to talk to him–trying to make things right.  He has to fix what he broke, because surely this isnt going to be their last fight. Katsuki is only saying this because he’s upset. They’re going to fix it– Izuku is going to fix it.

But days start to pass, and they don’t see each other.

Katsuki took majority of his things and left. He’s staying with Kirishima, and despite Izuku’s efforts to talk to him, there’s no luck.

Weeks pass.

There’s not a moment when Izuku isn’t thinking about Katsuki, and vice versa. Izuku is starting to lose hope, starting to think that its really over.

 

He’s sitting on his own in the living room one evening, when he hears a knock on the door. He stands himself up,  expecting Ochako to be there because he had invited her over for a bit. ( Anything to help get his mind off things.)

But when he opens that door and looks,it isn’t her.

Izuku’s eyes widen slightly, tears starting to fill them.

Katsuki is standing there, bag slinging over his shoulder. He’s looking down at the ground, trying to figure out what words to say.

“Deku.” He adjusts his stance,  before glancing up finally.  “…Deku, I’m sorry.. I was being a bastard by ignoring you. I love you … do you wanna take me back?”

Izuku isn’t wasting another moment before his arms are thrown around the other.   He’s letting out a sob,  as he buries his face into Katsuki’s chest. “D-don’t apologize-  its all my fault!  I hurt you and I’m the one who should be sorry–”

“Shh..” Katsuki lifts a hand up and sets it into the curly green locks,  stroking them gently.  “We both were wrong.. and.. After takin time to think about it,  I realized if you’re still feelin afraid it isn’t your fault.. you’re doin your best.  And that just means.. I gotta try harder too. We’re gonna get better.”

Izuku nods,  sniffling. A small smile forms on his lips and his voice is muffled.

“Okay, Kacchan.. okay… I love you. I’m sorry..”

“Me too.. I’m sorry and I love you too.” Then he kisses the top of his head.

Things I Have Been Reading ...(Feb)

This really has been a labour of love because I have tried to post it twice only to have my laptop crash and have to start again!!!  

As I have been off work for the past few weeks I have had the pleasure of reading a butt load of fic (I believe that is the technical term).  I have also had some AMAZING recommendations sent over to me and please do keep them coming, feel free to tag me or send a link or send it to me by telepathy (although maybe not the last one because my telepathy skills are a little off atm).  It was quite tricky to narrow down this months list but here are some of my favourite things that I have been reading in February 2017.

P.S. If you make your way through all this and still want something to read then check out @lucifersagents who has been writing the most amazing drabbles and I love each and every one of them!

Supernatural:

A huge thank you for all the SPN recs I’ve got this month! I have found some amazing writers who I hadn’t come across before so please keep them coming or there is a good chance this list will just be Gabe filth.

Pull them Harder@wayward-mirage gifts us all with this amazing Gabriel filth.  As a Gabe girl I have to say this fic gave me several ideas which I will probably never actually get round to writing.

Bringing Tidings Of Joy@bkwrm523 has written this fantastic little series and I urge all Gabe girls to pay special attention to part 2 before going having a cold shower.

While You Were Gone @luci-in-trenchcoats has killed me this this fic.  I haven’t got the words to describe how amazingly sweet and adorable this is a fantastic insight into Dean that warmed my heart.

You - @eyes-of-a-disney-princess is a writer who has recently come to my attention and from what I have read so far I expect great things.  This bit of Dean smut is fantastic and please feel free to make your way through her masterlist!

Off Limits –   @dancingalone21  I cannot begin to tell you how much I adore this fic, it is super cute and the relationship between Sam and Dean is brilliant.

Winchesters Don’t Giggle –  @rizlowwritessortof I read this a while back and it made me smile like an idiot.  I do love the softer side of Dean.

Research –  @nichelle-my-belle Here is another writer I have only just found but after making my way through her masterlist is definitely on my favourites list! This Sam smut is amazing and you should go follow her and read all the stuff!

Unexpected@percywinchester27 After reading this I want to have Sams babies. Lovely and fluffy and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Marvel:

So as you can see this list is quite Steve/Bucky heavy so if you come across ANY other marvel fics that you think I should read PLEASE let me know. I love Steve and Buck but I’m a sucker for the underappreciated characters.

