last one i swear i just wanted to do halt and will

i have thought a lot about censorship and what is “appropriate”. not a lot of people know this, but lolita was written to show what we allow on our bookshelves: there being no swear words in it meant it was free from censorship. a book about child molestation was allowed because it didn’t explicitly use the word “fuck”. he wrote it to show we don’t really care about protecting children, and it ended up being seen as a romance.

someone once told me - actually, many people have - that lgbt content isn’t appropriate for children. any content. not just kissing. i’m drowned in questions: “won’t the parents have to explain it?” “kids shouldn’t be thinking about sex at this age, or do you think differently?” “what will the kids think?”

at six i saw disney movies. people kiss and get married. i didn’t ask “what does that mean.” i didn’t ask “are those people going to have sex?” i didn’t ask anything, because i was six, and no six year old thinks twice about these things. nobody ever “explained” being straight to me, it was a fact, and it existed, and i was fine with that. why would being gay require a thesis, i wonder.

someone once told me that the one of the reasons people hate lgbt individuals is because they can’t see us as anything but sexual. we’re not people, so much as sinners. that they don’t see love, they see sex. just sex. it’s perversion, not a matter of the heart. only of the body.

i think i was in my early twenties before i saw someone like me. 

how old were you, though, before you saw violence? before you saw sexual assault on tv? i think something like that is only pg-13, and if it’s implied, they can get away with anything. i remember watching things and learning about blood, but knowing sex - sex was what was really wrong. sex was always rated r. sex was always kind of a bad word. i was told a lot that i wasn’t ready.

i had a dream last night that i made a site where people could ask any question they wanted about sex and get answered by a professional. it was shut down in moments because 15 year olds wanted to know if it should hurt, if “double-bagging” was a real thing, if this, if that. we shudder. don’t let the children know about that! 

but at thirteen i had seen enough violence it no longer struck me. i couldn’t say “fuck” but i knew that if you break your femur, you can bleed out internally in under half an hour. in school i wasn’t allowed to write about loving girls because what would the administration think - but i could write about wanting to kill myself and people would say how lovely, how blistering.

i have thought a lot about censorship. sometimes people on this site try it with me: don’t write this, don’t be so nasty. some of it is intrinsic. we know as people with a uterus not to complain about “that time of the month”, we know better than to talk about sexual assault (how shameful), we know that talking about a vagina is somehow scandalous. i can say “dick” and nobody questions me. some people only refer to the bottom half of me by “pussy”. they won’t wrap a mouth around “vagina” like it’s poison to them. even discussing this, that the language halts, that there’s an intrinsic desire to say “girls” instead of “women” - feels naughty, illicit. not for children.

the other day someone suggested i make my blog 18+. i said, okay, it deals a lot with depression and other problems that might be for a mature audience. oh no, they said, that’s not it, i think that’s helpful. i said, okay. so what is it then. well, you’re gay. you write about loving women. and i said, i don’t write about sex often and they said. it’s not about the sex. but wlw isn’t for a general audience. teenagers aren’t ready.

oh.

lolita is recommended for high school and up. i think about that a lot. i know girls who love it, who say it speaks to them on a deep level. it’s beautiful prose, after all. that was the whole point of the novel. something that looked like a rose but was intrinsically awful. i think about how if i was a model they’d want me to look young, thin, prepubescent. how my body would be sold and how through the mall i walk by images of barely-clothed women while mothers cannot breastfeed in public without fear of retribution. 

i think about how i can write a novel about violence and it will be pg-13 but if my characters say “fuck” twice it’s inappropriate. i said fuck three times so far in this post, which makes it only appropriate for adults. 

i think about that, and how my identity is something that people suggest lines up with a swear word. that people shouldn’t talk about it. that it’s a vulgarity. bad for children, harsh, confusing.

fuck. i love women. which one makes this only for those over eighteen.

Risking it all in a glance

“Draco… Draco.” 

His father’s voice sounded strained, almost like a scared whisper. He hesitantly stretched out his arm, his hand balled into a fist. Draco swallowed hard as several heads turned towards him, watched him. He was sure they all expected him to walk across the courtyard without hesitation. It was where he belonged after all.

All these years he had done as his father had said. He hadn’t defied him once. But now, everything in him screamed to stay where he was, not to go to his father. It came too late. What was the point in defying him now?

Harry Potter was dead. There was no hope left.

“Draco.”

Draco’s eyes darted to his mother. Her voice rang through him and immediately found its way to his heart, squeezing it violently. She took a step forward, smiling at him almost sadly.

“Come.”

Hesitating only a second longer, Draco started moving, his head bowed. He didn’t dare to look anyone in the eye.

Harry Potter was dead. What was the point in fighting?

Draco’s body went rigid when the Dark Lord enveloped him in his arms.