Not Over You@amarvelouswritings This series is killing me a little but in a totally good way.  

Try Again@promarvelfangirl A fine example of the breaking up and getting back together genre beautifully written and I may have had a stupid grin on my face quite a bit when reading this one.

Dirty Minded Cap – Steve - @fvckingsteverogers As a Steve/Chris girl I have no idea how I have not found this blog sooner but here is another masterlist I will be pouring over.  This Steve smut made me all tingly in my lady parts and I think I’ve found another favourite blog!

Homesick @thorne93 I have been reading this series from the very first part and as always my girl here has schooled me in the art of writing.  The fabulousness of series like this is why I don’t really write series because the bar is set really high x

What This Was@amarvelouswritings  THIS SERIES IS AWESOME AND I CAN’T WAIT FOR MORE AND I WANT TO BE ON HER FOREVER TAG LIST BECAUSE EVERYTHING I HAVE READ OF HERS IS AMAZING!  Sorry, fangirling a little there but in all seriousness, you should go follow her.

Screwed - @just-call-me-mrs-captain  It is entirely possible that I binge read this entire series and squealed several times.  Bucky is so brilliantly written here, go read it now!

Hallelujah –  @bovaria brings you a bit of Bucky angst for you all.  You may want to get a box of tissues handy before you start this one, you have been warned.

I think she likes you@emilyevanston I am feeling the whole coffeeshop AU thing right now and as someone who adores nerdy Nat this fic is super sweet.  The interactions between Bucky and Clint are brilliant and I pretty much had a grin on my face all the way through reading this one.

Exs and Ohs –  @civilwarkilledme I feel there should be more T’Challa, especially if this is what is created!  

Star Trek:

I’m a little light on Trek fics (possibly because I’ve been drowning in the Steve/Bucky trash) so send me your recs and hopefully they will make my list!!!

Carnival Fun@atari-writes creates a lovely version of the gorgeous doctor in this fic and I absolutely loved it.  

Stop Apologizing@kaitymccoy123 a super sweet bit of Bones here.  It’s all fluffy and awkward and really cute.

More Than You Know and The One by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord are two amazing bits of the lovely Captain. A beautiful little fic and an wonderful series that are well worth a read but then again she is one of my favourite writers and I would put everything she writes on this list if I thought I could get away with it.

Other Fandoms and Fics:

Love and Spiders@little-red-83.  So I fully admit I’m a Fili girl and this adorable little fic crossed my path a while back and I thought it was super cute and super sweet and as someone who is terrified of spiders this would be something I would do. Plus @little-red-83 is my tumblr twin so go check out her work.

Sleepy –  @chrisevans-imagines I am a total sucker for a daddy Chris Evans fic right now and this one is super cute.

Treat You Better  - @dont-hate-relate-pls has written this beautiful almost heartbreaking little fic about the lovely Rob Benedict and she writes him so well I can hear his voice in my head as I read it.

Let Me Show You @wayward-mirage is a writing genius who I adore and her Mark Pelligrino fics like this one are absolutely sublime.  Go follow her and show her a little love.

Donnie x Reader - @totally-turtle-imagines this is a really sweet little imagine about how super cute, fluffy and awkward Donnie can be.

Sharpie Promises @another-tmnt-writer.  This Soulmate AU is adorable and the unsure, insecure side of Raph just makes me want to give him a hug.  I am really enjoying seeing what this fandom and this blog has to offer. Also check out Hold Me for an extra slice of @another-tmnt-writer’s Raph.

Keep reading

Drabbling drabbles that drabble. Based on OTP questions I found when I was bored, thought I’d share them, hope you like it… *hides under the bed*

Unbeta’d AF.


Who usually has nightmares?

Betty wakes up in her college room, looking for the source of whatever it is that woke her. After a second, her phone vibrates again and she picks it up, instantly more alert as she reads the name of the caller.

“Jug, hey… are you okay?” she asks, rubbing her eyes,  as soon as the video call connects showing a rather disheveled Jughead on the screen. His hair is sticking in different directions like it does when he passes his hand through it several times­.