“Well done, Draco,” he whispered into his ear. Draco thought he was going to be sick. Silently, he made his way to his parents, avoiding his father’s waiting arms and grasping his mother’s hand instead.

He tried to suppress a sob when his eyes fell on Potter’s lifeless body, held tight by the half-giant. It made him want to scream, to sink to his knees and beg the heavens to return him. What were they supposed to do without Potter now? What was Draco supposed to do without him?

For the rest of his life, he would be haunted by the knowledge that the last time he had seen Harry Potter alive, the Gryffindor had saved his life, had saved him from the Fiendfyre. And what had Draco done? He had simply grabbed his wand when it had fallen out of Potter’s hand and had made a run for it.

His hand tightened around the wood, making his knuckles go white. It didn’t even feel like his wand anymore. It only reminded him of what he had done. It disgusted him.

He could barely listen as Longbottom stepped forward and told them it didn’t matter that Potter was dead. His heart gave another violent squeeze. He wished he could go back in time. Draco doubted it was in his power to save Potter, but he should have at least told him that he… that he…

Draco saw something sparkly out of the corner of his eyes when suddenly chaos erupted. Longbottom was holding something; it looked like a sword. Draco looked around, taking in the shocked faces of the Death Eaters. That’s when he finally saw it; Potter, jumping out of the half-giant’s arms. In this mere second, Draco’s whole world shifted. It was as if time was standing still. Potter was crouching on the ground, his face full of determination.

Draco’s mind was completely blank. He didn’t think, he didn’t question it when his feet started moving of their own accord.

“Potter!” His voice was choked, desperate. The feeling only intensified when their eyes met. Draco hadn’t thought he’d ever see those eyes again. It made him shiver. He didn’t think about repercussions, about what his parents would say, what the Dark Lord might do to him. How could he, when Harry Potter was alive?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifted his arm above his head and threw his wand with all his might. His heart hammered wildly against his chest as he watched Potter catch it mid-air.

They were saved. He was saved.

Even though relief flooded through him, at this point, Draco really didn’t care what happened to him anymore. He had experienced what it meant to lose  nearly everything.

Harry Potter was alive and that was all that mattered.


So, quick intermission because there’s this song you could listen to real quick. Yes, this was indeed inspired by a song originally sung by the Backstreet Boys lol. BUT can you honestly listen to it and tell me this is not one of the most drarry songs you’ve ever heard? I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed before! So, with that in mind, the story continues…


It was quick, fleeting, but it made Harry stop dead, the air completely knocked out of his lungs. Grey eyes, hesitant, sad, locked with his.

Someone bumped into him, breaking the eye contact. Harry whirled around, the shopping bag in his hand hitting the wizard beside him in the back.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. He quickly turned his head back down Diagon Alley, searching for grey eyes but there were just too many people.

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Mock up the courage

Bucky x reader

Notes: fluff, just pure fluff. 

A/N: Bucky is tired and needy and just wants to cuddle. (who. fuckin’. wouldn’t?!)

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

If there was ever something more adorable than Bucky being tired or in any way not feeling well, you’d never seen it. Now, the serum made sure he was never not feeling well, but it didn’t help exhaustion after a week long mission with only 2 hours of sleep a day.

This is why he came stumbling into your floor, somehow overriding every security protocol with his left over spy-skills, calling out your name at two in the morning.

Actually, it was more like a drawn out whine.

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Quiver [m]

Smut // How quiet can you be in a library? 

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the words on the book, your eyes have been going over the same paragraph for the last three minutes, trying to move on but losing concentration as the words began to shift and run into each other. Frustrated, you slam the book down. The sudden movement causes him to look up from his book.

“You okay?” He asks,

The urge to lash grows bigger, you are dumbfounded as to how he could sit there, face still and untelling of his devious ways.  “Of course.”, you say through gritted teeth.

“Really, cause your breathing-”

“Deep, I know.” You snap back, gripping the armchair as your foot incessantly taps on the floor. “Very deep,” you say under your breath.

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home sweet home; andreil
  • I can’t help but think a lot about Neil and Andrew just doing domestic, mundane, couple things.
  • Neil and Andrew at the grocery store. Neil noticing Andrew’s stocking up on all the sugary foods and beverages he can get his hands on, so he wanders off to the veggies and health food aisles to make sure Andrew balances his diet. “No more ice cream breakfasts, okay?” Neil says, when Andrew just shoots him a blank stare, Neil shrugs. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to keep your inevitable risk of diabetes at bay.” Andrew barely blinks. “You’re diabetes,” he mumbles. At this, Neil breaks into a small, slightly teasing smile, “Besides, I want you to cook for me.” “And I want you to shut up,” Andrew replies, dryly. “I guess neither of us are going to get what we want.” Despite this, slowly, steadily, Andrew does start improving his eating habits, and when he realizes that Neil is a disaster with an electric lighter after he almost burns down their kitchen twice, Andrew begins cooking for him on the regular. Neil always ends up staring at him while he cooks, and Andrew pretends like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t make him hyperaware of his every move. Bee suggests new recipes to him every weekend, and Andrew begins to cook so surprisingly often that Neil would never dare say it aloud, but he swears that Andrew might actually be enjoying it.
  • Neil gives Andrew a shoulder massage on the really bad days and distracts his mind with talks of the latest additions to the Fox lineup and how he thinks they need to up their game if they want to succeed. This is new. This feels new. Andrew is not used to this sort of thing and has trouble at first, tensing up against Neil’s touch almost immediately, and so Neil knows to be extra careful. This is alien territory for both of them because Neil has never known how to be gentle and Andrew has never known gentleness, but it turns out that Neil’s really good with his hands. Eventually, Andrew leans his head back against Neil’s stomach as he kneads the tension out of his muscles and just lets go. It’s difficult at first, because the last time Andrew allowed himself to be this defenseless, this bodily loose and relaxed… No. This was different. This was Neil. Neil would cross himself out a thousand times over at even the mere idea of hurting him. He was okay. He was… He was safe. After giving him a massage, Neil leans in to kiss Andrew’s neck, but before he has the chance, Andrew’s already flipped him over and straddling him, “Yes or no?” he mumbles gruffly, but Neil’s already choking out a hoarse, breathless fuck yes as Andrew runs his hands up his arms and entwines their fingers before entrapping him under his body with a vehement, sealing kiss that leaves them both gasping for breath. 
  • Andrew falling ill with the flu and insisting that he doesn’t get sick, even as he’s coughing up his lungs and running a high fever. Neil doesn’t buy into his bullshit for one second and insists on dragging him to the doctor’s office. That’s when Andrew quietly admits his loathing of doctors, stemming from a general distrust of society and never having been to one before. Whenever he got sick before, he would just take care of it on his own. And then he had Abby. Neil insists that despite Abby’s qualifications, Andrew needed to go see a real doctor. Neil successfully wears him down and they end up visiting the doctor together. In the waiting room, Andrew is crushing Neil’s hand so tight Neil knows it’s going to leave a bruise. Neil doesn’t care. He managed to convince Andrew to make the trip. That’s all that matters.
  • Whenever the Foxes come to visit them, Andrew cleans out the entire house. Makes sure every surface is scrubbed and not a thing is out of place. He makes them all take their shoes off at the doorstep and warns Nicky he’ll make him bleed if he hoists his legs up on the recently polished coffee table.
  • Andrew and Neil working out together, and Neil once again, being flabbergasted by just how much weight this boy can lift. It feels like some strange metaphor for all of Neil’s baggage he took at face value and handled like a rock. “You’re staring again,” Andrew points out, sitting there in a muscle t-shirt, his skin slick with sweat, his blond tufts pulled back by a thin black bandana, performing a 180kg deadlift like it’s practically nothing. “Yeah,” Neil manages. “Get used to it already.”
  • The two of them getting away for the weekend from everyone and everything. Driving, driving, halting at terribly lit gas stations in the middle of nowhere to buy cigarettes and soda, star-gazing on the roof of the Maserati, Andrew knowing every constellation by heart, Neil gaping at him in quiet, captivated awe. The two of them falling asleep in dingy motel rooms after making messy love. The comfort in the little things and just purely enjoying one another’s existence, one another’s presence. Neil’s head on Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew pressing a kiss to the pulse point of Neil’s throat, Neil fiddling with Andrew’s hair, Andrew shivering when Neil bites promises into his neck, Andrew’s hands underneath Neil’s shirt, killing his scars with his kisses.
  • Listen I could go on forever but I need to STOP.

percyyoulittleshit  asked:

I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time I’m your barista’ Or ‘Should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in’ For Percabeth

“Coffee guy has a crush on you,” Piper says without preamble, flicking a page in her reading.

“Uh huh,” Annabeth mutters, dragging a highlighter over a line in her book. It’s only after she’s finished an irritated scribble in the margin that the words really penetrate. She glances up at her friend, who is leaning across the table looking amused. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m always ridiculous. And always right. He keeps refilling your coffee.”

Annabeth, who has been lost in a haze of architecture for longer than the hour Piper has been sitting in the cafe with her, has not really been aware of her drink being refilled. She’s reached for her mug when she wanted a drink, and the mug has always had coffee in it. The logical inconsistency between the amount of times she’d reached for the cup and the cup never being empty had not really jumped out at her until now.

“If he’s refilling my coffee and not yours, that just makes him rude.”

“Oh, no. He’s been refilling mine. When you started swearing at your book before, it nearly overflowed, and it wasn’t because he was scandalised.”