“Yes… I’m sorry I woke you up, Betts.” Jughead says, sighing, not looking at her directly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t mind, dummy.” She tells him, wishing she could brush her fingers through his hair herself. “Did you… did you have a nightmare?”

Jughead stares at his screen with his lips pursed, looking at her face and pang of longing rushes through him. “Yeah.” He answers, voice suddenly hoarse, and he rubs his eyes. “Shit, I feel like an asshole having a nightmare, calling you, waking you up in the middle of the night when you’re tired. You’ve been busting your ass working and I’m an idiot calling at 2 am,  I’m-”

“Hey, hey” She interrupts his agitated rant. Jughead is breathing hard on the screen.  “None of that. I don’t mind, you know that, Jug. I always have time for you… I’m glad you called me, do you wanna talk about your nightmare?”

He sighs again, his bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout as he collapses onto his bed. “Not really.“ he mumbles. “The details are fuzzy but… I remember you were the one who turned up dead instead of Jason, my dad standing over you with a gun…” his voice drops on that last sentence, only barely above a whisper.

“Oh, Juggie…” the mention of their teenage years making her stomach flip a little.

“It felt so real… that’s why I called you, I wanted to hear your voice.” His cracks a little as he speaks. He moves to lay on his side, looking at her. “I miss you, I wish you were right here with me, stealing the covers.”

Her chest tightens as she chuckles at his words. She feels his absence like a phantom limb sometimes, a part of her that should be there but isn’t. Betty thinks of his (their, a voice in her head provides) appartment in New York, their save haven and the strong sense of longing makes her close her eyes for a second. She misses life next to him, the domesticity they had so carefully built.

“I miss you too, Jug. Every day.” she tells him with a sad smile. “But that was just a dream, I’m still here and I’m okay… scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout, Betty, though I do appreciate the sentiment.” Jughead says, smiling softly.

“Just two more weeks, okay? Then I’ll be home…” she tells him, not knowing who she’s really trying to comfort.

“Yeah…”

“And, Juggie?” Betty starts. “Don’t ever hesitate to call me or feel bad about it.”

Jughead’s face softens when she says it, his throat bobbing.

“Scout’s honor.” He says, smiling at her chuckle. “I love you, Betty.” His voice is as intense as his eyes.

“I love you too, Jughead.”


Who asks who out on the first date?

Jughead hangs up the phone in a haze.  As he talked with Jellybean she, bless her beautiful soul, had asked a question that had knocked him off his feet.

“So, where you did you go for your first date?”

Logically, he knew he might be overreacting but logic was somewhere else right now, leaving him with a thousand awful thoughts and questions. Sure, they’ve been busy with the whole solving-a-murder-and-getting-Polly-back thing but this felt like something he should’ve notice.

He still remembers the quiet dreams he had to himself once he realized how fast his heart beat was around her. The dinners, the movie dates, the sleepy smiles and lazy cuddles on a sunday… and even deeper within the darkest lands of his heart, the white picket fence, the same green eyes every day of his life and a ring that once there, would never be removed.

Shaking his head, he removes himself from his mind and back into the present.

The Blue and gold offices are quiet. Most of the school is already home as Jughead and Betty type away on their laptops. Well, at least Betty was. Jughead himself was pretending to work as he furtively looked at the blonde on the desk at his right, trying to decide what to do or say. The irony of a wanna-be writer being speechless was not lost on him, but hey… everyone had bad days.

“What?” Betty says, frowning slightly at him.

“What?” Jughead replies intelligently, still a bit lost in his thoughts.

“You were looking at me funny… why were you looking at me funny?” she asks, leaving the pen and folding her arms across her chest, leaning them on the desk.

“I wasn’t looking at you funny.” Jughead tells her. “I was thinking.”

“What about?” Betty continues, getting up and starting to walk in his direction.

“You?” it sounds like a question as she finally reaches his desk, leaning her hip against it looking down at him.

Betty’s expression softens a little.The sun is hitting her just right and green eyes shine like two beacons, her hair turning almost gold in the light. She’s beautiful. She’s so beautiful he feels his throat close a little, making it difficult to breathe.