Annabeth sighs, refusing to glance over her shoulder at the coffee guy in question. It’s not like she doesn’t already know what he looks like, the guy is six foot tall with a build like an Olympian swimmer and a jawline that could cut glass. She manages to drag her brain to a halt before it starts listing things to compare his eye colour to: Piper is smirking at her reading in a way that suggests she’s learnt how to read minds.

“He was probably impressed with my command of the english language.”

“He was impressed with something, all right.” Piper shuts her folder with a snap. “Right, i’m done here.”

“That reading was fifty-one pages, you’re so full of shit.”

“The fact that you know how long my readings are is terrifying, you know that?”

“Do your homework!”

“Can’t hear you, running away to get a restraining order!” She’s halfway to the door by the time she sing-songs that, leaving Annabeth with her nearly empty coffee mug and a cafe full of people giving her the stink eye.

“If you need an alibi, I can testify that you’ve been here pretty much all day.”

Coffee guy has a nice voice. Warm, smooth, just this side of deep without sounding like the trailer guy. It takes Annabeth an embarrassing amount of time to register that she’s thinking this because he’s standing right next to her, holding a coffee pot. It’s a good thing her self control is world renowned, because she uses all of it to keep from jumping out of her skin.

“What? I - no, she’s joking. We’re friends. Really.”

His grin is distractingly crooked. “I’m convinced.”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Annabeth mutters, hoping against hope that she’s not blushing, or something equally ridiculous.

“That’s probably not going to help in court.”

Her brain is - slowly - retreating out of coffee-and-study survival mode. A joke, she realises belatedly, and the rueful laugh escapes her before she can think to bite it back. And - something in coffee guy’s shoulders relaxes, just a little bit. Nervous, she thinks, and finds herself predisposed to like him. Smart boys know to think very carefully before approaching Annabeth Chase, and that’s the way she likes it.

She tucks an errant curl behind her ear. “I’ll plea insanity. Over-caffeination.” She glances down at her cup. “Actually, would you mind–?”

His face scrunches up with something like concern. “That’ll be your sixth cup.”

“Aren’t you the guy who’s been topping me up?”

“Grover seemed to think you might, I dunno, eat us or something if you ran out. I was protecting the good people of the cafe, but apparently cutting you off means stopping a murder.”

A groan escapes her, something like shame crawling up the back of her throat. Annabeth knows she’s got a serious case of resting bitch face (and she’ll fight anyone who suggests that’s a problem),but she doesn’t want the entire campus to be terrified of her.

Just wary.

“I’m not…actually some hyper-violent lady with a hair-trigger, honestly.”

“Oh hey no, I didn’t mean to–” And he’s groaning? He rubs the back of his neck, which is slowly turning red, and Annabeth starts to feel less off-kilter. “I’m bad at flirting.”

She’s definitely going to murder Piper. This is her fault somehow, Annabeth’s sure.

“Same,” she rushes out, before over-thinking can make this even messier. Her whole body feels energised, jittery, and she doesn’t think it’s the coffee. “Um. Just one more refill? To get me through the last bit of this chapter?”

“Wh - uh, right. Sure!” He squints at her. “You don’t mind?”

Annabeth rocks her mug from side to side, watching the dregs of her drink slosh from side to side. Black, no sugar. It seems like the safer option right now.

She takes a breath.

“Haven’t decided yet,” she says. “I’ll let you know when i’m done with this chapter.”

She’s not looking at him directly, but his grin is wide enough to be seen from space, let alone the corner of her eye.

“You got it,” he says happily, topping her mug off. He’s on the verge of pulling away when he pauses, like he’s remembered something. “It’s Percy, by the way. So you don’t have to keep calling me coffee guy.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Annabeth to seriously reconsider committing that murder.

anonymous asked:

Please write a short fic about tony catching peter drinking i would die omg

“Hey, Peter,” 


He froze, eyes widening as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of expensive leather brogues scuffing along the floor a few meters from him, and he turned quickly, brow furrowed into a deep V as he watched Tony wander up to him, all smiles and casual posture, hands buried in the pockets of his grease-stained jeans. He looked like he’d come straight from the workshop, stopping only to throw on a leather jacket along the way.

Why he was here at all, however, made no sense at all.

“T- Mr Stark,” Peter said, trying to communicate with him through eyebrow movements alone. If it turned out that he had to suit up and help out somewhere, he was pretty fucked, considering the fact he’d had a bit to drink at the party he’d been invited to.

Well. He said ‘a bit’. It was possibly more accurate to say ‘a fucking shit-ton’, but whatever.

Tony looked at him blankly, before shooting another smile toward the circle of people who were stood around Peter and staring quite blatantly at the both of them. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have to take Mr Parker away. He’s an intern at Stark Industries, you know how it is. Lots of work, yadda yadda, okay bye,”

And before Peter could even open his mouth, Tony had grabbed him by the arm and snatched the solo cup out of his hand almost angrily, pulling him away from the group of people and through the crowds of rowdy teenagers that littered the huge house.

“Uh, Mr Stark, wha’dd’ya want me for, exactly?” Peter asked, speaking loudly above the blaring music and wincing at how slurred his voice came out.

It had been a weird month, okay. He was just trying it out. 

Tony paused, and Peter saw him purse his lips even tighter before beginning to walk again, guiding Peter through the crowds and holding him tight as he stumbled a little.

“Hey, Parker, leaving so soon?” Flash called out from somewhere to his left, and Peter stopped turning to face him as the other boy wandered toward them. “We haven’t even begun yet, Jesus, are you a pussy or what-”

“Kid,” and suddenly Tony had let go, spinning around and walking up to Flash, who seemed to suddenly recognise who exactly Tony was, because his eyes went hilariously wide and he stumbled backward a few steps. Peter snorted involuntarily, and he saw Tony turn briefly, before shaking his head and looking back to Flash, “it seems like you’re having an absolute ball here, but I’m gonna say something and I’m only going to say it once.”

Tony looked down at Flash, eyes harsh as he drew a little closer. “Leave. Peter. Out of it. Do you understand? He is not here for you to manipulate, not here for you to bully into trying out crazy shit for your amusement-”

“Tony, what the fuck,” Peter blurted, frowning and stepping forward, more than a little put out. He’d only just managed to get accepted by Flash and all the other popular kids, and Tony was just going in, ruining it all, “you’re not my dad- don’t tell me or my friends what I can and can’t do.”

Tony turned, eyebrows raised. “Friends?” He snorted, shaking his head and walking over to Peter once more, taking him by the arm. “You haven’t called in with Aunt May for two days now,” he hissed into Peter’s ear, “she’s worried sick. You are coming with me, right now.”

“No ‘m not,” Peter pushed his hand off, looking over at Tony in anger. “You are fucking….embarrassing me…. in fron’ of my friends-”

“They are not your friends!” Tony snarled, pulling his arm again, “your friends are all currently at home, worrying their asses off because this is not like you, Peter, and they didn’t know what to fucking do, so they ended up calling me. Now you will fucking follow me out of this goddamn place right now, or I am hauling you out.”

(Read more, mobile users!)

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Honey

Originally posted by shawndreaming

a/n: Idk what this is and if there will be more, but I’m posting it so.


cold isn’t the word to describe the chill caressing your bones. not even fucking close. freezing, could be decent enough but still, not really. you don’t want to walk to catch the train, you’re begging God to miraculously will a bus to course this street or your friend Tristan to have worked a late shift, but you face a truth harder and colder than the 5 AM air: he never takes the night shift.  It’s always something about the uneasiness that creeps up his spine when someone walks through the entrance past 4 AM. Is it illegal to crave a short stack at that hour?

the trek is just as creepy as it was yesterday, and the 3 years before that you’ve been working at the mom and pop diner and taking the late night shifts. the journey never changes, just the amount of death you wish upon yourself between the change of seasons. “goodnight Melina, see you Monday.” you call behind you, exiting the back door. the dark alley set before you sent a whole new line of chills up your spine. mom always warned you that the dark can be murderous.

the memory of her vice-like grip that used to run through your hand as she picked you up late from the babysitter when you were little, always tingled when you walked someplace shrouded in black. It was like she was there with you, without the embarrassing “be careful, baby!” she’d shout after you if you’d stray a little too far. she knew you’d be fine. you were just like her in every way, so she was never scared for you.

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heaven is a place on earth (m)

pairing: shin hoseok | reader
genre: crossroads demon au / fluff, slight crack, smut
word count: 10,669
description: “Hey there sweetheart, you called? How may I help you today?” Calling upon a crossroads demon might’ve been the best decision you’ve ever made in life. At least until it involves pizza.
author’s note: this was too tempting to write… thank @jungnoir​ for convincing me to do it.

Originally posted by bunnywonho


Waiting for the pizza to arrive wanes on your patience, and much to your immense displeasure, you can’t help but pout on the floor, hoping that the damn pizza will arrive soon. Not that you would ever complain about Changkyun, but you were certainly considering it from the amount of time he’s been taking to arrive to your place. It isn’t even like he should get lost he’s actually been to your place to deliver pizzas more times than you’d ever admit.

But before you can dial the number to the pizza place just to ask about the status of your pizza, there’s a knock and doorbell at your door which you excitedly rise for and rush toward the door.

Unfortunately, the sight behind it is not Changkyun with your beloved pizza, but a silver and blue-haired demon that you can’t help but glower at despite the confusion you have at seeing him donning a red and white cap with the pizza logo on it or the fact that he’s holding a box of pizza in his hand.