“Will you go out with me?” He blurts, the words escaping before he can stop them. Jughead feels his eyes widen and makes a choked off noise.

“I mean…” Betty’s frown is deep. She takes a step forward before sitting in Jughead’s lap, looking directly at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong but… I thought we already were.” She says, the smallest of smiles on her face now. Jughead chuckles nervously. What the hell was wrong with him?

“No… I mean, yes. I meant going out on a date with me.” he replies, boldly snaking his arm around her waist. “I’ve noticed we still haven’t been to one and I’d like to take you.”

“Oh…” Betty says, eyebrows rising and smile growing. “Of course! I’d love to.” She puts her hand on his cheek, softly caressing it with her thumb. “What did you have that face, then? You looked preoccupied.”

“Not preoccupied… just thoughtful.” He says, leaning into her touch and kissing her palm softly.

Betty pulls him closer, her arms around his neck as she rests her cheek on the top of his head. Jughead relishes on the closeness, closing his eyes hoping his heart doesn’t burst out of his chest. These are his favorite moments with her, when the world seems to stop just for them.

They share the silent for a few minutes until he speaks.

“I was thinking I’m scared. I’m very invested in… whatever you wanna call this.” Jughead’s voice is only barely above a whisper but she hears him nonetheless.

Betty pulls away from him enough to look at him in the eye. “I’m just as invested as you are, Juggie. I want this to work. I honestly didn’t think about the dates thing because to me it doesn’t matter as long as I get to spend time with you… be it pursuing clues or on an official date.” Her smile is bright, eyes piercing. “I do like the B word, though… it fits.” she says, suddenly shy.

Jughead can’t resist it anymore so he leans forward, brushing his lips against her in a gentle kiss, trying to convey all he’s feeling through that contact. The kiss turns feverish for a second before softening again, leaving them breathing mouths inches apart.

“An impromptu trip to Pop’s sounds amazing right now. Just the two of us… what do you say?” Betty asks him, bumping her nose with his.

Jughead grins at her, borderline wicked.

“It’s a date.”

Revenge Dance

Group: BTS

Pairing: JUNGKOOK X READER

Excerpt:  “ Now all he had to do was have you begging for him back so he could apologise, and he knew your weaknesses.

Genre: angst, BBMAs au

Length: 1k

A/N: i saw a jungkook thigh appreciation post and whoops my hand slipped..

Up tomorrow: JIMIN ( click here for the complete BBMAs masterlist )

Originally posted by the9397


“All you care about is your image,” you threw the bracelet he had bought for you at his hard chest, it bounced off with barely a flinch from him, “your music, your dancing, yourself!” You pulled the promise ring from your finger throwing it at his face before someone wrapped their arms around your torso to stop you from doing anything else.

Jeongguk stood there before he ran a hand through his hand aware you wouldn’t listen to anyone when you were this angry, before looking you straight in the eye, “You just had to pull the shit right before the awards?” You pulled against the arms restraining you, hands balling into fists, getting ready to punch his devastatingly sharp jaw so hard it would shatter.

Keep reading

April 2nd.

This is for @sad-af1121 @thatawkwardtinyperson and @bxckyfxcknbxrnes because they are awesome and I wish I can be half as good as them. 

Notes: started as a drabble but now we are here. super spur of the moment. fluff. tell me what you think! my second fic ever. be nice pls?

Originally posted by petallica


April fools!

Those two words keep playing in your head over and over again. You’re an idiot. You are a self proclaimed idiot. Jokes on you this time. 

You turn to your side and look at your boyfriend sleeping right next to you. Ugh. He’s perfect even when he’s sleeping and here you are trying to not to work yourself into an anxiety attack over your stupid mistake. 

I’m an idiot. Who the fuck can’t tell their boyfriend that the joke you proclaimed as an April Fool’s prank is the truth?

It’s not like you planned for your joke to be a joke. You just found out on April Fool’s day.  That little blue stick does not lie. Nor did the ten others you made Wanda go get you and swear on her life that she would not tell anyone about what is going on with you or…rather in you. 