“Wonho, what the hell? Where’s my pizza? If you do not quit your shit, I swear I will find a way to cut your tail off. I don’t even care if you don’t have one either. Grow one or some shit.” You growl the moment he appears in your doorway.

With that goddamn smirk curving on his lips, he replies, “Try it, sweetheart. I like it kinky.”

He’s a demon from your own personal hell, and this is literally speaking.

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Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 8  A/B/O

A/N: HEY GUYS! It’s finally here! This is definitely one of my favorite chapters. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 9 later on tonight (I live in the us so it’ll be a bit later for y'all lol) but I’ve made it halfway at least!! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Warnings: Minor character death. Swearing. Hella angsty.

Series Masterlist

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Devils Little Princess (Sweet Pea)

Olá! como estão as minhas pessoas? I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, but I am back from the dead with this!!!! I love sweet pea he is my guy my love my KING. There will be a part 2 hey maybe even a part 3 but the request will be forfilled for sure in part 2 the first interactions between the reader and sweets start here.

Happy reading loves

requested:  Sweet pea imagine where you’re a north sider but your dad has a past in the south side and it kinda causes DRAMAAAAAAA

Northside vs Southside. A war which you knew would never come to a halt, would never finish. The bad blood between the two sides were deeper then territory and money, it was something cold, and you felt it in the northside. You sat in the driveway bored one evening. Coming back to riverdale wasnt something you was particulary fond about, but daddy wanted to come back for unfinished business so you had to come back, you was daddys little girl princess. The current events happening in riverdale made the place dead at night. There was no more kids playing outside at night, no parties on a school night, no nothing. The war between sides along with the psycho killer on the loose made northsiders lock themselves in their little perfect houses before cerfew which made you bitter. You decided to take a ride to visit an old friend someone who you knew since you were a little kid.


You pulled up next to the Whyte Wyrm, reving your engine to make it clear of your presence. instantly the door swung open making you grin at the dark haired boy in a leather jacket came out with a taller boy and shorter girl behind him.

“jughead!” You practically screamed

“y/n? is it really you?” Jug asked a little confused to your presence, but not as confused as the boy and girl next to him.

“You know this northsider?” the boy asked making you role your eyes

“Since we were kids cutie” you winked turning his way and you could swear you saw a red hue appear on his cheeks.

“Well its not safe for a pretty girl like you driving alone round a place like this” he replied, instantly kicking himself that he called you pretty, but he wasn’t exactly lying, there was a dangerous spark in your eye that he was instantly drawn to.

“Then maybe you should join me. It would be fun, a cutie like you and a pretty girl like me” you looked the tall boy up and down biting your bottom lip unconciously. You had to admit you was attracted to him and you didn’t care. you was about to ask his name until a familiar voice called the boys name.

“ What the hell are you doing talking to this girl sweet pea. Do you not know who she is?”

Your whole deminor changed when you saw Tall boy come out from the doors pulling sweetpea at the collar of his jacket.

“ She’s just a Northsider, Jug knows her, shes no threat.” he replied, and you could hear the fear in his voice.

“ It’s been a while tall boy.” you spoke up, making him drop his hold of the boy and walked over to yoour car leaning on the roof, looking in from the drivers window. at this point, the whole gang of serpants were outside waiting for a comotion to occur.

“I never expected to see the devils little princess to be roaming round the south side” he spoke darkly “Do you think he will be happy you firting with serpants like that?” He asked looking down at you intimidatingly. You just stared blankly at him not showing any sign of fear.

“ I only came to see my juggie. It’s not my fault I got distracted by your pretty boy sweet pea but clearly I’ve over stayed my welcome,” you smirked “Oh and give my love to FP. I heard the news and I’m sorry” you turned to Jughead. You saw that Sweet pea eyes hadn’t moved from you the whole encounter making you blush. With that you waved goodbye and put your foot down, speeding off back home.

“Who the hell was that” the girl asked

“That Toni” Jughead sighed “ Is the one person we all need on our side right now. If y/n is in town to stay, who knows what could happen.”

“well whoever she is, i wanna know more about her” sweet pea replied  


You didnt expect anyone to know about the encounter you had with the seprants last night to be news but it was. You was sat on the benches outside enjoying the peace when betty came over to you.

 “ A serpant y/n?” she asked arms crossed. you looked up brow cocked in utter confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about cooper?” you ask bankly

“Reggie said he saw you in the southside last night flirting with a serpant. Why would you be out in the south side at night y/n with everything going on, I mean why would you even be flirting with a serpant?” Betty responded

You paused for moment, thinking before you blurted something out you knew you woud regret, but beforeyou could even form a sentence Cheryl replied making you freeze in your seat.

“She’s right. Why would a Ghoulie want to flirt with a serpant. Becuase thats what your dad is isnt he y/n. king of the Ghoulies. So i guess that makes you the Devils little princess.”