And when you went to tell Bucky, Bucky, the man with the steel blue eyes and the wicked smile and the love of your life that you are pregnant,  p r e g n a n t, you froze. You panicked. And his shocked expression did not make you feel any better so you thought quick and told Bucky it was a joke and was crushed when he sighed in relief. 

You look over Bucky now,  to glance at the clock on your bedside table. 12:01. It’s officially April 2nd. It’s no longer April Fool’s. You’re still pregnant. It’s not a joke. It’s April 2nd, and you’re still pregnant. 

“Babe as much as I love to keep you up at night, why are you awake?” You flinch as you glance at Bucky. He peers at you with one eye open and furrows his brows. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck. He’s awake. fuck. fuck. fuck. 

I swear it’s nothing babe, just going over the mission details for tomorrow in my head” blabbering it out like an idiot that you are and turning to your side only to bury your face into the pillow and hope to God that Bucky does not feel you try to avoid the subject.

“You know, I would believe you if you haven’t been awake and fidgeting for the last three hours” Bucky chuckles and pulls you closer. 

“Talk to me doll, what’s on your mind?” Bucky turns you over and you peer up at him. You search your mind for the right words. 

Hey Buck, remember that time after the mission when the adrenaline was getting to us and we got back to the jet and I tackled you and you took my pant– or that time during Tony’s party last month when you slid your fingers under my dress– or two weeks ago in the shower when you took me up against the wall and—

“Babe I can practically see you thinking but I need words.” He smirked as he leans closer into you, your foreheads are touching at this point. 

“So funny story…” you begin and you look up once again into those eyes. 

I’m fucked. Well we fucked. And now you’re fucked. Because we fucked. And we made a baby. I’m pregnant. Jokes on you and me. Oh shit.

Talk to me doll, you’re starting to worr–” he’s cut off before he can finish the sentence. 

“So I know I told you it was an April Fool’s joke, but I’m pregnant. I’m actually pregnant. And I took about ten tests to make sure I was because who the fuck learns they are pregnant on April Fool’s? And I tried to tell you but then I panicked because you didn’t plan for this, I mean we didn’t plan for this and I saw the relief in your eyes when you heard me say April Fool’s. but Bucky, it’s officially April 2nd, and I’m pregnant. I’m actually pregnant. Please don’t ha–”

This time, you’re the one that’s cut off from your babbling. Bucky’s lips smash into yours and you can’t help but moan at the force. His tongue teases yours a little and you blink your eyes a few times because you are left dazed after a kiss like that. 

“You’re pregnant?” “You’re actually pregnant?” “I’m going to be a Dad?” he whispers as he pulls slightly away from you. 

You stiffen as you come back and hear Bucky’s words. You look at him and you see the biggest smile on his face. 

“I’m pregnant” You say with a little more confidence. Bucky leans back into you.  “I was hoping it wasn’t a joke when you told me yesterday doll, I only looked relieved because I was trying to hide how disappointed I was.”

This time you’re the one who yanks Bucky towards you and in the process he’s on top of you. You reach up and give him a quick kiss before leaning up to his ear. 

“You’re going to be a Daddy, Buck. No April Fool’s joke this time. Happy April 2nd Bucky.” your breath tickling his skin as you trail back to his lips. 

“Happy April 2nd Doll, best non April Fool’s joke ever.” He leans down and joins you into your kiss. 

April Fool’s didn’t turn out so bad.


Mission Accomplished

Request:  protective bucky where his lady has to work w/ an ex for a mission and he. is. not. having. It.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language

Originally posted by coporolight

“Bucky, baby please. It’s just a mission. You KNOW nothing is going to happen, you know I’m completely dedicated to you.” Running my hand up and down his only flesh arm. He looks down at me, unease is present in his eyes.

“It’s not YOU, doll. I trust you. It’s him, I know he’s going to try something with you.”

The topic of this miniscule argument being, I have been chosen to go on a mission. Not with Bucky, no. But with my ex, and he is just not having it.

“Bucky, even if he did try something you don’t have anything to worry about, you know I am completely dedicated to you and ONLY you.” He rolls his eyes, putting his head in his hands.