My Biggest Mistake (Barnes/Romanoff/Rogers x reader)

Request:  Cheating Angst of Bucky cheating on the reader with Natasha (Reader’s best friend) And when she finds out, Bucky and Natasha go running to apologize to her. But the reader doesn’t wanna hear it, so she ignores them. One day, Steve tries to convince her to forgive the both of them, because of how sad both, Bucky and Natasha were for the mistake. Which the reader comes in and forgives them ^^ (MAKE IT SUPA ANGSTY PLEASE) THANK YOU AGAIN BONNIE! ILYSM! 

Okay, I’m not a fan of full-on cheating stories, so I toned it down a little.  Also, I’m not very forgiving of it.  I hope you like where I took it tho!

You should have known.  

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earnestly yours | pjm

summary: it doesn’t matter if you and park jimin hate each other’s guts, because you will always get cast opposite each other for the school’s drama productions, and you will always have to kiss.
{enemies to lovers!au, high school!au, actor!au}
pairing: jimin x female reader
word count: 8k
genre: fluff
warnings: none!
a/n: god was this an impulse write. i actually got the inspiration for this because i hang out with all of the drama kids in school. the play that they’re performing is the importance of being earnest by oscar wilde, and the piece used for the reader’s audition is from all’s well that end’s well by willy shakes. 

Park Jimin and you have a… rich history, most might say. One that extends far past the most recent years of your life, down to the beginning of your schooling when the two of you were competing for the role of Peter Pan in your kindergarten play. Both of you were adamant about playing the role, but it sort of goes without saying that the part went to him because ugh, the patriarchy.

Ever since then, things have always been a little tense between the two of you.

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Not Just A Jock

Originally posted by archic-andrews

Requested by anonymous:

“Hey babe!!!! I am so glad you are back I have missed you. As a senior I understand the pressure! I was wondering if you could write an Archie Andrews imagine? Where maybe she is new and he is intrigued by her but she thinks he is like a mean jock…..? Is that lame? I really do 😘 lysm”

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Notes: First riverdale imagine yay!!! also this is not lame!!!! 

*this is set after Ms Grundy (ew) leaves


“What we all really need is a good night out, so who wants to volunteer to host a party?”

“You’re the one with a penthouse apartment and a totally chill mum, you should be the one to have it.” 

“Ok first off Kev, my mum is the opposite of chill and are you forgetting that we’re basically broke? As if we can afford the damage that will undoubtedly occur after the football team’s paid a visit.”

“Oh please as if- woah.” 

Archie looked up from his guitar and messy song writing notebook at the loud sound of Kevin’s loud gasp. It wasn’t long for Archie to find out what caused Kevin to get distracted from his heated discussion with Veronica. His eyes widened and his grip on his guitar loosened as he stared at possibly the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. 

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anonymous asked:

“the woman who has his damndelion heart" Oh my god this was amazing! So cute . I loved it so much. Is there going to be a next part?

Aww hun my heart is bursting from your kind words, thank you so much! I don’t think I’m going to write a part III anytime soon since I had a bit of difficulty writing part II haha … maybe sometime in the future I will pick up the story but who knows. I will, however, leave you with this little blurb I had written as part of the series but never actually put it into the story. I’d imagine it fit right in between Braids and Excuses


Catnap  💤

When he finds you on the couch, a few hours later, reading your anatomy textbook, he sighs from relief at the familiar sight (and the peace and quiet). Anne had graciously offered to shift the reunion to the backyard to give you a quiet place to study even though you had originally asked to go the library for a few hours. The clangs of glasses echoed slightly from outside, but you didn’t seem to mind, lost in your own world from the way you hadn’t noticed Harry plopping himself next to you, laying his head on your comfortable shoulder while crossing his arms in an exhausted sigh.

“Love?”  

You refused to indulge him, determined to finish this week’s chapter.

“Pet?” 

The feeling of his curls rubbed sweetly against your neck as he peered up to look at you (damn him).

Muppet?

“Harry!” you snapped stretching his name in annoyance. “Jus’ give me a sec.” You took a deep breath to calm yourself as you flipped a page of your book roughly, eyes still concentrating on your readings. 

“Hmm,” a familiar accusing tone surfaced in his groggy voice, “someone’s gettin’ snippy…”

His comment was ignored once again, but he didn’t mind. He felt quite smug at the moment. The ever so patient Y/N had crumbled slightly in the depths of his over-eager family (despite him triggering the hindrance).

“She lasted longer than anyone,” Harry thought to himself, eyes grazing over the complicated words of her book. His eyes dropped slightly, as a deep wave of exhaustion over took him. He gazed over to his family through the glassed doors, his sister was holding Jamie in her arms and he was grateful for the moment of peace without the little one. He loved her to bits of course, but she exhausted the wits out of him. He closed his eyes, finally, as a deep slumber over took his body.