“The fact that he would even TRY to hit on you, KNOWING you’re with me is insulting to me as a man.” I sigh.

“Bucky, I understand babe, really I do. But there’s nothing I can do about it, you know I don’t get to pick who my partner is.” Bucky stands up, growling and leaving the room.

I debate going after him, but I know there’s no point, I won’t get anywhere. He just needs some time. I just hope he’ll get over it and kiss me goodbye before I have to leave.

-

Standing by the quinjet, about ready to leave and I still haven’t seen Bucky. Getting frustrated, I step on the jet, not looking forward to Eric giving me shit about Bucky not showing up.

“Aw, what? Tin man didn’t show up?” I’m about to turn around and slap him, but I don’t get to.

“Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?” I turn to look at Bucky. He’s grinning, he’s also dressed in his uniform. I run up to him and embrace him.

“Bucky!” He wraps me in his arms, lifting me up and kissing my head.

“W-what are you dressed in your uniform for?” I run my eyes up and down his incredibly sculpted body.

“Why, I’m going with you of course.” My eyes had to have looked like they were gonna bulge out of my eyes.

“Wait, really?” He smiles, nodding. “Oh thank God..” I whisper so only he can hear me. Bucky chuckles. Eric is sitting in the back of the jet, just watching us.

“Wait, so you’re coming too?” Bucky’s soft eyes harden when he looks towards him.

“Yeah, you got’a problem with that?”

“No, I think that’s a good thing, keep her from trying to jump my bones, ya know?”

This guy’s a fucking idiot. Bucky ‘murder strut’s’ towards him, and Eric backs up against the wall.

“Hey man, I was just kidding.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“It’s a good thing I’m going with you. You wouldn’t stand a chance with this pussy around.” I can’t help but laugh. Ah man, this is going to be one hilarious trip, for sure.

A/N: This is just a little drabble, I thought it would be cute!

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @marvel-fanfiction, @cassandras-musings

♦: Slow dancing // Iwaoi

no one asked for this but I wanted to write it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


It’s calm. Soft.

They’re in the kitchen, standing side by side at the sink. Tooru’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and is cleaning the last few dishes, arms a little blotchy from the hot water.

There’s music spilling from the radio on the counter, soothing and light, and Tooru is humming along and swaying his hips ever so slightly, brushing against Hajime’s from time to time.

Hajime takes the plate that Tooru holds out to him and begins to dry it, small smile teasing at his lips.

It’s so calm, somehow, like a moment taken out of the usual rush of their lives. It’s nice.

The evening sun filters through the window to their left, bathing Tooru in soft, golden light.

Hajime’s hands still and he finds himself watching him, drawn to his glow like he’s always been, from the moment they met, years and years and years ago.

He’d been blinded, back then. Tooru was never quite as ethereal, quite as unbelievable as Hajime perceived him at first - he soon learned that his friend cried messy, heavy rivers, that he could rise and scream and scorn and hate with more passion than Hajime had ever seen in anyone.

But that’s what makes him perfect, Hajime thinks, in these tiny, soft moments he gets to share with him. He gets to stand beside the hurricane and watch him conquer - but Tooru has so many more sides that no one else knows.

Like the way his face softens when he smiles, the genuine, real and happy smile that reaches his eyes and makes Hajime want to pepper his skin with kisses. Or the way his body arches under Hajime’s fingers - he knows just where to touch, to kiss, how to love him right until he comes apart beneath him, blushing and breathless and elated. The way he’ll lean into Hajime or embrace him at the most unexpected times; on the couch, waiting in line at their favorite café, meeting with friends… or when they’re out shopping, for a walk, in the shower, or on the roof, with a blanket of stars spread out above them.

Hajime takes all these moments and treasures them, holding them close to his heart. It’s his, his, and he couldn’t be happier.

“Iwa-chan?”

Tooru’s voice brings him back - he’s holding out the last plate, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “You still with me?”

Hajime lowers his hands, setting down the dish and the towel he’s holding and leaning in, closing the distance between them and pressing a chaste kiss to Tooru’s lips.