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Luck

A/N: aye! this is my very first imagine posted on tumblr and tbh I’m very!! excited!! (my friend came up with this idea and I though it was pretty cute so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) (also, the ‘technicalities’ with the fracture I found on google, so I apologise if its not very accurate!!)

(also this is a repost bc I’m an idiot and didn’t post it to my primary gah)

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: breaking your leg accidentally? two implied swear words? mainly just a whole lotta fluff!1!!

word count: 4.7k (go big or go home)

masterlist

Originally posted by seabasschino

The crease between your eyebrows grew as your scowl deepened. You glowered intensely at the cast that entrapped your leg, confining you to the bed unable to move  without a sharp pain creeping up your body. A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you shifted slightly, helplessly attempting to find a somewhat comfortable position given your impending circumstances. Huffing, you threw your head backwards onto the pillow, glaring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights that were beginning to contribute to a painful headache mumbling incoherencies under your breath. However, despite your current predicament you couldn’t help but let a small smile adorn your lips as you thought back to the morning’s events involving a certain brooding soft super-soldier.

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Someone asked me how I would describe love…
Simply put I believe when you know you just know.
When you wake up and that person is your first thought before “holy shit I have to pee.”
Or you remember to actually text them when you’re drunk and on your way home.
Or it’s when you struggle with one eye closed just to send them coherent drunk texts cause they’re all that’s on your mind.
It’s when you want to defend them in every fight
Even if it’s a fight against a 200 pound bouncer who will probably throw you down the stairs if you try.
It’s 4 am mornings spent talking about her grandparents and what she did on New Years last year.
And you never remind her that you’re an hour ahead of her and the sun is already up and you have work in 2 hours.
It’s bowling a 30 with her and not even being embarrassed and laughing and kissing the whole while.
Love is wanting to see her In your clothes.
And letting her steal your clothes,
Even though clothes are your favorite thing.
Love is letting yourself cry in front of her
Even if it’s just while watching the fault in our stars.
Or every episode of Greys Anatomy.
Love is the way your stomach flipped the first time you laid in bed with her.
and the way you laid on her lap trying not to touch her too much.
while also wanting to touch her all over because she was so beautiful even in baggy sweatpants and a tshirt.
Love is the way that first night is engrained in your mind so vividly.
From how cold her apartment was and the way you sat exactly three feet from her in the living room so that her roommate would think your intentions were pure.
To the way your heart hammered so loudly each time she touched your face that you swear your insides were black and blue.
It’s her catching you staring at her every time you’re out together because God damn it if you aren’t the luckiest motherfucker alive to have that girl on your arm.
Love is something as small as a two hour subway ride to pick her up from the airport.
So she doesn’t have to navigate alone.
And seeing her around the corner and knowing it’s her just by the perpetually chipped dark nail polish on her fingernails.
It’s the way she clings to you in her sleep.
as if you’re filled with helium and could float away at any moment.
Love is “please don’t pee with me on the phone.”
“Oh my god you’re peeing with me on the phone.”
Now we pee together on the phone.
It’s knowing she likes her coffee black
But her knowing you like yours to be half milk.
Love is like that build up in a song that brings chills you can’t explain,
And it’s that smell that only she has on her breath.
Nothing can quite describe it but it cuts through alcohol and food and smoke and it just… Is.
It’s letting the pups sleep between the two of you
Even though You want her pressed firmly against you all night.
It’s knowing she hates Mexican food but she took you to get enchiladas on your first date anyway.
Love is a series of small things and it comes with knowing that not every love story starts out beautifully.
No sometimes it starts with a drunken kiss or asking her out on a napkin at a bar
(It seemed romantic at the time).
But you know fields of flowers can bloom from the ashes of forest fires.
And the world started with a bang
At least that’s what some people say.
She’s my world, so why shouldn’t we have begun with a crash?
Like the ones that halt traffic for miles,
The ones you can’t tear your eyes away from.
I’ve always been a disaster anyway but she never shielded her eyes from me.
It was seeing her look at me without flinching that made me certain.
Love is saying you’ll never ever do long distance again.
and finding yourself on flights home to see her face because miles can’t measure up to how much you miss her.
Home is where the heart is after all
And love is knowing there’s an inevitability when you fall.
Love is knowing that you’ll probably end up broken into a trillion pieces when it’s all said and done,
But as long as her fingertips craft each and every shard then it’ll still be a masterpiece.
—  The Big Bang by c.r.
Kalopsia (M)

» the belief that things appear more beautiful than they are.

Summary: Jungkook’s a photographer who has a knack for finding the beauty in the simple things.
Word Count: 10,623
Genre: Photographer!Jungkook + angst/smut/fluff 
Warnings: Mentions of death 
A/N: Based on this song. This is incredibly long, and I’m sorry.

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