Tooru blinks, and then a smile breaks across his face. “What was that for?”

Hajime smiles, too, and shrugs. “…’cause I can,” he says, turning his attention back to the half-dried plate.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Tooru’s still watching him, and his smile lingers.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru says finally, quietly, lowering the plate back into the water.

“Hm?”

Hajime turns back to him, and is met with another kiss, a little more firm and determined than before. He chuckles into it, and Tooru lets out a tiny, elated laugh.

“…dance with me,” he says, then, and holds out his hand. It’s still wet, but Hajime honestly doesn’t care right now, even as the droplets that start trickling down his arm when he links their fingers, tangling them together.

“‘m not good at dancing,” he says, because he feels he has to - but he already knows he’s going to cave, because it’s Tooru who asked. He’s already pulling him close, anyway, like it’s an instinct, and bringing up his other arm to Tooru’s waist.

Tooru smiles like he’s won (he has) and steps in close, until their chests are only inches apart.

“…sure it’s not just cuddling you want?” Hajime whispers, pressing their foreheads together. But of course he’s hopeless, already gently starting to spin them around, in time with the slow song washing over them from the radio.

Tooru huffs out another laugh, and it’s like it lights up the room. “…can’t I have both?” he asks, with a grin that says he knows he can.

“Idiot,” Hajime says fondly, before closing the distance and kissing him again.

Tooru beams. “It’s more fun this way.”

“…you like seeing how helpless I am, huh.”

At this he rolls his eyes, taking a step to speed up their pace just a little. “Think you got that backwards, Iwa-chan.”

Not wanting to be outdone, Hajime tightens his grip around Tooru’s waist and tugs him closer, making him squawk in surprise.

“It’s not a contest,” he mumbles. (Not really, anyway.)

“It’s not?” Tooru parrots, feigning surprise. “But I’m sure I was winning! I definitely love you more, Iwa-chan!”

“Highly unlikely.”

“Positive.”

“Impossible.”

“Oh, yeah?” The corners of Tooru’s lips are twitching upwards, he can’t hold it back for very much longer, but Hajime forces a serious expression onto his own face.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’ve been hopeless since the beginning.”

Tooru’s grin is radiant, breathtaking, and just as hopelessly gone as Hajime feels. Warmth spreads through his chest.

“Me, too,” Tooru breathes, leaning in so he can rest his head against Hajime’s shoulder. Almost on instinct, Hajime untangles their fingers and runs his hand up into Tooru’s hair, lazily tousled and messy, the way Hajime likes it best.

“There’s no way you win this one,” he mumbles, breathing him in. “None at all.”

“Then we’ll have to settle for a draw,” Tooru whispers back, nudging Hajime’s neck with his nose, “‘cause I love you ridiculously much. More than anything, or anyone.”

Hajime squeezes him close at the waist. They’ve stopped moving, with Tooru backed up against the counter behind him, dishes and towels forgotten by the sink.

“Endlessly,” Hajime tells him. “More every day.”

He feels the euphoria building in both of them, chest to chest, heart to heart. Too close, almost, but intoxicating. He’d do anything to keep this for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” Tooru says, muffled and into his shoulder, voice breaking just a tiny, tiny bit. “I love you, Hajime.”

He’s never heard anything more perfect.

“I adore you,” Hajime whispers back, unable to keep from sounding too choked up.

“Aw,” Tooru says, teasing, like he hasn’t got tears prickling behind his eyelids. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Hajime mumbles, with no real impact. “Shut up and come here.”

“I’m already here, Iwa-chan.” He squeezes Hajime’s waist for emphasis.

“Closer,” Hajime says, like there is such a thing. Closer. Closer, closer, closer.

Tooru tightens his grip, and oh - there is.

What’s missing is close enough.

“…kinda doesn’t feel like enough, right?” Tooru mumbles. Always right there with him.

“‘S okay.” You’re right. But it’s okay.

“I get it though,” Tooru whispers, “promise. I know you. I know you.”

I know what you’re feeling. I feel it, too.

Hajime smiles, lips brushing Tooru’s temple. Yes, he does. He’s the only one who does.


ao3

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